Dear Little Me,

This picture has all kinds of love in it, doesn’t it? Disneyland, your dad, his extra short shorts and long socks, his nightly news sized video recorder?!

But wait.

See that camera in your hand?

See that camera case around your arm?

Yeah. Those are the things I noticed first about this picture. Those are the things I love most about this picture.

This was the first time a camera appeared in a photo of you. And it was most definitely not the last.

It was 1986. You were 10 years old. You’d just received the camera as a gift six months earlier for Christmas, and you’d used it all winter and spring. This was the first trip you took with that first camera.

Here’s what I see, girl.

You’re 10. Yes, 10. Now let me tell you. Here’s what I know about 10 year olds. Sometimes they think cameras are cool. They might even think cameras are so cool that they ask for one for Christmas. And they might get that camera for Christmas. They might be into it for a day, a week, or maybe even two weeks. But then they’ll put it away and they’ll forget about it. They might forget about it for months, or they might forget about it for years. They might forget about it so long that their younger sibling finds it tucked away in a cupboard and asks if she can use it. And then that younger sibling will think it’s cool for a week or two, but she’ll tuck it back away in the cupboard eventually. So yeah. That’s how 10 year olds manage cameras as far as I’ve seen.

Here’s what I know, girl.

Some adults? They think photography is cool. But yeah. Really? It’s just okay. Like, they realize it’s a necessity of life. You know. Something they should do to mark the occasion. They’ll break out their camera here and there. Or maybe they’ll realize after the fact that they should’ve brought it for this or that. But the truth is, they forgot it. They didn’t even think of it. Or maybe they’ll buy a brand new camera for baby’s birth, but only break it out on birthdays and Christmas. And photographs in general? They’ll take them, but they won’t care so much about how they keep them. They’ll find pics for their Christmas card, but really, they’re happy just getting the job done. They’ll take their family in for a professional photograph once, but once is enough for a lifetime.

Yeah. You’ll see all that, girl.

But through the years, you’ll realize there’s something different about you.

You see, this picture represents the beginning of a long journey. A lifetime journey. You’ll be holding that camera and many others a thousand different ways. That camera will never escape your mind. Never. You’ll always know where it is, and you’ll never forget it when you need it. Let’s face it. That camera is just as good as (or even better than) your purse. Need a purse? Then you need a camera. Don’t need a purse? Then you still need a camera.

You’ll be the girl, the teenager, the college student, the graduate student, the young wife, the mom of 1-2-3, the blogger – who’ll carry that camera everywhere. When they ask you to get in front of the camera, you’ll have to figure out where to put your own. Most of the time, you’ll hide the camera behind your back. Sometimes, if there’s a safe space and the picture is formal, you’ll put it down, off to the side so nobody can see. But you’ll never, ever forget to pick it up again after the picture’s taken.

You’ll be the mom who’ll freak out when the camera’s unexpectedly out of batteries on the first day of school. Because one of the worst ways you could ever imagine starting the school year is NOT being able to take pictures of your kids on the first day of school. Because after school and second day pictures just aren’t the same. And pictures taken by your neighbor are awesome, but they’re just not the same either.

You’ll be the one who goes on a cruise ship and dresses up fancy, and then has to wonder what you’re doing with that big ‘ol camera. You’ll be the one who decides to lug it around anyway, even after your husband suggests you should just leave it in the room tonight. Because you know a moment of inspiration could come like that. And you’d be disappointed if you didn’t have that camera to capture it. So you lug it. Even though you feel like an amateur, camera carrying fool at times.

You’ll be the one who “sees” photographs in your mind. When your camera’s not with you, you’ll experience life through an imaginary lens. You’ll take shots as life passes by, you’ll think to yourself, and you’ll say out loud a thousand times – “that would’ve been a great picture.”

You’ll be one who’s committed to printing pictures, organizing pictures, displaying and storing them in a way that’s functional and accessible for your family.

You’ll be the one who knows and admires a great photographer when she sees one.

You’ll be the one who spends a lifetime dreaming of becoming a photographer. Like, for actual money. Like, for your job. Like, you could do this all day long. But for one reason or another, that dream’s swooshed right under the rug until it comes to mind next time.

Through the years, you’ll be consistent, you’ll be persistent. Never once will you skip a beat with those cameras. They’ll always be in tow.

It’ll take you a long, long time to realize that photography is one of the only things you’ve done and loved for your entire life.

Yeah. There’ll be that, girl. There will be that.

Your love for photography will blindside you one day. You’ll realize it was always, always there.  

Yet, there will come a time when you’ll realize you’re not a professional. And girl, you might start to get a little frustrated. Because you’ll still see those photos in your mind. You’ll know the photos you want to take. You’ll see them as clear as day. You’ll know they’re possible because you’ll have one hour here and another there with the most amazing cameras you’ve laid hands on. Twenty shots with each will prove you haven’t been imagining things. Those shots are possible.

So while you’ll have upgraded your camera 10-15 times through all those years, there’ll come a time when you realize you’ve outgrown all the cameras you’ve ever had, including the one you have.

You’ll take 30-40-50 shots to try for the one you see. But your camera, it just doesn’t have capacity.

This frustrates you. Makes you want to give up and say forget it, I’m just amateur anyway. There’s no proof in the pudding. Those visions? Those perfectly planned photographs? They’re just imagined up anyway. Just take pictures with the camera you have and suck it up. Make the best of it. Make it work. Move on. Be grateful for the camera you have. And just be happy taking regular ‘ol pictures like everyone else and their mother does.

But hear me out girl…

Don’t despair.

When that happens, it’s time to start merging your faith with your love for the photograph.

You must have faith, little girl.

Faith there’s a reason you’ve carried those cameras all of those years. Faith He’ll help you realize the purpose of all that lugging. Faith He’ll put all the pieces together. Faith it will all make sense. Faith He’s given you eyes to see something He sees. Faith He’ll provide the camera to capture what needs to be seen.

Girl. Keep holding the camera. Don’t hide it away. Keep seeing what you see. Keep capturing what it is that moves you, speaks to you. There are stories to be told. And those cameras you’re going to be lugging for a lifetime are your vehicles for storytelling.

Do not be afraid.

Your future is filled with stories, words and photographs.

Don’t forget the photographs.

So girl, you just go. Keep on keeping on with those cameras.

Do what you can.

Believe you can.

Believe that what you see can become reality.

*This series is inspired in part by a blog post I wrote in January 2014 titled “Go. Like It Matters. Go. Like It’s Your Life.” And in part by Bonnie Gray’s new book, Finding Spiritual Whitespace. For more information about WHY I’m writing this series, click here to read the first post of this series titled “Restoring the Little Girl Voice (Part 1).”

It’s Friday, which means it’s time for another Meet Me At This Moment for Five Minute Friday post! I spend the last hour of Thursday chatting it up with a group of authentic and inspiring Five Minute Friday bloggers on Twitter (#FiveMinuteFriday #fmfparty). One minute past midnight EST Friday, Lisa-Jo Baker gives us a single word prompt and we all write a blog post centered around that word. We write for five minutes, and five minutes only! In the wjords of Lisa, this is “unscripted. unedited. real.” You meet me at this moment in time…my thoughts and opinions, my joys and sorrows, my dilemmas and dreams. And I receive one of the greatest gifts ever…a regular outlet for processing and expressing my thoughts without constantly editing myself. This is my life, my perspective, unfiltered.

The word of the week is WHAT MAMA DID. 

Mama captured moments and put them in place to be treasured.

A lifetime of memories quietly tucked away in books.

Photo albums mama made for each of us. Her days more than busy. Too busy. But mama took time.

The baby days, little feet and piggy tails and buggies and bottles on feet. A golden birthday celebrated in a little white chair. Daddy and mama, and sister came along too.

In the early days, smiles shined brightly on the pages. The girl full of energy and spunk. The girl who didn’t care what anyone thought. She was there with all the grandmas and the grandpas and the special trips made to Disneyland and Disneyworld and all the great mountains and geysers of the states. And brother was born. So tiny in her big elementary arms.

The birthday parties, they passed one by one. Angel cakes with mountains high of frosting. Bear collections and 4-H projects and sweet girl memories with Sara and Claire and Abbey.

And as she grew, mama captured all that too. Grandma played her last piece on the piano, and the girl turned adolescent. Awkward stances turned into tennis matches and prom dances.

And she was growing into herself, she loved to dress up, even then. Some days she was curly, some days she was straight. She had life in her, but did what she was told. Concerts and recitals and musicals a plenty. The days were good and filled to the brim. Graduation in a gym with grandpa and auntie, and sweet buddy Charlie and tear-filled Jamie.

College days were here. Wisdom teeth were pulled, grandma celebrated her last birthday, and this girl-woman got engaged. Graduation and showers and a wedding in two months. A move for school, another two years, and a stadium with thousands marked the end for women who knew how hard they worked to earn that graduate degree.

Time passed, and passed some more. A baptism was on that last page. She had her first, a new chapter. A baptism meant it was time for mama to stop filling the pages. But mama? She continued to mark each day, each memory, each moment in her heart. And although pages were no longer filled by mama, a new mama had been birthed, and she did what mama did. She filled pages with a lifetime of love.

From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.  Ephesians 4:16

Amy

It is my pleasure to introduce you to my friend and our family photographer, Jessica! Be prepared, this post is loaded with family photographs and full of love and admiration for Jessica.

I LOVE photographs. I’ve been behind the camera since I received my first as a gift in fifth grade. Taking pictures is the ONE interest I developed in childhood that carried through all the years into adulthood. Others are empty handed in moments I wouldn’t think of being without a camera. Others wax and wane with pictures, years missing from the photo album, or just a few strays here and there. I’m the obsessed one, the one with camera in hand capturing every moment. I frame up pictures in my mind when I’m empty handed, and my day is thrown off if I show up to an important event and discover I have a dead battery. I keep albums for our family and each of our children, and my negatives, discs and memory cards are the only possession I’d grab in a fire (family an obvious first!). Writing and photography two careers I’ve always aspired to, but for years never thought realistic. This space, a welcomed outlet for developing both.

There are just a few things that remain of us when we pass from this world…

Our legacy.

Our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren if we’re lucky to live long enough.

And photographs.

Sure there are rings and heirlooms, and a rare few have published books and composed and performed songs that live for generations, but ultimately any given life is narrowed to a legacy and some photographs. With that reality in mind, I value and prioritize professional family photographs.

So you can only imagine how elated I was to discover Jessica was a photographer when we first met five years ago! Today, I honor Jessica for taking those photographs, capturing those beautiful moments in time, for me, and for my family.

For the freedom I experience every time I look at this picture from my daughter’s 4-year photo shoot, thank you Jessica.

For walking with us into the deep, capturing a photo that was one of my favorites from the second I saw it, thank you Jessica.

For a special pregnancy shoot with my sister and the picture that brought me to tears, the one in which I saw hope amidst so much uncertainty and fear, thank you Jessica.

For setting up great family photos – this will always be one of my favorites, thank you Jessica.

For taking the only picture everyone on Twitter has known me by for two years, thank you Jessica.

For a photograph that signified a fresh start after six+ years of trauma and chaos, thank you Jessica.

For this bittersweet photo, my last pregnancy and the last photograph of us as a family of four, thank you Jessica.

Today I’m grateful for you Jessica, the woman behind the camera in every one of these photographs, the woman responsible for capturing moments that will last a lifetime and beyond, the woman who has the courage to do what she loves. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:19-21

Amy

I asked Jessica to share a few words about her love of photography and she greatly exceeded my expectations with this. From Jessica, in her own words, with much heart…

I’ve always been a true extrovert, a REAL people person. I’ve always had a knack for talking and talking to anyone. What I didn’t know until maybe five years ago is that I also have a knack for photography. What started as a love for others’ work has turned into my career.

I feel so fortunate to have been given the opportunity to capture and document the lives of my friends and family. I say “friends” because of how close I feel to a family after spending just a session with them. I know all their faces, their laugh lines, their kids’ eye sparkles, giggles, who hides behind daddy’s legs, and who is a complete ham in front of the camera. I see “my families” (that’s what I call my clients) through my lens while smiling at them. Capturing their moments warms my heart. I’ve had the opportunity to spend the day with so many different families bouncing from one feel to the next. Crazy, spunky, spirited families, to soft, gentile, emotional families. Children that LOVE the camera and those that I have to work with, sing songs to, tickle, and play peek-a-boo.

Photography has spoken to me over the years and has become something I am so proud of. It’s been a blessing for my family. I get to stay home with my boys, but when I go to work my kids know that mommy LOVES what she does. My boys peek over my shoulder while I’m editing and say “I didn’t know you took Cooper’s pictures today,” or “Wow mom, that’s a good one.”

My goal with every family is to document the real moments. The way those parents looked when they were “parenting” their children. Mom’s big smile, her soft hands, squinty glimpses, the way she looks at her babies with such love. Dad’s muscular arms, big shoes, his tight embrace while he throws his little boy in the air and catches him, and his scruffy face. One day all we will be left with is the memories of our parents. Our minds can only hold so much without a visual reminder. Photography gives us what we are missing in our memories, it fills the void, fills our walls with the smiles of our children, it fills up social media sights with what we are most fond of, and photography literally fills my heart with happiness.

Jessica

*NOTE: If you live in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area and would like to hire Jessica, please send me an email or message and I will forward you Jessica’s contact information. Jessica has not paid me to speak kindly of her photography business, and we have compensated Jessica in full for every photo session you see in this post.