Anniversaries are usually a reminder of good things, and life changing events. The older I get the more bittersweet anniversaries I seem to accumulate. This fall marked one year since my sister-in-law Aimee was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. The memory of the shock of this news is still raw. I remember sweet Sophia looking large eyed after the phone call, "Does mommy have cancer?" I was not ready.
I took photos of them one week later and it still felt like a distant dream that we would wake from. The fear and uncertainty were unwanted new companions. A year later there is still some fear and uncertainty but with that, reflection over the last year that have been filled with people who have not been afraid to come close to the heartache and enter into the deep waters with them. Isn't that like our Jesus, who meets us in the miry pit? He never distances himself from the hardest, messiest, sickest and poorest among us. God has been faithful in His comfort, hope and leading. He has not left them. There is a clarity and softening that happens to us when trials make us poor in spirit. The cracks and brokenness leave us maybe just a little more pliable and vulnerable to letting our maker do what He wants in us. It is a beautiful thing to behold the outpouring of meals, funds, encouragement and genuine love for them. After many closed doors they will leave their kids with family and head to Germany to receive treatment after being denied coverage for treatment here. Will you pray with me for Aimee's complete healing? Will you pray with me for miracles beyond what we can imagine? That God will go before, with and behind them in all things during their time in Germany. To read more of Aimee's heart you can find her story here: http://pressedwine.prayersforaimee.com/
If you feel led to join the campaign to help financially with the burden of her care and treatment you can do so here: https://www.crowdrise.com/rileys-2016?utm_donation=b6b28d582dc2f40a6054d65674281&utm_platform=fb&utm_device=desktop&utm_source=donate-modal-cr
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I have known this lovely young lady since she was one and I was her nanny. We spent many days reading books, baking and playing together so she has a special place in my heart. She is all grown up and has the voice of an angel. I'm excited to see where the Lord will lead her this year.
This is one of my favorite photo sessions I have ever done. It is partly because I love each of the people in these pictures. That is my younger brother and his family. His wife, Aimee, is one of my dearest friends and kindred spirits. When I look at these images, I see so much love between them. Their deep connection with each other is clear. In the span of 40 minutes there was play, kissed boo-boos, tears, hugs and so much laughter. Everything you'd expect in families with small children.
What you can't see in these pictures is that Aimee got a phone call last week that will change her life, a call that included the word cancer. When I heard the news I couldn't breathe. We are all reeling. How does one keep trudging through their day with devastating news like this?
We had one beautiful night in a week thick with grey skies and rain. This evening was just a week after finding out. I am reminded that the disease inside her can not touch her spirit, the love they have or all the things that make her truly beautiful. So far, it has only made her more so, in her brokenness yet resolute faith in the One who made her. The words from her lips are praise even as she is facing this storm. Looking down a road of suffering her eyes are fixed even more on our God who makes all things new. She is not without hope. She is not abandoned. Her words calm my disquieted heart. "He is making me bread that is broken, pressed like wine, for His glory."
Will you join me in praying for healing and strength?
"You alone are the LORD. You have made the heavens, The heaven of heavens with all their host, The earth and all that is on it, The seas and all that is in them. You give life to all of them And the heavenly host bows down before You." ~Nehemiah 9:6
This is the God we serve, a God of power and might. A God who tells the sun to rise each morning and keeps the planets spinning in orbit. He's a God who knows our lying down and our rising up. He is the same Jesus that was filled with compassion for the afflicted, sick and blind, the same one whose heart was to heal. We can lay our questions, rage, lamentation and fear at His feet. He is a good Father who hears and knows our needs.
Here is another way to help their family: <a href="https://www.crowdrise.com/supporttherileys">https://www.crowdrise.com/supporttherileys</a>
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I remember those days well, of body and heart being full waiting for new life. There is something so mysterious and beautiful about how a woman's body holds her child. These were a few of my favorite shots of this sweet family, days away from meeting their little girl.
His whimsy is leaning just a little more toward contemplation. He is soft faced with tiny muscled arms. I can see his brow furrowed with curiosity and his heart growing with ideas and with love. His days are a swirl of nose in books, magic libraries, comic drawing, bow and arrows, bikes and tearing around the neighborhood with friends. Always wanting to be shirtless and bare footed to feel the air and the dirt beneath him, this wiry boy of mine. He is not too old to rest his head on me early in the morning and his hand matches mine now, when palm to palm. He is an adventurer and a lover of Jesus. He will still always ask for one more chapter. I watch him, this first son of my heart and I could burst with love for his wild and tender spirit. It is deep joy to know him and to watch him become.
My niece Meadow and I braved the sprinkling rain and fog to have some photo fun together. At the last minute we decided to have her don her grandmother's wedding dress. The woods smelled of wet leaves. The mountain was lush, fragrant and a little bit haunting, blanketed in mist. I couldn't help thinking about all that this dress represented. It was June 1970 when my mother wore this gown and said "I do," setting in motion so many lives and so many stories. I look at her young face and know I am not far off from having daughters her age. I look at the yellowing lace reminding me that she is part of something so much bigger. She is God's daughter and woven into our family tree with roots that are long and gnarled, like those that we are walking over. We are part of where we have come from, so much love, struggle, sorrow and promise. We are born of love and carried on the whispered prayers of our grandmothers, and great grandmothers. They were brave immigrants, women who knew wars and loss and music and laughter. Each carrying pieces of the previous generation of mothers, teachers, musicians, dreamers... lives full of so much hope, so much promise. Lord, that we would give our daughters roots and wings.
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I love stories and pictures that help tell them.
