Category Archives: Pictures Worth a Thousand Words

Cleansing through tears

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Dear Elliot,

In just a few days we will hit the 1 year mark since your last day on this earth. Only, it’s Elliotwkiddosgoing to be a day like any other in the last 365 days of grief.

Every day people come to the blog and read the posts as I processed through those days of uncertainty. Your story of unwavering faith in the face of unthinkable sorrow is reaching others and will forever be shared. Every day I am able to pray for Chris, Wyatt and Bradford as you are in and out of my thoughts.

I was telling someone your story the other day. I don’t even remember how it came up? I didn’t cry. I was very matter of fact. I haven’t cried in a long time.

What I have been is angry. Not at God. At cancer…at the treatments used…at the what~ifs. I’ve been too angry to cry. But today I watched this video about a 17-year-old boy named Zach and the legacy he left behind when he passed away on May 20, 2013 (his story is documented below.) I slid down into the place between the overstuffed chair and the wall of windows and I wept.

I made up for months of no tears. It’s the same spot I sat more than a year ago and begged God for a miracle. It was my go to place when things overwhelmed me. I haven’t sat there since last year while talking to Elisabeth on the phone a few days before you died and knowing what need not be said.

El, my chest has literally ached for days. My heart hurts. Though I will never know how widespread your influence has been, it is vast. I do not understand the ways of our mysterious God. I don’t even know how to finish the letters I’ve started writing to Wyatt and Bradford.

What I know for certain is that I don’t want to find out I’m dying to really start living. I want to live. I want to love until it heals. Laugh until my sides hurt and my lips shake. Dance around my living room until I’m out of breath. Drink in the sunlight, feel summer raindrops on my skin. I want to live, El. You taught me that.

I want to dream big
Never stop seeking
Brag on a God who is beyond explanation
Reach the unreachable
Believe in Heaven
Heal the hurting
Capture beauty and give it away
I want to know when this day is done that I am more than satisfied with the goings on.

I want to play more
Give more
Sing more
Pray more

I know you wouldn’t wish anger for any of us left here to grieve. Every time I see a “sky cross” I grasp the visual evidence that God gives me the strength I need when I need it.

I love you friend. Thank you for living with such grace and beauty. Thank you for showing everyone who witnessed your courage during illness that God is good even when it doesn’t feel like it and he has a plan and a purpose for our lives.

Blessings and Light,
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Related Posts:
Saying Goodbye
A Tribute to Elliot

Five Minute Friday: Brave

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This week’s word is one that I’ve used more in recent days than ever before. With myself…my daughter…my sons…it seems to be at the forefront of my mind. “Be brave. You can do this!” “Great job! You are so brave!” Sound familiar, Mamas?

I saw a perfect example of bravery from 2-year-old, Sophia today. It made me wish I was as brave and trusting of my Heavenly Father as she is of her earthly father. Her whole face smiled as she soared into the air without a single doubt that he would catch her. There was no fear in her eyes. She never took them off her daddy.

runningrunning to daddydaddy's armslift offin the airflyingthe catchback in daddy's armsHappy HeartTrue bravery, I believe, is running into the Father’s arms, ready for an adventure, knowing full well that as long as he is in control, there is nothing to fear. He always makes the catch.

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Losing my religion…to a hair stylist

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Alright ladies, listen up!

If you are a “Christian” who feels guilty because you want to look nice, raise your hand. Darlings, when did God declare, “There shall be no highlighting of hair, painting of nails, or staining of lips”? Who told you that beauty isn’t important to the one who created it to begin with?!

I am so tired of hearing women bash other women because they’re pretty, curvy, skinny, tall, short, well put together or any number of things that we all strive to be. Why don’t we walk up to each other and say, “Girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl, you got it goin’ on!” Instead we gossip and make snarky comments to anyone who will listen about how we bet she’s starving herself or throwing up… she probably doesn’t have the money to buy that outfit so she charged it and is in debt… that’s not even her hair, it’s a weave… or highlights, or a hair piece. Let me tell you something, the moment I pay for highlights, a weave or a hair piece, technically it’s mine!

Some of you have seen my Facebook post about my hair stylist Freddie and his trusted assistant, Jason.
Freddie and Jason at Jamison ShawFreddie and Jason restored a sense of beauty in me that I haven’t felt for a while. Not because I don’t feel valued. Not because I need more attention from my husband. Not because someone was mean to me. Are you ready for this?

BECAUSE I DIDN’T LIKE MY HAIR.

I didn’t even realize that I felt this way until Freddie changed my look. I feel great! What I don’t feel is guilty for spending 2 hours in a salon, away from my children, being pampered by professionals and paying money that I worked hard to earn.

You shouldn’t either!

I have received mostly positive feedback from the picture on FB, but I did have one woman email to say, “Don’t you feel selfish taking all of that time away from your husband and children to have unnecessary things done to your appearance?” Hmmmm…”No. Should I?”

Here’s the deal beauties, I am finding more and more that when I take a little time out to take care of myself, I am a much better wife and mother. Chris and I are a team. He’s not a babysitter, he’s their father. I didn’t turn in my id card when becoming a mother. Did life change? Sure. Is it richer and fuller? Yes. Do I find my identity in my children? No. Plus, when I feel better about myself, I feel sexier for my husband. See how this works? I cannot imagine God saying it’s a bad thing.

People will disagree with me and that’s okay. (Please disagree in the comments and don’t send me an email.) Here is what I believe. God took His time. He created every living thing with such ornate detail. He sculpted the earth. He used color and light. He didn’t throw a blob of black and grey together and say, “It is good.” He created beauty and said, “It is good.”

So for those of you condemning those of us who take delight in highlights, stilettos and red lippy, I say, “Stop acting so religious and go get your hair done! You’ll thank me.”

Don’t underestimate the positive impact of a seemingly small change. AND you don’t even have to have surgery. I’m going to make this super easy for you Atlanta peeps. Here’s Freddie’s card.
photoI suggest calling to make an appointment. When they answer the phone, they ask, “How may we make your day beautiful?” I love that!

 

Easter Hangover

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It was the mid 90’s. I was driving someone else’s car down a main road in the city where I was living at the time. Dawn was just about to break the horizon when it occurred to me. It’s Easter morning. I had been up for several days with the help of stimulants in the form of pill and powder and was now starting the brutal decent down from my high. I usually didn’t know what day it was so I’m not sure how I remembered it was Easter.

This picture etched so vividly in my memory… As the sun peeked over the horizon and poured it’s light into my eyes, tears ran down my sunken cheeks. “Easter…I wonder what my family is doing? My mom has already called half a dozen people by now exclaiming, ‘HE IS RISEN!’ while waiting for their reply, ‘He has risen indeed’ and will be preparing for Sunday service and dinner afterwards.”

I was 18 years old. I would spend 8 more years in mental anguish and self-inflicted torment before I surrendered control of my life in the rooms of AA.

Last night I attended the Easter service at my church. It was the best service I have ever been a part of on this important Sunday in the history of our heritage. I was sitting on the back row of the balcony and could see everything going on. Different kinds of people from all walks of life flooded the auditorium. I had a stressful time getting myself and 3 children ready to attend and quite honestly, I just wanted to check off attendance, hear the same old “Easter message” and get home to my pajama pants.

God had other plans.

I sat behind a row of several children. During the music I glanced over to see an adult holding two of the little girls up. They were fully in the moment with hands lifted in praise to the giver of life. “They get it.” I thought to myself. “I want to get it like they do.”
Our hands are lifted highGod wasn’t stressed out about what I would wear to gather in this place. He didn’t care if I stuffed myself into my spanx. It didn’t matter if I had make-up on or my hair fixed. He just wanted me. He wanted me to recognize His goodness. He wanted me to bask in His grace. He wanted me to see, first hand, faith like a child.

For those of you reading who have given up trying to change someone you love who is lost in addiction. Good. You can’t. Only God can save us from ourselves. You never know what God will use to trigger the desire for Him.

To the parents who have a prodigal son or daughter…They have not forgotten the teachings of their childhood. God’s got this…Let Him have it.

To those of you going through hell…please hear me when I say that the “Christians” who are telling you that it’s impossible to be saved while acting the way you are, just haven’t experienced the kind of lost that has seemingly swallowed you. We do the best we can with what we have and that is what they are doing.

When it comes down to the core of the matter…it is between you and God, my friend. You. And. God. He has the final say and only He knows your heart. You may be acting a fool. I did for many years. You may think God has abandoned you like so many others have. May I encourage you with this truth. God is exactly where he has always been. Awaiting your return. He wants nothing more than to bless you and shape you into His purpose. He wants to love you, provide for you and protect you from the demons that haunt you.

I know this first hand. I have sat where you sit. Maybe not in the same circumstances, but desperate…longing…searching…begging…for some shred of hope. There is hope. Today we celebrate this hope called Jesus. There is life. Today we celebrate this life in Jesus. There is salvation. Today we celebrate the Savior named Jesus. There is abounding love. Today we celebrate the purest form of love in Jesus. There is peace that passes all understanding. Today we celebrate that peace through Jesus.

Now you know. I am rather sold out to this carpenter who walked the earth for just over 30 years. He never wrote a book. He wasn’t overly attractive. He wasn’t wealthy and His crown was made of thorns, but you see, He redeemed me. What was lost is now found. What was broken is now whole. Blind eyes can now see. He took my armor of shame and replaced it with a cloak of grace. But I had to hand it to him. He was not going to strip it off of me. I had to remove it, piece by piece. It was heavy and restricting. Now…now I am free. It was more than worth the exchange. I couldn’t always see it in the moment, but looking back I wonder how I ever missed it.

My friend, journeying alone or as a companion through the desert. My prayer for you is that, in His perfect timing, God will reveal himself to you in a way so obvious and powerful that there is no denying His presence. My prayer for you is that you will come back home.

If you want/need somewhere to turn that is “come as you are” here are a few great resources.
Central Online (Their motto is, “It’s okay to not be okay.”)
Buckhead Church a division of North Point Community Church (This is my 2nd home)
People of the Second Chance (These are my people…scarred…broken and beautiful)

 

Our Darling Boy

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The last three weeks have been filled with fevers, coughing, headaches, sleepless nights, lot’s of tissues, cough drops, and smoothies from the freezer section at Costco.

Being a parent is wonderful. There is no equivalent. However, adding sick kiddos and mama getting sick to the mix increases the difficulty significantly.

Amidst all the runny noses, sneezes and sore throats there was something to celebrate…Riley's Happy Birthday hat

Caden turned 5. Five years old! My baby. He claims he is no longer a baby and he’s right, but he will always be my baby.

The morning started with Chris’ delicious Belgian waffles. Caden was elated and smiled throughout our Happy Birthday song.

It was time for making wishes, blowing out candles and feeling the first bit of sugar entering the system as maple syrup.

Next came the gifts, of which his favorite was the Angry Bird fan filled with candy from Aunt Carrie. He also loved the Lego’s and always enjoys putting them together with his daddy.1,000 piecesNew LegosFiretruckThe highlight of his afternoon was celebrating with fro-yo from Yoforia. What better for a sore throat? The other patrons joined us in singing. It was so fun!

We enjoyed dinner backwards as after Yoforia we went for “fancy” hotdogs. Mine was veggie and it was delicious.


The next week we celebrated with school friends which properly completed the festivities of transitioning Caden into his 5th year.

I realize this has been a total “Mommy post” which is somewhat out of the norm for my writings. I’m under the weather, making me more vulnerable to the sappy side. You won’t hold it against me, will you?

And let’s be honest…I’m insanely proud of my boys and sometimes it’s therapeutic to share my adoration so that I don’t explode.

Finding my Muse

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JoyHello Darlings! It’s been rather quiet around here lately. For those of you who have emailed and asked why I’m not consistently posting, “Thank you!” It means so much that you have missed my voice.

Please allow me to explain.

For more than a year, I have been in the process of making some rather BIG life choices. They have not been taken lightly or made in haste due to the weight they carry.

As of February 1, I am no longer employed in my comfortable position with incredible people who support me…I am officially a “Freelance Photographer” or “Self-Employed.” Isn’t that terrifying?! I am forced to take full responsibility for everything that I do even if I don’t want to. There’s no one to pass the buck to. I am the “Sole Proprietor.”

That’s right people! I’m using grown-up words. And they’re using me! I now have a CPA and an attorney. I plan for taxes long before tax season. My organized chaos is now my home office.

There are several factors that went in to my having no mode of transportation other than a leap of faith.1. I truly believe that God is leading me and he is faithful.
2. I have a man who champions my dreams while holding me accountable.
3. I believe in taking risks.

I have met some incredible people. I am working with everyone, from 4 day old babies to corporate giants. I believe that we are all spiritual beings with skin on and that rather levels the playing field. I could give you the whole speal about making a difference, blind faith and helping those who need a hand up, not a hand out, but I’ll save that speech for another day.

My purpose, here, on this page today, is to connect with my readers. With those of you who have encouraged me and moved me forward. Those of you who have trusted me with a story filled with vulnerable statements like, “I was too ashamed to post this in the comments…” I want you to know, I’m not going anywhere. I may be quiet for a bit while I’m figuring out how to integrate my writing with my photography.

For those people who say, “You can’t do both.”
I don’t agree.
There have been times in my life when I had no words, but a picture taken told the whole story.
So where I am not setting out to prove anyone wrong, I am embarking on this journey with a sound mind, a full heart and open hands. And when I allow others to make me feel like any of those things have been compromised, I quickly return to the basic truth that God is for me and when I am faithful in doing the work, He will deliver the blessings.

This first year (or three) will not be without struggle. Of that, I am fully aware. I am going into it with enthusiasm and trust. Nothing truly worth having in my life has ever come without sacrifice, humility and perseverance.

So today, friends, I am grateful. Grateful beyond the words on this page and blessed far greater than I deserve or could have ever imagined. The future is very bright.

Love and Light,
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The Mother is always to blame

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Ri focusedI listen as his small, sweet voice sounds out the words to one of his favorite books, wishing I could bottle and save it for a day much later than this, when he has grown into a man and his voice is deep and strong.

“The days are long but the years are short.” This is the epitome of that truth.

I spent the night before lying at the foot of his bed listening to his painful groans from the headache preventing his body from resting. I placed my hand on his little leg that now seems so big compared to the last time I was praying intense prayers for healing. “God, please…please lay your hand on his small frame and provide complete restoration. God, please…direct my steps to know how to properly care for him. Don’t let me miss one sign that he needs medical attention. You are the Great Physician, the Ultimate Healer. I believe you will do what you say you will do, so as I stand here with empty hands, open in reverence to you, I am thanking you for what you have already done.”

Throughout my prayer distracting thoughts are invading my mind. “What if the headache is something more? What if you don’t get to a hospital in time? What if it’s meningitis like the little boy had who passed away not long ago?” and on and on it goes.This may sound dramatic and I am a bit that.

To see such a shift in behavior from this energetic, almost 7-year-old, to this lifeless, sleepy, curled up child was shocking. Why does it take something like this to make me ask myself, “Why don’t I enjoy every moment of his energy?!” Why when my child is sick, does it make me question every motive I’ve had for the last 6 years of his life. Why does it make me feel like a horrible, neglectful mother?

This night, he is a little better. The fever has now set in and he shivers as the warmth from his body attempts to warm the cool sheets of his bed. I go to kiss his forehead and he says, “Mom, will you pray?”

“Yes, Darling. I just prayed. Did I miss something?”

“Will you pray for me to feel better and that Caden won’t get sick?”

I sat down on his bed and took his hand. “God, thank you. Thank you for Riley and his faith in you. Thank you for his energy and life. Thank you that he’s mine. Please heal him. Thank you for healing him. We know you are faithful to fulfill all promises made so we proclaim your goodness and thank you for his complete healing. Please keep Caden safe from sickness and pain. Father, we know all required of us is that we ask for what you will so willingly give. Thank you. You are strong and powerful God, Creator of the Universe, and yet you pause to meet us here. Thank you. We trust you. We believe you. We love you. In Jesus name, Amen.”

“I’ve never heard you pray like that before.” Ri says.
“Really?” I respond. “Is that bad or good?”
Long pause…”It’s good!…I think? I don’t know yet?” He says as he turns on his left side and pulls the covers up to his ears.

“Okay buddy. Time for sleep.”

“Okay, mom. Night. Oh, hey, mom.”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you know how come I can run so fast?”

“How?”

“When I wanna get somewhere, I run, and there’s no slow down or off switch. I only know how to go fast.”

“I can definitely see that, Ri. You are a great runner.” I say in response.

“Yeah, I am.” he says sleepily.

“Goodnight boys. I love you.”

“Goodnight, mama.” Air kisses fly back and forth across the dark room before I start down the stairs.

“The days are long, but the years are short.” This statement made by a brilliant mom of 3 has never rung more true to me. There will be no bottling up of sweet voices, only memories and those are only as accurate as my mind portrays them to be.

I want to savor these moments of childhood before I look around and they’re gone.

What do you think? Does your mind immediately go to the worst scenario when your child(ren) is sick? Do you pray more when you feel desperate? Why is that? What can we do, especially as mothers, to relinquish control on a daily, sometimes hourly basis?