Audacity

It’s finally sinking in. 

My first born is off to high school tomorrow. 

It seemed so far away until it was just around the corner. 

I recognize that Emmett and I are approaching the phase of parenting where everything suddenly speeds up. She’s home and then she’s gone. 

And we’re left wondering, did we treasure it enough?

Did we pause and let it soak through our soul?

Is she going to be ok? Is she ready? Did we parent her well?

I’m overcome with emotion because I know the answers are YES. 

She, nor any of us, may ever feel ready but she’s going to be ok (come what may) because Aurora is a child of great faith. 

I’m the public school teacher but my first born has taught me more than I may have ever taught my students. 

She has humbled me and delighted me. She has made me laugh and cry. But more than anything she has blown me away with her audacity. 

As the first born, she’s had the unfortunate task of paving the way for her sisters. First to grapple with social norms, bus rides and mature friendships. First for us to parent through cell phones, sleepovers and curfews. Onward she trudged through middle school, despite longing for the comfort of her teachers in elementary. And when her three sisters had gymnastics in common, Aurora found her place in volleyball. 

Last year, she picked up the acoustic guitar and taught herself dozens of popular songs, spending hours playing and singing. She joined chorus at school and when the track music suddenly stopped during her first solo on stage in front of hundreds, she laughed and carried on, finishing strong. 

Most impressively, Aurora has brought our family to faith. 

For years, Aurora went to church with neighbors who picked her up on their way. Alone, she showed up, joining the youth group, slowly but surely finding her footing. Emmett and I witnessed this beautiful child blossom into a confident young teen. Her joy was infectious. Her songs became worship.

After a while, we started to wonder what this church was all about. How had it taken such a hold of our child?

So we started to attend. Cautiously, skeptically toes in the water we’re finding our way back to church with our first born to thank. 

Her fearlessness. Her boldness. Her audacity to pave the way is how I know she will be ok. 

My talented, intelligent, gorgeous first born is off to high school tomorrow and while it feels monumental, I have nothing but great faith in her.

Camille Vaughan Photography 2016

Lead

“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

Running on Empty

Fumes.  That is what my energy tank is running on.  It’s not just today, this week or even this year.  I’ve been pregnant, breastfeeding and waking up every single night with young children for over 5 years now and I’m spent.  This is just my story but there are so many others who are also exhausted for different reasons:  A chronic illness, a divorce, work, poverty, stress or athletic training.  At some point, we all feel tired so where do we find the energy to soldier on?

The answer is: Each other.  We lean on one another.  Tonight, when my children wouldn’t go to bed, my husband took them from me, recognizing my exhaustion level.  Other nights it is reversed but the bottom line is we lean on each other.  When he is not home, a phone call to a friend sometime suffices- they encourage me, make me laugh and tell me to quit whining and get back to work.  We were not meant to live this life in solitude.  However scared we may feel by sharing our weakness with someone else, we must do so in order to find the strength to carry on.

Sometimes it’s tough to trust someone else with our feelings, particularly when others from our past have let us down.  But we must recognize that when we fail to try again, we are allowing fear to dictate our well-being.  When we live in fear we are not living as our authentic selves and that is supremely exhausting in and of itself.

In the back of my mind, I know there is someone I have neglected to trust for fear of being duped, fooled, and let down.  I can trace the root of my apprehensiveness to my childhood but at what point do I make peace with this and stop allowing it to define my present and future?  I keep waiting to feel “ready” as if it is going to resolve itself.  Deep down, though, I know progress is not made for those who wait.  It is made for those who seek.  They seek treatment, forgiveness, peace, stability, courage, and improvement.  They seek hope.

I don’t feel “ready” but I feel exhausted and in my heart, I know what is missing above all else.  As much as I try to rationalize, dismiss and avoid, I know I am missing a relationship with my God.  I fear He doesn’t exist.  I fear putting my faith into something that isn’t there just to make myself feel better.  I fear being let down.  And yet, every. single. time. I have attended the church I grew to love last year, I left service feeling uplifted.  I felt hope.  I felt amazing clarity.  I felt humbled and I felt an immense amount of love and kindness surrounding me.

I’m running on empty and its because I have failed to fill my tank with the one Being whose energy and love has no bounds: my God.

We weren’t meant to do this alone.  We look to each other but above all else, we look to our Creator for there is no one in this great, big world that knows what we need more than Him.

I kneel down.  I ask for forgiveness in thinking I could do this on my own.  I ask you to hold my hand.  Fill me with gratitude and grant me the energy to carry on.  In your name, I pray.

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Dee Akright Photography