Give

Posted on by Lauren

Gray stone surrounded the window pane I peeked through, as I noticed their breath that December night. 

At nine years old, I was a greeter; welcoming the homeless into our old church.

The line was long and I knew the inevitable was upon us; the moment we had to shut the door, ending the promise of a warm meal and pew.  

It broke my heart. 

I was introduced to a life of service at a very young age. 

My grandparents always brought me along to help serve “Meals on Wheels”, delivering hot meals to the elderly all over town.

I felt proud, knocking on the door and helping place the tray, all while noting my surroundings. 

We didn’t have a lot, I thought, but we had more than this. 

My parents always provided to those in need, even when it meant they went months without paychecks to provide for their small-business employees.

It was instilled in me that there were always those who had a greater need than our own.

At 17, I served in two orphanages for a month in Ghana.  

I’ve never forgotten it. 

The moment we shut the door. The moment I left and they stayed.

As we enter this season of giving,

I remember. 

I open my heart.

And I give. 

Sums

Posted on by Lauren

“You don’t know what it’s like to be ME!” she cries.  

No, my darling. 

Not one of us knows what it is like to be you.

Or to be anyone else for that matter. 

And I think, 

That about sums it up. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Lead

Posted on by Lauren

“Let me lead.” I plead. 

Do you trust me?  Then, let me lead.

Faith over fear. 

We’re in this together. I explain to her. 

It’s not me against you. 

Instead, me with you. 

I walk alongside you, child. 

I witness your growth, next to you. 

Encouraging you. Believing in you. Cheering you on. 

Not against you. With you.  

Arms linked, we march towards your bright future. 

Until I let go. And you lead. 

I trust you. 

Faith over fear. 

You lead. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Thankless

Posted on by Lauren

Y’all. They cute but let’s be real. 

This is the most thankless job I’ve ever signed up for. 

I guess this is what the mid-life crisis is? When you’re too far to turn around and make a different choice?

I was almost a screenwriter. An actress. Famous.

Instead, I’m a mom. A coach. A teacher. A writer. 

Oh, wait. 

My life isn’t over just because I chose differently.

It’s different, yes. Richer, yes. Harder, yes. 

But I’m not done.  

I’m just getting started. 

This is the most thankless job I’ve ever signed up for. 

But I’ll be damned if I don’t embrace the choice I made and inspire children to follow their own dreams.  

Let’s be real. 

They cute, ya’ll. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Ballers

Posted on by Lauren

“Unfair!” “Bad call!”  “These refs are the worst.”

All sentiments I heard from my players last basketball season.

Victims.

At our last practice, I gave each girl a flashlight. 

“Ultimately, you choose what you shine your light on.  Are you going to shine it on what is out of your control?  Unfair players and referees?  Offensive injuries?  Or, instead, are you going to shine your light on what you CAN do.  Are you going to see the possibility?”

In the heat of the moment, the lesson remains true: Focus on what you alone can control.

This same principle applies to my daughters with nightmares. 

Can we control the terrible thoughts that enter our heads?  Not always.

But can we allow them to pass by us like a moving thundercloud without allowing them to rain on our parade?  Yes. 

We can choose to shine our light, our thoughts on something that brings us joy. 

A recent trip to the beach, the taste of ice cream, a memory of snow. The possibility.

No, we cannot control that which offends our personal space. 

But we surely can control how we respond to it.  

It’s our light. 

And we choose where it shines. 

Ballers.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Story

Posted on by Lauren

I try. 

I keep trying to see that little face amongst the venom that spews from her mouth. 

But she’s not my little girl anymore. 

No, she is her own. 

And boy, does she have a lot to say. 

How do I tell her?

How can she know, I am the mother I never had?

Oh, but wait. 

This is her story, not mine. 

I was 30 hours into labor when my midwife dropped that truth bomb on me. 

“This is not your story, Lauren. It’s hers.”

Good God. 

Nice to know, now. 

I gave birth to a new human.  

Not a continuation. 

Instead, our contribution.  

We try. 

We listen. 

We recognize. 

She has a lot to say. 

This is her story. 

Not ours. 

Nice to know. 

Always. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Love is Love

Posted on by Lauren

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The Great Facade

Posted on by Lauren

“It’s ok to feel your feelings.” I whispered into her ear as she sobbed.

She’s been so angry lately. 

But I knew better. 

This had nothing to do with who she is

And everything to do with what she felt. 

She was lost and anger was the easiest path.  

Let’s be real. 

It’s easier to be angry than it is to admit you’re vulnerable and wounded. 

The Great Facade.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Smoke

Posted on by Lauren

“God-or whoever is in charge of this planet- got drunk on the job one day and decided to give me the gift of writing. The way I see it, I have two choices. I can set that gift high on a shelf so it won’t get dinged up and nobody can make fun of me for playing with it.” He smiled until the crinkles at the corner of his eyes were deep enough to hide state secrets.  “Or, I can have fun with it and play with the gift I was given until the engine burns out and the wheels come off. I decided to play. I suggest you do the same, young man.  Go paint or draw or collage or whatever you want to do.  Come back when there’s smoke coming off the canvas. And for God’s sake, go have some fun. Please?” – Shaffer, 2023 P. 78

I am so. Damn. Proud. Of myself.  

I have written, since I could. 

Diaries with useless locks and keys.  

Journals considered my closest confidant. 

“Dear Journal, You are the only one I can talk to.”  

Everyone wanted to be Carrie but I knew, I already was Carrie.  

It took one high school teacher mentioning, “You are a gifted writer.”  

And over a decade later, a neighbor suggesting, “You should start a blog.”  

For me to start a blog.  

How will I ever properly thank them for the journey they have encouraged me to record?

I keep writing, that’s how. 

I play with the gift I was given until there’s smoke coming off my paper. 

And for God’s sake. 

I have fun.  

Camille Vaughan Photography

Special thanks to The Wishing Game by Meg Shaffer

Peace

Posted on by Lauren

At first, a thread. 

Then, the seam. 

Piece by piece, 

My unraveling.

Not the sort you might think:

My pretty dress, favorite shirt. 

Instead, my knots. 

My tension, stress, anxiety.  

Bit-by-bit, 

Loosening.  

Letting go. 

They are all off to school.  

I said no to volunteering. 

And here I am. 

Unraveling the last dozen years. 

There was a moment when I considered adding to the size of this knot.

More money, more things, more praise.

Instead, 

Less. 

Unraveling.

Piece to Peace.

Camille Vaughan Photography