Traditions seems to be something that have become more and more important to me as an adult. I have been very intentional about the making of certain ones since I have had children. As a child, Thanksgiving Day was one that I so crisply remember. The smell of my grandmothers turkey and the day she started listening to Christmas music along with setting out her manger scene. I got lost for hours as a child, staring at her manger scene and soaking in the words to Silent Night, being breathed on by god himself. I’ll never forget those moments and seasons that gave me some sort of anchor. The certainty of there coming and that glorious mystery of hope that I felt in them. I have always looked to the future, even in my desires to have many children. I have always identified myself as the grandmother that I will be. I long to have a home full of children and grand children. I have always pined over the idea of a future FULL of family and legacy and love. Some days, my hope into the future of these seeds we are sowing is my anchor. I wont be ashamed. I will be full. I have been intentional over my celebration of family in my home, even when it is only us… because I want my children to know that we and what we have and stand for are worth celebrating in fullness. We love the holidays and the traditions we have created. I love to cook a huge Thanksgiving feast of homemade and heartfelt food! I love this day with my family. I have put a lot of heart into this day since my children were born and this year was the first year of a new kind of reaping through the years of laboring in it. My whole family put their whole hearts in it too!! I mean they owned it, lived in it and were a part of all the magic and the work behind it. The children all helped in such an amazing way. IT WAS GLORIOUS YALL! ..and with all the help it was actually completely relaxing. Everyone kept saying how wonderful and enjoyable the day was and what a pleasure our meal was. It was truly beautiful. It was ours. The fruit of labour over the years. I am so THANKFULL.
*I am working on a new series inspired by mothers with their children. It is so easy as mothers to get lost in the labor of mothering that we can be blinded to the true beauty of what we are really doing and who we are. The weight of glory and influence we have in the life of these precious souls entrusted to our care can easily be overshadowed by the hustle. I would love to capture YOU, the essence of your heart and soul and spirit along side of your children. Our stories need be told and our souls seen…brought to remembrance, even for ourselves. My calender is now open and booking for mother/children stories and portraitures. Please contact me for details. Lets make something beautiful!
Meet my friend and stunning fine art and styling photographer, Anna and her darling Isabel. Beautiful soul, friend, daughter, and MOTHER.
Fair Graces, Most elegant of Faces
Mother Divine. A Love, all Mine.
Victories Won over days laced in “normal”. Passions subsided by this tiny hand held dear.
Little soul, on my broken parts you lean. From my depths you incessantly glean. Only in part can we now see. Souls entangled. The deepest ravine.
Long nights longing for a better today. Sorrow for my distraction. Cares that lead my away.
Mostly in the quiet can I breath you in. Prayers for my darling. My future, My friend.
Tiny heart bursts at the seams. Freedom awaits us. Magnificent Wings.
Eyes dark, an embruing satin. My clear reflection. My most radiant depiction.
My small love, I carry your song….some days in weakness, some days strong. No matter the pains, stress. Disdains.
My heart for you will carry on lasting and true..for it once was divided into two…..the me and the you .
War rages within us.
The war between the flesh and the spirit. Good and Bad. Death and Life. Love and Hate. Truth and Lie. Resentment and Forgiveness. Hope and Despair. Shame and freedom. Darkness and Light.
Life will, as a guaranty offer us all many experiences to harbor and nurse pains, isolation and offense. It will hand us unobtrusively the keys to death and defeat, sneaking in faced as realism.
Waging war upon this darkness does not look the same for all of us and in every season. Never assume someone is not fighting, because their sword you are unaware or unfamiliar with.
Sometimes I wield
my sword in silence, sometimes….
…..this weekend my camera was my sword and no matter how unspiritual it may appear to someone, I waged war against death on levels deeper than words could have penetrated for myself and a multitude of lies only my own soul can comprehend. Heres to the fight and cheers to the winning.
Must we always comment on life?
Can it not simply be lived in the reality of Christ’s terms of contact with the Father,
with joy and peace,
fear and love full to the fingertips in their turn, without incessant drawing of lessons and making of rules? ~elizabeth eliot