letters to isaiah.



isaiah-


my dearest baby boy, tomorrow you will turn one. so bittersweet. you have lived along side of us for a whole year, you are our family. it has been my greatest pleasure and privilege to watch you grow. i have had the joy of relearning what i take for granted and looking upon the world with fresh eyes. never have i been so strong spiritually as i have over this last year, marveling over your creation, your appearance, your growth even before birth. it has been awesome to experience so intensely such evidence of Christ's sovereignty and mastery. i cherish my time with you and all the happiness you bring. all your slobbery kisses and pats with grubby hands. your toothy smiles and baby breath. i even miss you when you go to bed for the night, checking in on you enough times that i have accidentally woke you. meeting you was one of the most powerful and beautiful moments of my life. i remember thinking i could not ever possibly love you more. and yet, i do. everyday. even more now than when i started this letter. i count myself blessed that God chose me, created me to be your mother. at times, i have failed you over this last year, and i'm sure i will again over the next. but i love you desperately. you came into this world so fragile, so small. and rapidly you have gotten so much bigger, so independent for such a little boy. my heart continually swells and overflows: first a smile, then a laugh, then a roll, then a crawl, and now you are walking with large strides. almost running. on your way to becoming a man i am already so proud of. dear boy, you shine. you are not perfect, but then again who is. what you are, however, is a gift, a spark...a life created with care and intention. even at one year old, i am starting to get glimpses into who you are becoming. you are so serious at times, so inquisitive. you are bashful in certain situations and downright silly before bed time. it's my favorite time. you love to wander and explore. you're not affraid to be alone. you're fascinated by doors. you're stubborn and persistent. half the time you cry when scolded and the other half, you laugh. you're clever and quick. you're sweet but with a temper. you've been a glorious challenge and an unmatched reward. one day you will read this letter, perhaps some time from now, but you might not fully understand it for quite awhile. but i pray one day you'll have your own family, and it will all make perfect sense. what i want you to know is this: this life happens too quickly. don't waste it. i pray that you will love wrecklessly and chase Jesus with all your heart. that you are tough and tender. that you are gentle, a listener. stay simple and wide eyed. be humble and forgiving. laugh often, but take care not to be foolish. fight for the Truth. my son, i love you so greatly. please remember love at such a magnitude is only possible through Christ. isaiah, happy first birthday to you. i will love you always. always.
 
 
so very,
momma

playing catch up.

remember me?

i'm back in this space.

i've missed writing it all, narrating my day to day.

with everything going on, this place has been neglected.

& i felt a sense if pressure about it all.

before i get back into the current,

i thought i'd play a little game of catch up.

photos of my preceeding life.

winter came and went.

and came and went.

overstayed her welcome, really.

she's a temperamental beauty:

valentine's day showed up

in a handmade kind of way.

my heart well is continuously overflowing:

(necklace by HouseThatCrowBuilt)

  

 my little one learned to sleep like this:

(i love that tushy!)

i moved my smithing studio into my dad's glass space

(& i sold my first piece).

i've been practicing and expanding horizons.

the future is full of possibility.

but more on that later: 

as of a month or so ago,

i now not only photograph with my husband,

but i have started working with him in the office as well.

it's good for me:

we've been getting acclimated to our new home

on the family farm.

or should i say, reacclimated since it was

my childhood home.

doesn't that sound romantic?

practically speaking, it's been fantastic for our finances,

as well as a great excuse

 to purge & consolidate.

it's an unbeatable walk to my momma's house.

it smells earthy and is downright iridescent.

plus, you can't beat the nightsong:

there's been some change,

some growth,

expansion.

family.

friends.

art.

life.

projects:

                                   

and then there's this little man.

my heart beat.

he's approaching six months.

time flies, they say.

sai.

sigh.

he's getting so big: 

 and then spring came like a festival.

sunshine for my marrow:

what have you been up to?

fly,

so, i don't typically do "wordless wednesday" posts, but, if i did...it'd be this.

bahaha...wait, does laughing count?

hmmm...

oh my stars.

(isaiah christian, 15 weeks)

i'm in love!

 ...with a short, pudgy bald(ish) little man.

and boy, oh boy, am i!?

:)

*side note: i tried to actually put this up when it happened...ummm, weeks ago...
but it didn't work. tonight it did. better late than never? why, yes, i think so.

life is in the details.

it seems i don't write much anymore.

i have a lot to say,

but i'm still speechless.

fly,

sb

oh my heart.

oh my.

i love that smile.

:) !!!

the papoose as a pumpkin.

that's right.

he's the papoose.

we just started calling him that when we brought him home

and got him all nicely swaddled.

actually, paul did.

i had to look up the definition.

but, it turns out, it's a fun word to say.

and fun to rhyme with.

(my husband and i frequently break out into song.

we think our life is a musical.)

so, papoose stuck.

anywhosers.

he's the papoose.

and he's little man.

he's also baby cakes,

cub

and

stinky pete.

but...

he was also a pumpkin head for a day.

;)

and just like that...

he is here.

Isaiah Christian // 10.11.10 // 1:04PM // 7lbs 8oz // 21 inches

now this is love.