welcome to the blog! please enjoy my ramblings, pictures, and more!
I don’t think there’s anything quite like how fresh a grin is on a kid during the summer! They have curls in their hair, endless opportunities to play, scrapes on their knees, and oh so much joy. And somehow, kids always come out of summer looking a little older than they did at the start. These precious little bursting-with-joy kids grew up a bit too much for my heart to handle this summer, but I’m glad the joy hasn’t left their faces one bit.
I was shocked by the relenting midwest humidity and heat on the first Monday of August with some cool temperatures, a breeze, and even a smell in the air that gave me autumn feels. I would normally enjoy a day off from the stifling 90s, but the impending cooler temperatures this year have my anxieties a little heightened as I think about continuing to social distance from folks but not having as much flexibility to see friends outside. So to keep those anxieties at bay, I sat outside in the cool August Monday air to write about the goodness of that day.
There’s a chill in the air this summer day
As though the sun got turned down over night.
The cool rush of winds makes the garden greens sway
And the ice cream truck has few friends in sight.
It’s not time for pumpkins or sweaters yet
Too cold for ice cream but too warm for soup
Last night’s long rain makes the ground feel so wet
And I fear autumn is making its swoop.
I’m not ready for the good greens to disperse
Nor watch the flowers close up one last time
Twenty-eight winters I’ve had to rehearse
And still the fading warmth feels like a crime.
But in cool breeze is beauty of seasons
That bring to light their own special edens.
I recently found some beautiful, simple flowers growing out of my basil plants, and those little blooms brought me such joy. They were an unexpected gift atop my basil. Yes, I’ve seen flowers grow from basil before, and yes, I know that I must prune those flowers away for the healthy basil to grow. But I still experienced such a joy from them, especially in knowing that I did not plant those flowers but simply got to witness them in their simplicity and beauty. So often, I forget I have a Maker, a gardener of my soul, growing his beauty in and around me, doing a work only he can do.
I was so thankful for their blooming appearance, that I wrote a short poem about them.
I planted basil in a bright green pot
Amongst greens and lettuces for salad
And right beside the sweet potato plot.
What great potential in that green basil!
As the green basil flourished wide and tall
I’d pluck a sprig to flavor and savor.
Even hung some stems to dry on the wall
So come winter I’d still reap my labor.
That basil was grown for use and good smell
Planted for purpose and a tending ease
Though that bright shade of green made sweet tears swell,
I thought that basil had no more to seize.
But flow’rs grew top that basil one morning,
Beauty I did not plant now adorning
It’s pretty hard to fathom what it must have been like wrapping up high school amidst sheltering in place and weary days of seeing years of injustice continue to plague our world. Not one bit of that reminds me of the end of my own senior year, filled with field trips, ceremonies, prom, and more. But even still, graduation, especially this year, is worth celebrating! I loved getting to capture some seniors and hear about the crazy end to their time in high school and their hopes for the year ahead. They are brave ones, and I am glad to have heard bits of their story as we celebrated with photos.
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A few too many summers ago, I spent the summer working at a camp in the Northwoods of Wisconsin, living life outside with old and new friends and surrounded by trees - it was my ideal kind of summer. I have a journal of stories of how the Lord worked in my life that summer, and my mind has been drifting often to one of them in particular.
One long, 13-hour night, two friends and I canoed 54-miles from camp to the nearest “big city” of the Northwoods. We began at 6pm, all of the paddlers staggering their departures, and we even got to be the first to kick-off the race. First, before I go on any further, I must acknowledge that my canoe partners did the bulk of the labor - navigating, steering, paddling the hardest, etc. Thanks to them, I have this story to look back on, and I am so glad. The initial energy and excitement lasted for a long time, and we had plenty of different adventures to tackle in the first hours - portaging, navigating as it got dark, wilderness bathroom breaks, and more - all these new adventures amidst the slow, steady rhythm of paddling over and over. The familiarity of paddling was a comfort as we crossed what seemed to be an endless lake called Rainbow Flowage in the dark of the night. I’ll never forget seeing a flashing red light, far across the lake, and feeling like it was not getting a bit closer. I thought crossing Rainbow Flowage in the night was going to be the greatest mind game to conquer on these 54-miles.
Eventually though, we made it across that lake to the river that would flow us to our final destination. At this point, the darkness was waning, and I found a quick burst of energy in knowing that the Wisconsin River would be our last big step. There was no longer any ounce of doubt about our navigation choices; we just had to paddle the river around each bend and turn, and we’d get there. Rivers are lovely places to canoe, all sorts of trees to look at and the coolness of their shade to enjoy. We made it to the river around 4am, and with that, the sun started to inch its way to the horizon. Maybe you aren’t a morning person and don’t often see 4am (I definitely don’t tend to see that hour), but there is something about 4am that feels so ambiguous and discomforting - it’s not dark any more but also not yet light. It’s an in-between, a liminal space of knowing what’s behind you and not yet entering into what’s ahead of you. As we wound through the river, that hour of in-between seemed to last longer than the entire night behind me, and even the slow increase of sun above the horizon could not be seen because of the dense covering from the trees. I viscerally felt the tension of not knowing if the sun would rise, not knowing if I would see the light and cross the finish line. And to add to the tension, as my mind became more and more consumed, my paddling became weaker. I was slowing us down, which of course added to the tension of being in the same boat with two friends for 10 hours at this point. We were all tired, and I think we’d finished the entire jar of peanut butter at that point too. Once again, thank the Lord for those two pals that carried us on the journey.
These moments have been warmly popping into my mind lately, especially that time on the winding Wisconsin River in the in-between of night and day. Sheltering at home amidst COVID-19 has become its own kind of familiar, just like the rhythm of paddling across the lake in the dark, just keep paddling, just keep paddling. But as we venture into the new phases of what’s next and how do we do life in the months ahead, I feel the ambiguity of the winding river again; I feel the endlessness of the 4am hour where the unknowns are blocking the light of day.
By the grace of God though, we have been taught by the life of Jesus to paddle the winding river, to wait for the light of day in trust and obedience. And praise the Lord, we do not paddle alone! Jesus journeyed into the deepest depths of darkness and conquered death to win us back to him, to give us a dawn and to send his Spirit. Amidst the winding river, I couldn’t see what was around each turn and couldn’t fully grasp when the end would come, but I did know to just keep paddling. So, I will keep doing the familiar acts of paddling through this season - seeking the Lord in his Word, in his Church, in service, and in quiet listening. And I will keep reminding myself that some day, the winding river will end, and I’ll be Home.
I am so thrilled to have met so many families and capture them from a distance the past month!
It was a gift to me to see so many smiles, hear plenty of laughter, and enter ever so briefly into their stories. Some families kept it chill and goofy; others chose to take advantage of the excuse to dress up and smile. Each family was different, but each one was just especially thankful for the moment, and as was I.
Hats off to all the families braving this season - it’s a joy to know you.
O Lord, here I am again
pressing play on yet another virtual gathering;
Here I am again,
experiencing a taste of community
and yet lacking the true savoring of deep fellowship;
Here I am again
fighting the urge to consume this gathering passively,
while searching for togetherness on a screen.
How often Lord,
you must feel the hurt of my divided attention and wandering desires;
How often Lord,
you must long for me to be fully present to you in body, mind and spirit;
How often Lord,
do I stare at a screen and quickly forget your presence;
Even now, O Father,
you are building a table in the wilderness for this gathering;
Even now, O Christ,
you are preparing the feast of yourself for this gathering;
Even now, O Spirit,
you are leading me to your goodness at this gathering.
Grow in me, Lord,
a deeper awareness of your desire to be fully with me;
Grow in me, Lord,
a deeper desire to be fully with you;
Grow in me, Lord,
a deeper gratitude for your steadfast presence.
By your grace, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
be present to me in this gathering.
And by your constant communal presence,
make me ever present,
present to to your gardening hand and mysterious win,
present to your people amidst their joys and sorrows,
present to myself in my body, mind, and soul.
Presence, Lord, is what I long for,
And presence Lord, is what you give me now.
A couple days into spring, as well a shelter in place order, brought a typical midwest spring snow storm, and although I wanted to mope, I ventured out to my nearby forest preserve, where there is a tree that takes my breath away every time I see it, and especially when I hike up the hill to be closer to it.
Each year, I forget one of the lovely aspects of a spring snow storm: the unique juxtapositions of winter and spring together. Robins perched in snowy trees, daffodil buds covered in snow, green grass prickling through snow - such spring joys woven into the winter wonder. Although I see the beauty and gift of winter, it’s definitely a harder season for me, with the lack of sunshine and the dark apathy that comes with it. So when glimmers of spring begin popping up, my heart too begins to come into the hopeful sunshine. This spring snow walk though, reminded me of the gift of the in-between, the liminal space between what was and what will be. The winter reminders amidst the spring season teach me to cling to hope, remind me that Light always scatters the darkness, even when darkness feels everlasting. So often, we must carry contradictory feelings and experiences - hope and doubt, joy and sorrow, beauty and pain, celebration and mourning. I sometimes wish these could all come perfectly boxed up, one at at time, but then I remember how amidst the darkness, I need the reminders of hope to get me through. My experience in the darkness fans into flame my yearning for the Light, for all the wrongs to be made right.
So, even though I don’t prefer winter and am absolutely ready for full on Spring (which usually in Illinois is two days long before it’s 95 degrees and 1000% humid), I am deeply thankful for the longing that winter teaches me, the longing for Light, for hope. And I am delightfully surprised by the unique gift of winter and spring together, holding the space for us to cling to hope.
Here we are, in what feels like the most bizarre season of life ever: sent to our homes, avoiding human contact, having conversations 6-feet apart, and working remotely. There is an overload of information, enough opinions to burst a worldwide bouncy house, and decisions changing hourly. As this all panned out over the weekend, I found my anxiety growing, mostly around the fears of the unknown (cue Frozen 2’s “Into the Unknown” song on repeat). But this week, the unknown became a bit more known: there will be a long season of isolation for us. That’s when my anxiety rooted a bit deeper in the dirt for me - how can I handle this change? When will I be able to hug my toddler friends? How will I be able to know how my friends are doing without seeing their faces? Who will put their hand on my shoulder when I’m stressing? Why are all these quarantine resources for families? How will I face the darkness of loneliness I so often know too closely already?
And then, in the weeds of the questions, came the temptations to plunge deeper into the anxiety - feeling jealousy towards families getting to experience togetherness, feeling selfish frustration that the events where I get to taste a bit of family are being cancelled one after another, feeling shame that I am the cause of my loneliness, and feeling a worthlessness in not getting to serve the families I know well. These feelings are not new to me - they are the carousels that come around often for my heart. So I invited Jesus into the weeds, into pruning my anxieties and revealing his gardening hand. And just as Jesus has revealed over and over to me the gift of singleness, he too began revealing the gift of social isolation as a single person as well. Don’t get me wrong, I’m lamenting plenty, going crazy just wanting to hug somebody, and am having plenty of less-than-glamorous responses to life (ie throwing a lot of objects and rolling my eyeballs way far back). But as the anxiety is being uprooted, expectancy is being planted in my heart. I expect the Lord to work; I expect the Lord to grow something good; I expect the Lord to tend to my heart and tend to my people’s hearts; I expect the Lord to be present. Six years ago now, a pastor prayed for the expanding of my imagination, and that little phrase has been one of the greatest gifts. Though I feel much angst about potential loneliness, my imagination is expanding to what this season could hold.
As a single person, I love to tap into the specific gift of singleness, which for me, typically looks like using my time to serve families – holding screaming babies during that blurry hour between afternoon naps and dinner, running to the store for groceries or bandaids, showing up and having a kitchen table conversation with a kiddo, and the like. I love this, as it is a gift I can both give and receive. It fills my heart in a special way. So here am I, not getting to do any of that! I turned to the Lord, asked him to expand my imagination and teach me to wield the gift of singleness amidst social distance. And below is what he gave me! I think these are universal to us all, not just single folks, but I am thinking especially of those living alone.
Be with community in prayer – when we enter into prayer, we go into the world, just as Christ commands us to do. During this season, I’m using all my meals (and my boredom snack times) as prayer times, to pray for our world, to pray for the sick, to pray for families feeling overwhelmed by being cooped up, to pray for the unemployed, to pray for healthcare providers, and to simply ask the Lord to reveal to me how to pray. As I began praying more intentionally, I already felt a connectedness I thought had been stripped of me.
Express gratitude for your community – thankfulness is usually one of the first things to go out the door for me during anxious seasons, so I started listing all the ways I’m thankful for my community. I started with one family, and I filled an entire page! I sent them a note letting them know how thankful I am for them, and I felt closeness with them and the Lord.
Get over the fear of burdening your friends and call them – as a single person, I tend to think if I have needs, I am burdening friends amidst the craziness of their family life - what a lie! Phone calls, FaceTimes, texts, and even social media are all going to be avenues for connection - what a privilege we have! If I stay in the mindset of fearing being a burden, I’ll eventually harbor some subconscious bitterness. There’s no need for that, just pick up the phone!
Find creative ways to serve your community – we are all gifted uniquely, and these Holy Spirit given gifts can transcend isolation. Serving one another is a deep joy, and there are still ways to serve, even if we’re alone! I love writing encouraging notes and making playlists, so those are two simple ways I am going to be with my community through service. I am also planning approximately 7 different post-virus parties on pinterest, so there’s that too. Expect an invite.
Smile a big, goofy smile a whole lot – being sans human touch like hugs and handshakes or simply being in close proximity to people means a decrease in that glorious oxytocin that gives us the warm fuzzies. So, I’ve been smiling more, even when I don’t want to. I smile at strangers from 6-feet away when I am on my walk, and they smile back!! I smile amidst the pure mayhem that is the grocery store. I smile on video calls, even the work-related ones (sometimes). I smile in the mirror during my eternal handwashing. Smiling gives me some of that joy I so often received from others.
Pay attention to your body and up the self-care – this is definitely one for all us, single or not. Our bodies take on even the smallest stress, so it’s a good time to pull out all the stops for taking care of our bodies. For me, this is a huge way of honoring the Lord and honoring the dignity he bestows upon me as his daughter. I want to take care of this body, not forget it amidst the stress. I’ll be doing lots of outside walks, lots of nourishing soups (thank you mountainous bone broth supply in my fridge), plenty of stretching to find where I am carrying new stresses, MANY dance parties, and more.
Receive the gift of being alone with the Lord – I don’t take this gift lightly. I already found myself having plenty of time to be alone, to be in prayer and the Word, but now I have even more time. This is a true gift from the Lord. He loves to be with his children and cherishes this time. I want to receive all that the Lord has for me in this season and consider myself blessed. I know I could throw this time away with angsty moments, binging shows, and scrolling endlessly, but I may not always have this kind of time on my hands, and I want to experience the Lord’s fullness in it.
So, as my imagination expands in this weird season, I pray yours is expanding as well. I pray that out of God’s glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3). The Lord’s love surpasses our social distance, and for that, I am truly thankful.
I had a work team retreat in Chicago recently, and we ventured over to Garfield Park Conservatory for a little frivolity and soaking up of the humidity and plants. I love the friends I get to work with, and one of them happens to have a baby coming any day now that I cannot wait to photograph!
Any work day that includes plants is my kind of work day, that’s for sure!
Probably one of my greatest joys in life is to be a spiritual momma in the family of God. I love this calling God places on me as his daughter to be a mother in the Church. Parenthood is at the center of the reality of the Trinity— the relationship between Father and Son. Our culture teaches us to separate our identity as men and women from our identity as fathers and mothers, but in the household of God, every man is a father and every woman is a mother. In understanding our identity as children of God, made in the image of God the Father, who are called into full maturity as men and women, we must understand our identity as fathers and mothers.
I have no biological or adopted children; my household family consists simply of me, but my eyes have opened to what it means to be part of the household of God. I have an abundance of spiritual family members — full of daughters, sons, mothers, and fathers. God used his Church to reveal this lesson to me and gently invite me into faithfully following his command to love him with all my heart, soul, and mind and to teach this command to my children (Deuteronomy 6). Just as none of the Israelites were exempt from the commands God directed Moses to give, whether they were young, old, single, or married, I too must impress the command to love God on my children. So, the question on my heart was no longer, “why am I not a mother yet” but rather, “who are my children, Lord,” which I discovered is a question the Lord delights to answer. As I asked that, he revealed to me certain children that he was calling me to disciple; some of those were actually in their childhood years on earth, and all of them were God’s children in need of shepherding. I began praying for these specific people and meeting with them to read the Bible and pray together. I discipled these children as a mother — a mother that so fiercely loves her children and will sacrifice much for her flock. Through being on mission with these spiritual children, the Lord’s calling of me to be a mother came to fruition. Calling and identity are most tangibly experienced when we’re on mission – mission is where we look more like Jesus.
Family is a gift, and spiritual family has come to mean so very much to me as I live more fully into my spiritual motherhood call. During a recent trip west, I enjoyed time with some dear spiritual family members, and I very cautiously let a little 4 year old snap some photos on my camera. She is a pro in training, no doubt about that, and she even captured some photos I immediately fell in love with and that really portray all the goodness I feel about the gift of being a spiritual momma.
Though I am deeply thankful for the beauty of winter and am always game to brave the cold for a good winter walk, my bones needed a bit of a thawing out this year! I spent all fall and the start of winter doing some intense care and health treatments for my body, and to celebrate, I gave myself a few days to escape to the sandy sunshine of California! And as if the beaches, clear skies, and warm sun weren’t enough of a treat, some of my very favorite people hosted me and even let me snap some photos of them!
This little getaway was far more of a gift than I could have imagined, and I was already expecting it to be abundantly lovely! I received the gift of long walks and jogs, sand to dig my feet in, rich conversations with friends that deeply and naturally know me, plenty of yummy meals, thriving succulents everywhere I looked, sweeping ocean views to stare at, so much laughter, and most of all not having to wear wool socks or my winter coat! I was reminded by that warmth I felt in being so deeply known by my friends of the way the Lord knows me so deeply and delights in being with me. My heart felt a piece of home that I had not felt in a while during my time away, and that sense of home brought an even greater sense of shalom to my being, a shalom I could take with me even when I headed back to the winter wonderland of Illinois. I tend to have a restless spirit, which often serves me well in fighting for wrongs to be made right and for the protection of my people, but sometimes my restless spirit leaves me with deep discontentment and more questions than answers. Sometimes my restless spirit sits on the backburner of my mind at a constant medium heat all day and distracts me from what is in front of me. Sometimes my restless spirit even tries to lead me away from the Lord and toward my own earthly desires. I have to work hard to rein in this restless spirit, especially when I travel to beautiful places that lack windchills and have friends whom I would love to be closer to. So I was especially surprised by the deep peace I felt in California, not anxiously thinking about the end of the trip or what I was missing at home, and even more delightfully surprised by the peace I felt in returning home. There were tears, definitely lots of big sobbing tears, in the returning, but there was a steadiness in my tears as well, knowing I was going to where God has called me to for this season of life.
I am so thankful for the gift I received in this long weekend trip. The space God gave me to be with him and let him peel another layer of my often restless heart was such a balm. As I returned, the season of Lent was beginning, and I felt so wonderfully prepared to enter the season with great clarity from the Lord. I believe I will consider a yearly pre-Lent retreat to the West as part of my yearly spiritual practices!
A big love of mine is working towards a zero-waste lifestyle - I have a long way to go in not producing trash, but I have still taken a handful of steps over the years that have significantly reduced my trash production. And on top of that, I have found a hobby I love! As a kid, taking out the recycling was one of my weekly chores, and I remember always being confused by everyone’s curbs in seeing 3 times the amount of trash as there was recycling. Little did I know, I’d grow up to find a hobby in recycling
Taking steps towards producing less trash can start today and doesn’t need to be everything at once or a break-the-bank investment. I sometimes just ask myself, “what did my favorite characters on the pioneer shows I watched use to clean and keep their home functioning? They didn’t have Walmart!” Here are few basic ideas I enjoy:
Cloth Napkins instead of paper napkins - easy to make or buy
Cloth towels (unpaper towels) instead of paper towels
DIY Cleaning products (see an easy recipe below)
Reusable grocery bags
Wool dryer balls
Read up on all that is recyclable. And then recycle!
Look for options at the store that include less packaging or recyclable packaging
Beeswax covers instead of plastic wrap & foil
Start composting! An estimated 80% of waste is organic matter.
Build up your collection of reusable food storage - water bottles, glass containers, stainless steel, etc
Repurpose an item! Look for another use for something you’re ready to throw away
Look for places to donate all old clothing, shoes, and fabric
Swap out plastic brushes for a natural wood brush
I like to make my own cleaning products for both health reasons and zero waste efforts. One of my very favorite simple household cleaner recipes is the following:
Fill a jar with any citrus peels (completely cleaned of the citrus fruit): oranges, lemons, limes, cuties, grapefruits, any of them!
Once you have a jar full, fill your jar with vinegar and let it sit for a couple weeks.
During that time, the peels naturally extract their oil and give the vinegar a lovely citrus smell.
Strain out the liquid into a spray bottle (preferably glass!)
For extra scent, add essential oils (then you do need to use a glass spray bottle as oils will eat away at the plastic)
I tend to make my mixture stretch my adding water to dilute it a bit.
I also use them for my toilet & bathroom cleaner by adding a splash of vodka to the bottle instead of diluting with water.
I am currently re-reading the Narnia series, but this time, I am reading them aloud to young child I mentor, and I’ve never more thoroughly enjoyed these stories as I have in watching the face of a child as I read aloud - his imagination is bursting with every chapter, craving the world of Narnia. As I witness his own imagination expanding, I too find myself wanting to enter into another world and discover some whimsical magical world. The best way I know how to ignite my imagination s through a good long romp int he woods. So on a sunny day recently, I pulled on my snow boots and escaped to a nearby forest. I lost track of time, took deep breaths, got lost a couple times, found some wildlife, and even did some makeshift sledding down the side of a steep hill (hills = as close as I get to mountains in Illinois). These couple hours outside were a balm for my cooped up body and sparked a joyful lightness in my heart. Much of the work of soul care is simply learning what tools and activities quiet me the most so that I can be with the Lord, and the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized how critical quiet time in nature is for my soul. I feel a rightness there that I don’t tend to feel anywhere else. So even when the temperatures are a little too cold and the snow a little too slippery, I head into the wilderness and always come out with thankfulness and peace.
My dear neighbor baby friend is all kid these days, and he barely stands still, which makes it hard in these cold winter months when we spend so much time inside. He has continually taught me about light in dark seasons, and these winter months have thankfully included more of that. He is also the model that helps me grow and grow in photography - last spring he got many a photos taken as I was getting comfortable with a new lens. And now, I am learning a new camera I recently got, so it’s time for him to shine for me! Though he’s a mile a minute, he still knows how to ham it up from time to time when I whip out my camera, and for that, I am so thankful.
Summer and autumn filled my soul so much - getting to capture families so regularly throughout the seasons, enjoy being outside, and seeing the beauty of creation in those months. So, I took advantage of a few warm-ish days this winter to capture a couple families, and although we had to do a lot of alternating between putting on coats and taking photos, it was still a gift to be out in the winter air witnessing the miracle of creation and the gift of these families.
First, I got to capture a very fun large group family - I simply adore these generations shoots. Between the beautiful full group shots to the sweet snuggles from grandma and auntie, it was such a joy to hang out with this precious family.
Next, a dear co-worker friend of mine had family coming into town from all over the world, so they celebrating being together with some family photos! I enjoyed walking around downtown Wheaton, braving the cold for the chance to capture this family.
December was filled with plenty of joy, and though I was bummed to see the end of fall family photo sessions, I still found a few fun opportunities for photo fun!
First, my church City of Light Anglican holds a beautiful service of Lessons and Carols during Advent, where we journey through several Bible readings leading up to Christ’s birth through art, dramatic readings, music, and beauty. This service overflows with beauty, and I felt so thankful for the chance to not only get to snap some pictures but also got to play oboe for several songs - I studied oboe in college, and though I rarely get the chance to play nowadays, I still deeply enjoy it. There was a theme of light woven throughout this service, and no one image could fully capture the immense beauty of light scattering the darkness, which we celebrate with the birth of Christ.
Next, I enjoyed photographing a local school’s basketball game. Sports photography is definitely out of the realm of my normal family photo fun, but I was so glad for the chance to learn a thing or two about sports photography and about basketball too! Those high schoolers are incredible athletes!
October and November were a full season of family sessions, and I had such a blast! So much of a blast that I didn’t have time to keep up with posting! I was so thankful for each family that invested in a family session and absolutely loved getting to meet many different families. Each session is a chance to meet with old and new friends, as well as spend time outside, and I simply adore both of those activities. Check out some highlights from these sessions below!
My dear godson just turned 3, and I am head over heels for this little nugget. Each year has gotten sweeter and more fun, especially now that he uses so many words! I love getting to talk with him about his observations of the world around him. He is constantly helping me re-enter into childlike faith and simple joy, which is such a gift. I simply cannot believe he is THREE! Happy birthday, my dear big G.
The sun has not made much of an appearance this weekend, and so I need a reminder that it was out a few days ago! I got to snap some family photos as part of my adoption fundraiser on a BRIGHT sunny Saturday, and along for the session was the family kitten, an aunt from across the ocean, and even several dance moves from the daughter. It was a simple afternoon of capturing family being themselves.
