Beautiful

{ You're beautiful.  You are made for so much more than all of this.

You're beautiful.  You are treasured, you are sacred, you are His. }

Isn't it wonderful when you hear a song that you feel must be meant just for your heart?  I love when that happens.

I heard this song by MercyMe in the car yesterday.  I'd heard it before, but never really listened to it.  This time, it reminded me of the toughest months of my life, and then it made me smile at the thought of my bright future ahead (I'm claiming it now).  I thought of my girls.  Oh the drama that they will face at some point in their lives.  I want to sing it to my girls day and night, so that they know how loved and BEAUTIFUL they are, no matter what they are going through at school, which friends like or dislike them in a given week, or the mistakes they have made.  I want to hold Parker's face in my hands and tell him that he is sacred and treasured, no matter what grade he made in science class, and even when he misbehaves.  He is beautiful.

And of course, being the reader that I am, I went home and looked up this song.  I discovered that the songwriter had his own daughters in mind when he wrote it, even though its message applies to anyone of any age.

So maybe it's what you need to read today too.  You're welcome to print the image above if you need the reminder.  Just double-click above and save it to your desktop.  I hope you print it and hang it at eye level, say it out loud to yourself, and your children, every single day.

Because you ARE beautiful.

xo,

Stacey

Hello, brand new year.

Oh, 2013. How delighted I am to have a fresh start in you. A clean slate.

That push towards healing, newness, and so much peace.

A gentle nudge in the right direction, and a big step forward.

Growth.

I have grand plans for this year.  New adventures and directions to pursue, new strategies to try, and older ideas to finally bring forth.

So many of my intentions and projects simmered on the back burner last year, unfinished like everything else.  Looking back, that's exactly where those things belonged, for a time.  Until I was ready.  I believe that even though we don't always follow God's perfect plans for us, he can certainly dust us off when we ask Him to.  Miraculously, He can still make something amazing of our life, no matter how badly we've messed it up. He is the Potter, we are the clay.  And I'm ready for whatever He wants to make of me.

This feels like MY YEAR.  I am thrilled to be alive, and so happy to be able to share my heart with you here.

I hope you'll stick around.

What being with Lila looks like

Oh, my Lila. I love so many things about this daughter of mine.  I've posted a lot of her pictures and stories lately on Facebook and Instagram, so I thought I'd devote the first 2013 edition of "What ______ Looks Like" to my sweet middle one.  She blesses my heart every day, and it is a joy to share her with you today, with a combination of iPhone photos and "big camera" photos as well.  I hope you enjoy. ////

What Being With Lila Looks Like

She is my free-spirit. My messy artist, my lover of crafting and painting and sticking and taping and drawing and sketching and writing.  She is forever leaving us notes, writing on calendars, art paper, envelopes, and her favorite canvas: HERSELF.  Marker-tattoos are her specialty.

She is an enthusiastic early reader (she's only four), and she always begs for "just one more story" at bedtime.  It's hard to tell her no.

My helper, my little mama. She always knows where I've absentmindedly sat something down.  She is delightfully observant.  She can always tell me what Charlotte needs when she cries, which comes in super handy in the car!  I find Lila's babydolls covered up with blankets all over the house.  She often shushes me because "Bitty Baby is asleep."  She will make an excellent mama someday.

Lila is our tomboy-princess. All of her "twuhly skiwts" (twirly skirts) have tiny holes in the hems, because she climbs trees (with her brother) while wearing them. Fancy clothes cannot hold her back.

She is a mirror, reflecting my mannerisms and habits back to me. It's not always sweet, which lets me keep a check on my own heart. For instance, when we're stuck in traffic, her sweet voice suddenly shocks you with, "GO, people. We don't have all day." I raise my guilty hand. Pretty embarrassed about it, too.

Her sweet lisp is endearing to me, and I will certainly mourn when she outgrows it. "We don't go to da gas station wif da gween sun because dey made our ocean diwty." (Referring to the historic Gulf oil spill and our resulting boycott of that particular gas station with the green sunburst logo.)

She's delightfully random. She pipes up with whatever is on her mind at any given moment: "I like butterflies!"

She has her own beautiful way of saying ordinary words. Taking off her shoes post-beach and shaking them out, she exclaims: "My shoes have sandy in dem." When the moonroof is open, and our car's interior is too bright for her liking, she begs... "Close it! It's too shiny!" This sweet girl has no idea that she is our sunshine.

She is funny without ever trying to be. When Skyping with my sister once, our computer screen froze and we complained about it. Always the literal one, Lila scrambled up and offered, "I'll go turn off the fan."  Darling girl thought we were really "freezing".

She's forever carrying food around the house.  One evening several months ago, as I nursed Charlotte in the bedroom chair, Lila brought an entire plate of food into the bedroom.  I asked her to please take her food to the table. Of course, I meant the kitchen table, but she promptly sat her plate on the bedroom nightstand. (I did say a table, after all.) I don't think the kitchen table ever occurred to her; she just looked around the room for the nearest table, so that she could still be with us.  How could I refuse her?  Again, she's so literal that it makes me smile.

Lila Kate. Lilabean. Lilabug. Lila Cakes. Li. Lila Jane. Ya-ya (Charlotte's baby-talk name for her).

I asked her once, "Lila, what in the world would I do without you?" She smiled and quickly offered, "You'd cry... and cry and cry and cry."

And I would.

////

I'm honored to link up to Shannon Sewell this month.  I had the pleasure of interviewing her in 2011 for The Creative Mama's Creative Photography Series.  She is delightful, and I can't wait to see the gorgeous art she shares with us today.

Thankful for these messes.

Chris hasn't taken a day off in over three weeks, and I'm practically glued to my desk these days.  Add in soccer practices, weekend games, homework and school projects, Christmas shopping and wrapping and decorating that has to be done at some point.  This combination equals one VERY messy house!  We've got more clothes in dirty hampers than in our closets, and if it weren't for takeout and delivery, we wouldn't have had dinner at our own table in two weeks. All day long, I grumble over fresh messes that are being made in the house.  Charlotte pulls paper out of the printer and un-decorates our Christmas tree at every opportunity. Lila leaves her crayons and artwork scattered all over the living room. I find Parker's dirty socks and shoes all over the house, and even the backyard.  They get things out and don't bother to put them back... they argue and cry over paper cuts and smashed fingertips... they tattle on each other and refuse to share.

I'll bet your children often act the same as mine, right?

But...

My children, and yours, are at home.  They are warm and safe and when it comes to what is really important... they are happy.  They are in our arms, and in our messy homes, and they are healthy.  They are alive.  Parker's blond head bobbed as he stepped off the bus yesterday.  Safe and sound.  Lila ran to me when I picked her up early from preschool yesterday, and Charlotte's little face lit up as she toddled into my arms.

God bless and comfort those families who would give anything to clean up after their children today.  Those parents who desperately want to kiss tiny boo-boos and wipe away tears and ask their children to please speak nicely to one another and pick up after themselves.  Parents who would give their own last breath to be able to tuck in their kids one more night.  To give one more kiss, one more hug, read one more story, and get "just one more" drink of water.  Because of the acts of a cruel and selfish soul, there are many families today who do not have what you or I have. Their children won't be running downstairs in delight on Christmas morning this year, or next year, or the year after that.  My heart deeply aches for those mamas and daddies.

So today, I want to say Thank You, God, for these messes, and for the dear children who have made them.  Thank You for the beautiful evidence of having children in our homes.  Thank You for their paper cuts and their boo-boos and their tears that You allow us to kiss away.  May we never, ever take those blessings for granted, not for a single moment.  Please hold us up when we do not understand the things that are allowed to happen here on Earth.  Please comfort and give peace to the families who are hurting today. When those mommies and daddies experience unimaginable grief, longing and heartache for their babies, please allow them to know that their sweet children are spending Christmas sitting on Your lap in Heaven, surrounded by Your angels, and Your unending Light.

Hug your children today, I beg of you. Because you can.  We never know if we will have tomorrow.

The Almost-kiss in the Almost-dark

I'm preparing this sweet family's gallery to go up, but I have to stop and share one of my favorites with you.

We were losing daylight quickly, and maybe that's what grabs me the most about this image... that tender almost-kiss in the almost-dark. Makes me swoon every time.

-Stacey

They Had It All.

The prettiest smiles.

The bluest eyes.

The most fun.

The best giggles.

The sweetest love.

Thank you, Schemery family, for being in front of my lens while you were in town, and for sharing your evening with me.

xo,

-Stacey

Praying for Patience

I should have known better than to pray for patience, and I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

But in a moment of culminated frustration yesterday evening in the car, I fervently prayed (rather, shouted so that my children could hear), "Please, Lord! Give me patience with these children!!"

And behold, the Lord giveth.

This morning was our first test.  Every one of my lovelies were late to school/preschool/daycare.  Charlotte, because she is a toddler and isn't responsible for herself yet, was the only one not at fault. Including me. No one could find the socks that we just folded and put away on Sunday.  Fibs were told concerning if, in fact, little teeth had or had not been brushed. We caught every red light from Clearwater to Largo to Safety Harbor to Dunedin and back to Clearwater again.  We even sat at a stoplight for ten minutes, unable to turn left across three lanes of traffic, because the light was broken.  That is, until a police officer came to the rescue and fixed the problem.  Ten minutes, folks.  During the morning commute, that roughly equals an hour.  

I forgot my phone at home and had to keep a tally of messages and notes in my head, as opposed to dictating them for quick reminders later.  Photoshop is acting up, and my Wacom pen suddenly has a mind of its own.

All this to say, I have had more opportunities to practice patience this morning than I've had all week long.  I will choose to be thankful for these opportunities, and I will take my lumps and lessons as humbly and gratefully as possible.

But seriously, take my advice.  DON'T EVER, EVER, PRAY FOR PATIENCE.  Because God has a fine sense of humor.

Have a wonderful day!!  :)

-Stacey

A Surprise Thanksgiving Trip

Last Sunday morning, the kids and I started a road trip to Kentucky for Thanksgiving.  It was a down-to-the-last-minute decision, one that I put off because I was truly dreading that 16+ hour drive each way. However, the kids were off school all week and that meant that I wasn't going to get any work done at home anyway.  Plus, we got some sad news just before Thanksgiving that my grandma's cancer has returned, after a 7-year remission.  Hopefully we'll know more in a few days, but that bit of news made the trip all the more important, and urgent, to me.  I have always known Momaw to be unstoppable.  She could work as hard as any man, and her homemade biscuits would make your mouth water.  Plus, my cousin and his family were making the trip from Hawaii this year.  I figured that if he could fly his family across 6 time zones, then surely I could drive myself and the kids North for a few days.

We ended up staying a couple of days longer than planned, just so we could visit my grandmas a little longer.  My other grandma is very ill also, and if you follow this blog, you'll know that she has been unwell for months.  Every time I squeeze in a visit, I feel like it might be the last time I get to see her.  We drove up this summer to see her in the hospital, and looking back at those photographs, she actually looked so healthy and lively back then. She couldn't remember my girls' names this time.  And although that broke my heart, I know that it's just a stage of life that she's going through, and that she still loves us all no matter what.

I did have my computer with me, but between all the different visits and dinners and cooking and driving from one family member's house to another, and four of those days being spent on the road (yes I am crazy), time and internet connection weren't always on my side.  We got home last night about 11:30pm, and I let the kids skip school and just sleep in this morning.  After we get unpacked and settled, I will be able to dig in and get caught back up on some galleries and emails.

Thanks for your patience, friends.  I will be back soon with photos from our trip, and stories to go along with them!

xo,

Stacey

Mini-Sessions 2012

I'm bringing back mini-sessions this year!!  And I'm keeping them super-simple.  Here are the details.....

You can reach me at the number and email above to reserve your session.  I hope to see your family soon!!

African Violets and Memories of a Sunny Window

Thinking of my Momaw today.  She could grow the most gorgeous African violets on the table under her front window.  I remember gently touching their fuzzy green leaves when I was a little girl, and hearing my mom praise her gift for growing them so beautifully. I'm certainly not known for my green thumb (rather, I am the girl with the black thumb who allowed a cactus to wither in her "care").  But I have high hopes that my sunny north-facing office window will give this little girl plenty of sunshine.  Our house is certainly warm enough for her, and since she's on my desk, it should be easier for me to remember to water her.  (Unlike the unfortunate plants on my back porch... the ones that are sadly neglected because I forget that they're there.  Oops.)

If nothing else, this pretty little violet is a beautiful reminder of my Momaw each day, and the memories I have surrounding her and my Popaw, and their tiny green house in Kentucky.  Oftentimes I wish they still lived in that little green house with the pitched roof, the beautiful silver maples in the yard, the crabapple trees and the tire swing... but I also know that God meant for things to be the way they are now.  So that is enough for me.  I'm glad He gives us the gift of memories, though. Mine sure are sweet.