In the sunset warmth and glow of those who have my whole heart.
Three years ago we were newly six and stepped in front of a dear friend's lens the same day she happened to find out she was pregnant. The images she made were the essence of our daughter's dance, the light we knew in each other and the way we were coming together as one. They're here.
And then two years ago we waited out a storm, waiting for the clouds to part before we ran bare feet across the sand, life swollen within me, we would hold our gift of grace just a few months after. They're here.
And last year, again, the photographer we now consider friend made art of our seven once again and in the glow of the waves as the sun passed the salt, we let the breeze carry our hair and we danced as the wind was the rhythm of joy. They are here. And this year, this experience again was gifted as a conspiracy between artist and dearest love on Christmas morning, and it all truly brought tears to eyes and spilling down my smiling cheeks. Because I knew these images would (and yes they do) always hold my heart.
Not because I would ever or will ever call anything about these years bitter, though sweet falls short of the gifts they are. But because they're more like the words of the story we've been placed into. Or perhaps, even more, our own pile of rocks as a reminder. See, thousands of years ago, a people fled their oppressors and in their fear came against a mighty river. It would have, should've stopped them. And yet, our God, the same one who breathes the life into our bones, the same God who gives and takes away, He chose to part the waters, make a way, transcend all they could ever do on their own and take them across to promise, to provision, to peace. But before he did, he paused them in their steps, asked them to choose simple stones as a marking for the future and stack them tall up against the elements of storm and time. Because when they were passed by, when they were seen, when they were told of for generations to come, His goodness would be remembered. “In the future your children will ask you, ‘What do these rocks mean?’ Tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan River on dry land. The Lord your God caused the water to stop flowing until you finished crossing it, just as the Lord did to the Red Sea. He stopped the water until we crossed it. The Lord did this so all people would know he has great power and so you would always respect the Lord your God.’” Joshua 4:21-24So while these photographs are everything of color and emotion and movement and devotion, they are even more to our family. Because within this imagery is the reminder for my children, my grandchildren, for our forever, that our God has been so faithful, so mighty, so immensely generous and will forever be good. Photographs below made by the one and only Joy Prouty of Wildflowers Photos.