To Write

Why did I ever stop writing? There is freedom and release at the tip of the pen. How easily I forget what is important to chase after those things that will soon fade. Technology wraps me in it’s tight hold and begs to become my all… my savior. It’s ever-growing and takes a constant effort to keep up… but the simple miracle of a pen and paper is an ageless commodity.

Perhaps, I will start again. Rebirth. Rejuvenation.
Take that journal everywhere with you, dear girl… and don’t lose sight of the gift of expression. Your thoughts are a treasure that will come and go as does the summer wind… seize the opportunity to pour out pieces of yourself and fill the pages with wonder. Someday, tomorrow even, you will be someone different. Everyday evokes a change… and you will not remember who you were just 24 hours ago. But… you can capture that person on paper. Speak of inspiration… love… the simple devotion of following the Savior… even the hearts deepest cries. That voice will mature, and the young girl that once was will grow into something new. She will be lost forever if not for the life on paper.

Renewed Gratitude

"Yesterday was glorious. To some, it would seem like just another Wednesday... but when you're attending a church where there's no doubt of what you're called to do, it's like an adventure everytime. The Lord has brought 15+ teenagers into my life that have changed my world in so many ways. To be able to stand behind a microphone and hear their voices singing to the Lord is... incredible. They are gifts... truly. To be able to walk beside them and be a part of their lives is so far beyond what I deserve."

I wrote this in October, 2006. I think about this post from time to time and remember exactly where I was and how I felt when I wrote it. My heart was filled with intense gratitude. Now, five and a half years later, I am once again filled with gratitude. Not a moment spent with them is ordinary. The Lord, because of His awesome grace, has granted the opportunity to be a part of the lives of these teenagers, and it leaves my heart in complete awe.

Morning View

I open my back door in the fall, and the sky is bursting with color.
 

"It was very good..."

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." - Mark Twain

He understands the cry of my spirit. The longing that I reveal to so few. Each fiber of my being absolutely yearns to get out- to experience. How much of that adventure can I desire before it becomes coveting what I do not have? Should I simply settle within the season in which I find myself, and not "explore... dream... discover"?

I went with family to watch Avatar yesterday, and it ignited the fire in me all the more to see worlds that I have yet to see. Pandora, for some, stoked depression. "Our world will never be that good. That perfect. That beautiful." I'm sorry but... are you blind? My Father is not captured within human limitations as is James Cameron. Just imagine what He is capable of creating. It didn't bring me down in the least bit. Instead of watching creativity across the big screen, I want to view it at it's peak.

Sit under a sky delicately painted with His stars. Watch a blazing sun rise out of the early morning sky. Stand so close to the edge of a cliff that I can feel my heart beating in my throat. Feel the rush of water below my feet and know... my God created this. My passionate God was inspired by a black void to create something so spectacular that it steals my breath. Not simply in Ohio. There's an entire world out there that my God made beautiful with a word.

"God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day." -Gen. 1:31

Photo Shoot Updates

Chod C.- Senior Photos





Delong Family- Children's Portraits




Denius Family- Family Portraits




Gentry G.- Headshots




Anna H.- 2009 Riding Competition




Alex L.- Senior Photos




Spencer Family- Family Portraits

Question

I wonder how much of a routine person one can be without becoming boring. What do you think? Are you a routine individual or more on the spontaneous side? Do you prefer to spend time with one type of person over the other?

"Let us draw near to the fire of martyred Lawrence, that our cold hearts may be warmed thereby. The merciless tyrant, understanding him to be not only a minister of the sacraments, but a distributor also of the Church riches, promised to himself a double prey, by the apprehension of one soul. First, with the rake of avarice to scrape to himself the treasure of poor Christians; then with the fiery fork of tyranny, so to toss and turmoil them, that they should wax weary of their profession. With furious face and cruel countenance, the greedy wolf demanded where this Lawrence had bestowed the substance of the Church: who, craving three days' respite, promised to declare where the treasure might be had. In the meantime, he caused a good number of poor Christians to be congregated. So, when the day of his answer was come, the persecutor strictly charged him to stand to his promise. Then valiant Lawrence, stretching out his arms over the poor, said: "These are the precious treasure of the Church; these are the treasure indeed, in whom the faith of Christ reigneth, in whom Jesus Christ hath His mansion-place. What more precious jewels can Christ have, than those in whom He hath promised to dwell? For so it is written, 'I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave Me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took Me in.' And again, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.' What greater riches can Christ our Master possess, than the poor people in whom He loveth to be seen?"

O, what tongue is able to express the fury and madness of the tyrant's heart! Now he stamped, he stared, he ramped, he fared as one out of his wits: his eyes like fire glowed, his mouth like a boar formed, his teeth like a hellhound grinned. Now, not a reasonable man, but a roaring lion, he might be called. "Kindle the fire (he cried)--of wood make no spare. Hath this villain deluded the emperor? Away with him, away with him: whip him with scourges, jerk him with rods, buffet him with fists, brain him with clubs. Jesteth the traitor with the emperor? Pinch him with fiery tongs, gird him with burning plates, bring out the strongest chains, and the fire-forks, and the grated bed of iron: on the fire with it; bind the rebel hand and foot; and when the bed is fire-hot, on with him: roast him, broil him, toss him, turn him: on pain of our high displeasure do every man his office, O ye tormentors."

The word was no sooner spoken, but all was done. After many cruel handlings, this meek lamb was laid, I will not say on his fiery bed of iron, but on his soft bed of down. So mightily God wrought with his martyr Lawrence, so miraculously God tempered His element the fire; that it became not a bed of consuming pain, but a pallet of nourishing rest." (Excerpt from Fox's Book of Martyrs)