Strawberry Fields

This mornings shoot was too cute for words. Nothing makes like sweeter than a couple of babes in a bucket of strawberries <3 I'm beginning to wonder how much longer Bernie and I can hold on until we make a little munchkin ourselves. I'm betting 2 years, tops. 




Moving pieces

times passing and the world keeps on moving and people look up at the commotion



for a moment, and return peacefully to their lives 


but every child ripped away hasnt one moment of peace at all. And I’m sitting here wondering what I ever did to have this life. 


And it’s nothing  


nothing I did or sacrificed, and I get to sit here and watch for moments and return to my peaceful life that I never earned  



so I lift up my voice in the silence of the room and

ask god to bring beauty from ash

find diamonds in trash  

To make rain in the dessert and spark life in the fire 

Restore faith in the nation we all once admired  

breathe life in the mother whose heart has been broken

remind her Your word brings life when its spoken.  

Let all of the children know that you’re near, That your plans are to prosper them- even here. 






Sundays are for the dogs

 -and Christ, celebrating His glory and the beautiful life he’s given us 

-and the family 

-the fresh cut watermelon at mom and dads after the most delicious steak dinner from mom, whose teaching me her cooking creations 

-the never ending laughing fits between my sisters and I  

 -bubble baths with my husband in our beautiful home after taking our babies to the park to play 

 - seasoning and setting the chicken to cook for the chicken tortilla soup you’ll enjoy tomorrow 

 -facemasks that make you look like a suspect in a crime movie while it’s on, but leave you feeling cozy and clean once it’s off 

Sunday seems to be the day of the week where the veil is lifted and I can see with clarity what I wonderful life I lead, all because of the coolest God who led me here. 


Frame it up

you are young 

and creative 

and eager to soar  


Lead yourself better

Lull the internal war   


It’s thursday

buckle up, she’s riding back seat while the boys go out and play


nothing new or any different 

since our promises in May 


Keep her at a distance when you’re closer to the day

What’s the treasure of a marriage if you drink it all away? 



47 Days

Aint it funky how you can speak about something for so long, know it as fact, prepare, plan, and understand it- and still be in awe that its happening? 


We've been talking about this day since we were 16 years old, dreaming it, speaking it, breathing it into existence. And still, still I feel like it surreal. 

I get to spend the rest of my days with 100% certainty that the incredible love and absolute adoration I have is reciprocated.


I am blessed with giving and receiving something so pure, so real, so familiar to our story- over and over again. 


I am allowed the opportunity to use this powerful tool called love. And with this tool, we can create a life bursting with blessings, the biggest of these blessings of course, our children. 

I am gifted with the honor of becoming a mother alongside my partner. As our story is written, and we familiarize ourselves with the characters of husband and wife,  we have the opportunity to recreate ourselves, to fall deeper in love, to make love, and then life, and elevate our storyline script names to Mom and Dad.


And to this day, I know no greater calling or purpose to look forward to than to have and to hold my babies as my love will have and hold me. 


Love is so strong, so cyclical, so dynamic. And I thank God for it. 



Year of Yes

Yes to anything and everything. Yes you can,Yes you did and yes He is. 
1 leg gone but somehow there’s more to love.


I remember.

At the Smorgusburg in Brooklyn, I came across a stand where a man sold metal work that you could choose from and on the spot he could hammer in any lettering you'd like.

I remember coming across a tiny tie clip

I remember thinking about Bernie all dressed up. With his slacks in a crisp white shirt and a skinny tie to match . I remember looking at the clip and picturing Bernie in front of the mirror, combing back his dark hair, clamping on his watch, and reaching for this clip. 

I remember thinking how handsome he looked with his dress clothes on. 

I remember the sinking feeling, such a familiar feeling, because 

I couldn't remember the last night I spent out with him where we both made ourselves up and reveled in each other. 

& so I picked up the tiny tie clip, and handed it to the metalworker. 


I remember missing you and thinking, One day I won't have to. 




It sounds like a small hum. 


And I suppose it's that kind of whisper where you have to stop what you're in the middle of and look up- keep your stance, figure out which direction it's coming from. 


Then you get back to what you were doing until it hums a little louder, closer. 




Stress is like a hum. 


But you know,  I've always been able to carry a tune. 


Your Glory

to yours, for yours. 


my mind spins while I try to picture your magnitude, your depth, your ability to bring beauty from ashes. 


and it mirrors the way it felt when i was a girl, and i spun and spun


submerged in the rush + in awe of a feeling i can't put words to.


i'm learning how gracious you are, how grand your plans are for me and mine, and i want to know you more.

this life is incredible, and i want to live it all for You

A Home

From one total unmerited, undeserved favor to the next he carries us. Under the Almighty's arm, he pins us closely to his heart and conceals us- through our quivering. 


From grace to grace, our life is unfolding before our eyes- so rapidly and beautifully. It's blossoming, blooming, springing up so quickly that I don't even know where to look or what to capture. 

Building a home, with the love of my life, in the city that I cherish, under the grace of a God who has more (and more and more and then, even more) in store for this incredible life.


Glorious anticipation, that's what I feel. 

My Calling

That thing that keeps you up at night. That question. That unfamiliarity.


Too many nights I've spent looking up at the ceiling wondering exactly- precisely- intensely- WHAT IS MY CALLING?


Well guess what, I know it now. And I feel it in my bones, like a whisper almost.

That still, small voice seems to speak louder than booms, it's fascinating.  And so yes, now I know, and I feel it in my heart. 

  Funny thing is.. 

It's not all about the call. It's not all about the call at all. 

Cause what's the sense in someone calling you, if you never respond? 

Stay with me here- 

The idea that Jesus knew his calling from the beginning was not what saved us- It was his response to the calling on his life.

He accepted what so many of us have rejected- “not my will, but thy will be done.”

His sacrifice.
His submission to hell for our admission into heaven. His body broken on the cross, his last words spoken not from loss- but from victory. That it is finished. 
We are no longer bruised from our past, tied to our inequities or nailed to our shortcomings because
The Great I Am found it fitting to be bruised for our past, present, and future sins- the perfector of our faith found himself tied to a calling where the weight of our inequities rested squarely on his back. And while being nailed to a cross for you and I, our shortcomings were covered by His sufficiency. 

He answered his call. And because of it, no one will ever be the same. This was destiny in the making, purpose for the taking. And you know what?

Im gonna answer too.