"Daughter, By Your Faith, You Are Healed"

In six weeks, my darling Norah will be three. She is at a frustratingly tumultuous age where she is either in soul ripping tears over minute inconveniences in the world (eg, her beans and rice having too many beans) or gut bursting laughter over improbable entertainment (eg, identifying Phoebe's poop as whole raisins.)But in that tiny jungle of a soul, a seed is sprouting, trying to take root. When she looks to me while reading about Naaman and says "Jesus will heal my skin, too, mama.", When her eyes light up as Lily explains the wonders of New Jerusalem like only a big sister can, When her skin, for no reason at all, has betrayed her again and bleeds and she refuses her bath, and oils, and salves, and she just wants to be held and prayed for, The seedling of her faith is growing.

With her birthday coming up, it's hard for me not to hear the echoes of all of the doctors that said "She'll grow out of it" bouncing around in my head. "By a year," they said. "By 18 months," they said. "Sometime after about two it should..." they said.

Norah's condition, whatever it may be, points me to Jesus constantly. She is a blessing into my life like nothing else just for this. The reliable reminder that repeat exposure to things that trigger a negative reaction in our hearts will lead to sickness throughout our bodies. The confirmation that our flesh craves to be more than just exfoliated, but MADE NEW to be wholly in Christ.

And tonight, I wonder about the woman in Luke who bled for twelve years. Was she taken from doctor to doctor, doing everything that she knew was right? Did her mama read Isaiah to her, revealing the foretelling of The Great Healer? (Watching your daughter suffer incurably could not have been easier two thousand years ago!) Did she grow tired of all the accommodations that had to be made for her if and when she left the house?

But Hallelujah!! that the seedling of Faith that resided in her drove her out into a crowd where she ought not be, that she reached out and touched the Man that would bleed immeasurably for her to end her bleeding! What a God. He took on her pain, her affliction, her rejection, her "condition" And by her faith, she was healed.

Luke 8:43-48

New International Version (NIV)

43 And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years,[a] but no one could heal her. 44 She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.

45 “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”

46 But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”

47 Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. 48 Then he said to her,“Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

Daughter, whatever your "incurable" affliction may be, whatever isolates you, pains you, drains you of your hypothetical or actual blood, reach out to Jesus. Not only am I comforted that He has taken on Norah's pain, but mine. Because we can not go unnoticed. He knows my depression, He knows your scar of abuse, your all consuming addiction. And He is good, making Himself easily accessible to us, that all we need do is have Faith and grab on.

Ask Me

This morning I asked my facebook fans to ask me anything, and got some great questions!Here are a few of my favorites:

"I'd love to know who you look toward for fashion inspiration. I love your style!" Well, thank you, ma'am! I, like lots of women, have hips and thighs and lots of boobs, but feel like the majority of "curvy girl" inspiration out there is too risque for my taste. Marilyn and I may be shaped similarly, but I'm an Audrey kinda gal (in the UN ambassador kinda way, not so much the Breakfast at Tiffany's kinda way ;]) I tend to look to women with simple, modest style like the doll, Kendi from Kendi Everyday. She gets me with the stripes, polka dots, florals and button up shirts. That's my jam. You can follow my style board on Pinterest, to take a peek into my virtual closet ;]

"What was your gateway into the type of photography that you create? [...] I wanna know what started your passion." I love this story. I had been portfolio building for about a year, deciding what I was going to specialize in. I didn't want to take the time to learn photography, become business savvy, and spend time away from my family if I wasn't going to offer up something special to the industry. A very dear friend of mine had an adorable little girl 6 weeks older than my second daughter, and another one of her best friends had a baby who was a newborn. I envisioned them sitting back to back in a field nursing their babies and called up my friend to discuss my vision for her session and the future of my business. I had taken some nursing images at a newborn shoot shortly before and I knew right then that I loved it. I began to google "breastfeeding photography" I found weird anatomical images, LLL pamphlets, and several personal projects (At Mother's Breast was particularly inspiring,) but no one was serving this demographic of women photographically. So, as Emerson said "Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."

And I did. I've now photographed hundreds of mothers nursing their babies and feel like I have contributed something significant to the photography world. No, I am not by any means the first person to photograph a baby breastfeeding, but I may be the first to make a successful business out of doing so!

Lastly for tonight-

"[F]irst of all, your work is AH-MAZING! that being said, did you have a periods of time where you thought you "got it", but now, looking back at old work feel like... ooohhh forehead slap! Also, what was the main thing that helped you cross the threshold of "I like taking pictures" to "I am a seasoned pro photographer"?" GREAT questions. You see this photo up here ^ well that was taken in 2011, about a year after I got my first DSLR (a Canon 20D yikes) I had just started shooting in Manual Mode, which obviously meant I was a professional. *Insert Forehead Slap Here* I have edited this image 9284570984 times. Not much can save it. or make it look like anything in my current portfolio. Keri, (the blonde) was a seasoned, highly sought after birth photographer and I thought I was BIG STUFF for taking her portrait. Lawdy. I feel that I, like the majority of digital pop-up shop, shoot and burn photographers, take claim to "I am a seasoned pro photographer" much sooner than we should have ever dared. I don't think it was until 2012 (two years after I began teaching myself, a year after I started taking people's money) that I really would have considered myself a professional photographer, and, if we're being honest, not until this past year (2013)  that I would consider myself a seasoned pro. I offer my clients tangible products, not just 33348957 images on a CD that are full of half decent pictures that will sit in a drawer until my client moves. I charge for my time and talent. With three little girls that I homeschool, my time is invaluable and I've taught myself everything I know to bring my clients gorgeous images in a professional manner. This is not just a hobby. Most importantly, I am continuously growing and learning. There is a school of thought that says "If you have been doing something for X number of years, that is what qualifies you" and it just isn't true. My career isn't very long, but my growth is abundantly obvious. A photographer's portfolio should be outdoing itself on the regular, never stagnating. I would say that knowing exactly what I can capture (an event, a milestone, the subject) and exactly how to make the picture in my head come to life through my lens and on my computer screen makes me a seasoned pro.

Well that was fun! Leave some questions in the comments below and we'll do this again real soon!

Behold, All Things Have Become New

It's that time of year again.Fitspiration. Clean eating. Book lists. You know the drill. One flip of the calender page and everyone has a renewed look of the world.

The hours stretched long on December 31st. "What should I write about this year? Am I a 'Resolutions' type gal? Am I an 'Anti-Resolutions' type gal? Am I an 'OHEMGEE guys, it's just resolutions, let's have some fun, stop being so rude' type gal?" I have yet to answer any of these life altering questions.

I knew that last year held overwhelming joy and deep heartache for myself and many. I know that this year friends will lose their parent, wake another day with a barren womb, lose a job. Others will welcome babies, get that big promotion, celebrate another year of wedded bliss with their spouse. The possibilities are endless and all the while, the days are numbered.

The thing about self improvement is that I often try to outdo the great work that my creator is doing with me. He is perfecting me. In ways I don't understand. In ways a 21 day program, 52 week project, or 24 hour plan cannot. This year, 2014, is another year closer to paradise. One yet unseen that I want no part of while on this Earth. But what we do decide to do until then, it needs to be revisited often, at least yearly if not daily.

Dec 31st kept stretching on. I made the most delicious, simple chicken broth for chicken and dumplings. "Ah, yes, this! I will talk about simplification. About my new love that I had beaten into me for a Minimalist existence. How getting rid of half of what we owned this year leads to clarity and tastiness. Wait. No. That's not it." The chicken and "bumplins" (as Norah called them) were delicious. But not resolution inspiring.

Well past midnight, as I lay listening to fireworks in the distance, and the cheers of jubilee through the interwebz, I thought about "New." I have started many years by wanting a new body. New hair. New clothes. A new babe. But I've never started a year wanting to BE MADE NEW like I do right now. A new vigor for His Word An ignited fire for my husband. A refreshed patience for my children. A fortified grace for the world.

I want to taste the salt in my lungs as many times as I can, make beautiful things with these slender hands God's grown me into, push my body to work, love and rest like it never has. I want to weep with complete confidence that His Blood is more than any tragedy that lay ahead. I want to sing and dance so wildly that laughter overtakes any music.

I want Him to make me new.

Happy New Year.

2 Corinthians 5:17

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things

have passed away; behold, all things have become new.