I got my good camera back from the shop the other day.
It was like welcoming an old friend back home again.
I immediately pulled it out of the box and ushered the kids outside for an impromptu photo shoot. They were thrilled…can’t you tell?
I’ve been in a funk these last few days. Sad. Discouraged. Frustrated at everything and nothing. Unsettled and just altogether irritable. This phase of life we’re in has left me vulnerable. Doubts start creeping in like the waters of the beach. They slide up and over my heart and then quickly retreat leaving me unsure of myself.
I doubt my ability to parent well.
I doubt my ability to pen anything worth reading.
I doubt my ability to love well.
I doubt my ability to exhibit grace.
So much doubt.
I know these are lies. I really do. I can see it and feel it and call it out by name. The frequency with which I’m having to identify and put behind me the lies, however, has begun to wear me down.
And I started to believe the doubts.
Do you know what happens when you start to believe the doubts? You compare. I’ve compared myself to everyone these past couple of weeks.
No good can come of that. I know this and I’m constantly fighting against it. Sometimes I just get battle weary.
So when I got my camera and took the time to slow down and observe life happening through the lens, I found myself suddenly encouraged.
I am not a great photographer. I know this very well.
But there is something about snapping a picture that fully encapsulates a brief moment in time.
It’s Grace. Grace. Remember how I told I’m learning about Grace? It’s a daily walk.
A sunset. A giggle. My toes buried in the cool sand.
A house awaits us. This week we will finally begin to set our stake in the sand. After two and a half months of transition, we will begin to start anew. Forward motion.
Our beach side transition is coming to a close. It has been a true blessing to be able to stay here. It hasn’t been easy…on anybody. My parents have given up their space and their peace and their privacy for two and a half months as well.
They’ve never complained. Never made us feel unwelcome or unwanted.
Thank you to all of you for supporting us and loving us.
For loving me.
Thank you for the emails and the phone calls. I’ve had communication from perfect strangers, from friends I haven’t spoken with in many years, from friends so dear to my heart that I sometimes physically ache for their presence.
Your love and support have carried us through the moments of funk – the moments of doubt when we questioned every decision, and every ability.
Thank you all, my friends both online and off, for showing that to me unfailingly. I am deeply, deeply grateful.