When my husband sees this many words – he immediately skims down to the pictures.
“Nobody wants to read that much,” he says.
I hope YOU do.
I hope you pause for a few moments – breathe . . . and find yourself in some of this story.
i bet some of you thought i hung up the towel, or the camera, i should say . . . i wouldn’t blame you.
my blog hasn’t been updated in months . . . my communication skills have been – – well, lacking.
response time to phone calls? to emails? ugh. it’s sad, really.
it’s time, though, to be honest – with myself . . . with you. i feel like a little tiny white mouse stuck on a wheel (actually more like a fat grey one) running, running, running . . . and not really getting anywhere. not only that, but sometimes i feel like there is this crazy two year old who thinks its funny to spin the wheel so that I either have to run faster to keep up, or get caught up in the spin only to fall and have to start all over again. . . .running . . . running.
15 years ago, i graduated from high school.
14 years ago, i had a baby.
14 years ago, i got married.
12 years ago, i had a baby.
11 years ago, i graduated from college.
10 years ago, six college students moved in with us.
9 years ago, i had a baby.
8 years ago, i started homeschooling.
7 years ago, six college students moved out, and i had a baby.
Six years ago, two sweet people got married. i took their wedding pictures – i fell in love . . . with weddings.
Six years ago, i had a baby.
Five years ago, i got on a plane, traveled to a place far away, saw new sights, met new people, photographed a wedding, and fell in love with weddings . . . and with traveling.
Four years ago, i had a baby.
Four years ago, i photographed sixteen weddings in one summer.
3 years ago, i rented out a small space for a photography studio downtown.
2 years ago, i had a baby.
1 year ago, i bought a building – a large building – renovated it, and created a beautiful studio space . . . from nothing.
four months ago . . . .i packed a U-haul and moved – with my babies, and husband (of course) across the country – to the city.
It sounds like chaos, doesn’t it?
It sounds like craziness?
I know it sounds, strange, but I have never seen it as crazy, or abnormal chaos; only just doing the thing right in front of me . . . just kept running.
Just kept living.
It’s actually IN the chaos that I seem to thrive – do my best . . .I see and experience moments – life. It’s what I do.
Until . . .
Well, this move.
Apparently moving across the country . . . to a place that couldn’t be ANY MORE DIFFERENT than the place we have spent our whole lives . . . is way harder than what I ever anticipated.
The terrain is different.
The weather is different.
The cars are different.
Usually, I like different. Usually, I like change.
All of a sudden though, different bega to me. Change scared me. And I have found myself responding differently than normal. Instead of embracing what was right in front of me, I have spent the past few weeks running . . . and hiding. I felt like I NEEDED the big picture. I was no longer content in the moment. You see, when I feel like I am falling or losing control, it’s hard for me to not what to just give up – only do what I have to to survive. So, when thinking about the past ten weeks of Patchwork Photography, I can see that so many things have gone by the wayside. I am not returning phone calls quickly, answering emails quickly, or fulfilling orders as quickly.
As you know, though, work doesn’t get done by itself, and so these past two weeks I have been working through the clock to get projects done.
And do you know what I have found?
God has been so good to me. All the while I have been running, He has been showing me that He is right there next to me. He is in the stories. He is in the moment. His voice is quiet and gentle, but as I look past these last ten weeks, I see hope for what is to come . . .
Through each of my amazing clients, His voice shouts out truth about life and the things that are the most important.
It’s not about where we live.
Not about a house.
He is telling me the importance of family.
of sticking together.
He is reminding me to take note of the little things.
the whispers of love.
He is reminding me that beauty abounds.
in the clouds.
in the colors.
in the shapes.
He is reminding me how important quiet moments are.
Through each story – through each person’s story . . .
I am reminded what is important.
walking life together.
As I look through these last ten weeks worth of images, God continues to remind me that our lives are all intertwined.
Our stories connect.
Even in images like these, I am reminded of the preparation . . .
preparing for moments.
years of thoughts and dreams.
years of prayers and blessings.
preparing for moments.
We all make decisions.
With thoughtful consideration, we make choices.
We go off to college.
We start a family.
We choose new jobs.
In those choices, though, there are people.
There are stories.
We build up our lives . . .
some based on money, or jobs, or the pursuit of that perfect piece of furniture.
I am reminded, in through these images, to build up my life . . .
to build my home . . .
based on love.
I am reminded that life is a great adventure.
A journey meant to be shared.
There were so many moments, in the past ten weeks, where I was reminded about the importance of actions.
actions made in love.
a funky vest.
a sexy book.
a simple gesture of friendship.
and let’s not forget how to have a good time.
sometimes, I am reminded, we create memories.
and sometimes, I am reminded, the moments are here to live in –
to become the memories.
There are people that will come in and out of our lives.
it’s painful to see them go.
painful to let go.
In these images, though, we are reminded of how we are all connected.
Our children will grow up.
We will grow old.
Each step of our journey will become a memory.
thank God for gentle reminders, through amazing people.
through amazing stories.
there is hope.
promise of a future.
Thank you to all my amazing clients, family, and friends for allowing your story to be used to remind me of all that is good in life.
Thank you for walking alongside of and sticking with me as our family has made such a huge transition.
Thank you for your patience. Your understanding. Your graciousness.
Thank you for letting me be a part of your story . . . and for becoming a part of mine.