Jitters

We have a new kitten in our home. I called my mom a few weeks ago to tell her "we have a new addition to our family!" to which she slowly inhaled and said "...okay* waiting for the other shoe to drop (I don't blame her, I have a sorted history of pranking her horribly!) as I told her it was a cat. She would have been thrilled had I told her we were adopting, I was having twins, or we got a snake, she just had no idea what to expect.  

That little kitten is currently curled up on my lap in our bed. She was taken from her mama before she was weaned, then abandoned, so all of our attachment parenting over the past 6 years is really paying off ;) I'm laying here, hardly able to keep my eyes open, but completely incapable of falling asleep. Today I did all of the stupid hard stuff that us artsy fartsy people tend to neglect- the money stuff. I paid my taxes and then planned out all of my finances for 2015. Let's talk about how drained I am.

And I want to just put this out there - 2015 is sorta kinda MAJORLY freaking me out.

What if I don't get booked?

What if I get really sick?

What if I tear apart my family?

What if I'm being too big for my britches?!

You see, two years ago I started to put together an organization for breastfeeding photographers. It was too early, first of all, I'll go ahead and own that right now. But here's what also happened. I got laughed at for some typos, I was scoffed at by my peers because I set my standards unprecedentedly high, and no one took me seriously. It took me a year to burry that project and every now and then I still have to lick an old wound.

But you know, I'm prideful. And maybe I need to be knocked on my butt. Once, twice... Okay, lots.

With that kitty purring, thunder rolling softly, and the ac whirring (sup, Texas winter?) I feel that deep inhale being sucked in. "You've got big plans for 205!" "...okaaaaaay" what does that mean exactly, ya know?!

I am lucky enough to have my heart sewn together with a man's who loves me fiercely. I am always his number two (behind our Lord) and he is mine. Sewing two hearts together is messy business, especially with two as meaty as ours. There is the painful needle pricks of each pass of the needle and the thread often narrowly avoids life giving veins. But somehow we don't bleed out. We survive the process. And then, after all of that, once scar tissue has started to form and the wounds heal, three little chunks were ripped right out. Our little girls are painfully cherished. They are the answer to many of my "Why's" and I gift that I am unsure I have properly received.

With all of that in mind - I need to not be needed for a minute.

The Lord's Grace is enough for me to raise them well, and there is no buts about that. Buuuuut. Being an introverted 25 year old I find myself needing more and more space. I don't just need a minute. I need a chance to miss them. That's horrible to say isn't it? I know there are parents who have lost their baby thinking "I would never!" And to you, I am sorry for my selfish ignorance.

In 2014 I spent more time administrating than shooting and editing. It was hard work that paid off, but as we round off this 2014th year of our Lord... I am left with the feeling that I didn't shoot enough. I didn't put the glass up to my face and catch the light enough. I didn't risk my crazy toddler possibly wrecking my camera enough. I didn't convince you that you need to stop paying for $100 "meh" pictures every few months and instead save up for a session that you will truly love by getting in front of the camera, MY camera - enough. I didn't step out of my comfort zone enough. I didn't step into your comfort zone enough.

So somehow, I have to strike that balance. Reply to my needy needers and photograph 2015 and it's moments in motherhood with no regrets.

Here's to holding our breath for a few more days as we wait and see what 2015 has in store for us!

Find me on Instagram (@mae_burke) for momore of my non camera toting ways ;)

"AND BLESSED IS THE ONE WHO IS NOT OFFENDED BY ME."

Last night my middle daughter, Norah, had another severe allergic reaction.This isn't something new for her, and I doubt it will be the last time we go through this due to her mast cell condition.

After dinner we noticed her face had hives so we gave her Benadryl. As I put her to bed, she was unable to breath without coughing so we moved her downstairs to keep an eye on her. As the hour passed, her lips began to turn purple and swell, more hives showed up, and then her ears started to swell. Our epi pens have just become unusable and we were playing the "when to call the ambulance game" (parents with allergies probably know this game all too well) since the nearest hospital is an hour away.

I asked our good friends to pray for her as Eamon was on the phone with 911, and Norah's eyes started rolling in the back of her head. I sat her up, prayed, and remembered what I've been studying in my bible this week.

"AND BLESSED IS THE ONE WHO IS NOT OFFENDED BY ME." Matthew 11:6

Jesus had a cousin who went before him, preaching of His coming, John (John the Baptist). At this time, John was imprisoned because of his prophesying to the people in the dessert who came to see him. He was locked away doing what was good, for the advancement of the kingdom. He had sent out some of his friends to go to Jesus and see if it was really Him. He told them

"Go back and report to John what you hear and see:  The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."

You see, Jesus was quoting scripture from Isaiah, confirming that He was the Son of God, but I think He ended this report of miracles with the phrase "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me." because He knows our hearts.

The Jesus I know is about healing, about freedom, about life, and yet, here is someone who is dearly beloved to him, beaten, imprisoned, and ultimately beheaded for his service to The King. He knew John's heart was tender. He knew how fickle the human soul can be, to take offense to it's creator, to lose faith.

Having a child who is "sick" gives me plenty of opportunity to be offended with my God. To say "Why us? Why her? Is *THIS* fearfully and wonderfully made?!" Yet I have come to trust in the power of my God. I have tossed aside the lie that "God won't bring you to anything you can't handle" because it is a misquote of 1 Cor 4:13

"No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, that you may be able to endure it"

And last I checked, sickness isn't a temptation. Our God is going to protect us from personal sin. I know that, as Isaiah 45:5-7 says "“I am the Lord, and there is no other; Besides Me there is no God. I will gird you, though you have not known Me;  That men may know from the rising to the setting of the sun That there is no one besides Me. I am the Lord, and there is no other,  The One forming light and creating darkness, Causing well-being and creating calamity; I am the Lord who does all these." And I know He is good. And as Beth Moore said "He cannot do good for himself and harm to His children."

We hear the sirens coming down the highway and Norah tells me "I love you, mommy. I so sowwy I having a 'action'." And I want to cry, but I assure her it wasn't her fault. The paramedics walk in, and she doesn't make one squawk. Not one cough, not one grunt. Just talking like "Oh hey guys, what's up?" The swelling in her lips subsides, her hives start to lose their heat and size. Over the next few minutes the EMTs note how much better she's doing. But it's not like we called too soon, this reaction had been going on for about an hour and a half with no signs of getting better. And my God showed up. There He was, so sweet to us.

Last night in between creeping back into her room to make sure she was still breathing, I had the thoughts "What if next time the reaction is too fast? What if she ignores the signs as an adult? What if, what if, what if..." And then I thought about John the Baptist. This eternal life that he spoke of, that he was sure of. The freedom, the healing, the joy, HE RECEIVED IT ALL when he met his Father in heaven. See, The One Who Made You knows that His ways are hard. As unbelievers, it keeps us at a distance from him. As believers, I think we become even more offended when God doesn't "behave" like we think He should. It is my job to protect, and love, and teach Norah for as long as I have her, but if that day comes, and I lose my baby, though she has not accepted Christ as her personal Lord and Savior, I know she will run to Him on that shore, like all of the little children of Israel, and hug Him as He welcomes her home. And I will not be offended by Him.

Dear Daughters: As Fall Creeps In

Dear Daughters, Summer has officially retreated, so says the calendar, but the days here in Rockport are still hot. The mosquitos are still swarming, the sun still tucks away at 8, not much has really changed. We've been kissed with golden tans, left sand in every crack and crevice of the house, and starred at the tv for way too many hours.

But every few nights, there is a cool(ish) breeze that lifts the sweaty hairs off of the back of our necks on our evening walk and we remember, Autumn will be here soon. She will bring open windows, community events, and a change of pace (hopefully a relaxed rhythm to these homeschooling days) We have our very first family (of five) vacation planned to wrap up the season in December, but until then, I am hopeful for a season of diligence. Of pressing deep into our family and neighborhood. Welcoming whatever the wind blows in.

My Lily, I swear that your legs grew every day of this summer. I can hardly see where your chunky baby thighs used to be. You have started Kindergarten (though you tell everyone "Oh, I don't have a grade, I'm HOMEschooled.") So far you really love our math lessons and you light up when given the chance to show Norah how to do something. You say "I'm sorry" more than any little human I've ever met and it makes me wonder if have shown you what Grace really looks like. Or maybe the guilt you are feeling, the inadequacy you burden will lead you to our Savior. I don't know, but know that I hear you, baby.

Norah Jean, You little stinker. Your imagination has grown leaps and bounds this past season (which only thrills your older sister) You have started to figure out the world, and hearing what it feels like, sounds like, looks like through your lens is fascinating. You are loyal and intense and ever more opinionated. I have a feeling Jesus is going to use you in a might way. You have started Pre-K and love your little Rod & Staff books. We have finally gotten over the "This is not white, it's NO COLOR, mama" argument (thank you 6 pound, 12 ounce baby Jesus) and I love the look on your face when you've completed something you've put a lot of your little attention into.

Phoebe, My baby, my chubs, my Pheebs. Where is my tiny baby girl? I can hardly find her with this sassy toddler standing in the way. I can honestly say that I've done a disservice to your big sisters by taking for granted their littleness. Every day I have with you as a baby is a joy. An exhausting, messy joy. You are a mischievous little toddler. Your curiosity and extrovertedness (definitely a word)  remind me of Lily, but the enthusiasm in which you play and sneak and cuddle is all your own. You promised me through little milk stanky gummies that you would stay my baby forever. What a dirty trick ;] I think you will miss the beach most of all. You will go in up to your chin before I can grab you. The water excites you, and maybe it's because that's the way you came into the world? But even in our days home you find your sandcastle molds to play with.

Burke Lady Loves, We've had an amazing summer. It isn't for certain where we will spend the next summer, or the one after that, or after that, but I hope you can remember the time that we had here.

Love, Mama