resting...

I can't believe that this year has succumbed to it's end already. I have no idea where the time has gone. I can't quite remember if I read it or overheard someone say it, but it has been living in my mind for the past few months..."If you are an adult, and you aren't tired, you aren't doing it right!" And lately, nothing has rang more true in my life than that. I mean, it made it's way onto our Christmas card, well sort of. As the holidays approach, I am reminded that although I am looking forward to the time with my family, there are so many people who will be alone on Christmas and New Years. What can I do to make that less prevalent of an issue? How can I contribute a part of myself to aid in someone else's loneliness? I'm not quite sure. Adan had a great idea a couple of years ago. He wanted to bake cookies, fill a large jug with hot chocolate and pass it around to people who don't have anything to eat. Unfortunately, for a couple of years now I have encouraged the idea, but never followed through on it. This year will be different. On his break from school, we will be doing just that. We will bake cookies, fill the jug with hot chocolate and drive over to the hospital district south of Dallas passing out goodies and passing out the love of Jesus. There is something to be said about the simplicity in a child's thinking. The solution is so concrete, yet for us adults, navigating through such simplicity can handicap us. I have found that if you enter a situation with the intent to find your answer, in most cases, you will. Searching for what may be missing in your life isn't any different. Many of you, especially as the holidays approach, find yourself in a place that is dark. You put on that brave face every single day, put one foot in front of the other because that is what is burned into your heart, yet you still can't fill the void. I have been there, in that dark place. I may not have known the place existed at 7, but the decision I made so long ago did in fact allow for an easier transition into resolve when the darkness came later. Where do you think that ingrained desire to be better, to want more, to be complete comes from? It comes from God. I pray that as you finish out this year, you will open your heart to the promise of concrete simplicity, placing that handicap we keep so comfortable at bay, in His hands. Merry Christmas folks, may you be happy and may you find a real peace this season.

This was the first time I ever photographed such a large group, and I was terrified beyond prepared. They were sweet, they were fun, energetic and they made me feel like I could accomplish the task. I hope you enjoy these few faves below...

mirror...

There was only a few of them. But it didn't take long for more to join, slowly but surely, more of them made their way downstairs. Every single time I glanced over, more out of touch with the performance they were becoming. Some of them sleeping, others just staring off into the empty part of the room. And I found myself getting emotional. Here I was, standing with a camera in hand, snapping away at this sweet first grade class sing away, and all I kept thinking about was what difference of extremes in age I was surrounded by. These children had no idea who they were performing for. Truth is, neither did I. I have always had a bit of a soft spot for the geriatric population. As a matter of fact, I always thought that I was going to be a geriatric nurse. There is something honorable about being able to care for someone in their last days, especially when they have lived a life full of memories. Memories that have difficulty surfacing, but live so freely in the lines on their faces. Memories that can't make their way to the forefront of thought, but live so freely in the grey of their thinning hair and in the expressions behind their eyes. So there I stood, as the children sang, emotional and overcome with a sadness. One that contradicted any rational reason to not cry. But I did. I let the tears fill my eyes, and I let them stream down my face. She was here, I'm certain of it, the woman who made sure to always have fresh baked bread on Sunday afternoons, so after their spirits were filled from service, they too could be filled with the makings of yeast, warm water and sugar. Not to scarce was the man either, because in his presence I'm sure we were also. The one who rubbed his knuckles to the bone every other night, as he held down that second job. The one that would allow him to feed his family of eight. But what I'm most certain of, is the great old souls of which we were also in the presence of. And as the class began to wind down their performance, the teacher thought it would be appropriate to sing some old church hymns, Christmas themed ones. Almost as quickly as the music began, I could see it. One by one the once empty expressions filled with a recognition. And almost as as quickly as the lyrics left those sweet young lips, I could see it. One by one their heads lifted in recognition. The once uninterested, mentally drifted group began to sing along with a fervor to praise. So I stood, in awe struck wonder, realizing that I too would one day gaze into nothing. I asked God to always allow me to experience moments like these, to pull me close to Him, and asking Him to never lose interest in me, even "when" I reach this old age.

Having a baby is a special time. It's the beginning of life. It's the opportunity to love. And I was asked to swing on by this families house to snap a few of them in their home. Here are a couple of my faves...

whose view...

He was loading the nail gun. It was easy for him. Many things are. I sat there, an onlooker, watching as he put up studs, nailed them secure and did the math in his head. I told him that I loved him, and he paused, looked up at me and said he loved me too. As he continued to reframe the wall, I told him how cool he was. He smirked. The kind of expression that leaves a gap of acceptance and security but one that is always guiding me towards his heart. He is beyond talented, in everything that he does. We started talking about redoing our house since we purchased it three years ago. We had always planned on someone, some company, coming in and doing the work. We have a rental in Arlington that he remodeled, and taking on a project of that caliber again, wasn't something I wanted, he wanted. But here we are, changed current...and somewhere along the way I have found myself living with my builder. Truth is, we could write a check for this. We could write a check for a lot of things, but we don't. He is that man. The man that wants to have his sons learn what it is to actually take care of a home and a car. He is amazing. He teaches our oldest the importance of knowing the difference between a phillips and a flathead, and in that same breath, extends instruction on loading the washing machine. I have said it before, how he is a way better father than I am a mother, and I love him for it. I don't waver for one minute in that truth. We are partners and I am beyond fortunate to have him lead our home.

I get a little bit of anxiety when I have to shoot kids. They are mobile, they are energetic and they have minds of their own. I get nervous because I want to do a good job. Then I realize that if I will just let them be, take a deep breath and follow them around, the shot will just present itself. May these sweet faces remind me you of what joy childhood is. Here are a few of my faves.

gratitude is finite...

I drove home, after a very long shift. I walked through the door and helped to get the morning going. They were packing up and driving to Waco soon, and I would be left all alone. Wiping faces, brushing teeth, lacing up shoes and an insufficient amount of hugs and kisses were had before they all piled into the truck and drove away. It was Thanksgiving Day, and I would be spending it alone, without the most important people of my life. As the door shut behind them and I exhaled audibly, I made my way to our bedroom, for what I thought would be some amazing sleep. Except that it wasn't. I woke up every single hour, on the hour. Every single time that I looked at my phone and saw the time, it was a reminder that I was that much closer to having to go back to work. It was a reminder of how much time had already passed since I had seen my family. And it was a reminder of how soon I would have to pretend to be okay with working another night shift, on a holiday, without my family. Moments like these make me not like my job. Moments like these make me wish that I did something else for a living. And yet, moments like these make me stop and realize that even though I am obligated to report on holidays, weekends and overnight shifts, I am not obligated to lay in that hospital bed with those children. I am not obligated to carry a parents emotional burden of having a child so sick that their chest has to be opened in order to fix it. And I am not obligated to remain in such a victim rich outlook. I am however obligated to change my attitude, because I chose this life. I chose to study this in college and I choose now to continue it in the matter in which I do. I will get to go home in 12 hrs, every single night that I show up, but those children and their families do not. That obligation, the one to stand firm on a character that was instilled in me by no one other than the Lord, allows me to continue to carry out such an honor. Because that is exactly what I do. It is an absolute honor to have these parents look me in the eye, and trust me to keep their child safe and most importantly...alive. Every day, every night...even on Thanksgiving.

My heart was so rich after having met this family. They are brave, they are full of joy and they love each other very much. And I'm pretty sure their children will carry their tradition of love, forever. Here are a few of my faves.

a revolving door...

For my entire life the past few weeks, I have been mentally resisting my usual mantra where my personality has sat so comfortably. Look, I know we all grow and we can come into experiences that change who we are, I know that. It has however, taken the better part of my brain to establish a covenant with my heart and allow for an evolving thought to be accepted. The climax of that thought produced the realization that I am not as much of a people person as I thought I was. I have been faking it, for quite some time, all of my life maybe. I do not enjoy the get to know you phase, at all. I want to skip it, and just get real with people, like right off the bat. Why can't we all just do that? Like feel the vibe out, and if you feel me and I feel you, then bam! Instant friendship. Then I had a thought. What if it is that way? What if everyone applies that process already, and I have consistently year after year, season after season, been weeded out? It's obvious I know, my outgoing personality, that is not a secret. But what if I have been compensating for the potential lack of initial "reach out" from others? The only thing I do know is that I am tired of the game. So stinking TIRED. The older I get the more okay I am with just letting that struggle with intimacy go...I think. You have read me write how much I struggle with getting the love back, and I need to move on! I mean it, I am so sick and tired of being spoken about in light and then not being treated as such. I am fulfilled in many other areas of my life, through my husband, my children and most importantly the Lord, so why can't my mind negotiate with my heart on a more consistent basis? If it did, it would produce an outcome worthy of change. Truth is, I have felt the shift, personally and professionally, and I don't really have much of a choice but to be okay with it. Don't get me wrong, I am not committing myself to silence and reverting to pantomime communication, but if you see me "disengaged", know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with me, I'm just not playing the game anymore. 

This sweet family has about the most gentle aura I've ever been around. And taking their pictures was beyond my pleasure. Here are a few of my faves.

timing...

The more I try and clean, the more he makes it impossible to. Luca is determined to pull out every pan. He is determined to hide every Lego and he also manages to open every drawer in my dresser and pull apart socks I never even knew that I had. Those are not things that we teach. I never once showed him how to pull open the drawers or pocket tiny toys and make them disappear, yet somehow he just knows how to do it. But the more I thought about his incessant need to bridge the incline that is my attempt at cleaning, the more I think I understood his intentions. Him and I aren't very different. I find the path of his destruction is aligned with my need to check off those "tasky" engagements. Sometimes it's dishes, sometimes it loading the washer and sadly, sometimes it's scrolling my phone. We are a people made for closeness. Of course it wouldn't be something we are taught. It is something that we are just born with. The desire to be noticed, to be fawned over and to be flat out paid attention to, I believe it is innate within us. When he makes landscape nightmares of our home, leaving traces of pots and pans, underwear and diapers, I know he is telling me something...he wants me. My job isn't to teach him to not make a ransack of our home, but to teach him that I am present for him. And that is something that he will learn as I disengage from everyday distractions and focus my attention on this life that has been entrusted to me. Is keeping a tidy home important? I guess it depends on who you ask, but for me, sitting in this season with Luca is way more important than having polished baseboards beds made. Listen folks, they will only be this age once, ONCE! I know you all have read me write it, and as much as you here my say it, just know that I will never tire of making it made known...time will wait for no one.

The seasons are changing, can you feel it? The nights are colder and the breeze is getting stronger. 

With this changing weather, comes a tide of family closeness. And when I get a chance to take one's picture, it makes for a great fall evening in my book. Here's a peek at a few of my fave "time stoppers" from this sweet family.

refinement...

We asked him to get in our bed, in between the both of us, because we wanted to get cozy snuggles, but we also wanted to tell him how much we loved him. He loved the idea, and did not hesitate to crawl in. Back and forth we went, Marcus and I, telling him how special he was, telling him how adorable he was and telling him how irreplaceable he is to us both. There was ulterior motive in Marcus' suggestion, he was making an appointment with Adan, and I was going to be lucky enough to witness. You see, these two, they are part of a daddy and son bible study that a fellow dad started at TCA. They are in the midst of studying the great warriors in the bible. Marcus has been wanting to introduce Joshua to Adan, but in order to know Joshua, you must first meet Moses. And as our love fest began to wind down, Marcus started to ask Adan about Egypt. As I laid there in observance of what was taking place, I was reminded of Our Savior's promise to be present when two or more are gathered in His name. I was overcome with emotion, and as the tears surfaced, my instinct was to bow my head and rest it in between Adan's shoulder blades, so I did. My sighs were audible, the tears were visible, because our son had just made us a worshiping three, and I was emotionally fulfilled. I thanked God immediately for this moment. I told Him that I was undeserving of such a memory. But just as quickly as the words left my mouth, He reminded me that I am...and so are you.

Being a mother has changed me, in ways that I never knew could. The love that I am capable of giving is immeasurable. I see things that I could not see before and having a chance to witness sweet love in person when someone asks me to take their picture is pretty awesome. Love is visible everywhere, including these below. Here are a few of my faves from this sweet family.

In the spirit of...

Our family has been very busy these past few weeks. My schedule hasn't changed, I am still working the same, so I'm not quite sure why it has felt so hectic lately. I have also had more and more opportunities to photograph, so that could also be our culprit. It's Halloween, and we are headed out for some much needed family time and I love it, the kids love it and I hope you find time today or tonight to love on your children. Somewhere, some parent is standing vigil over their child in a hospital, wishing for the rush of door to door trick or treating. We all know how silly these holidays can be, and how they can be such an annoyance at times with all the preparations we all feel the need to have, but we are lying to ourselves if it isn't a tad bit for us too. I love to see my kids faces when they are having fun. I love to see them laughing when they are in the company of family joy. When they are robbed of that, whether it's because of weather or unforeseen circumstances...or heaven forbid sickness, hospital bound sickness...it saddens me. We are so fortunate to not have that as a variable in our lives, and I pray for you families who have been robbed this evening. Happy Halloween, here is hoping you can find the BOOtiful in your evening.

In the spirit of all the holidays that are so fast approaching, this sweet family requested some photos of their little brood, and of course I said yes. These are a few of my faves. 

My sacrifice...

As I got ready to leave for work last week, I told him "I know you're going to call me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and they went about their evening routine like mommas worries were just that, mommas worries. While at work, I began to wind down the beginning part of my shift, and my phone rang. I knew it. Right then and there, I just knew it. His fever had spiked to 104F and I was not there. My work and home personality are very similar, I am essentially the same woman. However, when poop hits the fan at work, I am calm. I have been present for some very high stress situations, and somehow I can navigate through the situation just fine. It is exhilarating, the sense of urgency I have underneath my demeanour, and I love it. This call however, the 2 seconds of undertone in his speech, that...I COULD NOT HANDLE. I lose my shit, to be quite frank. The list appears in my brain, and instinctively I run it down quickly with Marcus..."did you...did he...have you...has he...", and like clockwork, his reply is slow and it takes all of my mental strength to not throw the phone down, run to my car and drive home. But I can't. Because just on the other side of the wall, there is a baby lying in a warmer, who has just had surgery. She is slow to recover, very sick and her mom sits at her side, weeping audibly. She is in no position to drive, she has no support and is broken. This is the face of my profession. It is this truth that jolts me still. For the better part of my life I have been a mother and I am also a wife. From time to time, I have been known to be a friend. And my family would still consider me to be a daughter and sister. But for three nights a week, I am not allowed to be any of those things. I can't be any of those things. And as perspective begins to weigh me down, it also ultimately anchors my emotions. It calms my insides and allows me to move forward and find a solution for our son. And as I pull myself together and walk back into my patients room, I know that I am not allowed to be sad for my child, for I must only show compassion for this baby and her mom. I am not allowed to grieve my sons inability to sleep, for I must show them endless hope. I cannot share my son's personal story of sickness, for I must show this mother that the only baby that is important to me right now, is her daughter. Because it is. I am committed to be present for 12hrs at the bedside of some of the sickest children in our city. And I do it.

***pls note, the dipiction of the characters described are of a fictitious nature and only serve as an illustration of what a pediatric ICU may look like from time to time***

It seems I have had more and more opportunities to photograph lately, and I am not complaining...one single bit. I work with Callyn and she requested some photos of her brood together before they became a family of 6. Here are a few of my faves // #CALLYNallgirls

ps...the 4th is a surprise sex, but my money is on a girl, hence my hashtag, lol.

In my flesh...

I lost it. I was waiting for it, truth be told. I let it happen, spoke it into existence and let the sins of my past wash over me. With my youngest at my hip and my ego on the horizon, I lost it. I allowed myself to get dark and proud. Who am I? I am notorious for saying that when people are at their worst, believe them, because that is who they really are. I have treaded in that very pool of truth before, and I was there this morning. As we pulled into the parking lot of the football fields, Adan said, "I don't have a good feeling about this game," and I asked him why, and he said he just didn't think it was going to be a good game. I told him to just have fun because that is what matters and if he has to throw the ball, throw it to his friends. And that was that, except that it wasn't. If his game was any premonition of what was to come, I did not heed it's warning. I had an exchange of words with an opponents mom, raised my voice and used horrible judgement. The worst part was, I had "enough sense" mid arguement to realize I still had my work jacket on, with my employers name stitched just below the lapel. And I thought to myself, "what example am I setting, I may one day take care of her child?!?" And it was that very thought that catapulted my spirit emotionally still. I fought it, His/God's voice. He silenced me...eventually. He reminded me that it is His love stitched in me that should anchor my compass. Allowing that to be what is visible for all to see, that is what matters most. Except that it wasn't, not this morning and I am ashamed. Turns out, I am who I am at my worst, and that is okay. I am grateful that I had the "better sense" of my seed, weigh greater in me. I am even more grateful to have said "yes" to it, before we left. I found her, walked up to her and told her I was sorry for acting that way. Whether she accepted my apology or not, I will never know. What I do know is, His perfect Glory goes before me and His love is, was and always will be...forever.

Our yearn...

It burned. It began to bubble inside of me, and I could not contain it. So I quickly turned away, and starred out of the window as Marcus drove us all home. I was feeding the boys some snacks, and realized I was gonna fall mighty short, given their appetites. As the last scoop of yogurt was placed in Adan's mouth, he asked, "is that it?". Uninhibited in my response and sustained in my moment, "yes" was the truth, so that is what I told him. Just as quickly as the words left my mouth, the feeling came over me. You see, somewhere in that very moment, there was a mom struggling to scoop something, anything into her child's mouth. She is scraping whatever remnants she has available to feed her hungry children. And as I starred out of the window and caught a glimpse of my reflection, I could see her. She loves her children. To provide their bare necessities is a struggle for her. It broke my heart, knowing that it is not a struggle for me. My heart ached at the thought that "this snack" wasn't going to satiate my children in the interim of the commute. It was a palpable emotion and I broke down, hid my tears from my family, but nonetheless, I cried. Not for me, but for her.

Being a mother is the most special job I have ever had. I remember my oldest sister telling me how I would soon miss Adan inside my body once he was born. I thought she was ridiculous. Turns out she was right. Our bodies are the most precious and badass building machines. So when someone asks me to photograph them while they are in the heart of their infrastructure, I oblige. These are a few of my faves from #expectKING maternity...