Surprises

Over the Christmas break I was able to spend some time with my rotten little nephews, which included, the now annual, holiday picture taking session.

Here are some of my favorite shots:

And then while I was taking pictures this happened:

SURPRISE! I hope you are just as shocked as I was! This is how my sister told me she was pregnant…. I was freaking out. Cayson and Cooper had no idea what they were holding. I was trying to take pictures while hyperventilating.. it was quite the scene. She will be 7 months pregnant at my wedding. I am so pumped… now about her bridesmaid dress…

Jack.

My roommate and college friend is graduating from FSU!

I have so many funny stories to share about Jackie.. but I will have to tell you them in person.

This is Jackie’s mischievous face.

If you want an accurate portrayal of Jackie’s time in college… this is it.

All of her friends hate these pants. I am proposing a honorary bonfire  after she graduates

Megan Graduates!

You know it’s pretty easy to take pictures when the people are ridiculously good looking.

My friend Megan is graduating from Flagler this semester as a bona-fide elementary school teacher.

Her sister popped in for a few guest appearances!

loooove this pic!

Isn’t she lovely?

Emily the Graduate

Emily needed some smokin’ hot pictures for her graduation announcements.

She was on Fire!

Avail

I grew up with Hunter Davis. He is the son of my pastor from back home in Polk.

Look how God is using him now (he is the blonde one).

Beautiful Hands

We stooped under the door

We entered into a shelter-

a barely habitable structure

with warm air, strong smell, & dirt floor.

This was her home.

She welcomed the outsiders-

with our wide eyes & light skin.

She demonstrated her work.

We watched her grind the coconut-

with power & grace.

She was strength & she was diligence.

I couldn’t take my eyes away,

I couldn’t stop looking at her hands-

hands of power & grace,

working to make her commodity-

coconut oil “to keep skin beautiful.”

She sold beauty in a bottle,

and her shirt was tied together

just for the sake of modesty.

I looked around her home- walls, tin, & dirt.

I took in her work- the sweat & strength of her hands.

I cried as I came face to face with the life of an elderly woman,

selling beauty in a bottle.

If only I could bottle up her hands,

her beautiful hands.

You Know That Feeling…

when there are not enough years, months, days, minutes in your life to do all you want to do!

I think I’m having a crisis. There are so many things I am passionate about, joyful for, angry against, and just plain obsessed with. It seems to me I can’t even begin to start one thing because there are 80 things I have to do, learn, accomplish, experience.

I must write a novel. I need to tap into my, yet undiscovered, painting abilities. I know I can draw- I just have to get good at. I mean it’s really about time I mastered guitar. I should definitely be fluent in Spanish. I want to have an impact on international women’s rights issues. I need to place children in homes. Writing a grant is a pivotal point for my career. I still need to shoot a turkey. Ok, this is getting out of control. but I just can’t stop! I am bent on photographing something profoundly beautiful. I hope to have the before-mentioned as a side business. Travel, travel, travel! Oh, I’m getting married. I have this craft idea that I want to do. One day I will decorate my own home. Being super fit is so important! I have this weird inkling to recite a poem on video tape. I want to lead and teach. Adventure is a must. I’m always finding the next book I must read. This gets in the way of writing my own. New friends, new experiences, new places!

I’m telling you, I’m bursting. Maybe I should just appreciate the talents and experiences I do/will have in my life without clamoring for the ones I might miss out on.

OR maybe I should lay off the “Crystal Light Energy Wild Strawberry” drink mix for a while.

On to the next one.

Catchy Slogan

Don’t step in poop… Come to our wedding!

Rhyming is overrated.

Time Travel

I was almost back in Colombia for a second…

When Their Homes Fell

We packed all the bags of food to hand out to those in need. Rice, pasta, sardines, sugar, beans, oil- as much as we could fit in a plastic bag. We each carried two bags through the neighborhood surrounded by our local friends for protection- this was a very dangerous endeavor. We walked up hesitantly to the homes that had fallen in on themselves- everything broken, rubble and belongings strewn about. Complete squalor. With hushed whispers and hidden pointers, we were told who to hand the bags to. I offered my bag to a woman sitting on a ledge with her two daughters close to her sides. Then I was instructed by local leaders to “preach the Word of God.” I interpreted that as “have a conversation about Jesus.” So, with hands shaking and a blank mind, I began to talk with the woman about her tragedy. She said they had been sleeping when the land moved and her house caved in. She thanked God that her family was safe, but as for her home… she pointed to a pile of rubble. The woman stated she was familiar with the church but currently uninvolved. I proceeded into deeper waters by telling her that we gave this gift of food to show the love of God. I told her that I hope she did not see us but rather saw God. I wished upon her the knowledge that Jesus is enough and the provider of all- most importantly, of love. I gave her a hug, and I understood as she spoke Spanish words of sincere appreciation. Justin said there were tears in her eyes but I was too overwhelmed to know. I was trying to prevent my own tears from spilling out. The poverty and tragedy was almost too much to bear. I felt their situation fully- through the eyes of a woman with a pile of concrete as a home, through a bag of food held with insecure hands, through comforting words I did not intend to speak. As I continued to take in the sight of loss and simple humanity, I sat on a ledge with a young girl. I stared with her at a house with no roof and walls unable to bear their own weight. I asked in a language not my own, “Is this your house?” Her eyes glanced away only for a moment into mine when she answered a simple, “yes”. My heart broke into the many pieces of rubble I stared at. I felt I knew then what it meant to give- give with my heart.