Daughters & Dance

I'm experiencing all the Mom emotions over here as I sort through these images and work through what exactly brings me to tears and what is making me jump for joy with my 4-year old daughter starting ballet. She begins classes tomorrow and this is the most excited I've ever seen her. 

When we bought the black leotard, pink tights, and ballet shoes, it first brought me back to MY ballet classes. I don't remember them super well, but I can see myself running through the large studio, practicing simple plies, and the first [and only] recital I did. I don't recall why I didn't want to continue with classes, other than maybe I was more into horses and was trying a LOT of different sports at the time. Reese right now, has it made up in her mind that she will be a dancer and perform on stage, and hey, maybe she will! 

Before taking these photos, I opened Spotify and put in "ballet music." Reese immediately began to twirl and spin and attempt her own versions of plies and grand jetés. She was so serious and yet having so much FUN all in one. 

I feel so much pride in her, and as her mom, am so excited to see how this helps her grow and change. At the same time, I see a little girl who IS going to struggle with failure, difficulties, and perhaps even have her feelings hurt within the sport. I know, I know, she's FOUR. The other little girls in her class will be so sweet and having so much fun, but as a woman who participated in sports, starting at very young ages, it's hard to accept the hurt that eventually, my baby WILL walk through. 

If you ever did sports, do you remember the times you felt insecure? Not good enough? Ashamed? I started volleyball in the fourth grade, and it wasn't too many years later that my uniform was skin tight miniature spandex shorts. In high school, I was a tanning bed babe, obsessed with getting golden brown for those fluorescent gym lights, and I was always insecure about my thighs touching. So yes, I realize that Reese is four. But it won't be too much longer before she's fourteen, and I know that insecurities and feelings of doubt begin MUCH before then.

I took these photos of my beautiful baby girl dancing and LOVING being in her ballerina outfit because I wanted to remember this moment. This season of life she is in, where she doesn't know where insecurities are, what shame looks or feels like, and while she believes she IS beautiful because she is. 

I so hope that I can instill in her courage, bravery, and the strength to put aside negative feelings and hurtful people. My high school insecurities didn't last forever, but they were still there, and those years weren't exactly easy. Maybe Reese will experience them, maybe she won't, and maybe I need to also pray that I am strong enough to guide her regardless. 

Reese Elisabeth-Morgan, OH how I love you! What a magical season of life you are in right now. I cannot wait to watch you dance and make new friends. You are a light and a bundle of strength and laughter. If you want to dance throughout your years, I will be so elated to watch you. Smile, always, because Daughter, you are radiant and you are so loved. 

PS: Yes, I know her strings need to be cut on her ballet shoes. I'm totally going to let her teacher help me tighten them and fit them accordingly. Also, here's a photo of me in my dance years, or should I say YEAR. Thanks, Mom for sending it! 

One Day at a Time: Goals for the Year Ahead

Last year's Reflection post [what I'm calling it anyway] covered a lot of things--how good 2016 was, how many blessings arose, and the ways in which God wowed my socks off. "Look at all the GOOD things God did in our lives this last year," I had written. "And yes, I'm saying this firmly to myself. All of those things do not mean that 2017 is going to go KERPLUNK. I don't need to have ANY answers right now, all I need to do is to take one day at a time. Starting Tuesday, in just two short days, I will literally be a stay at home mom and working from home. That's a HUGE dream turning into a reality!"

2016 consisted of a crap ton of hustle in order to fulfill that dream (staying home) and then guess what, 2017 was spent with me being home with our kids and really not working at ALL. I look back, however, and think that's just how God wanted it. I had dreamt of doing crafts and baking and going to parks with our Pierson and Reese before he started kindergarten. In order to do that, I photographed 8 weddings the year prior, took every paid partnership I could get my hands on, and basically booked every possible photo session. We saved every cent and I worked 6-7 days a week. I thank God OFTEN that the prayer was heard and answered and that for almost eight months (summer vacation included in that) I was "just" Mom.

It was a different kind of hustle and one that didn't exactly bring IN money. 

Thank the Lord for His provision, friends. Here were my questions walking into 2017: 

Will I be a good stay at home mom?
Will the kids like it? Will I like it? Will I be strong enough?
Will I be able to book a lot more weddings?
Will I be able to take this blog further? (What does that even mean?!)
Will I ever have another beautiful home NOT in our current neighborhood?
Will I ever live on land?
Will I have a horse?
Will I go back to teaching? Will I teach forever? Will we stay in Kentucky forever?

If you've followed along with me, many of you know how those questions panned out. I think back very fondly on my time home with the kids and being a 'stay at home mom.' The kids too have fun memories and tell me often that they loved reading Bible stories and doing crafts and learning about school. Some days I didn't LIKE it; [once I even threatened that I was going back to work if they didn't knock it off] or something super-rational and Mom of the Year statement worthy. But in hindsight, I loved it. 

I shot three weddings last year. All three blessed my socks off but one left me with a little sting and a little hurt; communication wasn't the greatest with that one and I walked away incredibly bummed that they didn't want me to blog their special day due to privacy. Lots of things learned though in that regard, and realized some tweaks I need to add to my photography business! 

We DID move to another beautiful home, NOT on land, but just one mile to my new favorite horse who I get to visit as often as I want. Well, not as often as I want because that would be 24/7 and ya know, mom life, work life, wife life and such... but still--HUGE blessing! 

I DID go back to teaching, and halfway through the school year here I am wondering, "What am I doing with my life?!" Ha! My heart is with my children, and though they are in school (kindergarten and full-time preschool), I just want to be here. As I type our son is spiking yet another fever. He had one for FIVE days the first week of December and missed five days of school! He just went back to school TODAY from Christmas break and I'm like, dude. All the stress of "whose turn is it to stay home?" and "great, this means Reese will be next." I miss last year when that was never an issue because I knew my husband would go to work and I'd be home anyway...

I wonder what's out there--if I WILL teach forever, or if God will expand my photography and blog tenfold. I think the next best step would be for me to somehow teach part-time and that's probably a more realistic goal; I'm just not sure if even that can happen? There's a lot of factors to consider: student loan debt, new house payment, if I get a horse this year [what?!?! Yes, that's the dream but hasn't it always been? Ha ha]. Benefits and health insurance. Retirement. Life in general because let's face it, extra spending money is WAY more fun... 

Let's go back to the new house though, can we? So many blessings have surrounded this home, and honestly, mostly thanks TO my photography and blogging business. (Being able to offer high-resolution images, blog posts, and other social media benefits for companies). I did a lot of research about what brands I wanted to work with, and the types of things we wanted here. We quickly learned that our style is more of an industrial/rustic/farmhouse one, and are having SO much fun designing rooms and spaces around that. It was SO fun working with Havertys Furniture to help us plan and furnish the living room--the main space where we bring people to gather (other than our giant dining room table). Definitely add that to 2017's TOP praise and to my favorite partnership list.

So, now what? 

Lord help, because I have no idea, Y'all. I felt as if last year God was telling me to BELIEVE, and there were a LOT of moments when I needed to be reminded of that. I mean I literally wrote a post called, "Are You There God? It's Me, Ashley," because I was struggling to believe he had this home destined for us. Within that, I said, "It's not that I'm suddenly denouncing God or walking away from my faith," I said. "I am just in a season of struggling to find hope." But ultimately I did believe because He continued to show His face through the pain and through the questions that I had. 

We are three days in and 2018 already has me wondering. 

Asa's car broke down on the way to his job yesterday, the first day back TO work after our break. I came home to dog poo in our bedroom for the umpteenth time because we have senior dogs and one of them in particular [ahem, Humphrey, ahem] has questionable intestines. Our cat Manny [my favorite] was let out (pretty much like normal) and then proceeded to be gone for like 15 hours in subzero temperatures. Me being super-rational, proclaimed him dead and gone on my way to work this morning, positive I would never see him again. *Side note/praise: our awesome neighbor went looking and together she and another neighbor noticed him on our back deck while we were at work. One of them proceeded to quietly enter our backyard, grab him, and she kept him safe in her house the entire day while we were at work.* Pierson is more than likely going to end up with another virus/bug this winter which all sorts of bums me out. I just want him to be WELL and to be able to enjoy kindergarten and not miss a million days! 

I seriously wrote this sentence last year: "But wait, Ashley. One day at a time."

And I think that's what I hear Him telling me again. 

One day at a time. My sweet friend Sarah recently told me, "2018 is going to be your year, Girl. I just know it." And for whatever reason, I feel more hopeful than not that it is. What's that mean? Psh, I don't know. But I think regardless it will be good. 

Instead of making to-do and checklists, here are a few things I want to work towards this year: 

-Experience more, worry less. 
-Be more intentional in every aspect: husband, kids, community
-Love our people, always. 
-More grace, less shame. 
-More strength, more rest, more joy. 
-More faith, less doubt. 
-And dream, always. 

Asking for a Miracle, Join Me Won't You?

The Energizer Bunny. 
Medical Miracle. 
Happiest Human Alive. 
Innocent. 
Survivor.
Truly Wonderful. 
Fighter. 
Overcomer. 

Above is a list of what I classify, "The Nathans." Not just any Nathan though, our Nathan. My oldest brother who just turned thirty-five on December 18; the man who wasn't 'supposed' to live much past the age of eighteen. Born with a severe blood disorder, later diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, this guy has seen it all. 

I'm the youngest in my family. Nathan is the oldest, and then there's Sean, who is the middle. Many of my earliest memories consist of me reading to Nate, playing cards, watching movies with him in his bed, and playing school with him. I have always loved him dearly and have been super protective of him. Once in middle school, I punched a boy in the chest because he referred to Nathan as my "other brother." I defended, bragged, prayed for, and loved my brother. Once though, I can remember running down our stairs yelling at my mom, "I WISH I WAS HANDICAPPED TOO!" [NOT my best moment as a daughter or sister.....] I just write that to show you it wasn't always sunshine and roses. As the youngest, there was a lot I didn't understand. How he required more attention for instance; I mean, I got it, but at the same time, I didn't get it. Not fully. I didn't understand his medical needs or list of allergies, I couldn't fully grasp what HIS life looked like, nor did I have a great respect for it in my adolescent years. And then I grew up. 

Throughout his ENTIRE life, Nathan has fought to live. And so far, he's overcome. He has beaten the odds so many times I can't even count. Blood disorder as a baby, countless seizures including a Grand Mal, acute liver fail with NO WAY TO LIVE but miraculously his liver regenerated and came back to complete normal function. His heart has stopped, he had total organ failure (which includes the kidney) in Toxic Mega Colon (doctors said 1% chance of survival with that one)...I mean seriously guys, he really has been through it all.

Every time that something has happened, I find myself asking God why. Why NATHAN, God? If anyone deserves goodness and happiness and peace, it is him. And then I stop to wonder, if I have always believed that everyone has sinned, do I believe that Nathan has? No, I suppose I don't. He doesn't understand what it is to be mean or have hate. He knows what those things look like though--Nathan went to school just as we did, and I'm sure he endured many uncomfortable stares and conversations. He has sat in hospital beds with doctors, nurses, and surgeons conversing with my parents, speaking and acting as if he is not even present. He's had many good medical staff by his bedside, don't get me wrong. And several amazing home helpers, but frankly and bluntly, not enough. Not enough whatsoever. 

People have given up on Nathan, walked out on Nathan, and refused to treat Nathan. But yet he doesn't give up. 

One of my favorite things about him is the way that he laughs. When Nathan laughs, you KNOW it is genuine. It is the most heartfelt, innocent, contagious sound that as I type, I wish I could hear. However, currently, my big brother is kicked back [insert sarcasm as I attempt not to cry] in yet another hospital bed, being poked and prodded, talked over and talked about. 

He has pneumonia, again [something he has fought MANY times], and really needs our prayers. My heart currently feels so emotional, so drained. It was December 21 when I hugged him, telling him we were headed back to Kentucky the next morning and we wouldn't see him then. He gave me a head hug, said, "Bye," then continued flipping on his laptop going through endless photos [one of his favorite past-times.] I've talked a lot about Nathan here, which is the sole purpose of this post, but I feel it's equally as important to fill you in a little on my parents and their role. 

My mom had Nathan when she was twenty-four years old. Her first born, her first baby. Her first son. She and my dad were only married for three months when she got pregnant, and I don't think she'd mind me telling you that she wasn't exactly excited [heck, would you be??] For the last thirty-five years though, she's devoted her entire life to caring for him. She fought so that he would have a good education, she made sure he walked down the aisle at his high school graduation, and she worked as his advocate, always. On top of that, she raised my brother Sean and I. She kept extensive baby books [my first tooth, all my report cards, handwritten notes and countless pictures] and she made gigantic scrapbooks for our high school graduations. I mean seriously, these things are so WELL done, you'd think she took classes or went to school for design. (She didn't.) When I had my two kids, she packed all the bags and got in the van with Nathan and my dad, I'm sure telling him to HURRY the entire six hours. She gave me endless back tickles, massaged my sore calfs when I entered the sports stage, helped fuel my passion for horses, never doubted me, and didn't bat an eye when I told her I was moving to Kentucky to pursue my dreams.

My mom is my superhero, there's just no other way to put it. 

Then there's my dad...the guy that I think can literally do and make ANYTHING. He is a master plumber and HVAC guy by trade, but he also helped build the house I grew up in from the ground up with the help of my grandfather. He can build anything, tile floors, repair leaks, and it always makes me laugh how good at math he is [I am TERRIBLE]. Most of my memories are that he worked, a lot, to keep a roof over our head and provide for our family. But he also found the time to take me to horseback riding lessons and shows and to leave me notes in my car that read, "Love you, Myrtle," with a $20 bill for gas money. I got in a pretty bad car wreck freshman year of college and totaled it; my first car, a silver Dodge Stratus. I was hellbent on having another Stratus, (why am I so weird??) and he and my mom found me a navy blue one. He drove it six hours to me in Louisville and took a 1-way flight back to Michigan the same day. My brother Sean and I are pretty concerned in that we don't think he'll ever actually be able to retire...my parents need to still pay off the home, and Nathan's medical bills are well, as you can imagine, pretty intense. My dad is sixty-four years old and when he comes home from a full day's work, he does his best to pitch in with Nathan. 

All of this to say that my Dad is one strong fellow. He is a quiet man, but his heart is big. 

At the end of the day, our family is kind of a miracle. Life wasn't easy, but I doubt that most of you can say that yours was either. And ultimately, I am praying for something positive, something profound, something miraculous--to happen for my mom, dad, and Nathan. I have a healthy and happy family in Louisville, Kentucky. Two kids, a boy, and a girl; my husband and I are full-time teachers, I'm of course a professional photographer and blogger. My brother Sean and his wife [who was his high school sweetheart!] have been married for nine years and live a successful and happy life in Nashville. We don't need too many more blessings, but Nathan does. 

Whether you're a Believer or not, please just offer up prayers for him tonight, and continuously since you've now read this post and know his story. He needs another miracle to overcome the odds, to beat the hospital bed, and to make it home safely [and in good health] once again. Scroll through these few photos below to see how loved (and wonderful!) he is. 

Why a Beautiful Home Isn't Nonsense

As I've gotten older I have realized that my need for 'stuff' has diminished quite a bit. At one point I wanted brand new wardrobes for each season, and then I quickly discovered that my clothes color pallet exists in this order: greys, earth tones, and more grey. The comfier the outfit the better; give me all the joggers, giant wool cardigans, and an abundance of fuzzy socks and I am GOLDEN. My husband jokes with me that before we were married I would say, "Beauty is pain," (WHO made up that quote?!) and now I fully admit that I actually believe beauty is COMFORT. 

I once had a friend though, that made me feel so terrible about the fact that I wanted to have things. That and drying or straightening my hair/wearing makeup, she called me 'high maintenance.' The literal definition of that adjective is 'needing a lot of work to keep in good condition.' Demanding, challenging, difficult, hard to please--all synonyms of high maintenance. I remember asking Asa, "Am I high maintenance because I want to do my hair before photos?" and he'd say, "No, there is nothing wrong with wanting that." I would talk to her about my desire to have a big beautiful house, two stories, and in it, beautiful things. She would remind me that she didn't 'need' anything; if it were up to her, she'd live in a tiny house and have the bare minimum within it. There was nothing wrong with her desires. But there was largely something wrong with the way I felt most times after hanging out with her.

Over the years and having lots of space between us, I have grown up quite a bit (thank you, Jesus). There isn't anything wrong with me wanting to do my hair, or putting on makeup. It doesn't make me less of a free woman that I often do those two things. My husband and I started our lives in a dirty, one bedroom, dark apartment. Our second wasn't much of an upgrade, but definitely brighter and better than the first. Our first home was beautiful; a restored 1900 bungalow with character that spoke to every person who walked in the front entry. While we searched for the newest home that we are currently it, we both agreed that it needed to LOOK nice. We thought we wanted a fixer-upper, but we didn't. We wanted open, bright, with lots of natural light, and it had to be two stories [my request.] We yearned for a place to host, to gather our people--friends and family that would eat around our table and laugh by the fireplace. 

I recently started Jen Hatmaker's newest book 'Of Mess and Moxie,' and friends, within it she spoke my heart. I often wondered how to put into words what I felt about owning beautiful things or having a gorgeous house, and by golly, she wrote them. 

"Dear one, may I say something? It is not shallow or empty or frivolous to create a beautiful space to live in. It's not silly, not vainglorious, not a waste of time and energy. It doesn't make you superficial nor slides you down the godly scale. We spend the majority of our hours in our homes with our people. Creating beauty and nurture under your roof with colors that soothe, art that inspires, furniture that invites, and textures that thrill is a wonderful use of your small space on the planet" (67). 

If where you want to live is in a high rise in the city, by all means, live that dream. And if your heart longs and loves large and open spaces, sister, you do YOU. We shouldn't make each other feel bad when the desire in our hearts is joy and happiness. We shouldn't label our friends by what they wear or don't wear, eat or don't eat. Jen also says this, which duh, I love: 

"Home is the scene of so much love and happiness, community and pot roasts. It is where you invite people in and say, 'You are so welcome in this place.' It is the reel our children will replay in memory of the leather chair you read in, the farmhouse table you shared, the braided rug where you played eleventy-billion games of Chutes and Ladders. It is your little corner of the earth, entirely. YOURS to make lovely. In a world increasingly dominated by fear and violence and isolation and loneliness, you can claim restoration under your roof, where people are nurtured and loved and fed and embraced, where God reigns and hope is spoken..." (70)

I love that Jesus has intertwined mine and Asa's hearts in that we both love people and more than that, we love gathering with them. I don't like to cook, but he does! And I find joy in cleaning, dusting, and rearranging things like candles and flowers. We love having a beautiful home that has TONS of light, inviting furniture [seriously, thank you Havertys], and there's no shame in the fact that I think white walls are calming. More significantly than the beauty that exists here, Jen was so right when she talks about nourishing and caring for our little ones here. My number one job is to love and serve my husband but ALSO to train up my children to follow and serve the Lord. "Making your home pretty is nice," she writes, "but making it nourishing is holy" (70).

I don't want you to think for a minute though, that the home we chose is perfect or that it has to BE perfect to be beautiful. I actually often talk in the future tense, "In our next home I want to do this differently or add this or change this," because I don't believe this is our forever home. I still long for acreage and horses surrounding the greenery around me, but my heart is happy here, for now. I actually have a gorgeous blue velvet couch that I only once dreamt about. I have a matching console and cocktail table. I have an eight-foot farmhouse table where a TON of people gathered for Thanksgiving. And I LOVE that Jen Hatmaker mentioned how God created the wildflowers and waterfalls and pine trees and hummingbirds and warm sand and mountain ranges and tulips; because He very clearly doesn't think that beauty is nonsense (67). "If God decided to make his whole earth pretty, we can choose to make our little homes pretty without tension, guilt, or shame." For us, we choose beauty to bring people to gather. Our home isn't huge, but it's open and our table is large. 

May we never forget our dream of hosting and creating, regardless of where we end up next. (Please be on land, please be on land, please be on land!) And may YOU believe that where you are and what you dream about is beautiful too. 

*Please don't allow anyone else's negative comments or shaming hurt you. You were created with visions and dreams, passions and talents. It's an ongoing battle that I continue to go forward with comments that have hurt me, but time has been a healing agent and I just want you to know that YOU are wonderful!!!*