364 days of 33

Today is the last day that I will ever be 33. And honestly there is so much that happened the year I was 33, that I don't want to forget.


Was this my favorite year? No. No it wasn't, thankyouverymuch. 

Very likely more than any other day-before-my-birthday I feel older. Logically, I am indeed, "older than I've ever been", right?  :)

I hang around a university campus a lot, due to my wild crush on the janitor (I've always been slightly stalker-ish. He doesn't seem to mind). And I swear they let those kids in younger and younger... See, I even SOUND like your grandma.

But here's the thing. While I acknowledge the multiplying gray hairs, the changing metabolism, the babies who call themselves college freshmen (Don't even get me started about kindergartners, AKA infants, they let into the elementary school), while I am realistic about time moving forward, I am for sure not grieving it.


Most significant lessons learned this year:

1) This quote by Lewis ~

So those days when I try to "fix" everything that is making me uncomfortable/inconvenienced/unhappy - and nothing seems to be working? Just taking a moment to say "Ok. Where I live, there's a lot of stuff that's broken. It's temporary." That is huge. That makes a difference in my heart.

And believe me, I am a fixer. I want to fix it and make it better and make it right. That's not bad! I am working in cooperation with a REDEEMING God, so it's from Him. And yet, I am not God. And he is using my present challenging circumstances to bring himself glory and prepare me for eternity with Him.


2)  "In quietness and trust is your strength." Isaiah 30:15

Some years, on January 1st, I have a word or phrase I like to identity as my "word for the year". One year it was "Reckless" as I felt a conviction to love extravagantly, with no thought for my own gain. Once it was brave. At the beginning of 2015 I couldn't get "quiet" out of my heart as I contemplated what my word for the year would be. 

But really? Because       Brave,  Reckless        Quiet.     - Well, that seems a little anticlimactic, no? 

No. It doesn't They DO build on one another. And I am so grateful for the guidance that has led me to this understanding. I am getting stronger in alot of ways this year. And I am finding a true strength in quietness. Quieting my heart, quieting my fears, yes, even quieting my mouth. :)  By no means am I shrinking down from bravery and boldness. It's a different kind of quiet. Study the word quiet, and study what The Word has to say about it. It is one very courageous characteristic to attain to. 

3)  You can't worry and worship at the same time.  

Kind of piggy backing on number two, it is in the quieting of my heart and the quieting of my fears when I truly experience pure worship. And that pure worship -  it is like the most refreshing cup of cool water I have ever experienced. Do you know why? I was created to worship. Therefore, I WILL worship. But what will I worship? Oh how it grieves my heart for lost time when I realize how often I have inadvertently worshiped my worries.... That's a miserable place to be.  

I am worrier. I have that down pretty good. So, knowing that worry and worship can not co-exist forces me to choose.  


4)  My kids are kids. They are not adults. They do not have the ability to process/function/respond like an adult. They need grace.  

I don't think I have to really expound on that one much. ;)  


5)  I am not on earth to feel good. I am not here to set goals that would result in my success, security, exaltation, or ....comfort.  

I will be learning this when I am 34. And 35, 36, 37...... 105. But it is starting to really sink in and take root. 


 6)  Grace is so multifaceted that it can never be fathomed or explained in simple terms. And it is everything. It is just everything.  

I have been grappling with the definition of grace for years. One day a few weeks ago something finally fell into place in my mind. It may sound really silly to some - but it was my moment of understanding that grace is way bigger than I can humanly "define" it.  I was standing at my kitchen window.  

"Hmmm. Grace. Grace, grace, grace. Favor? Goodwill? Unmerited, no doubt.  Grace. Instructs us? Is for all. Brings salvation. Can not be earned. Hmmm." 

How can one "thing" be all that?? And so.much.more.

Because it is. Because God. 


So as I peer out my window I see this beautiful stack of wood out by our outdoor wood burner. I mean this thing has been stacked by a perfectionist (who I sometimes stalk..). It's downright pretty. Over the top of it is a tarp. The tarp reaches from one side to the other and drapes over the top. It is enough to protect our wood pile from the elements, but does not cover the front and back. I watch the wind pull on that tarp. 

And in my peripheral vision I catch the flickering flame of my black cherry candle. It's been burning for some time, causing a large pooling of wax at the base of the wick. So there's that heart nudging in this moment that says, "Grace... is not like that tarp covering the wood pile. It would be like if you brought a huge ol' burnt candle out there and held it upside down above the wood pile."  

So I'm having this vision of copious amounts of hot wax cascading down this wood pile. It doesn't just cover. It layers. it drapes. It covers. It fills in the cracks. It clings. It coats. 

And so it is with grace.  Maybe wood piles, tarps, and wax don't speak to you -  ;) after all, it was "my moment", I am a very visual learner/visionary. But I think you can at least track with me here that this grace thing is a dynamic and significant gift. One we can't quite wrap our human minds around. But wrestling with this gift does help us to become more and more grateful for it.  


So, I am recording these things to come back to. I'm grateful for every day, every week, every month that shaped me this year. The milestones, the growing, the building, the sweet togetherness, the friendships grown, the beauty  

AND

the kidney stones, the surgery, the battles and the frustrations. While every single thing was not God's perfect will (I will.not.believe that kidney stones were ever a part of the world that God said "it is very good" about) ;),  just like He is - just like His character -  he has used/is using every single circumstance in my life. And I am grateful! 

Adios 33.  *clink* (Quick, go get your favorite drink!) You were a great building block.

In which I learn to embrace the INTENSE

I'm in the midst of a "parenting breakthrough" so, of course, I had to rush over here and record it. Because I will forget.

Because I climb right back into the trenches far too easily.

Because I am oh-so-human.

Over the last few years I have struggled with how tough some parenting scenarios are, that I have to deal with. I have often compared my kids with some of my friends kidos - 

And I have found myself continually thinking....

                             

                                                 If only I did A)

                                                                      or B)

                                                                             or maybe even C)      differently,

They would be good.

We wouldn't have this struggle.

They wouldn't fight...   {All. The. Blasted. Time}.

My kids. 

The kids I prayed to conceive, 

prayed for in the womb,

prayed over their little bassinet for, 

dedicated them in front of my church family and God.

Those ones. 

They haven't liquefied and molded themselves into the shape that I thought they would 

                                 by now.

I mean, geez. They are 11, 9, 7, and 5.

SURELY by now..........

Right.

These beautiful, amazing, miraculous,

dirty, rotten sinners.

{Isaiah 64:6}

{Romans 3:23}

Just like their mama.

SURELY by now she should've........

Maybe stopped comparing?

Maybe counted it all joy?

Maybe seized the moment and chose contentment?

Yes.

While I fully realize that comparison has stolen my parenting joy 10 times out of 10, I do have to say that God has gifted Dave and I with

Very Intense Children.

Sometimes when I am having a conversation with another mama, and I hear about some sweet soft things in the life of her child, an alarm sounds in my brain.

Signifying that my kids should be doing that...

 - Generous sharing

 - Or immediate obeying

 - Or willing tithing 

And I feel that cold band around my heart. 

"If you were a "better mom". 

If you were more intentional. 

If you had started teaching this in infancy. 

If you were

A)

B)

or C)...............

Now I do realize that all parents have challenges and that I can not make my situation "more noteworthy" than anyone else. 

But For Real. These boys, ya'll. INTENSE.

Oh friends. I am getting it now. While bettering my parenting skills should, and will, always be an open door for me, Staying the course through the thick of it is the key. 

These kids? These boys were given to me by God. They are intense. They just are. And what a joy. They will continue to be. 

We will still have to handle crazy 11 year old fits when we get to the school building. Because we have a boy named K. This is who our family is. We have a K. Not just anyone has a K. ;)

He processes things in a K way. I can't "better mom" my way out of this one. Blast that tendency to always want the "easy way out". While he may grow out of some of the current challenges we face with him, there will be new ones. Always.

We will still have those nights when we are just plain weary, and the bedtime routine is impossible.

{Just GO.TO.BED. Can you do that? Like, lay in your nice comfy bed, shut your eyes and Stay there. Dang it} 

{Bless their hearts} 

We will still have mornings, getting ready for school, that make me want to dig my eyes out with a spoon and run for the hills. 

But the key is that I won't. That comparison and perfectionism will get me nowhere.

No Where. 

But what WILL get me somewhere, what will keep our family moving forward in a way that glorifies God is just 

Sticking with it.

Hanging in there, sometimes with both fists securely wrapped around blessings abounding, 

And sometimes by a 

                                  Very

                                        Thin

                                              Thread

Of simply commitment and trust.

Because see, I could read All The Books.

And go to All The Seminars.

And talk to All The Right People.

But I've just been called to give them my heart.

Do my best.

To Build My House.

{Prov. 14:1}

To love them on those days that I don't really like them.

To stay.

To be faithful and persevere.

To find joy in the God given moments.

To be the heart of my home.

{Ephesians 3:17-19}

{Prov. 31:10-31}

{Luke 12:34}

To stop comparing and simply embrace these unique {INTENSE} personalities. 

Do you have any idea how freeing this new mindset is? It's like I have been freed to love my own boys. Weird. I know. But I don't know how to put it any other way. 

So here's to staying the course, loving well, and embracing the Intense. We're in this together. 

{Not} 31 days of Blogging in October

Hi.

It echoes in here, I think. ;)


In the midst of building a photography studio, from the ground up,

Getting into the full swing of young 5's, 2nd, 4th, and 5th grade,

Coordinating a trip for 18 women from our church to a National women's conference, True Woman '14,

Being knee deep in fall photo sessions,

Finding myself back at the Center for Women weekly,

Cooking pumpkin seeds,

and watching these four small growing people who call me mama, change and mature each day -


I began to notice a few of my blogging friends dive into a "31 days of October" blogging challenge.


~ Ooohhh. Blogging every single day in October! That would be fab.u.lous. ~


For them.
Fabulous for them.  :) And I will read their beautiful posts.

I will peak at them on my phone when I am in line at the preschool. I will sit down to my computer after throwing in a load of clothes. And I will smile. Because I have some greatly talented friends who weave words together like an art.

One of those friends once said that I was blogging "before blogging was cool". ;) And it's kind of true. I blogged to clear my mind. I blogged to gauge where my heart was and to process. I blogged to reach out to other moms; special needs moms, grieving moms.

Right now I am investing much more face to face. While writing will always be a passion, like a special treat to look forward to and relax with, I guess I just don't need my "voice" to be heard so much these days.

For a while I was a little worried, thinking:
"Have I lost my voice? Writing is who I am! What happened?! Is this a crisis?" (Because if I don't have a current crisis to worry about, I'm awesome at making one up...).

I found myself becoming more and more tense as I allowed some jealousy to seep in. I read words that thinly resembled something I could've written. I was used to being the one who could move people with words.... not the one being moved by the words of others. Noticing the unhealthy direction I was going in, I made a decision to open my heart to the talents around me, and back off. I'm too quick to offer words when I may or may not have anything to say. I'm learning to weigh those words carefully.

Ahhh. I do love finding my fingers on these keys. Like I love a good hot cup of coffee. It's kind of a comfort and a delicacy.

I look forward to finding a window of time to write about my Jay and how my heart swells with a sweet love that can only come from watching growth take you by surprise.

And my K. Oh my, that K. So headstrong and independent. Not only walking unassisted, but running. Running like there is no tomorrow.

Kai, who will be 5 in 8 days. Five. That baby boy. He makes my hair grey, you guys.

Noe. Dear one who makes sock snow men for everyone he loves. If you get know, you are a highly honored individual.

My man who is pretty much doing the equivalent of 3 full time jobs. And in his exhaustion, finds time to take my breath away as I observe his posture towards us, his family.

I do, I really do like these smooth keys under my tired fingers. There will be more. Not like 25 more in the next 25 days, but more. 

Hi. I'm a stay-at-home-mom with a child training hangover

Every year we put our backpacks away. We smile the giddy smiles and we are fresh.

 I say, "This year, I will enjoy them. All of the moments, all of the everything. It will be different because I am in a different place and they area older... and it will be different".

We do our big camping celebration and then we enter our New Normal with confidence and excitement.

...And it's not that different. The adjustments are the same, which lead me to the guilt and the "what's wrong with me?!" and the disappointment.

There's plenty of good, and alot of hard. It's just life. I'm begging God for extra strength and extra grace to offer these boys. None of us are used to all being under one roof all day every day. We are navigating the togetherness.

The second day we were back home from camping I ran out of milk. No biggie. We always run out of milk. I'll just jump in the van... and.... Wait. I'll make sure every one is dressed and ready to go. K will need his braces on. And... he's too big for a cart, but doesn't quite have the endurance to walk through the entire store to the back where the milk is. And they will want things. I just need milk. I don't want to hear about all of the things. 

Milk is overrated. Who needs milk anyway? -Not me.

My brain knows stuff - Like the fact that my time has never been my own. How selfish to think otherwise.

I live for higher things. Eternal things. I want to serve my family. It's my ministry.

Truth? - I want to... want to serve my family. But right now?
 I'm rarely alone.
I'm getting up early,
staying up late,
and my time not being my own is taking on a whole new definition.
I'm battling this bigger/uglier desire to be affirmed and to be served.

Just like every year. Oh human nature...


Today K is at Grandma's. And I am grateful. Grateful for her patience with him. Grateful she has been highly involved in his care since birth, therefore is comfortable and used to all that having K entails.

I am grateful for this grace, because I needed a break. And I can either hate that I needed a break, or I can simply say,"Thank you", and breathe. He blesses my socks off and he needs alot. As he gets older, personal care needs take more. He learns so differently, and feelings of inadequacy are never too far under the surface when I am in the trenches of parenting him.

I'm getting used to the noise level, and I am learning when I need to step away for a minute.
Before I feel that rising heart rate and smoldering frustration escalate.
Before the unkind words and ugly little creature of self  reigns.


So much God is teaching me. I am not a fan of being shown my weaknesses, and that is right where I am at now. Trying to humbly see them, having the courage to hit my knees, and repent. To truly turn from selfishness.


Trying to give the tools for "working things out" when the fighting starts (this seems pretty constant right now), disciplining the disrespect, unkindness, and disobedience - I feel a bit like I have a child training hangover....

One thing that has been coming into my heart - loud and clear - is that I need to address gender differences with much more gentle grace.
Because you guys, I have never felt more keenly the fact that

I AM OUTNUMBERED.


The lone female in a home with 5 guys will want to aggressively attack things that seem wrong. That do not make sense to her. That annoy her.


Asking God to open my eyes to what needs to change in my parenting, to see my boys as unique and valuable creations, and nurture my relationship with each one has resulted in.... well, just that. He is answering. He is stopping me in my tracks when I begin to "discipline" that which is not wrong doing.

"It's a boy thing. Leave it alone" - I swear God is whispering that in my ear daily. ;)

The competitive EVERYTHING. What the? I do not care who finished their cereal first.
Or stayed up latest.
Or got up earliest.
Or kicked tail in Mario Kart (Kicked mom's tail in Mario Kart? No.Big.Deal. Everyone does it. Yes, even the baby) ;)
Made the biggest Lego battleship.
Jumped the highest on the trampoline.

WHY? Why does it matter?

Because it does. And much is accomplished when guys are pushed by a drive to do better. Does it need to be channeled and managed? Yes. But it doesn't have to be squelched.

The silly? The loud? The imaginative? The endless talk about

Space
Mine craft
Their imaginary friend
Legos
What-would-happen-if _______________

I know it's investing in deeper relationships with them as they grow up. I know it's good. And sometimes? My brain feels like it is about to melt.

K asks me 10,000  several times a day what I am going to do tomorrow, what I am going to do right now, and what I am going to do after breakfast/lunch/supper/the laundry/bedtime. I know this is his way of having a connection with me. He is communication and ordering his world. But after the fifth time......


My mornings are fresh and I have new resolve. It's after about 8 hours I am done.
Need to breath, need some me time. 
Must.have.quiet.
Overstimulated.

What if we are ok answering 15 questions, but by #16 we start to snap back?

What is we are super fresh and full of self control and kindness in the morning, but after 8 hours or so we have used it up. Can't do it anymore?

And that scripture that talks about our entitlement to "me time"..... oh wait.

Renewing our minds? Yes. Refreshing our spirit and coming up for air? Indeed. But I am challenged with where I think I need to get that refreshment.

I know the answer. I know where I need to renew my strength. I know I can't do this alone. Practically "getting this" and really applying it is the process I currently find myself a part of.


I've always been the "stay at home mom who is hardly ever home". -During the fall and winter I am there with the guys in the morning, and when they get home from school. But other than that - I am constantly on the go. Imagine that. A stay at home mom who.... stays home. ;)

{March} 10 on the 10th

So, yeah - due to limited internet,
a little pre-spring break getaway,
and life… I am more late than usual on this. :)

I'm holdin' on though. I am still doing this project on the 10th of every month, even if I don't get it posted right away. This is pretty much the rhythm of my life right now. Good, good stuff. Good struggle, good joy, good living.

And here we go.




This is what 10 on 10 is all about: taking a photo every hour for ten consecutive hours on the tenth of each month, documenting a day in your life and finding beauty among the ordinary moments. 

The boys are responsible for picking out their own clothes each morning. But sometimes we have a particularly tough time staying on schedule….. And they just LOVE it when I pick out their clothes for them and make "people" out of them. It's the little things. ;) This morning was one of those mornings

Don't let anyone ever tell you that stuffing a bean bag is easy. Ever. 
It's a good thing my mother-in-law stopped by. She may not have known what she was getting herself into, but she was a hero today. ;) 

Boy, do I love this appliance!! Still morning, and supper is ready. Score.

Maybe I can will spring to get here.  Time to get out the dresses. I don't even care {that I might freeze} anymore. 

A quick stop to check out some clearance racks in anticipation of next winter….

The very best part? {Still on a high from this…}

A working Monday. So nice to be back at the Center after a few months off. I love my boss. Except sometimes I'm her boss. But here she's mine. ;) 

Slight addiction. 

…And the mud. Oh my, the mud. 
But really, I have never been so happy to see mud in my life. 
It isn't frozen. "
'Nuff said.

Oh, and I really head over heels love the kid in the mud. 

Life at the beginning of 2014

I thought it was perhaps time for a loosely informative, more free writing type post from over here.  How's that for a preface? *smile*

2014. It's good. I don't make resolutions, per se, but I do have vision. I am a girl full of dreams and desires of betterment.

Can I say though - I am also a girl who has struggled greatly with discipline in the past. I will start out strong, full speed ahead (All The Excitement. All The Good Intentions)…and generally find myself on the up-climb of some steep hill, sputtering out a few, "I think I can's" - but pretty much deciding in my heart that "I know I can't".

But Jesus.  He lives in me. He is strong in me. And that has never been more clear than in the last 6 months. On those inclines, where the Wendi of the past shuts her eyes, and coasts back down (oh so many times), I am now grabbing on to something bigger than myself, and I'm moving upward. So slowly, but forward motion is being made.

2014 - no more coasting backwards. I'm not pretending that doesn't mean sometimes simply standing firm, yet standing still.
But not backwards.

This is proving true with:
Eating
Exercise
Home organization and basic management
Time management
Patience in parenting
Marriage
Teaching
Ministry

I'm feeling some freedom here guys, and that's huge! It's a different kind of freedom than you might think. It's a freedom through discipline and through dependence. Kind of takes some time to wrap your mind around that one.


I'm not going to rant about the cold.
I'm not going to rant about the cold.
Hey - guess what? I'm not going to rant about the cold. ;) I have never really minded winter. I love the beauty of the snow. I have however never been a huge fan of cold. I feel like I am cold 3/4 of the year. :) I am, at this moment, in flannel jammies AND wrapped in a fleece blanket. So yep, this is me not ranting. Silver lining: Twenty degrees (you know, above that little "zero" mark) is so very tolerable.



I'm currently grappling with a barrage of thoughts on what it means to reflect Christ well. These thoughts are longing to be written, and threatening to become a word avalanche I am afraid, but are extremely unorganized as of yet. My heart is still in the truth seeking phase.

I'm going to go out on a limb and jot down some of the essence of those thoughts. As already written though, remember - unorganized and still seeking. 

Thoughts about our "rights" - real and perceived.
They are thoughts on obedience and grace.
What that means, and really - what it DOESN'T mean, that many say it DOES mean.
Um, so that's clear as mud, right?! ;)

Thoughts about the air of entitlement that seems to permeate the American culture. And the Christian culture.  
About being peacemakers,
being gentle,
honoring other's,
loving deeply

…and not being tolerant (by the worlds standards),
lukewarm,
or fickle.

About standing firm on truth.
About refusing to elevate myself based on personal convictions and choices.
Reaching past comfort.
Engaging our culture.
Allowing my heart to break and my hands to get dirty for the Kingdom of Christ.

So, it's alot. There is a slight possibility that my darling husband has had an ear full and maybe even lost out on some highly valuable sleep (his alarm still sounds at 4 am…) due to this mental piecing together that I am in the middle of… (he's wonderful).



I am presently fulfilling commitments, but looking to a time when my schedule will look very different than it does right now.  Around the time that the snow begins to melt, some of my commitments will as well. I am pouring myself into them while it is still cold, for sure. But I know that God's call is falling on some different areas, and that soon…. soon it will be different. Not necessarily less - but more focused and different.  I'm not going to go into these changes much, yet, because nothing is written in stone. When I know a few more details - I'm sure there will be much to say. What I am sure of is this: There will be leading and teaching from God's Word. I will have opportunities to pour into lives, and that makes me infinitely excited!



I have been booking 2014 weddings, and ever so grateful that God has continually brought these my way. One of the best compliments that I have consistently heard from potential brides is that they saw my work, felt my style, and chose me based on how obviously the images reflect my love for what I do. Yes. Goal met. :)


Friends, grab a fleece blanket, some hot chocolate (do not even think about leaving out tons of marshmallows), and just stand firm on this up-climb. It won't last forever. ;)

Be a door with me in 2014

There's this song, and in its profound simplicity -

it is my heart. 

My heart for 2014.


There's a line in it that brings tears to my eyes every time.

"…God put a million, million doors in the world
For His love to walk through
One of those doors is you…"

His love is alive in this world, right now, through us. 
I want to represent Jesus well this new year.

On Christmas Eve I was singing one of my all time favorite Christmas Carols. I felt so moved, almost in grief, as I sang these words,

"Truly He taught us to love one another, 

His law is love and His gospel is peace. "

Because, really? I don't think we have that love one another thing down any better than we understand His gospel of peace. 

And I can't change the world but this year, in 2014, I'm going to be that door. 

One of the million million.

May His love flow through us easily this year, friends.

And oh, if you think that you are too

young/old/uneducated/
simple/fearful/inadequate
busy/unequipped/poor

to be one of the doors that His love can walk through -

well, I've been there done that (yes to all of them).

And His incarnation, death, and resurrection changed that game. It's a complete game changer, so erase all of the labels you put next to your name and just write "door".

One of the million million.

Let's do this.

{When the call comes, and That Door opens}

I've written minimally about my work with the non profit organization Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. Obviously there's confidentiality and  respect for the families, which makes this a rather private endeavor. At this point I have done several of these photo sessions for grieving families. Although I have not yet tried to put many words to my experiences with NILMDTS, my heart and head are very full on this subject.

These are some of my free-flowing thoughts, finally making their way down to the blog. 

For more on this organization, you can see the NILMDTS website. 

********************

I'm behind the door in the space that has been their home for the last 48 hours. Forty-eight excruciating hours.  I'm trying to be as unobtrusive as I can be, to melt into the walls. It's not that I do not want to be there, for I am truly in all action mode and I am ready. I am feeling every bit of the professional that I need to be for the moment.

My eyes are seeking, and my mind is ready. I wait for the moments. I'm watching this family unite and converge in a common grief. No, it's not fun. It's not about fun. It's about Ephesians 2:10. Hearts are shattering all around me, but the peace in my spirit is all consuming, and there isn't a second of anxiety or indecisiveness. I know what I need to do, and I am doing it.

I frame up the family hands clasped around the sweet little baby, so brief a life. My camera comes to my eye and the flash of light suddenly seems too bright. Brighter than it has been in the past. The electronic click that usually dissolves into background noise seems suddenly harsh and startling. I look around. They don't notice a thing, and I am glad. Their focus is on the preciousness in front of them, and the assault of pain crashing down around them. My heart twitches, but it never caves. I know the difference between their pain and my pain. It's not about me. 

Grandpa looks away from baby. I study him for a moment, and catch his far away look with my camera. He glances distractedly in my direction. He's ok with my presence now. I'm glad. He wasn't sure when we met in the waiting room. That corridor overflowing with love and pain and questions. But mostly love. As a stranger looking in, I felt the nearly palpable concern and affection that this group had for one another. I had knelt at each chair and quietly inquired who each individual was, and briefly explained my role in this nightmarish day for them. He hadn't heard, and had approached me warily. Something about him reminded me of my own father; maybe the beard, maybe the gruff cover up for tenderness. I pushed back the intimidation I initially felt, and lightly touched his flannel clad shoulder.

"I'm here to take pictures."

"Yes, she asked for me to come." 

The grieving mother is his baby. The little breath of heaven, now returned there, was to be his first grandchild. IS his first grandchild. And there's no way he can wrap his mind around all of that. He is protective and detached all at once.

"No, I don't work for the hospital."

"No, these photos don't have to be taken."

"No, no money, no orders, they are for you all, and they are a gift. No charge."

He looked up from the floor and for a second he allowed his eyes to look into mine. And we were okay. I don't know what he saw there, but after that, we were ok.

So, I'm still in their "suite", that hospital room with the pale yellow walls and the slight antiseptic scent. I am watching something stunning and ethereal unfold all around me. I stoop down and turn to the side for another perspective. I'm nearly breathless, and how can I explain it? So many people can't grasp why anyone in their right mind would do this job. I can't promise that I am in my right mind, but maybe I don't need to be.

The young father, so focused on his beautiful + brave wife, yet torn by his shock and pain steps to my side. "Thank you, thank you!" - He's already said it so many times, and I just smile. We are all repeating ourselves alot. I've said it before, but I squeeze his hand and just whisper, "She's going to be ok". His gaze is locked on her. She goes from smiles to gut wrenching sobs in seconds.

His best buddy is sitting there; a true dichotomy of tough meets tender. His work boots and inked skin  mean nothing in contrast to the broken sobs.

At some point we exit and return to the red and yellow couches in the waiting area. I don't know when, or where, or how. I'll later realize I was there for over 2 hours, but time has no relevance at the moment. Mr. Ink + work boots tries to get a hold of himself and in a jerky motion points a thumb in my direction while wiping his face with his other hand.

  "I'd hate her job."

His voice is husky and thick with emotion.

I get it. It's very hard to understand.

Why do I do it? Is my heart so walled off that I click the shutter, void of feeling? Oh no. Not even close. But I have a job to do, and it is immeasurably valuable.

So, I approach him and give him the open look that says, "go ahead and ask all that you need to ask".

And he does.

Why?
Do you know of this pain?
Who drives an hour in a snowstorm to do something so heart ripping as this?
{He doesn't say "What is wrong with you?" - but I see it between the words that are uttered}.

As much as none of this is about me, I briefly answer. Yes, I do know some of this pain. And I do it because I know that someday this is going to be a treasure to a family forever scarred. - That those scars will turn to a beauty for ashes story, and these images will be a part of that redeeming process.

And I care. No, I've never met them before this hour, but yes I care. If you don't understand, I don't really have words to express why. My heart is overflowing with a love that has poured into it, and I care. 

His eyes are tender, if perhaps still rather disbelieving. We care for this couple. We are all in this nightmare together, so we say "okay, yes, let's do what we can."

I'm exhausted when I exit the parking structure. You know the adrenaline crash and the emotional effort. Yeah, it's that. But again, peace and fulfillment.

Of course it brings memories, and opens That Door. The door that compartmentalizes the ache of personal loss. There's no way around That Door. To do this work, we go through That Door. But God has covered That Door in softness and peace, and He Himself gently opens it and leads me in - sometimes even carries me in it and through it. And when each job is completed, images retouched and edited, letter written, prayed over and, with love, sent out in the mail, He graciously pulls the door half way shut. 

It's not latched, and certainly not locked. Because shutting the door on my pain shuts the door on my empathy.

And That Door doesn't even shut anymore because the pain is a part of me.

And it will be opened up all the way again when that call comes, so I keep it ajar and I pray to continually be strengthened for the job he puts before me.


"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all who mourn."

From Isaiah 61

Breathing it in

It's busy and we keep moving

- busting here and there.

Rushing and bowling over every "good intention" that we have.

Sometimes we have to just stop.

Breathe.

I heard a simple phrase last year that comes back to me over and over again, especially when I am stressed: 

"Breathe in grace, breathe out grace."

So I stop, close my eyes, click my mind off… and I try it.

On the inhale  -

I imagine God himself smiling. And pouring this great big bucketful of grace into me; this earthen vessel so desperate to receive it. Things are pouring out of that bucket like

"I'm singing over you."

"I am equipping you, and have already equipped you."

"I love you, yes despite that. And that. And that too."

- And -

"Oh, do I have plans for you!"

"I had great things in mind for you before you were even born!"

"You don't have to do any of it on your own!"

"I will never leave you, not for a second."


So, in this count of three, I am breathing all of that it.


And it calms me.

Wow, I'm calm finally. And that feels good.


On the exhale, I turn.

Away from me.

Away from pity.

Away from frustration.

Because suddenly my eyes are open to things that previously were hidden in the busting and rushing and bowling.

I see needs, and they aren't my own.

I see faces. No, not just faces - I see eyes. 

Eyes that are tired or searching. Eyes brimming with unbidden tears. Just hanging on. Some eyes twinkling with hope.


And I think about people who have this gift. The gift of easily breathing in and out with grace in each second. It's not an effort, it's who they are.

We are all human and we all hit walls. I know that. But what a sweet thing to be able to see the people who radiate the grace, because they live it.


I could list so many right here. Those who have chosen time and again to walk in the Spirit, even when it made zero sense to their human minds. They have done it so much that with practice, it becomes


like breathing.

Is it tough? Oh yes. There are tears and exhaustion, and All of The Stuff.

But an underlying knowing that this is the life. The life you are called to is the best life there is.



For example, does it make sense to open your home, {your oasis, your private moments, your place to "get away from it all"} to children who will intrude upon all of that? Why would you put out fires you didn't start?

Well, if God asks you to do it, you do it. 

I went almost a year without seeing my sister, who is one of my best friends. Life was so busy, and due to distance, we just could not connect any closer than our phones {what would we do without texting and quick little phone calls, on the go?!}.

Over Thanksgiving vacation I got to do life with her for a few days.

My sister with her three energetic boys,

her 4 and 5 yr old foster boys,

and her brand new foster bebe boy.

Some one else's "fire".

{hello cute little fire, who stole my heart}

Why would anyone do the hard work? Who has the energy for that?



I guess you just have to breathe in grace so you can breathe it out.



Just thinking about them slows me down.


Inhale,

exhale,

open your eyes.

Random, tired thoughts

I need to be heading to bed, because my new fall-time schedule has my days beginning while it is still dark, in the early am.

Writing will clear my mind though, and I do want to head for my rest tonight with a clear mind. It helps. :)



Tonight was my last night at the Center for Women, until January. After 6 years of constancy, this was one of the things that God asked me to step back from, for a time. I feel peace, relief, and sadness. It's only three months, but still. It's my family. We are tight. We are sisters. We will do ministry together again. My Mondays in 2013 will not be the same.

My heart is full. These days I am listening to, and most importantly hearing, God in ways that I fear I have been too distracted for of late. Much of what I am hearing is surprising. All of it is good. I am soaking it up like a sponge.

 Learning,
             growing,
                          stretching.

And guess what?
Stopping,
          pausing,
                         resting, and
                                           breathing.

Good. So good. 

On Wednesdays I am now Mrs. McCallum. Who knew I would love to teach so much?! I am teaching a digital photography class to middle and high schoolers at a local home school co-op. My students are eager to learn, and seeing the light turn on in their minds when we do hands on photography learning is priceless! 

My photography business is growing. Some of what is surprising me about letting go of my agenda and schedule, and asking God to have complete control of it, is a big ol' green light on pursuing the business  wholeheartedly. I guess I thought He would tell me to step back from the business and dive into all things ministry. Oh how small I make God, and oh how I put "ministry" into an unfair and restricted box. I am ashamed of that.  I have met countless people, and been to all kinds of places I never would have been to had I not ventured unto the world of business ownership. I am humbly grateful for the ways in which He is teaching me that my business, my gifts, talents, my callings {my life} THEY ARE MY MINISTRY. See the common thread between the Janitor/shepherd and the photographer/shepherd? :) 

Speaking of him - I love him. I know you know that, but I have to say it again. I was talking to my friend tonight, and just recapping what the last 13 years have been like for us. 

Year 2 of marriage was hard. We had premature twins at 25 weeks gestation, and we buried one. Hard.  It was this crash course in grieving while trying to communicate well, while still learning one another.

Year 7 was hard. For no one specific reason, and for a hundred reasons. 

Year ten had a few bumps. 

We will always face bumps in the road, I know that. But something happened this year. We began to get really honest. Gut wrenching honesty. It has laid our hearts bare, hurt like nothing else, and glued us tighter. I don't know how else to explain it. 

He doesn't complete me and he isn't my everything. He draws me closer to my Creator, who is. I love him more for that than anything else he could do for me. 

I started running last week. I tried it 5 years ago, at a time in my life when starting to run was probably one of the most impractical things I could've done. I deemed it "not for me", felt like a big wus, and turned my back on it. Recently I have had this feeling that I really needed to try again. I actually have some time to do it, now that Mali is in preschool 3 days a week, in the am. I downloaded the couch to 5k app, and I am going to give it a fair try this time around. I still feel like a big wus - and oh-so-NOT-athletic, but I have only completed day 2. I am going to stick with it through at least the entire 9 week training process. -Not really sure how I'll feel about it when it begins to get really cold and the snow flies, but I am committed to trying my hardest to see this through. 

Today I texted my friend, who is training for her second marathon, that I now have a "running" play list and arm band for my Ipod, so I'm a runner, right?!. She informed me that I run, therefore I am a runner. So good to have truth speaking people in my life. ;)

The thing with me is that, for realz, I am the least athletic person you will ever meet. I played no sports when I was growing up, and don't have an over abundance of physical strength. In the c25k training stage I am in now, I am walking more than running - and still feeling challenged.

Please tell me that  my lungs will not burn forever. 

Goodnight for now friends. This getting up early and running thing is tiring this girl out. :) Plus, you know there's the four boys and… 

All of The Stuff. :) 

(PS - doesn't it seem like my iMac should recognize the word "iPod" and not tell me it is misspelled? It's like a father turning his back on his own son or something. Isn't it? Ok. bed. yes, I'm going.)

The Janitor-Shepherd

My husband is a janitor. Most of you know that. 

It's an incredible blessing for our family that Dave has a full time job, and our bills are always paid. I have never looked down on what he does for a living, and I see that what he does is so.much.more than cleaning.

I see it. But I suppose I would be naive if I didn't see how some may view such a position. For the most part, it really doesn't matter "what other people think". But then there's this: The Reactive Protective Wife Reflex. And even though the lines are invisible  - I have seen certain lines drawn based upon status and perhaps one could say "collar color".

Oh his heart. I realize I get to see the depths of his heart in a way that most never will. I am privileged like that. But there are times I just want the world to see this beautiful person who has gifts untapped.

His desire is ministry. Through some of his recent college classes alot of his gifting was identified as "shepherding". He shines when he is pouring into the lives of people. He waits for the possibility to do this full time, but each morning he wakes, he folds his hands and tips his head to The One who has made it clear that - for now- his mission field is a certain university, where he has been for 8 + years. God said "stay", so he stays. Every day, with a faithfulness that enlightens me to things eternal. {thank you}

Enough doors have closed, for the time being, that we have a deep peace about the word "stay". For today. This is what we are called to today. Ministry abounds, and again, we are thankful.

This juggling and working of the full time job, ministry, life, and Everything - it is challenging. But when it is what God leads you to, you do it and you know it's possible. Not just possible, but good. It's good.

I won't lie - real tears flooded my eyes when they saw these words penned to my shepherd hearted husband a few weeks ago.

 For my desire that his heart be seen was fulfilled by at least this one professor. He wrote a book, and signed the first copy to Dave. And he gets it. 

{Dave the janitor, custodian of God's Word}

Yes. This is where it's at. We stay and we plug in. Until he tells us something else, we make the most of every opportunity where we are at.

Some 'splainin

You know that feeling of going through motions and doing, doing, doing?

And then you start to feel weird and realize you are kind of on auto pilot and you don't really "feel" a whole lot? But you keep doing, and you are efficient, somewhat organized, and getting things done?

 But still, just doing. Doing, doing, doing. It can be like a sickness sometimes.  Know that feeling? Maybe you do and maybe you do not.      

Maybe you have had to diagnose yourself with being exhausted, overbooked, and doing too much _ some of it for all the wrong reasons.

Maybe you haven't 

Last year I was doing alot. And I did most of it fairly well. So many things we accepted onto our plates. It looked kind of impossible and many people gave me cautionary advice.
"Watch it,
be careful,
these are all good things,
but don't
                do
                         too
                                      much…."

And I honestly told them that everything I was involved in had been prayed over and I had much peace about. It was pretty supernatural really.

Inspired.

Last year was.

I did it, I was supposed to do it, and I did it with energy and passion.

This year is not last year. 


Bam!  …and ouch.


I know. You were right. Hello friends. 

The kind of energy and passion with which I carried out what I was called to do last year was not the kind that could be sustained long term.

Apparently. 

My pride is taking a pretty enormous beating. But this is good. I know it is; The Admitting that I am very, very human.

I don't know. I guess I thought The Doing, and The Energy, and The Efficiency was my new way of life.
Hmmmph. 

I added a couple of very small things to my life this fall. I honestly did not think adding a couple of things would change anything. I thought that adding things and being able to do them well, in addition to All The Other Stuff was like a new Spiritual gift or something.

I know.

I know. 

I'm loopier than a box of fruit loops.

So, this is me in process of paring back. It's both refreshing and painful. It's a relief and kind of like cutting off an arm. So, yeah - that makes a ton of sense. 

I'm praying over my schedule, my commitments, my ministries, my passions, and really my whole life.

I've been asking God what needs to go, and the places he is pointing to are actually really surprising to me. I'm listening though. I'm really listening to Him. Previous to this revelation of Too Much I'm afraid I wasn't listening very closely, or at least I wasn't heeding what my heart knew He was saying.

For instance, last year Dave and I heard very clearly that it was our "year of yes". We dove in. He gave green lights all over the place. As the year wound down we saw some orange lights, and started to evaluate where we were at. After some prayer we felt as though God was giving us a new word.  No longer "yes", but "focus". The year of yes changed to our "year of focus". This would be the year we would find our handful of places to plug into ministry and focus on them.

Somehow my crazy mind started bending that concept and made it the yesfocus year.  Because, really, if I had done it for a year, surely it was just the way I was going to be able to function forever, so YES! I'll focus
             on
                      e v e r y t h i n g !!! Yes!

Only that crashed and burned last night on our front sidewalk in broken sobs telling Dave that I can't do it anymore.

Maybe some of it is hormones, maybe some of it is the fact that I'm getting over 3 weeks of bronchitis that really weakened me. Maybe it's the new fall time schedule and changes.

But mostly, just this…

Hi, my name is Wendi, and I can't do it all.

{July} 10 on 10

"This is what 10 on 10 is about: Take a photo every hour for ten consecutive hours on the tenth of each month. Document a day of your life and find beauty among the ordinary moments. Then share your beauty with us!"

 How else would you start your morning? Cereal and blocks are the best way. ;)

The cereal and blocks actually distracted the little people enough for me to take a shower in peace. All done and ready for another busy day. I got this unique feather hair do-dad at a Dollar General store. So pleased about this find! I love uniqueness.

Play date at our friends' house.

A stop off at the library for a puppet show, book sale, and some computer time.

Daddy's home! And then he's off with K to for a glasses repair, and to order new ones. 

Lego time with Jay and Noe. This is my dude. He's a bad guy, and I built a mean rebel base for him to spy on the good guys from. He shoots venom. Be jealous.

A little bit of rest, and slight quiet. Kind of. Digging into this book for the fall study I will be leading at church.

This is what worship team practice looked like tonight. :) 

Hello little friend. I am going to take you home and we will be together for a long time.

My big boy Jay, doing some reading before sleep.