Little ladies... :)

Here's a snippet from the photo shoot with the Corder girls! I was able to see Becca hold Ruthie for the first time... Let's just say that her excitement made it pretty easy to get some good shots of her and her new little sister... :)

Looking Back

I’ve been spending some time these past couple of days reading my old Xanga entries. It’s as if I’m looking into the life of someone else. I was once passionate… lively… and expressive. I wonder what happened to that girl who, at one time, threw all caution to the wind, and just simply bore all. I used to love to write about those amazing things that my Father was teaching me at the time. I would say those things without abandon, clinging to Him alone without fear of the thoughts of others.

My speech has become trite and lazy, without freedom… or passion… or anything of the sort. Those once lengthy explanations are now condensed and dry. I must admit, I’m not sure where to go from here… Hmmm...

Good Times with the Fam

My New Favorite Place...

Coffee shops and I sure do get along well...

I have allowed my affections to wander. I have set up rivals. I have grieved Him. Sweetest and dearest of all beloveds, I have treated Thee as an unfaithful wife treats her husband. Oh, my cruel sins, my cruel self. What can I do? Tears are a poor show of my repentance, my whole heart boils with indignation at myself. Wretch that I am, to treat my Lord, my All in All, my exceeding great joy, as though He were a stranger. Jesus, Thou forgivest freely, but this is not enough, prevent my unfaithfulness in the future. Kiss away these tears, and then purge my heart and bind it with sevenfold cords to Thyself, never to wander more.
-Charles Spurgeon

Texture

This past Friday, I taught Robby a lesson in finding natural textures. Here are some shots I took last week to illustrate my points... :) A few of them aren't "natural", but are still effective.

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the
themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
-Walt Whitman