Posts in families
The illuminated beauty of the in-between years.

I've been fascinated in a new way lately, a deeper sense of delightwatching these families in the in-between years. The years where some of the burden of the physical care of newborns has been lifted for mothers and fathers and in its place a  responsibility has been birthed for their family. The years where everything God has knit and tucked within each uniquely needed person is being discovered by those who have loved them since they were within the womb. The years where the layers of protection and guard like tender petals begin to unfold so wonder can blossom into wisdom and the understanding of pain and forgiveness and devotion and beauty can find root. These years of a tender sort of careful, balanced nurturing, these years before they, like mighty eagles, are nudged to soar in greatness. It was this that captured me this evening. And this is the beauty I saw.

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After school in the space of their home on a brilliant autumn afternoon.

Three years ago they invited me into their space, into the innocent and wonder and delight of young motherhood. You can see the session here.And while some call time a thief, for others, they make it their alchemist. Because since the years since I was with this family last, time has made house a home in a way that can only be called sacred. This is the space where tears are cried and feelings are hurt and all of humanity is hashed out. The space where stories are made and told, laughter is hearty and deep and with a look, all is known. See fifteen years ago it was just them, young and in love, choosing each other, promising always. And now in a blink, they are here, celebrating over homework, cheers-ing through soccer games. Here they are finding the treasure of romance made richer with the familiar. And thus, this is the art of what they have together made- after school, in the space of their home, on a brilliant autumn afternoon.

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The rich and vibrant Florida jungle as Lexi held her family.

Miles and states separate us.And yet somehow we've found each other. As wives and mothers and artists and owners, as women. Our hearts singing the same song. Sometimes of fullness, sometimes of exhaustion. Sometimes of doubt and sometimes of calling. But always trying with all we are, all we were created to be, to see beauty, serve with purpose and love with abandon. This is Lexi's vibrance under steel clouds in the rich Florida jungle and the family she does it all for.

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An ordinary morning of magic under warm sheets and rising sunlight.

They invited me in before sleepy eyes were even rubbed awake. But then the warm sheets they shared together grew cool as with the twinkling rising sun dancing yellow through their kitchen, the day unfolded its magic of noise, wonder and delight alike. The truest documentary art I've been privileged to make. This is a motherhood project from Allison Corrin Photography in Kansas City. I'd love to do it all again. And by love, I mean, my heart is aching for what is real. Because other mothers need to see the sheen of the flame of the fire they're so fiercely living in, shining through as gold.

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Morning traditions of donuts and the market and flowers.

It all started when there were newly three.And sleepy eyed and poured out she'd hand a milk crusted babe, warm from the dark hours of heart against heart snuggling to her reaching, eager papa. And then they'd set off, a daddy and his girl, greeting the day together in the sunshine, gifting mama just a few more minutes of rest for her day. They'd come back with fresh things, delight from the Kansas plains, but the thickness of aromas and songs of greetings from farmer faces more familiar every week quickly became the harvest most treasured. And so a rhythm of three has become a tradition for four as they all find their way together, the way they love and laugh and soak up life in the most rich ways. And these are image are made for them, for the mornings that have already become memories, and the joy of the days ahead. See sweet Nora Ann's newborn photographs here.And again as a babe here.

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On the steps and across the threshold and up the stairs and in the light of the home that held all of their firsts.

The yard where they chased their dog and greeted their neighbors and started their walks into the city. The steps they carried their boys up for the very first time, tenderly, cautiously, excitedly through the doorway into their home, into their together. This afternoon where one corralled a roly poly and another took more steps on his own than he ever has and they all played dinosaurs in an emptying bedroom all just before yet another night they opened their home to the stories and prayers of friends they are choosing to do life beside as family. They live life to the fullest. And their home has been the vessel for it all.

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Samuel, Abraham and Elijah, the fearless, tender and mighty band of brothers in the making.

"Life was made for good friends and great adventure."The first words of this story are penned with tumble, punctuated with ornery, written here with sparkling eyes and wonder touch. The protector and nurturer and his adventure wing man now made complete with the soul who will make his own mark, in his own way. Samuel, Abraham and Elijah, fearless, tender and mighty, a band of brothers in the making.

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