DAY 11: BEFORE WE GET STARTED

This morning, I talked to a new client on the phone. She asked me to take pictures of her parents for their 50th wedding anniversary. Now, I do not label myself a Photographer by any stretch. I know who I consider to be true "Photographers" and I do not fall anywhere close, so I don't give myself the title and cringe when other people label me as such. I studied mostly old school, black and white photography in college and would spend entire days locked in a darkroom  (one of my most favorite places in the entire world) processing film and printing pictures. I left school early, though, for various reasons, one of which being that I realized if I wanted to have a career in photography I would need to really sell my work...sell myself. The thought of yelling "pick me, pick me!" still is far too scary and doesn't interest me in the least. One of the appeals of photography is being able to hide behind the camera and secretly capture those things I see as beautiful, even if nobody else sees them that way. I also get to help people capture memories of their loved ones and that is quite a humbling gift. It's a quiet place, a safe place. A safe place that becomes not so safe when I put a price on my work. So, if asked, I take pictures for a few friends and others here and there for a small fee. I don't chase work, it usually finds me cowering in a corner trying to convince it to ask someone else. 

After finishing the phone conversation this morning, the insecurity began. It's always there, really, but it flares up a bit more when the pressure is on. Like water being in a teapot lying dormant until the heat is on. I haven't even met these people, but I'm already critiquing myself and fearing an unhappy outcome. This isn't the only area of my life where the critiquing happens. It's easy to allow the voice in my head, the one I think knows me best, to remind me again why I shouldn't even bother trying, why I'll never be anything worthwhile. It gives me another valid reason for not taking the risk and I listen. Why is it that this is the voice that I listen to so often? Why should it get stage time and be allowed to suck the energy, the joy, and the very life out of me?

Even in typing these words I realized that the voice in my head is NOT the one that knows me best. Why? Because the voice inside only sees things from my perspective. It may know my shortcomings, my past failures, my fears, my deepest desires, my quiet tears, but it can't see the whole picture of my life. Only God can do that. He can see my life from start to finish. He can see what I was created for, the lives He has ordained for me to touch in some small way. He can see my shortcomings and fears and knows exactly what I can handle. He can see those things I see as past failures in the context of my whole life and knows how those may have helped me change course to be right where I am today. He sees my deepest desires and longs for me to make His desires for me my own. He sees my quiet tears and is right there beside me in every moment. Why isn't it His voice that I listen for? Why isn't He the one I run to first? Sometimes I'm afraid to hear Him, what He might say. Not because I think His words will be ones of anger, but because I'm afraid they'll be what I know they'll be, words of love and encouragement. He would tell me that I'm His daughter, that I'm beautiful, that He loves me more than I could ever know, and it would be hard to believe Him, because I don't think I'm worthy of such love. And I'm not. But He loves me anyways. Without condition. Without fail. It's not about me, it's about Him. 

If only His was the voice that I listened to when the critiquing started. If only His was the strength I relied on when my fear is overwhelming. If only His were the arms that I fell into when I feel utterly defeated before even starting. I hope that I reach a point in my life where this is commonplace. Until then, it's worth working towards. Do you ever feel the same way? 

DAY 8: WHEN IT'S HARD TO HOPE

The next three weeks will prove to be a whirlwind for us. We will be taking the first big out of state trip we've ever taken as a married couple. Go D.C.! We will be coming home in time for Mr. N. to get ready for his next out of state work trip. If all goes well, we'll also be starting and completing our fertility treatment. In this small window of 15 days that it takes to start and finish this treatment, we realized that everything must happen exactly as scheduled in order for this to work this month....to...the...day.

We never take big trips. The biggest trip we've taken in three years was to Disneyland with my family (OHMYGOSHILOVEDISNEYLANDSOMUCH!!!!!!!!!!!). We wanted this one to be our 3 year anniversary trip. My monthly cycle is rarely on time these days and yet last month it was only one day late and we were able to get all of our fertility testing done with no problems. Now we wait to see if October will be as perfect, because if it's not we have to wait until next month to try for a baby. If all starts on time, I'll be on meds during our trip, and we'll come home to ovulation tests, doctor visits, and procedures. But there might be a baby this time.

I want so much to hope, to believe that THIS could be the time....our time. I want to believe that all the waiting, and aching, and tears, and trying to hope, and failing to hope, and picking names, and praying could finally be culminating over possibly the most awkward set of 15 days one could pick for such a thing. It would make an incredible story. A story only God could tell, only He could ordain. And so I hope, even though every ounce of me screams not to, reminding me of every disappointment of the past. I don't want to be disappointed, again. I don't want to stress about this, again. I don't want to wait another month, only to see it fail, again. I don't want to watch the next wave of pregnancy pass through our friends and church and leave us on the sidelines, again. I don't know that I could take all of this pain, again. But I do want to trust and be glad regardless of how this goes. I want to remember that I'm not guaranteed anything, but God still works ALL THINGS together for our good and His glory. I want to let God have His way and be stronger than the pain. I want to wish and hope with childlike anticipation that November could be the beginning of a new and very tiny life. It's such a scary thing to hope.

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18

DAY 6: IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS

This morning, I came across a neat video by Ann Voskamp found on Emily's site at Chatting at the Sky. It's fantastic! Please take the time to scroll down on Emily's post and watch the video. You won't be sorry. In it, Ann talks about living life moment by moment and not rushing so much. Can you relate to the rushing around? And I don't just mean physical rushing, but also mental rushing. I sure can! My goodness, can I ever! I am not a moment by moment person. I'm an 'if only' person. If only this happened..... If only I had..... If only I was better at..... If only, if only, if only. That's an exhausting way to live.  It's a life of shallow breaths, an aching heart, and a weary soul.

Mr. N. once asked me if I thought I was an envious person. The answer is complicated. Or is it? I'm not really into "stuff". If people have nicer clothes, nicer homes, nicer cars that doesn't really bother me. What bothers me is when they have something that is a deep desire in my heart. It used to be a husband, now it's children. Especially if, in my limited and blinded judgment, it doesn't seem like they "deserve" it. Who am I to know that?! Epic fail on my part. So, yes, the envy is there and makes me constantly look forward to the day when I have that particular thing. It's hard to keep looking towards that moment and still appreciate the here and now. It's nearly impossible to look back on the day I just completed and list off the things I am most thankful for. That kind of existence is NOT what God intended for us. Yes, He has placed certain desires in our hearts. Yes, He has His own timing for when and if those are given to us and just how they'll look, which may not always be how we'd imagined them. But He has also commanded us not to worry about tomorrow. 

 “Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." Matthew 6: 25-34

 It can feel almost impossible not to worry each day, but it's a worthy battle to fight. We know God is faithful and that His character is absolutely trustworthy, so let's unclench our fists around those dreams we're sure will disappear if we hand the control over. Who are we kidding, really? We know that holding those things so tightly is more of a security blanket for us than something we're able to control. I can't magically put a baby in my uterus (that would be creepy and weird, p.s.) or know exactly where the child we're eventually meant to adopt is right at this moment, but I hold so tightly to these desires that you'd think I actually did have magical powers. Again, exhausting. 

Will you try some things with me? Try listing the things you're thankful for, no matter how small they may seem. Check out Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, if that will help inspire you, and take a look at her blog, just to see what in the world she's talking about. Keep things simple. Enjoy right here, right now. Take a deep breath. Try to soak up every moment of the story God is telling in your life right now, whether you feel like you're on board with it or not. HE LOVES YOU! It may not always feel like that, but that is a fact.  

Anatomy of a Playlist

Meet Fred. He is the oldest of our Middle Earthlings at a whopping 8 and 3 quarters years old. I mention Fred, because he and I took a drive to the vet's office this morning so that he could have his teeth cleaned. Fred has had more visits to the dentist than I have since I got my braces off in 1997, which is impressive since he wasn't actually born until 2002. Lucky boy! He would disagree. Fred has a bit of a split personality. He's a lover at home. He loves a good nap, and by love, I mean he understands and respects the deep layers of brilliance and reverence that naps deserve, like I do. He's playful and, when he wants to, he'll actually fetch his toys when you throw them to him. But at the vet's office, he's what they call a "Hugs and Kisses Kitty". That little phrase stands in for one big four letter word, "RAGE". Oh yes! I can't really blame him. I mean, it must be frightening to go into an office filled with other animals that you've pretty much only seen from the living room window and have strangers poke you with needles and such. Like people, each animal handles the fear differently. Our girl, Merry, will purr, especially if she's with Mr. N., and remind the doctor and the staff of just how enchanting she really is. Pippin tends to embrace the fear and channel his anger into a rigid body, toothless hiss, and taco rolled tongue. He looks like a cobra ready to strike. It's pretty impressive, actually. Anyways, while Fred and I were in the car, I turned on my ipod and chose my favorite play list to calm his nerves. 

My favorite play list is entitled "Little Miss Sunshine" after the Richard Hargreaves children's book with a little bit of Alan Arkin, from the movie titled the same, thrown in. It's compiled of my most favorite songs. Not the ones that are just enjoyable, mind you, but the ones that make me feel AMAZING (thanks, dude!). The songs that I actually hope will come up next and start a mental dance party during (the only place I look good dancing. *tear). This play list is kind of like an explosion of 1940's big band meets The Swell Season with bits of shrapnel from the Steven Curtis Chapman mullet days, Mumford and Sons, and my favorite Christmas music. It's like a diet cherry coke with crushed ice and tater tots on a hot summer day. It has soothing properties. Fred seemed to calm down as soon as "Footloose" came on. I'm not sure he was visualizing Kevin Bacon dancing the same way I was, but that's his loss my problem okay. 

After a quick Starbucks run, my mind wandered from how difficult it is to drop my sweet boy off for the day every single time I have to, to how scary it is for both of us, to fear, to risk, to needing to be in control, to getting my hopes up, to that SNL skit of Will Ferrell singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" Lawrence Welk Show style and projectile vomiting (Andy William's version is in my play list for that very reason). Doesn't taking risks feel like that sometimes?! There's so much excitement and anticipation that seem to wrap us up in the festive sweater and turtleneck of a 1950's holiday special, but there's also the intense anxiety and projectile vomiting in realizing that we may fail, we may lose, we may have our hopes dashed again, we may not be in control of what happens next, and knowing that we really have no idea what the bleep is going on. All the what-ifs. A friend of mine recently gave a new clarity to a very familiar verse. "Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy - meditate on these things." Philippians 4:8 She focused on the word "True" and said that the things we worry about, the what-ifs that we blow to king-sized proportions, the futures we worry about, all of those things are not truths. Yes, it's good to be cautious sometimes, to be informed, and to make the proper preparations for our futures, but creating scenarios of what could be, or what we think should be, means that we're creating an imaginary world of sorts for ourselves and not focusing on what we know to be true, namely that God has everything under control. From Fred's vet visit, to which job He has just around the corner for us, to when we'll meet our future spouse, or be given the gift of a child, to how we'll pay next month's rent, to the state of our country....He knows it all. It doesn't make the waiting any easier, it doesn't always bring clarity, nor does it take away the fear and anxiety of not understanding His timing or His ways, but we know that He hears us, He grants us grace in each difficult moment, and will keep us going. Sometimes it's about the faith of stepping out, sometimes it's about the faith of staying back, and sometimes it's just about the faith of taking our fears, our worries, our frustrations, our hopes, our dreams and laying them before Him admitting that we're at a loss. Turning towards Him rather than away from Him in the tough times.


It really is a process. I guess it's good that I have a swinging soundtrack on this crazy journey. =]


"....Everybody cut footloose....."!