2012 and an empty white board

 

A few days ago Kyle and I sat down and spent about 3 hours talking about this coming year and the last. In my head I had it worked out that we would have this wall of a chalk board and we would make a giant inspiration board for 2012. We don’t have a giant chalk board so rather than make one…. we took 3 dry erase markers, and wrote out our dreams and aspirations for the next year. It looked different than I thought it would. Not surprising…everything does.

We talked about Jesus, and how we want more of Him and less of us. Less of our earthly desires and more of the ability to see things through the lens of His love.

How we want to spend more time outside with our daughter and less time on our phones and laptops.

Under the Mom heading I wrote, “More exercise, less caffeine. Prayer specifically for my husband and family, on purpose. Less shopping. Meal Planning.”

Under the Dad heading we wrote “Relax. Less Everything.”

Under the family heading we wrote “Go to bed earlier.” and “Hikes, because G can!” and “Baby 2???” and “Family worship”

Marriage held “planned date night twice a month” and “retreat every 6 months” (retreat as in GET AWAY)

And despite all of the hurdles we’ll have to take to get there, I wrote “LAND”…and Kyle drew a treehouse with a tree so big that he made the staircase in the trunk, Swiss Family Robinson style, with a window peeking out of the leaves in the middle.

I sat back and stared at that board, as I have for 3 or 4 minutes a day since we made it. And I saw our life, mapped out, dreamed out….not so much planned as inspired. And I get excited.

I think about all the things in my life that God has done that I never thought he would. Desires I didn’t even know I had being fulfilled before they turned into longings. And God, the merciful One, taking away. And I get excited. And nervous.

The last thing I wrote on the white board was “JPP” as in (Jade Pierce Photo). And I felt so much so quickly that it ended up being the thing that I wrote the most under, but couldn’t finish. I walked away from this part of our exercise feeling so…heavy.

Yesterday I felt heavy again. I sat down on the couch and just let the heaviness weigh on me. When Kyle looked at me he recognized it immediately and asked me to share. I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what it was. So I reached into my counseling and knew that my feelings needed to be vocalized and felt in order to be left behind. So I voiced my confusion. I feel like my creativity will die if I keep going down this path. The easy one. The proven one. I feel like maybe I need to be something….different.

The reason that photographers love weddings so much is NOT the money….well the reason I love weddings is NOT the money. It’s the inherent authenticity. The beautiful rawness just waiting to be captured by a shutter. A bride so excited that she just can’t stop smiling. A groom so nervous that he can’t look anyone in the eye, unless it’s to laugh nervously at a joke he didn’t hear because he was too busy thinking about the next 50 years with his bride. And the bridesmaids and the groomsmen, they feel it too. Sisters, brothers, future in-laws, cousins, best friends: all nervous and excited and JOYFUL that their loved one is no longer one, but two. And the cake. The flowers. The old broken down whiskey barrels and vintage books carefully selected by the bride months in advance to give just the right feel in that beautiful reception hall.

Then the ceremony, so carefully scripted and yet most of the time so beautifully flawed. The tears that flow down a groom’s face so freely when he sees his bride coming toward him to join him once and for all. The bride’s father (OH the bride’s father always gets me) so reluctant and seemingly so willing to give his baby girl away to this man who he says he trusts…but it takes a groom a lifetime to prove he’s good enough to a father.

The vows, complete with blunders and nervous stuttering. The rings. The unity whatever is always the best. The sand blows, the candle won’t light…the love remains.

The triumphant declaration of “husband and wife”.

The fantastic reception where everyone gets their chance to show their appreciation to the newly married, and dance their butts off. I’ve seen choreographed dances, long tearful toasts; at my sister-in-law’s wedding, her new brother-in-law sang a rousing acoustic rendition of “Let’s Get it On”, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Laughing tears are every bit as good as sentimental ones. The first dance of the couple, the mother/son dance, the father/daughter dance. Guess which one always gets my tears flowing?

And the exit. One final time to be adored in your wedding attire amidst sparklers, bubbles, birdseed, and tearful hugs of goodbye.

It’s a story. Every little piece of it. And we’re all living one. With chapters and subtitles and quotes from larger stories inside of our small ones.

And as Kyle and I talk I realize that I want this to be what I capture. The story of people’s lives. Not their Sunday best. Not the primped up perfect version of a family, but the raw and beautiful part of a family. I’m talking about the beauty of a Sunday afternoon in your backyard, having a BBQ. The top knot on a Momma cooking barefoot in a kitchen. The sleeping baby on the couch because she really didn’t want to take a nap, but she was so tired from staying up for the ball drop the night before, and that 20 year old couch is just so comfortable, that she just couldn’t help but sleep. The photos I want to see of my family are the ones where my Mimi is in her bathrobe and curlers with a baby on her hip opening the screen door into the backyard. The simple beauty of it.

And my eyes dried as my guts spilled out for everyone to see, amidst Gemma saying “don’t cry Momma” as I reassured that “Momma’s fine baby, I’m just talking.”  And my dear sweet husband looked at me and said, “Jade, what’s the rush? Take the time. You don’t pressure yourself to be like anyone else in anything but timing. What’s the rush?” And I looked at him and said, “But it’s the first of year.” And he looked at me so lovingly and said with such eloquence, “So?” …he just always knows what to say.

And I feel better. To finally have a handle on what I’ve been feeling the last few months. To name my creativity and have it out there for at least my most important person to see.

And now I’m telling you.

My story consists of so much more than I can display on facebook. So much more than I can tweet in 140 characters. Even more than we can sludge out onto a white board in 3 hours.  And I love living it and want to share that gratitude.

I want to share my gift of storytelling in other’s lives. I want to tell your story.

2012 . storytelling. i’m ready. and I believe the Father is leading us, and speaking to me in new, sweet ways. Oh, how I love Jesus, and his patience with me.

 

 

 

On another note, I feel like G is doing this a lot to me lately. Baby girl is watching me close. Makes me so aware of all the good and terrible things I have to offer as a role model.

But good gosh I love her. And I pray daily for obedience.