[seven]


His favorite time in the entire day is bath time. It's like he has never had one, each time being a new exhilarating experience. He squeals and splashes, sometimes choking on water. Other times he simultaneously clenches his fists and shows his big gummy smile all the while looking like he could explode with happiness.

My favorite time of the day with him is when he wakes up from naps. When we open the door and say, "Hello Sweetie Boy!" he looks up at us, smiles, then bashfully burrows his face in his mattress. He makes me feel oh so special, that boy.

I never want to forget you at seven months, sweet boy.

I will never forget how you can sit up and chew on random objects for hours. How you put your hands on both sides of my face while you are eating. How you belly laugh when your dad gives you sloppy kisses on your bare tummy. How you squeal at the top of your lungs when something excites you. I'll remember dying laughing while seeing you react to new foods. I'll remember your long body starting to get those yummy chunky rolls. I'll remember you squirming so much in my arms, showing your independence. I'll remember how I feel dropping you off at the nursery: almost sad that you don't cry when I leave anymore. I'll remember your fascination with the trees, with other little children, with a simple breeze on your face. I love discovering the world in a new way with you.

You wear us out, little Pax, but oh you fill us up to overflowing. You have brought a new purpose into our lives, a new joy we never knew existed. You have challenged us individually, challenged our marriage, challenged just about every area of our lives.

In a nutshell, you have brought us a taste of heaven on earth. God is good.

[hope]

Change is good. Change is good. Change is good. Or so the saying goes. I think we hear all the time that change is necessary, challenging, healthy... but that it may not always be easy. And yet the "may not always be easy" part seems to be quickly followed by a, "but it will all work out," as if you can't just stop to let it wash over you.
Change is hard sometimes. Period.

 3 weeks ago my love and I packed up our bags and bid New England and the Patriots goodbye. I'll have to write more about that incredible experience on another post, but needless to say we came back to Nashville, our families, and sweet Southern comfort.

But that change didn't feel so good at first. It hurt... it stung, and though our memories already seem like a vision of the past, it still hurts. It's for the better, we know it full well. It's in God's perfect, abundant plan for us.

"The Lord gives and He takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."
(spoken from a man who lost everything... literally every.single.thing. How's that for perspective?)
Job 1:21

Ben and I are discovering each other in a new, amazing way through this changing process. We are literally growing up together, and I am so thankful. What's amazing to think about is how God created all of us in our entirety-our happy natures, our defiant attitudes,  and our grief-stricken emotions as well.  I suppose that's why it feels so good to let yourself just be sad, to let yourself weep, or to dance around the house like a crazy person. He created it all and it brings Him glory. There is freedom in change, freedom in grief, freedom in new beginnings. I think we will look back on this time as one of the most beautiful seasons of our hearts. What isn't amazing about that?

"Oh Great Light of the World, fill up my soul."

...

[bragging rights]

I have two of the most precious gifts in my older sisters. They have given me such a sense of perspective and truly helped shape who I am. Their wisdom and gentle guidance has blessed me through and through. They are my heroes, my guides, my helpers, conspirators, and allies. And since Ben and I have been in Nashville, life is so much sweeter being in the same city as them. 

I won't go into detail about Pax's birth story, but I will say one of the most special memories I have of that day was having both my sisters with me when he was born. Being the "go-with-the-flow" individuals we are, I'll admit Ben and I didn't have a "birth plan" and found it so hard to envision what that day would be like before it came. But I did know I wanted my mom and sisters to be a part of it if they wanted to. Since Kristen Faith had already been through the birthing experience twice (making it look easy I might add), she graciously accepted. Rachel, on the other hand, was hesitant at first and with good reason. But she came and brought along her most important accessory as well: her camera. 

On Rachel: I am oh so envious of her at times. Creativity oozes from her, heart and soul. Growing up fairly close in age it sometimes felt like she was my most formidable opponent, and one that constantly outshone me a hundred fold in our artistic endeavors. Whether it was coloring in a coloring book, doing science projects, or taking pictures, she was just always better! And for that I now give God glory. She was born an artist and she can't help but be good at it, it is a continuation of her personality and being.

I am so thankful God has given her this gift of photography. A gift that has turned into a calling. Several years ago she quit a wonderful job with an incredible salary to pursue her dream of being a photographer. She enriches our lives with her photographs and captures precious moments in time that could never be recaptured otherwise. I'll brag on my family all day long, and Rachel is no exception.

Her work speaks for itself, and here is just a sampling of that wonderful day, February 16. And further below, a sample of Pax's newborn photos. To view even more of her work it can be found here.


"Unlike any other visual image, a photography is not a rendering, an imitation or an interpretation of its subject, but actually a trace of it. No painting or drawing, however naturalistic, belongs to its subject in the way a photograph does." 
-John Berge

...

-sarah