He is clearly seen.

When I am commissioned to photograph a family, in my heart I am thankful that stopping time in photographs is valued by that family. It’s something I have valued all of my life and to share that with other families is a gift to my soul.

This is the third time I’ve had the honor of photographing this family. Each time I’ve been asked, I’ve been asked for a different reason. This year, a special day brought about the occasion to stop and capture it.

Miss A is making her communion this weekend and her family – all the way from Poland – came in to help her celebrate. Dear Miss A: when I was a little girl, I made my communion in a pretty dress just like you! I understand the excitement of the day – for both you and your family. I am going to be praying for you! I will be praying that this day that is so special to you and your family is a point in time that you mark how important Jesus is in your life. I will pray that above everything else happening on this lovely day that He becomes to you the best friend you’ve ever had. Because above all things, He is the most glorious.

Photographing generations of family love is most likely the most cherished part of making pictures for me. Photographing my friend’s sister and father along with her and her daughter just made my heart happy. I hope that you can see in my photographs from this session what I felt while looking through my lens. Lots of love.

I had to pull some of the older photographs out because it’s hard to believe how beautiful and grown up Miss is getting. I remember taking these, years ago:

Then:

Now: more beautiful than ever before.

Not going too far back this week. I’m just going back to last summer. I’m not the kind of girl to ever wish time away. It’s just too precious for that. However, I’m longing for boating weather. Anxious to get out on the water.

Dear Mak & Liv:

My hands are under running water. I can see the water. I watch it fall over my hands. The water is warm and I feel it. I really feel it. And then it’s gone. It’s on my hands and I take it in fully but moments later it has disappeared.

Our days together feel like water on my hands. I concentrate on feeling it, on really feeling it and then it’s gone.

The memory of so many days is just gone. The moments are in my heart, I’m sure. I just can’t pull all of them out of my mind – I couldn’t replay them back to you if I tried.

So as your mama, I jot things down. I have scraps and journals and books of papers with little memories. Notes to myself. I find them everywhere.

Sometimes I feel like I’m always teaching. Always on. Always trying to impart some bit of wisdom I’ve gained. And I do think that is important but tonight I don’t want to impart anything. I just want to capture the water. I want to hold a moment of this week’s water in my cupped hand and never let it go.

Lu – this week we were driving down the street and you saw a Molly Maid’s car. Driving in the car alone with you is so wonderful. Truthfully, some days it’s not so wonderful. On days when I’m really tired, it’s hard. This week, though, I enjoyed the millions of questions you asked. I loved hearing every thought that tumbled through your brain. These were your thoughts earlier this week:
“Mama, what are Molly Maids?”
“If you pay them, they will come and clean your house for you,” I smiled.
“Will they put decorations up for you – like for holidays and stuff?”
Giggle. That’s what I do. I giggle. And soak in your words.

Mak – it’s been hard lately. I feel like I teach at every turn. You are getting frustrated. Several times over the last week I’ve asked you questions like this: “how does that measure up against Scripture?” or “Do you believe that just because someone told you? Didn’t you dig into the Word for yourself?” More and more your irritation with the questions I ask is visible. I understand. But it’s my job. Everything has to be measured against God’s Word. Everything. Today when I began asking you these questions about something, your voice raised and you began to show much irritation. I didn’t stop. I can’t. It’s too important. It’s too important to make certain that you are thinking for yourself and that you are going one place to determine what is right and what is wrong. One of the most important jobs entrusted to me as a mother is to make sure that you are a woman that thinks; a woman that thinks with a biblical worldview about everything. What I’m trying to capture in my heart today, though, is your gentle spirit. Later tonight, after our words and on the way home from piano, you said: “mama, I’m sorry I got frustrated earlier.” “I understand,” I said, “I’m sorry, honey, it’s too important for me not to challenge you.” You looked at me and smiled, saying “mama, I’d be lost if you didn’t do what you do.” Thank you for that, sweets. At 14 years old, how do you even have an inkling about what I’m doing? At 14 I was so far from where you are. God has been gracious to you. Yes, He has.

With my heart, sweet young ladies – I love you deeply.
Mama

I miss going to see live shows. I really do. Whether it be a large scale concert or a local band, it’s something I loved once and miss very much because I just don’t do it as much as I once did.

We try to take the girls as often as possible to see live music – lives shows actually, of any kind. This weekend we took them to see Trevor Morgan, Tenth Avenue North and Third Day. I like shows like that. Like minded people coming together to hear great music. You’ll see in one of the photographs, Liv would have jumped up on the stage if she could have!