When Hannah was born, we didn’t have enough money to take her to have pictures made. So…I decided I’d just have to learn how to take good pictures. I sat down in Borders and read a book about how to take pictures hoping that I could capture the beauty of this little lady before me. And I fell in love. (even though I still have some highly awkward photos of her from when I was still in the throes of learning the basics)
My gracious in-laws surprised me with a great digital camera. At that time I overwhelmed our hard-drive (and my poor child) with photos of our lives. I started to get better. And I started to love photography more and more.
Secretly, I longed for a DSLR camera. But I made fun of myself and thought I was looking to one more possession to make me happy when it wouldn’t. (Yep, I went for a Christian guilt-trip) So I stuffed it. And realized there was no reason for me to have that nice of a camera when I was just taking pics of our family.
But I wanted to learn. I even looked into jobs at photography studios because I wanted so desperately to learn and to capture the beauty of the moments around me. But I kept it all a secret. Besides – we could NEVER afford it at that time.
Then we had Jayden. Yet another ridiculously gorgeous child was sitting in front of me on a daily basis begging for his beautiful mug to be captured and remembered forever. And so I kept taking pictures and researching how to get better.
Cue my amazing husband. Yep – the guy that believes in me when he has no reason to. The guy that watches and somehow finds the most unexpected and inspiring gift he could possibly give you – even if the cost is beyond what you could afford. For my birthday, I was greeted by a large-esque purple Dora-the-Explorer gift bag (hand-picked by my little lady) that contained a DSLR camera. And then cue my tears. And devotion. I started photographing like it was going out of style. I took so many pictures that I single-handedly caused iPhoto to raise a flag of surrender.
On the fourth of July, I sat nestled under my cream-colored, snuggly, plush blanket with my journal of early-morning conversations with God sprawled in front of me complete with my soy chai in hand. And at that moment I knew – I want to be a wedding and family photographer.
I giggled…like a giddy, slap-happy three year old girl. (And I know this is a fitting description because I live with one of these) And then I laughed out loud. Because seriously – how on earth was that supposed to happen? And how was I ever going to get the camera that I needed? I mean, we had been living paycheck to paycheck until this year when Ted changed jobs and we had finally gotten out of debt.
But deep within my soul I knew. And I loved it. I would have the chance to capture memories and stories in such a vivid way? I was in awe that God would let me do something so beautiful, so sacred. And so I made it my mission to learn everything I possibly could. And to enjoy the ride.
Here's a pic of an adorable little man. There will be more to come soon. But his facial expressions make me far too happy and I thought I'd throw it in...
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1 comment:
These pics look like he was photographed at some hot-shot studio by a veteran photographer! Girl you are good!
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