Years In Review | I'm Kristen Photography 2014

“time was passing like a hand waving from a train i wanted to be on."

  jonathan safran foer

In the way "When are you due!" is the question when you're pregnant, "Are you still doing photography!" is the question when, well, you disappear from the internet and stop posting any current photography. (Yes, I am still doing and have been doing photography. Just, differently.)

The last 18 months have, with no exaggeration, been the "most" times of my life.  It has been much -- from that day in June when our firstborn was delivered, to that day in January when my mom was delivered (from earth), to that day in April when blood on toilet paper met our second-born was no longer with us on earth, to all those days traveling (usually with at least one or two children) and living with other people constantly, to the long slow days spent in the heat and the ice building our home with our own two hands.

Despite what any marketing class or business principle might say, I've somehow shot dozens of weddings, and dozens of other sessions (and hosted a workshop!), while doing relatively no "promotional work."  Getting clients their images in a (mostly) timely manner is the most important, and after that, I simply haven't had more to give my business.  I blogged 27 times this year, and 28 times last year as opposed to 130 times in a year before.  My facebook page hasn't seen many more followers, my online hits have dropped (as is the case when sites are neglected), my e-mail isn't filled with inquiries, I have a blog but not a website.  Everything should be pointing to financial 'failure' and damaged business.

Yet, as always, things just kind of... fell into place. (Huge special thanks for the support and relationship with the folks at Strong Mansion.  More than half of the weddings were set there, with Twins + Violins playing music.  You'll recognize a certain set of steps very quickly ;) It's been great working together so often.) And such deeply beautiful clients have come my way, welcoming me into their holy days, and showing me the power of connection weekend after weekend.

Photographing a wedding has become a thing of healing for me.  Some days it was very, very hard to show up with my "game face" and be a sparkling professional woman.  Preparing my tools the night before, putting on make-up, doing my hair, sometimes pulling my bloody big-girl panties on (as I shot weddings one week after giving birth to Rowdy, and one week after miscarrying Ryan), sometimes crying or staring blankly in the car on my way too and from, sneaking off to empty my body of milk-filled pain, wearing a pretty outfit, feeling so strong and confident each time I finish, proud of my mind and body, grateful for my current ability and health, depositing checks in the bank and taking the money out to hang drywall or see the sea, letting myself get lost in the bliss of others, the weird and hard and thrilling work of creating, reviewing photographs, giving newlyweds the story of that day.  It is healing.  It is healing to be sensory -- to see, taste, touch, smell, hear -- when often I've had emptiness or "nothingness" this year.  It quickens me.  Being able to live, and move, and have my being, while working for, through and with God on these days of heaven-and-earth, keeps my eyes wide open when I can want to squish them shut.

I was often drawn to the middle-aged and turning-elderly women.  Sometimes it was the mother of the bride or groom, but other times it was just a group of guests or unruly aunts.  I watched them.  I watched them just be moms -- they worried, fussed, finagaled, cried, glowed, stared adoringly, got a little tipsy, kissed cheeks, choked on joy.  One dear mama carried down the aisle a photograph of she and her now-groom-then-toddler-son cut into a heart.  They fed me and, without a doubt, I would release that uncomfortable, nostalgic feeling with some tears.    One lovely friend told me my photographs were "a spiritual act."  Her sentiments blessed me.  Similar to the way that praying both honors God and brings me peace, photographing honors the stories of these people and brings me happy hope.

It is hard mental, emotional and physical work to be present and involved in the details.  I'm so honored that, again, someone, some people, trusted me to do that work.  And as all good hard work is, it is an actual joy to create for them.  Here is a (tough, tough, tough to narrow down) vault of the places I've been, flavors I've tasted, faces I've met, and souls I've linked hearts with this last year and a bit.  From Montreal to the eastern shore, from Texas to twenty-minutes down the road from home; the six-figure events and the four-figure events; the humid hot days and cold rainy days; the baby flower girls and the century-old grandparents; the mothers and the fathers; and everything in between.  Thank you, from the fragile places of this woman's heart.  The amount of intense (though sometimes teeny) human history I witnessed is nothing less than medicine.

ps. Thank you to my second-shooters this year: the spunky Ellie Be, winsome Hannah Nicole, and baby-daddy Caleb.

Nick + Becca | Walker's Overlook Wedding

"because same, no we’re not the same 

but that’s what makes us strong"

home -- dierks bentley 

Becca was the little girl in my parent's church group.  Becca was the pretty little girl with enormous dimples in my parent's church group.  Becca was the pretty little girl with enormous dimples who loved to draw, paint, read and write in my parent's church group.  A modern-day, kind-of-country version of Belle.  And she grew up.  With a college degree and a diamond.  I'll never forget meeting with her before the wedding. "Tell me about you and Nick?  I don't know him aside from what's on Facebook, and I've never met him!" She paused for a moment, a smiled -- she always smiles -- "Well." Another pause.  It was if she had something she wanted to say, but was looking for an Option Two. With her hands gently crossed over well-postured torso she finally spilled the beans: "Nick and I are madly in love! I'm just, we're, well, we're crazy about each other.  I really didn't know it could be like this.  I'm so in love with him."  She physically saturated as she spoke: her eyes greener, her cheeks peachier, her lips raspberrier.  Becca didn't necessarily feel ready to be married.  She thrived in school, and is passionate about literature and great stories and diligent creativity.  Her china-doll appearance is wonderfully matched with her firm, yet gentle, resolve.  School, it was!  And then? Maybe teaching?  Maybe traveling?  Maybe more school?  Until... Nick.  He lived a few hours away and they met at an area conference.  She resisted the best she could but it was a brief resistance.  She snapped open like a pixie stick, and sweet wonder came pouring out.  With a couple of semesters left of college, a semi-long-distance-madly-in-love-relationship, and pending wedding -- marriage! lifetime! -- Becca had her work cut out for her.  And she rose to the magical, devoted challenge. I love, throughout each wedding day, when "it" catches up with a bride.  For me it happened at three times: mid-way through getting my make-up done, waiting to walk down the aisle, and driving away in the limo with my husband.  Each moment was just... there aren't words, there aren't descriptions.  I could try, but it would sound like naive, foolish gush-sauce.  The moments were other-worldly and moments that simply cannot be recreated or re-lived.  They happen and *poof* they are a bold memory.  Watching Becca as she saw herself in her dress for the first time took me back.  It was as close to re-living my moment as could be while I enjoyed her having her moment.  (Ps. Her crazy great mama did a little jig to try to make her laugh and stop crying.  Brilliant.) The day was everything it should have been.  Becca grew up in a white-porch-hugged country home, at the bottom of a grassy green valley in the first rural town outside of our suburban area.  As children we loved visiting their house -- go carts! creeks! the country store across the street! barefeet! dogs!  When I watched Becca, so lovely and so poised, wander around on the rolling green property of Walker's Overlook I was overcome with the scene.  It had an illustrious rightness.  If the buzz before a ceremony could be bottled and sold someone would be eternally wealthy.   The waft of perfumes as female guests arriving, newly primed, the loud cackle every few minutes that hushes into reverence, the clangling of earrings and bracelets and wrist watches and sunglasses, the final strums of a practicing musician, crriiick as humans bend into their seats, the flutter of green leaves, like a chime.  It took much time to arrive here, and yet! Here we are! The time is now and it can almost feel rushed -- natural, and right, and good -- but striking when it's "suddenly" the beginning of your wedding. As sweet as it was that Becca declared her mad-and-hard fall into love with Nick, it wasn't that she was in love that I remember as much as who she was in love WITH.  You see, in so many ways Nick is Becca's opposite.  I more and more find that couples personalities may be "opposite" but often they have a core of similarity.  But not so with Nick and Becca.  He his idea of a great night is wings and the game.  He loves his softball team and league.  He works hard with his hands, dances like a ninja racoon in the moonlight, and loves to entertain the crowd.  He's active, social, athletic, and friendly.  His sense of humor is impossible to miss and, well, he's just not the tortoise-shell-glasses-wearing, studious, book worm nerd we all always predicted for Becca.   And when I see pictures of her at huge Halloween parties dressed to the nines as a Marilyn Monroe, or at family reunions in the great outdoors pulling ropes in giant tug-a-war I just smile.  I love it.  I love the various and many interests and life tugs these two have.  I love that a powerhouse athlete turned his head for a shy poet.  I love that there was electricity, friendship, and unity.  I love that being married has meant brave steps (since they've been married for almost a year now!) I love that Becca has jumped headfirst into her art, building a handsome business.  And I love that she has the support and companionship in her dearly beloved opposite.

(sweet memory: my parent's were guests at this wedding, and mom held two-week-old rowdy for me while i worked.  i loved going through to choose pictures for this post and coming across her in the background, chatting with friends or eating or holding my son.  i'm grateful for this special last wedding event together.)

The entire day was a noticeably bright, festive, big-fat-great, especially smiley celebration.  These firecrackers have so much fun, new, and ever-different ahead of them.  I'll close with a few lines I read this morning from Seth Rogen, goofy-guy-next-door actor: "In movies they like to portray marriage like 'Oh, the wife and husband are always arguing and bickering. For me and my wife, the easiest part of life is [our] marriage. Like if everything was as smooth and easy and fun as my relationship with my wife then I would have a much easier time getting through the day. We really get along..."  I loved this sentiment, and it is my own personal experience.  I saw it fitting for Becca and Nick because -- despite the odds, the miles, the cheese nachos -- they just get along and sure are crazy about each other.  Happy (late!) Wedding Day!  It was an absolute blast, as I'm sure your marriage and life is as well! (ps.  Happy Birthday, today, Becca!)

Tim + Ica | Jefferson Park Maryland Wedding

i've never been quite as happy as  i am. 
me & mr. cassidy - as happy as i am 

All seasons, not just the Christmas one, should have carols.   Those festive songs, made for jubilant connection and noisy celebration.  Her name was no mistake, she's a living carol - a human version of elated song.  Irene Carol has been dancing and prancing, laughing and quaking, feeling and giving since she was born.  Her twinkly almond eyes could inspire paintings, and her spontaneous, full-body, arched, boom laugh could be sold in bottles.  She'd make millions.   And when this songbird of a lady planned a wedding day, it could only have gone one way: marvelously.  Not just a nice spring day, but a perfect spring extravaganza.  Not just cute, but sensational.  Not just emotional, but unrestrained and ardent.  It was a day where all the birds were heard, all the smells were enjoyed, all the colors were vibrant and all the hearts swelled.

“...she had that something which fires the imagination, that could stop one's breath for a moment by a look or gesture that somehow revealed the meaning in common things. 

She had only to stand in the orchard, to put her hand on a little crab tree and look up at the apples, to make you feel the goodness of planting and tending and harvesting at last. 

All the strong things of her heart came out in her body, that had been so tireless in serving generous emotions.   She was a rich mine of life, like the founders of early races.” (willa cather)

Ica, and her whimsical fashion-sense and chatty brain, met Tim on a blind date six years ago.  They were young munches.  And they played long and hard, and laughed even more than usual.  Tim goofed up on his great "pick-up line" and the chapter started, there was a beginning of "them."  The guitar-playing, energetic, prayer boy had to be with this girl, whose Facebook profile pictures were full of animal print, scrunched noses, confetti, sunsets, beach trips, so.many.friends and that iconic smile.








Their love is a tested one.  It nearly slipped between their fingers, and was gone forever.  But they fought.  And they waited.  And they chose respect and patience over every other strong emotion in their chests and heads and way into their toes and souls.  They could have said "Forget this!  We want to be together, and we WILL BE."  They could have pushed and forced.  But they trusted a Love bigger their own, and knew He was good - yes, very good.   Smiles had to be forced sometimes, and colors were muted, but there was joy.  And peace.  They prayed and wondered and hoped there would be a day - someday - in their future where they could marry.  Where they could be brought together, in one union, with one name.  Six years.  Six years. Happy singing!  It led them here:



The bay water wasn't thumping, and birds weren't chirping or rustling.  Blue skies - extra saturated - because, well, color is in their blood and souls.  A heated wind carefully puffed the hungry, crispy, long grass.  But it remained respectful and hushed.  It was as if nature understood the holiness of the moment, and tearily - with baited breath and grinning, smashed lips - was soaking in the moment itself. The distinct lack of white noise was perfect.  Just the clip-clop of Ica's t-straps, the deep, deep sighs coming from either end of the path and an occasional squeak and sniff from the bride.


And then...





... comedic timing took over ;)  The grass snarled with Ica's veil and she broke the eerie silence with roars and "Of COURSE"'s and gasps as she tried to catch her breath.  Tim was dying to turn his back and rush to her.  He swayed and joined in her laughter, even though he didn't know what was happening.  I paused taking pictures for a moment to enter into the scene and untangle the tulle.  She eventually continued on her way, laughing and shaking her head at herself.  It couldn't have been greater.










The jesting and frivolity that easily bonded them, and the strength and depth, that proved to keep them, was all wrapped into that those few minutes.  Like a trailer of their entire relationship.  They prayed and partied.  It was the single best first look I've ever witnessed.

I couldn't stand it if you kids were inconsiderate, or thought of her as if she were just somebody who looked after you.

You see I was very much in love with your mother, and I know there's nobody like her...”  (willa cather)

Before the wedding Becca predicted that there would be "lots of tears - in a good way."  After the wedding Lydia and I agreed that it was one of, if not THE most, teary ceremonies we'd ever been to.  During Tim's vows even the groomsmen were losing it.   They prayed together at their first look, prayed together during their ceremony, and ran down the aisle, with cheers and hoorays!, to a quiet moment behind the barn so they could pray.   But don't think so much spiritual discipline in action meant for blah or overly-somber.  Oh no.















This wedding was as vivacious and passionate as weddings get - and it don't hurt that they have spicy, bright, outspoken, sassy friends ;)






































Though I love to write, and am convinced that beautiful writing can enhance a visual story, I sometimes think my words will only hinder the intensity and happy the couple themselves declare.  Maybe that's my creative way of saying: I just don't have words to explain the hope and delight and celebration I saw in the eyes and faces of this new husband and wife.  You'll just have to go back and look at them again.  If you can't see it - if you don't see what I see - then I probably couldn't describe it any better.  But in a word, they were in bliss.



























































Mr. and Mrs. Remo, you're near to my heart and this wedding was the answer to truly thousands of prayers.  How sweet it is to experience these days of life?  The "yes's!" from God!  The feasting and the beautiful days!  The "heaven" days - the ones who anticipate and look forward to and await quite eagerly.  You're incredible and will not be leaving this earth unmarked or unloved.  It was a good thing that the Lord brought a Living Carol and a Excited Schoolteacher together... go enjoy singing your life song <3>

ps. I shot this wedding seven months pregnant - which I'm pretty proud about - but I'd be a jerk to not thank Ellie for second-shooting, Lydia for keeping me fed, and Caleb Husband Love Dude Man for doing just about everything else (driving, bag-carrying, battery hunting, and foot-and-ankle-rubbing for the next three days.)

Gatsby Spring | Monday Inspiration

“and so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees,
 just as things grow in fast movies,
i had that familiar conviction that life 
was beginning over again with the spring.” 
f. scott fitzgerald

American Literature, in 11th grade, was my favorite.   My Antonia took me off-guard - I didn't expect to love it so much.  To Kill A Mockingbird was a heart-warming and real as ever.  Cheaper By The Dozen is probably the first chapter book I want to read aloud to my son.  I laugh at the same jokes - out loud - every time.  Our Town was eerie and kind of weird - the perfect way to playwright "normal" American life.  But The Great Gatsby.  My favorite book of the year. 

“In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths  among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.”

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.”
"Then she laughed, an absurd, charming, little laugh.  'I'm p-paralyzed with happiness.'  She laughed again, as if she had said something very witty.
She held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face,  promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. 
That was a way she had."

"They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—
they smashed up things and creatures
and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness,
or whatever it was that kept them together,
and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”


“Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry,
I turned away.”

"Her throat, full of aching, grieving beauty,
told only of her unexpected joy."

“Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

“It makes me sad because I've never seen such--such beautiful shirts before.”

Gatsby, the story of hideous, beautiful, miserable, rich, real people.  The sparkles, the pool parties, the vacation homes, the expensive clothes, the Eggs, the accomplishment and legacy, the art deco, the romance.  The part of me that loves old glamour, high heels, white spaces, anything regarding summer in The Hamptons, the hotel in Somewhere In Time, earrings, and all parts of pre-and-post World War I history felt quite understood and known and maybe a little jealous when reading.  To this day I dream about a tall room with ocean-like white curtains, "like pale flags," blowing in and out of the windows in summer breeze, twisting up to a "frosted wedding-cake of a ceiling."  I'd obviously be wearing white, too, perched on my anchor of an "enormous couch."
The time in the century, the lifestyle they led, the names they were known by:  all of it seems perfect, and dreamy.  Far more "me" than a Depression-town or the wild wild west or a nothing-to-do-po-dunk-village.  No, this THIS part of America was what thrilled me!

And part of why I love Gatsby is because the characters have terrible lives.
Twisted, selfish, shallow, high-class lives.  The juxtaposition makes me warm and type-y.  "They weren't happy... but they weren't unhappy, either."  Dill and Mr. Gilbreth and Miss Shimerda were happy - in their hard-knock sort of ways.  But not the Buchanans.  Or Jay.  Or Myrtle. 

Maybe I just love that you really can't judge a book by it's cover, and that, to quote a dying king in The Swan Princess "It's not what it seems! It's NOT WHAT IT SEEMS!"  There's more to the story, and like a spelunker in the caves, I love to chip away and find out who someone really is, not who they seem to be.

Needless to say, I am greatly looking forward to the May 10, 2013 Warner Brothers theater release of this story.   Leonardo, Tobey, Carey? Don't let me down.

In the meantime, can someone let me know if they find this version of the book, well, anywhere?  It's divine.  Yellow - the perfect color theme for the story.  Daisy, summer, gold, sunshine or... sickly, vile, puke.  It's one of those colors that can be so perfect and happy when it's right, and staunchly ugly when it's a few shades off.

I think these $12 art deco (yellow) earrings are the grandest little pop of "East Egg" to an outfit.

modcloth

Maybe with this ponte knit, rich raspberry, 20's inspired day dress?  Not to mention it's on sale for $19.99...

gap maternity

If money were no bother, I'd easily grab up two or three of Behida Dolic handmade creations.  Look through her whole etsy.  EVERY single one is chilling and sensational.

behida dolic

behida dolic

For a more casual, budget-friendly me, I think adding brooches to a top knot is ultra classy.   I'm over "brooches" in general, but I do think this is a clever and spiffy way to use them... subtle and sassy!

the glitter guide

This lot of seven pins is only $28, too!  Not bad!

etsy

I need a friend to need a birthday/shower/spring party to be thrown.  Maybe I'll just throw one myself (yeah right.)  But this $22 (on sale!) Global Amici cake stand is harassing me.  It won't leave me alone. It keeps telling me I need it. "Especially because my stem is exaggerated - how fetching would I be on a food table?" he says.  I have no come-backs.  Yet.

fab.com

The party will also need these paper placemats.  The good news is that I currently own them.  Happy joy bubbles finger dance!  You can buy them, too, at Layla Grace (trick: they are $25, but if you sign up for their e-mail subscription, you get a $25 off a purchase coupon! Woop!) I was stopped dead in my... blankets... when I came upon this Gatsby-Inspired-Garden Wedding on The Lane (photography by Lara Hotz).  THIS is how it's done, ladies and gentleman.  Yellow bow-tie and all.  This is now the inspiration for my someday-giant-cake-stand-confetti-place-mat party.




My favorite pin of the week happens to be these imagined "business cards" of the guests at Gatsby's party.  The bunch at The Heads of State created them.  And I'll never be the same.
Happy Monday, everyone.  And if you're surrounded by snow - go read these two pages.   And pretend you're drinking cucumber-lime water.

New Blog Design + Giveaway 2013

"toto,

i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore."

dorothy - wizard of oz

I once read about a study done to test human "follow" patterns and herd mentality.  There was a test subject put in a room with 19 people.  The test subject was under the impression that these 19 folks were other testers, but in reality they were "in" on the experiment.  They all did a brief written test, then they had some group projects to do.  A simple math problem was put up on a board (something like 63 + 24).  As the group discussed, they all instantly agreed the answer to the problem was 97.  The one tester was quiet and hesitant.  He counted on his fingers.  But in the end, he just said what everyone else did.  "Yeah, 97."  You've probably seen those youtube pranks where a large group of people will turn a corner and come running and screaming down the alley.  Often the clueless passerby will join in and run with them!  Why run? I DON'T KNOW! BUT EVERYONE ELSE IS! NINETY SEEEEVEN!!!

Launching a new blog design at the beginning of the year feels a little flock like to me (I'm obviously rounding up the group in the back).  Winter, after holidays, is obviously the most practical time for a primarily spring to fall photographer to get other business tasks done.  Last winter I was set ablaze thanks to Alt Summit and I decided to re-do my blog and start writing out my love story.  I also instituted the Enjoy Project.  I wanted to start taking the gradual turn into expanding my vision for this blog, as well as my vision for my career and daily life.  I was single, renting a room with my friends and on the verge of so many bigs.

One year later,  I'm a wife who shares a happy apartment with a stud-muffin.  I'm a mother, who shares her body with a little son.  I'm writing more, cooking more (well, I was cooking more... now I'm eating more. haha.), I'm taking steps to figure out how to actually turn a blog series into a real book.  We're taking our hard-earned cash to Oklahoma to finish building our house.  We're talking often about that soup & sandwich shop we want to open someday.  I'm taking fewer weddings, and more "other shoots."  I realize that I love wedding photography, but I don't love a lot of wedding photography.  I hope to shoot weddings until my hips break, but I find myself far more interested, inspired and emotional when my shoots vary - from promotional shoots, maternity shoots, documentary style shooting, portraits, babies, weddings, home life.  This goes against what I had been taught.  "Don't try to be average at a lot of things!  Focus on ONE thing! Specialize in one area!"  For some people, that is probably great advice.  But for me, I need the variety.  I do better in all areas when every week has brand new events.  Maybe that is why I loved sports?  You practice and practice, but have no idea what to expect come game time.  A music recital isn't like that.  You practice and practice and practice your piece... and then... you play... that same piece!  Just like you practiced! (hopefully.)



All of that to say, I needed a site that could keep up with my varied interests and pursuits.  A place that looked like, you know, a grown woman's site.  It was time.  97! ;)  The dear, talented Hannah Nicole took over my giant dream.  She is the one to thank for the new branding and design.  Please sing her praises and love her a lot.   Hannah, you're absolutely one-of-a-kind and dazzling.

But WHAT is a new design, without a giveaway?  Come on!  That's the way to share the love!  One lucky man, woman or child is going to be the proud and delighted owner of these four gifts:

$100 Southwest GiftCard
$100 Etsy GiftCard
Smitten Kitchen Cookbook
Soft Leather Journal 

You pretty people have ONE week to enter!  Next Monday the winner will be announced!  Cheers throughout the land!  Let the dancing in the streets begin!  (And you all better hope I don't keep these for myself.  I all of these prizes for myself.  Especially the cookbook.  How well do you trust my character... muhahah? ;)

Six Stupendous Social (like an ice cream club!) Ways To Win The Prizes!

Tweet about it: follow me on twitter + then retweet my giveaway tweet to your pack of wolves! (make sure my handle is included so I see that you did it!)
Instagram about it: Screen-cap the new blog design or giveaway list, and let the photographers of the land know about the giveaway (make sure you mention me... and if you're instagram is private, follow me and leave me comment on my photo so I see your entry!)
Pin it: Re-pin the giveaway list and tag me in a comment!
Blog it: Feel free to steal my giveaway list jpeg and post it on your own blog, linking back to my blog.
Facebook like and share it: Like my page on Facebook! And then share

*Comment [required]: And tell me what you'd do with your winnings! (Where would you like to fly off to with your Southwest giftcard, or what you have your eye on over at Etsy?  Who do you want to wine and dine?  Any fun reasons to have a new journal?) (you can also comment separately and let me know how else you entered, if you want to be sure I see it!  I'll be keeping a tally system with each name, but I know how it is.  If you're going to do all the hard work, you want to be positive it is getting you a shot at the paaah-riiizze!)

Alright!  I'm... happy.  This is fun.  I hope you enjoy it all!

The Shape of Life | Strong Mansion Portraits

"he was trying to show me the shape of his life, 
and what might become the shape of it."
wendell berry

"He was seeing the time to come as a possibility, and as a life that he loved.  And though maybe neither of us fully understood it, he made me love it.  It wasn't as though I was being swept away by some irresistible emotion. 
It was just... the thought of resistance never entered my mind.  When I imagined him entering the life he saw, I imagined myself entering it too.  It was a possibility that belonged to both of us.
It is entirely clear to me now.  We were coming together into the presence of something good that was possible in this world.  And it just seemed that, as we waited together for the coming of this life, it had become wrong to sit apart." Wendell Berry, from Hannah Coulter









Happy Monday!

Today | Personal

"I so do not hate you."
Caleb, coming up with a "new" way to say "I love you."

There are days that you realize how much you love your person.  I've never been one to say or even "get" the phrase "I fall more in love with you everyday."  Maybe that's just me.  I don't mind that other people say it or mean it.  I love Caleb everyday.  Better and sweeter still, he loves me every day - and that's a life-changing, weird, "how do I get to be this girl?" experience.  But then those days come.  And you just... yeah.  You feel love for them so much more than you ever have before.  That doesn't happen "everyday" for me.  But when it happens, I really feel like I'm "falling in love" all over again and not experiencing actual life and I just have to bake him muffins and take pictures of him and daydream at my desk and... tell someone.    

“And I want to play hide-and-seek,

and give you my clothes,
and tell you I like your shoes,
and sit on the steps while you take a bath,
and massage your neck and kiss your feet,
and hold your hand,
and go for a meal and not mind when you eat my food,
and meet you at Rudy's and talk about the day,
and type up your letters and carry your boxes,
and laugh at your paranoia,
and give you tapes you don't listen to,
and watch great films and watch terrible films,
and complain about the radio,
and take pictures of you when you're sleeping,
and get up to fetch you coffee and bagels and Danish,
and take you to the eye hospital,
and not laugh at your jokes,
and want to see you in the morning but let you sleep for a while,
and tell you how much I love your hair,
and sit on the steps 'till your neighbour comes home,
and sit on the steps waiting till you come home,
and worry when you're late and be amazed when you're early,
and be sorry when I'm wrong and happy when you forgive me,
and look at your photos,
and wish I'd known you forever,
and tell you you're gorgeous,
and hug you when you're anxious,
and hold you when you hurt,
and want you when I smell you,
and whimper when I'm next to you and whimper when I'm not,
and smother you in the night,
and get cold when you take the blanket and hot when you don't,
and melt when you smile and dissolve when you laugh,
and tell you about the tree angel enchanted forest dove who flew across the ocean because she loved you,
and write poems for you,
and want to buy you a kitten because it'd be funny,
and keep you in bed when you have to go,
and cry like a baby when you finally do,
and get rid of the roaches,
and buy you presents you don't want,
and wander the city thinking of you,
and want what you want,
and think I'm losing myself but know I'm safe with you,
and tell you the worst of me,
and try to give you the best of me,
and answer your questions when I'd rather not,
and tell you the truth when I really don't want to,
and try to be honest because I know it's best,
and try to get closer to you because it's beautiful learning to know you and well worth the effort,
and speak German to you badly and Hebrew to you worse,
and somehow somehow somehow communicate some of the unconditional, all-encompassing, heart-enriching, mind-expanding, on-going love I have for you.” 

Josh + Brielle | Linganore Winery Wedding

“part of me is made of glass, and also,
i love you.”
nicole krauss

Summer sun makes promises.  Especially promises about love.  Brielle spent a summer day and night at a beautiful vineyard reception.  Wine! Dancing! Cheer!  Maybe he liked her.  Maybe he definitely liked her.  She left that wedding a summer or so ago frustrated ("Is he going to ask me out? Or do I need to get over this?") and ardent ("I want him to ask me out.  I don't want to get over this.")  The summer sun set. 








With the capacity of an entire team, a young Brielle has been administrating at her large church for years (yearssss) now.  She isn't just "good for her age."  She's good.  AND she's her age.  It's hard to walk into that building and not see a little blonde-bun-ned, walkie-talking and power-walking Brielle.  Her capable ability is a genius match to her blunt, radical, sharp, independent personality.  She is a think-a-head-er.  She's a do-er.  She thinks of the problems before they arise, and prepares for solutions before they are needed.  Brielle is not an airhead or ditzy blonde.  Though she be little, she be fierce!  She is not a drizzly, naive, "tender", or high-maintence.  I would be willing to bet that she's heard the phrase "you seem so much older than you really are!" weekly throughout her life.  I love her Brielle-tough-ness, her confidence, her crazy great sense of humor, her strong beauty.

I remember when Josh "first came to town."  He started teaching at the church's Christian school.  He was fresh out of college, energetic, consistently involved (in everything), and... single.  I was sure he'd pick one of the many pretty, available faces and get married within six months.  I was wrong.  Josh really invested himself in the roles God put before him.  Summer camps.  Sound booth.  Classroom.  Wrestling coach.  Church meetings.  It was a joke around there that Josh had a secret bedroom in the church scaffolding ;) "Does he ever leave?"  He, in particular, has spent great amount of time and life with the youngins.  The respect and friendship the kids share with him is undeniable.  But that great quality could sure be confusing when you're a younger girl... who likes him!

And yet, even though it maybe took him a *little* too long, Brielle found out that her crush was not an unrequited one.  And there was indeed something more between them.  "From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom or yet describe takes place, like falling in love, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges and absorbs the impact.” They fell in love.  And last summer, he proposed in the church auditorium... where they have spent so many years of life together.  This winter, they married in that same church.  A legacy of giving, loving and pouring out themselves together continues and also begins.  













This was during the worship song... they weren't really singing ;) But they had some cute jokes for each other.





But, here's what I love.  Mr. Slow-Mover-Hard-Thinker-Teacher and Miss In-Charge-and-Super-Mature become so... kiddish when they are together.  I watched Brielle all morning and just thought "She seems so grown-up."  And then I watched Brielle in a chilly field with him and I thought "Wow, she seems like such a little girl."




Beautiful, yes.  Adult, yes. But the whole energy and environment changed.  Not only was she more relaxed, but she seemed completely carefree.  It was a side to her that I've personally never seen quite that way and also so enjoyed.  And Josh.  Josh was crazy over her.  I had a hard time getting them to stop talking and joking to take pictures... which is a dream come true, in my book.



















After celebrating with (what seemed like) the entire church and school, the evening crowd drove over to nearby Linganore Winery - ironically enough, the same winery she emotionally fumbled at that one not too far-gone summer.  With new rings on their hands and surrounded by the people they have loved on - for years - there was jubilee and partying for them.




The dance floor never (not once.) slowed down for over two hours.  Who was out there, keeping their kicks in the air?  Mostly Josh's students... plus many good friends and dear family.  It was certainly one of the longest, loudest, fastest, constant-est parties I've ever been to :)  Hoards of high-schoolers should come to every wedding!

 


Happy wedding day, you two kids.  Enjoy your Cancun summer sun, and all the promises you're reminded of while you're under it :)

ps. special special thanks to lydia jane for second-shooting with me + for a number of her lovely images used in this post :)

Enjoy Writing | Oh My My My | Part 8

we cut through the lowlands

all hands through the salt lands

change of time - josh ritter

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

Yes.  Caleb was in the air, flying from Tennessee to Tampa, to spend Christmas with me.  I'll tell you what I didn't know then: how did that happen?!

It had been about ten days since I called and told him that we couldn't talk anymore.  He had found a mustard yellow scarf that I accidentally left behind on my trip and he carried it around with him.  He missed me.  He was flattened.  Deflated.  And decided.  He didn't fully understand why I couldn't (or wouldn't) talk with him anymore.   Caleb chose to continue talking with my dad - a couple phone calls and texts throughout the week.   My dad was excessively impressed with this boy, but he also understood my conflicted heart.  

As the days went on, and Caleb's favorite holiday in history, Christmas, approached, he felt less than holly jolly.  With plans to spend time with friends in Kentucky for Christmas, the Morris family packed up and headed out on December 23.  Caleb spend most of the 15-hour drive scrolling through Facebook looking at pictures of a girl he couldn't talk to, sleeping and texting a dad in Florida.

Caleb thought about how badly he wanted to be in Tampa, not in Kentucky.  He thought about how great it would be to see that "city girl" and meet her family.  The thing about Caleb is that when he sets his mind to something, he can't be derailed.  And all of a sudden these hopes and "I wish"s were turning into "This might work…"s and "I might try!"s.  After arriving to Kentucky in the wee hours of the morning, Caleb helped the family unpack and unload, and fell asleep after his restless night.  When he woke up a few hours later, he was jazzed.   All it took to push him off the edge was a half-joke half-dare from my dad over text: "We have an extra seat at the dinner table…" Caleb called him.   "Can I come? I want to come."  

My dad loves the chase, the story, the good guy and the suspense more than Nicholas Sparks.  He welcomed Caleb.  The Kentucky house turned into a scene from The Amazing Race.  Everyone was searching for flights on Christmas Eve.  The flights were astronomically expensive.  It flurried inside, instead of outside.  The Morris family and their friends searched any and all websites they could think of, on any and all devices that could get signal.  Someone finally came up with the idea of driving the 2.5 hours to Nashville, because the Nashville flights were radically less expensive.  Done.  They found a flight that had Caleb landing in Florida around 10:00 pm.  

A car full of family and friends escorted the Excited Desperado to his twilight flight where he'd be whisked away to surprise the girl on his mind and heart.  He'd never flown on a plane before.  He'd never traveled anywhere alone before.  He'd certainly never pursued a girl like this before! And he didn't really think much about what would happen when he arrived.  He just went.

His mom snapped a picture of lackluster Caleb at home with his little sister, yellow scarf in hand.

So there I was, standing next to a pot of beans, tomatoes and meat, with all eyes on me.  Caleb was in the sky with Santa Claus.  When I read the text I felt extremely, completely and overwhelmingly… nothing.  I went blank.  "I need to take a shower.  Wait, right now? He's coming right now? I need to take a shower.  But now? He… this is now?"  My poor mom wasn't sure what to think - mom's have always been more sensitive to emotions.  In slow motion I walked to the bathroom and turned on the hot water.  I had the wherewithal to text my best friends back home. "So, Caleb is coming for Christmas?"  My phone exploded.  I didn't have the brain or the words to answer their questions.  

While I showered, fears started to wiggle back in.  I started to "feel" and I felt afraid.  "I don't want to hurt anybody.  I'm not sure quite how I feel about him.  I'm nervous.  He's coming to meet my family and I've only talked to him three times on the phone!"  God truly interrupted my thought process in one of those unforgettable moments.  "Just pray."  I prayed and prayed and prayed.  Like the water running down my head, peace ran down my heart.  I left the bathroom with a calmed and even delighted heart.  A complete transformation from when I entered.  "This just might be a little bit fun!"  Peace and courage, peace and courage, peace and courage.  They cycled over again and again.

My dad and I talked as we drove to the airport.  The drive was only about 20 minutes.  I don't remember what exactly we talked about, but I know we joked and that I felt carefree.  Years ago my dad made me a promise: "Kristen, I will never ruin anything that is good for you."  My dad reminded me that this guy was a good guy, and that I needed to have fun and not over think the situation.  We pulled up to the "Arrivals" lane and my dad let me out so I could greet Caleb alone.  As part of my Christmas surprise, Caleb had my yellow scarf sent back to me, so I decided to wear it to the airport.  I sat at the bottom of the staircase, watching the TV screens.  I went to the bathroom to re-fluff my hairs.  I went back to the screens.  I un-tucked my shirt. I un-zipped my jacket.  I re-tucked my shirt.  Re-zipped my jacket.  I tried to tie my scarf a couple of different ways.  I put chapstick on.  Cherry! Mmm.  I went back to the stairs and screens.  Oh my feet.  His plane has landed.  Oh my.  Cue butterflies.  I truly remember for the first time in my life wishing I had a paper bag to breathe into.  It was a hands on the seat, arms straight, deep breaths, close your eyes, hold very very still few minutes.  

Passengers filled the staircase.  I watched behind a pillar for a skinny blonde.  The first wave of folks died down.  Another wave erupted and I waited some more.  No sign of the Caleb Dude.  After a third go-round I spotted him, but he didn't see me.  My did he look precious.  He had a small, in my opinion feminine, tote bag.  He seemed a little frantic.  He was just as long and lanky as I remembered.  I snuck to the bottom of the escalator he was riding down and just stood there.  He looked at me a couple of times but completely didn't "see" me.  When he made it to the end we finally made eye contact and he almost fell over he was so shocked!  I guess my dad thought it would be a fun surprise to not tell Caleb I was coming to the airport!

And there we were.  In person.  In Florida.  For Christmas.  With a yellow scarf.  Many emotions. And no clue.  

Our "hello!" was as strange as you might imagine, but also deeply sincere and memorable.  You'll remember that we hadn't said a single word to each other since "I can't talk to you anymore" and now we were standing beside each other on Christmas Eve.   The obvious and only first questions were asked "How was your flight?" "Not too bad!  Not bad at all. How is your family?" "They're great! Yeah, great.  Yours?" "Oh, good.  Just… recovering from the long drive." "For sure." "Yeah."

We also quickly side-hugged.  Side-patted?  It was something I would tweet about if I saw it happen.  Just…awfully silly and stiff.  We made our way, with pleather lady bag in tow, to my dad's car.  Caleb was wide-eyed.  He seemed exhausted.  As excited and eager as he was to come, I think it was starting to hit him "Now what?"  

We chit-chatted and got updates as we drove back home.  Caleb very formally and professionally introduced himself to my family.  He looked everyone straight in the eye and used his full-name.  "Hello, I'm Caleb Morris.  It's nice to meet you." *shake shake.*  He sat on the couch like he was sitting on a cactus - upright and light.  It was late and the children had important sugar plum dreams to worry about, so they all jumbled to their beds.  

Little did I know that he'd be in my house just a few days later!

Caleb watched and helped me wrap my last presents.  He was appalled at my scattered wrapping technique.  "I'm a perfectionist.  I would never wrap anything like that."  I laughed.  "Well, I just might drive you off a cliff.  I'm far from a perfectionist.  I'm… a free spirit! Like a modern day Pocahontas."  He didn't exactly laugh.  

I can't remember what else we talked about that night, but we soon went to sleep.  The next morning was a happy buzz of sausage smells, children, colors and enthusiasm.  Bless his heart, Caleb sat on the couch next to me and didn't say much.  He watched, stared and responded politely when spoken to.  In the meantime, my brothers and sisters were jumping on each other.  My dad was making jokes about sports and Seinfeld.  Grandma told him he was fat.  Someone was talking about "passing gas."  We ganged up on Kevin.  Shannon screamed.  Dad yelled "NUEMAN!" Mom apologized to Caleb.  Dude ran off to play his new video games.  I was wearing shorts.  Timmy laughed about how skinny Caleb was.  "I walked into the room and didn't even see him on the couch!" We joined in.  Then we made fun of Timmy for stealing Dad's clothes.  Katie took pictures of everything.  Lauren stepped on someone's foot.  Someone spilled water.  Someone else's stocking was missing.  Aunt Pam and Mom gave Caleb a stocking they had filled for him so he would have something to open on Christmas.  Caleb gave me a brand new, bright white, beautiful North Face jacket.  I patted him.  Dad started cleaning up all the wrapping paper.  Mom called from the kitchen to make sure he didn't throw away an instruction manuals.  Dad called the kids to get all their stuff or else it might get thrown away.  Grandma disappeared with her gifts before the kids could break them.  

Our first "real" picture together. Yikes.

My eyes were eNORmous. WHAT did he just say?!?! Not that I'm a prude or easily offended, but I'm he had NEVER said ANYthing like that before, and this was certainly not an appropriate time to be asking such a question.  Besides, I didn't even know what he meant?! "I'm sorry… What did you say?"  Caleb repeated "Do y'all use safe sex?"  I looked over at my mom.  Was I hearing this right? Is he about to go into this right here, right now, in the middle of family Christmas, with children all around? My mom was BRIGHT red, rolling in her wooden chair, with her hand over her mouth.  "I know what you think he said! AAAh! HAhahah!"  Well, yes, I know what I think he said, too.  And I'm fantastically confused.  Caleb had no idea what I thought he said.  And I had no idea what he really said!  And mom was laughing too hard to be of any help to either of us!  "Sacks! Do we save sacks! Ah! HAhahahaha!"  Caleb turned back to me "Yes, do y'alls save sacks?"

Then I let loose with my giggling.  Caleb still didn't know what was so funny. His ears were turning redder by the moment.  When we calmed down enough to explain it to him, he become sickly white.  I thought he was going to faint.  Poor little Christian boy.  Just trying to help.  He couldn't stop repeating over and over and over that that is not what he said.  "Sacks! Like bags!  I said 'sacks!' I promise! Sacks!"  I know, Caleb, I know.  Don't worry.  It's perfectly fine.  Just not what we were expecting.  

I loved how innocent he was.  I wondered if he knew how rare that quality was in a 20-something man.  The rest of the trip was lovely.  We took the little kids to the playground one afternoon.  It was the first moment on the entire trip where I felt like I saw the real Caleb.  We split up into teams and played tag.  A few kids wandered up and watched us play.  You know how little children are when they are shy?  We asked them if they wanted to play and they said no, but clearly they were dying to join in the fun.  Caleb finally stopped and told them "You can be on my team."  He ran them through the rules.  "Base is on the slide, you can't touch the mulch, jail is on the picnic bench." He was bent over with his hands on his knees and the little boys still had to look up to meet his eyes.  They nodded their little buzzed heads and scampered off.  Caleb counted really, really loud to let everyone know that time-out was over.  And the playground was released to be crazy once again.  Kids ran, Caleb jumped and chased, I played but mostly watched Caleb.  It was a wonderful hour or so.  We also went to Busch Gardens together (last time I had gone my dad interrupted his lunch to talk to Caleb on the phone!).  The little kids loved competing over who would get to sit next to Caleb on the roller-coasters.  He so easily, patiently and happily payed attention to them.  He didn't make snide remarks about them behind their backs, he didn't try to shuttle ourselves away from them to get a break, he didn't ever snap or respond harshly to them.  Instead, he joined in their theme-park pleasure and bet one of my brothers "a big chicken basket" if he could ride a huge coaster with his hands up the whole time.  

I've always always always always loved this moment.  I'm so glad I took a picture of it.  But even if I hadn't, I would have never forgotten it.

For every abnormally impressive quality of Caleb's, I had a somewhat odd concern.  He really struggled to have long conversations in person.  He also sounded like a script.  I'd tease him and tell him that I knew there was more he was thinking than what he was saying.  If I'd ask him a question he would sit quietly and think for a long time (sometimes minutes) before he would answer.  He truly looked like a deer in headlights, or like a toddler caught red-handed, but he wasn't in danger! Or in trouble!  I kept wanting him to relax and "open up" (to use a term from The Bachelorette.)  Despite his trepidation and strangeness, we still spent our nights talking late into the night… just at a much, much slower pace than I was used to.  

What I didn't know was that he was hounded internally with questions.  Questions about me - the way I acted, what I listened to, what I joked about, the loud-crazy-ness of my family.  Questions about his own convictions, questions about facts versus feelings, questions about what he was supposed to, questions about God's will and how he was supposed to know it.  Questions about Taylor Swift.  Questions about social skills, sense of humor and personality.  Questions about different beliefs, opinions and what is "right."  My family was so different from his own, yet welcomed him like a brother.  I was so bold and forthright, and he felt so trapped and unsure (when it came to worldview and conviction.  Because he felt bold and forthright about his interest in me, while I felt quite unsure.)  

I remember sitting in our living room on the last night of his trip watching him work through a thought he was trying to explain to me and I thought "There are things about this man that no human has ever known.  He doesn't even know.  He isn't hiding anything. He's figuring out everything. And nothing would go against his safe, nervous, calculated decision making process than abruptly jumping on a plane to chase after a girl that he isn't *sure* he's supposed to marry.  This is huge for him.  And he's trying. He's trying so hard.  I want to know what is going on in there. I want to know what he's feeling and thinking.  I wish I could understand. I want to know him."

This picture describes our relationship at the time very well: cute, stiff and a little blurry ;)

We were drawn to each other, despite what would seem like weird "chemistry" or "connection."  It wasn't effortless and lingering and flawless witty banter followed by deep, heart-pouring.  We had to be very patient with each other.  We both really weren't sure what was going on.  But we both had that "something," "whatever it is" (Zac Brown Band anyone?) that kept us fascinated.  And we also were fiercely committed to family being central, critical and blissful in our current and future lives.  We loved to talk to each other about our families, our dreams for our future families, our best memories with our families, our lessons we've learned from families, and so on.  It was our strongest point of compatibility ;)

That final night we talked until I fell asleep.  He snapped a picture, tucked me in and went to his bed for a couple hours.  We woke up at about 4:30 am to make my 6:50 am flight.   He smelled like cream cheese and hair gel.  I  looked like cream cheese and hair gel (white and pasty?).  We both smashed our possessions into luggage.  While it was still dark we silently and sleepily rode to the airport.  I said good-bye to my parents.  He shook hands.  

As we checked in for our different flights (me back to Maryland, he back to Oklahoma) I bragged to him about my many, many travels.  "Oh yeah, I was first on an airplane when I was six months old.  I've been flying ever since. I fly allllll the time.  I know all about airports.  Here, let me help you."  He tried to make fun of me and my pride, but I bulldozed right over him.  "You'll pick it up pretty quick as you start to travel more.  It's super easy."  He just smiled quietly and nodded his head.  He hadn't learned to fight back with me yet ;)  

We took our boarding passes and idly walked to security.  Once there I knew just what to do.  Shoes off, laptop out, jacket off, in the boxes, carry on up! Boom!  Caleb fiddled and looked around and asked questions and had too many grey boxes.  "What do I need to take out? Do I have to take my belt off?"  I zipped around like an arrogant bumble bee showing him how it was done.  

As his bag went through the conveyer belt I noticed the officer call for a bag check.  Oh dear.  They took Caleb over into the corner and waved a wand up and down him, then patted him down.  His dear eyes looked worried, and he was genuinely confused, but so genuinely wanted to be helpful and honest.  Oh dear dear man.  The officer pulled out a pocket-knife (one of Caleb's stocking stuffers.)  Caleb sadly had to have it thrown away ("But Mikey gave it to me!  I love it!").  Once we were free to go, and re-assembled we charged to my gate.  I was the first flight of the day and there was no plane at Gate C21 yet.  We settled into two side-by-side chairs and reflected on the weekend.  We measured our hands to each others (obviously without touching them even slightly!!!) I asked him if he had more pocket knives in his sack.  He glared at me and said he'd dump a bucket of chicken on my head.  I occasionally would check back to see if my plane had pulled up yet (it hadn't) so we continued on, lost in conversation (for the first time on the whole trip.)  I was starting to dread this whole good-bye thing.  We were getting into a groove!  This was wonderful!  He's wonderful! I like what's happening! How are we going to leave each other?  He doesn't hug me… or touch me… or anything.  He doesn't even say 'I like you.'  This will be special.

"Hey, did you just hear your name?"  I stopped talking.  "That sounded like 'Kristen Snyder.'" I listened but didn't hear anything at all.  "No? I don't think so?"  We decided Caleb had been hearing things.  I decided to use the restroom.  I walked down the terminal while Caleb waited with my things.  I felt airy and lovely and light.  Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror.  Wow.  I looked like spinach with mold on it.  Ragged and bumpy?  I easily found an empty stall, entered it and locked the latch.  

Waiting for that plane to come up on the left ;) Just a waiting and a waiting.... ;)

"Well, young lady, you got here with seconds to spare."  A droplet of sweat slid behind my ear as I handed her my boarding pass.  I looked back and saw Caleb still running.  She scanned the paper and opened the door for me to enter the plane. "Hurry, hurry… everyone is waiting on you, Miss Snyder!" I walked into the walkway and looked back one last time.  Caleb had finally caught up.  I waved good-bye.  He stood there and stared.  "Hurry, Miss Snyder!"  The door closed.  And our trip was officially over.  Without so much as a word.

(to be continued...)

Enjoy Writing | Oh My My My | Part 7

rough seas, 

they carry me wherever i go

josh ritter - change of time

a view from my christmas eve run in florida

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

After I coached a basketball game, my dad asked me about my trip.  As I sipped Wendy's chili from a spoon,  I raved.  He re-stated his prediction.  "Caleb will be in touch tonight." I cowered.  "If you had such a great time, why are you so upset that he'd want to talk to you?"  BECAUSE I DIDN'T HAVE A GREAT TIME WITH HIM DAD!  I had a great time with his family!  And friends!  And property! He was actually a little weird.  Dad laughed.  I wanted to smack him.  Or myself. Bzzzzt.  Bzzzzt. 

driving the team bus home after an away game.  i left oklahoma monday morning and went straight to school to coach.  that is the same sweatshirt i wore while i held a goat ;)

And there it was.  A Facebook message from Caleb on my iPhone notifications.  My dad shook his head at me and leaned back in his seat.  My starting forwards and point guard were going back for another frosty. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.  He's gone on and e-mailed me. Oh dear. I herded my little matching team to the bus.  I needed to get home. While we drove, my mind quivered. I hated that Caleb had Facebook messaged me.  Don't get me wrong, I was flattered.  Honored, even.  I knew how seriously "pursuing a girl" was for Caleb.  And, as silly as it might seem, I knew a Facebook message was indeed "pursuing" me.  Hitting on me.  Whatever.  He liked me.  And he was finished with warm-ups and ready to get moving.  

my team at wendy's - with no clue how emotional their coach was ;)

Monday and Tuesday were very strange, emotional days. "He's a great guy, it's okay to give him a chance.  Good Ness, Kristen, he's a great guy… and you could break his heart!  You don't even like him. You're a complete, utter, flabby-stomached jerk.  You're going to hurt everyone.  Probably even him.   But, that's between him and God.  God doesn't promise to keep us from broken hearts.  He promises to always be good to us.  Caleb is a really, really good guy.  There is NO way I can do this.  But why am I so torn?  If I don't want to talk to a guy, I just… don't talk to him.  Do I want to talk to Caleb?  Oh my gosh.  I think I do.  I can't.  Oh my gosh." 

Though many people would argue that having different guys romantically or emotionally involved in your life is "giving away pieces of your heart," my experience was that it built my heart into the joy of God like nothing else has ever done.  Obviously it would seem be ideal to never be hurt by a relationship and to have the first guy work out the first time (and for some people, that is exactly what God has planned!), but I'm so very grateful for my "boy history."  By that day in December 2010 I had only had a grand total of two boyfriends for 22 days, combined.  Yeah.  Impressive.  But those two relationships (and the other boys who came into my life but I didn't date) taught me some life-changing lessons.  Namely:  to find an genuine-not-game-playing, happy, family-oriented, fun, single, attractive man who was not only eager to be a husband, but also a father; who loved family and wanted his entire life, ministry, career and walk with the Lord to be walked out in and for family, for his wife and children.  I lost much sleep over "finding a man" who didn't see children as a hindrance to our married joy, but as something he wanted to pursue happily!  I lost much sleep over wondering how a girl can know when a guy who likes her isn't charming her with lies, one-liners and fake religion.  And all of a sudden, there was a Caleb Morris in my inbox. Hm.
By Wednesday he had gotten in touch with my dad (the obvious and only next step in "pursuing" a girl) to ask permission to talk with me.  My dad said something to the effect of "If you'd like to talk to my daughter, you'll have to ask her!"  It was almost 11:00 pm that night.  I could hear the siding of my apartment "crack" in the wind.  My Christmas tree lived in the windows, housing a city of lights.  Cars occasionally rolled by.  I lay my phone on the other side of the room and watched it. My neighbor turned off her light. My cell phone illuminated and shook.  There was a man, sitting on a bottom bunk-bed on a farm, with a pounding heart, calling a girl for his first time ever.  And there was a girl who was about to answer.

"Hello!"  "Um, Hi.  This is Caleb Morris." "Mmm, yes.  I know. Haha.  My dad told me you'd be calling."  "Well, yes… I just spoke with him and wanted to know if it'd be alright with him and mostly you but him too! Alright if I got to know you a little bit more.  And it's not official or like we're dating or anything like that.  Well, if that's what God has it might eventually be that… Just now we're talking.  If you want to.  Your dad said I should ask you.  And we'll pray and see what the Lord has for us.  But just build a friendship now.  If you want. It's okay if not.  But, I hope you do. Want. To talk."

I squeezed my eyes and bit my entire lip.  I thought he was the most adorable, nervous little beaver I'd ever heard.  Typically when a guy makes "this" call, I'd be a little reserved and wait for them (or rather, give them a chance) to start the conversation.  I'm a talker and have no trouble filling in the silences, so I'd really try to not bulldoze the guy by jumping right in.  But with Caleb I thought it was necessary.  I told him we could talk.  And get to know each other.  And I started right into a little re-cap of the weekend.  What fun it was!  He affirmed the sentiment, very politely and very accent-y.  Cute phone voice.  I like.  I hadn't noticed that voice this way in Oklahoma.  Then Caleb had a perfectly normal "get to know you" question. Not. "So, when you have children, you want to homeschool them, right?"  Ha! Oh boy.  This could get ugly real quick, I thought.  He's looking to get married in eight weeks and I ain't what he's looking for, honey pie.  I don't think he has any idea what he's getting into by crushing on me. 

I was sure that my scandalous answer about being willing and eager to consider many schooling options would send him running away.  But the truth was, I feel that the Bible leaves freedom for a parent to decide how to school his child, from homeschool, to private school, to christian school to public school!  I could never make a blanket statement that I would or would not do any of those four options, because I just don't know what life and God might hold.  He seemed a little taken aback, but he listened and asked questions.  He said "Yeah. Yeah. Hm. Yeah." a lot. We ended up talking for over an hour and a half.  Not bad! Not bad at all for a first phone call ever!  I wouldn't say the conversation was marvelous, or even particularly fun.  Caleb was jumping right into the serious questions, and we barely knew

the lovely view i had while i waited for caleb to call :D

The next night he asked if he could call again.  He'd ask before he'd call.  I decided that even if nothing happened with Caleb, I was going to have to find myself one of these gentlemanly country boys.  We talked on Thursday night for nearly three hours.  These conversations were fairly thick.  He talked the experience of watching his brother die.  I talked about my mother's cancer.  He asked me about my convictions regarding debt.  I asked him pointed questions about leadership and "male and female roles."  We were very different people, I came to find out.  At the same time, we actually got along well!  Our disagreements were notably fun to talk through and "debate."  I felt free to speak my mind, and I think he was a little overwhelmed but intrigued.  But I was skeptical.  And extremely fearful. 

Friday was the day that changed everything.  I couldn't talk to him anymore.  It was too much.  Too much was on the line.  He's so serious.  I don't want to hurt him, or anyone else.  We're not in too far, yet.  No one is attached.  Two phone calls?  That's nothing.  To be clear, I also really thought I felt a conviction that I needed to stop talking with him.  This might cause you to go "huh?"  But it's true.  And maybe silly.  But I was a mess.  I cried all day.  I talked with my parents.  I wasn't at peace.  I felt terrible.  I spent the entire day in fetal position going from bed to floor to couch to bed again.  My body felt like I had eaten cotton-batting (the fluff used to stuff pillows.) 

I called him that night to tell him I didn't want to talk anymore.  He was floored.  He was not expecting to hear those words.  Clearly.  Who would be?  If a guy did that to me I would have considered him quite the jerk.  I knew I was a jerk.  Caleb fought my decision.  He pressed in at every angle he could.  The more he pressed, the more sure of my decision I was, and the more it broke my heart.  Every sigh.  Every "Kristen.  Oh Kristen."  Every long silence.  Every "Well. I guess." followed by more silence.  It was like a hippopotamus doing jumping rope inside.  I pounded.  I'm so sorry.  I really am.  I tried to tell you that I was crazy.  We eventually hung up.  The good-bye rung in my ears.  How could this possibly feel so much like a break-up!  This is nothing, woman!  Get yourself together!  This was the right decision, right?  I felt terrible.  Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do.    

a heart-breaking text... when he texted to ask if we could talk that night, i answered "yes, we need to actually.  and it might not be the most fun conversation ever."  i screen-capped his response :(

 I listened to Taylor Swift.  A lot.  "So here I am in my new apartment, in a big city.  They just dropped me off.  It's so much colder than I thought it would be, so I tuck myself in and turn the nightlight off.  Oh, I don't wanna grow up. Wish I'd never grown up and could still be little.  Oh, darling, just stay little.  Don't you ever grow up, it could stay so simple."

I kept my word and didn't communicate with Caleb.  Not a single Facebook "like" or break-down text.  Shortly I flew to Florida to spend the holidays with my family.  I needed my mommy.  And my kiddos.  And some food that would make me fat and happy.  The first night home I constructed a gingerbread house, played games with the not-so-Littles and watched TV. 

The next day was Christmas Eve, so to give mom some time to finish her wrapping and prepare the holiday festivities, my dad and I took four of the kids out to Busch Gardens for the day.  They told me all kinds of stories, jokes and most-likely made up roller coaster statistics.  I was struggling to engage with them.  I had to work hard to not zone them out, wondering about Caleb.  I knew he was heading out of state for Christmas.  They are probably on the road now, I thought.  But! Yes! I'm here! And with them! Okay! Who wants to ride SheikRa?!  We spent the day collecting germs, riding machines, looking at tropical animals and eating trash.  It was bliss.  During our late lunch, my dad took a call.  The kids went to the bathroom to wash their hands.  I scrolled through pictures of Caleb. Ouch. 

my view from our lunch table in "the middle east" ;)

We left Busch Gardens "early" (we are "that" family that opens and closes theme parks) to get to Christmas Eve Service.  I decided to take a quick run through the neighborhood before church.  The night was cool and breezy, and the run really was quick, so I wash-cloth washed in the bathroom and got dressed for church.  The chili was simmering away (apparently this part of the story was brought to you by: Chili, the food of the crazed).  The darkness of night hid Florida's obvious un-Christmas scenery.  We all put on coats and scarves (it's CHRISTMAS, after all!) and went to the candlelight service.

most of our faces at busch gardens

these guys make my skin crawl

In the meantime, Caleb had completed his miserable 17-hour drive.  He wanted to call me and wish me a Merry Christmas!  He wanted to hear how it was to be with my family.  He just wanted to say hi.  He could barely sleep in the car.  He struggled to join in with the holiday merriment.  He was sad.  Plain and simple.  He was confused.  He was tired.  And he felt sparks. 

When we arrived home, mom scooped chili and bowls clanged while hungry hungry kiddos lined up for their serving.  "Dad! Dad! Can we pleaaaaase open a present tonight? Just ONE? Pleeeease dad?"  "Ask your mother."  "Mooom! Pleeaaase? Please?  Just ONE, one little tiny present? Please?"  "I already told you no.  You have to wait just ooooone more night, and then you can open everything."  Dad interjected.  "Okay, I've made a decision.  One kid can open one present.  Who do you think should open one?"  They kids all clamored and jumped up and down and nominated themselves.  Dad smirked.  I filled my chili bowl.  Oh dad.  He's always up to something.  I looked up and mom was staring at me.  Then dad started to walk towards me, smiling. Um. Yes?

Dad handed me his cell-phone.  "Merry Christmas."  I was confused.  "You're giving my your Blackberry?"  The kids were disappointed.  "Read it." 

I looked at his screen, which was opened to a string of texts. 

Caleb Morris: Great Mr. Snyder. Thank you so much.  My flight lands at 10:35 pm and is coming from Nashville to Tampa.  Hopefully you can track it if there are any delays.  Thank you again! I can't wait to meet you, and to see Kristen.

Alan Snyder: Yup.  See you later tonight. Fly safe.

To be continued...   

Enjoy Writing | Oh My My My | Part 6

the black clouds i'm hanging
this anchor i'm dragging
the white caps of memory
confusing and violent
josh ritter - change of time

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 

After shouting for and whistling at all the fourteen Morris family members, we finally ventured outside to begin the shoot.  I had a brilliant plan to take all the pictures, and then release the oldest boys to carry on with their oh-so-important Saturday plans.  After they left I'd conduct my "interview" with the rest of the children and specifically the Mr. and Mrs.  I wanted to ask questions and pick their brains and hear their story in their owns words.  But the twins didn't need to stick around for that.  I happily leaped across the driveway out to a sunny fence and began positioning faces and checking exposure.  The kids were quiet and responsive.  After I was content with the number of group shots I had taken, I really wanted to spend some alone time with Terry and Cindy.  I took the two of them up near the barn and instructed them like it was an engagement shoot.  "Alright!  The closer and cuddlier you are, the better!  Feel free to touch and kiss and goof around as much as you want!"  Terry kicked his foot into the ground "Man, I like that sound of THAT!"  Cindy smiled with her whole face.  It didn't take long to discover that Terry was infatuated with his bride.  He was staring, caressing, squeezing, smooching and staring more at his girl.  I was fascinated.  Often I find older, long-married couples to have a comfort-level, a rhythm, a unity, a strength that newlyweds just don't have.  But it's marvelous to watch a man literally leaping and wooping with joy over his wife of 24 years.   "Wow.  Not many girls find a guy like that," I thought to myself.  I was taken aback.  For the next thirty minutes they twirled, laughed, sat on straw and smooched.  

When the shoot was finished the dew had melted off the pick-up trucks and wire fences.  The littlest children had play-dates with grasshoppers and chickens.  The mister and missus with whichever children wanted to participate planned on letting me interview them.  That sounds intense.  Planned on letting me talk with them. Ask them questions.  I wanted to hear from the parents about their story.  I wanted to hear from their children about their marriage.  The oldest boys were released to leave at this point.  They had houses waiting to be built.  "Thank you so much for taking pictures!  We're going to do a little interview thing now, so you boys are welcome to leave.  I know you have some work to do," I prompted as we funneled inside. Caleb interjected "Oh! No, it's fine.  We don't have to leave now.  We have plenty of time."  It was the second thing he'd ever said to me.  

The whole family gathered around for a time of sharing and speaking.  I studied Mr. Morris' body language. His hand was on his wife's knee.  His hand around her back.  He scooted as close as he could to her.  His body was turned her direction.  When she perhaps was a little weepy, his thumb rubbed her knuckles.  It was a beautiful time I will never forget.  Once the "interview" was done, and in keeping with all the midwest hospitality I'd heard about, there was an offer to stay for hamburgers.  That didn't work with the schedule, I apologized.  But before I headed to POPS and a day with Dre and Becca, I flew through the wind and red dirt roads on a 4-wheeler.  I almost killed a Morris daughter who rode with me.  No one told me the brakes on the vehicle were BROKEN.  We truly missed a dangerous crash by a hair.  But gracious, it was fun.  My smile was huge.  My heart was full.  I felt strangely close to this whole family.  After a few hours I really, really loved them.  But I had things to do, and it was time to leave.  After a few jokes about the phrase "y'all" and firm hugs, I left the Morris Farm.  The entire afternoon and evening was spent with my favorite funny little couple, eating burgers and wandering downtown Guthrie.  

See my snazzy thin, wide bangs?

Within 24 hours I was back in Maryland, but after my trip to Oklahoma I certainly found myself with sweet new friends - even Facebook said so. Mrs. Morris and I kept in touch frequently (she is quite the texter!). Mrs Morris had actually even invited me over for volleyball after church the day I left.  My flight prohibited that get-together from happening.  She insisted that I come back again.  I honestly wanted to.  Happy, large families are rare to come by, but they feel like home to me. 

As the weeks went on I was asked over and over to come visit.  I loved that the Morris' constantly had friends over.  Just a fast look at their blog showed friends (and strangers-turned-friends) at their house nearly weekly.  I didn't find it odd or suspicious; that's just how these people are.  The final hurrah-came when Mrs. Morris invited me to her annual Christmas party (as well as other friends in the area I knew).  This single, adventurous, scheming, spontaneous girl was convinced.  After all, many near-strangers (also known as: blog friends!) had invited me all over the country and I often went.  California, New York, Atlanta, Vancouver, Las Vegas - it was common for me to shell out the dollars and take whirlwind trips to visit people I barely knew.  Accepting this invitation was perfectly normal for me, but looking back it can be hard to believe that I didn't suspect anything.  Looking back, I'll fully admit: this trip was perhaps quite bizarre, ridiculous and schemed.  At the time? It only seemed natural.

Behind the scenes, there was a shy, smitten buckaroo.  Though we barely spoke five sentences to each other, meeting me during that photoshoot stirred something in Caleb.  Because, in fact, I was right.  The day I showed up on his property, he was interested in another girl. Somehow that short morning was enough for him to want the chance to see me again.  Little did I know that those five sentences were much, much more than he usually said to a girl he first met, let alone a girl he "felt" something with.  Whether this was by accident or by design, the strict courtship methods used in his homeschool program looked down on guys walking up to a cute girl and talking to her.  Caleb loves to joke (now) about the years of making eye-contact with girls for days on end, and never speaking a word to them, but thinking he "liked" the girl.  Poor boy.  He didn't know what to do.  Or what to say.  He'd like my Facebook statuses occasionally.  He'd stalk my page daily.  But he had no idea what else to do.  Hence my invitation to the Christmas party.  Mama Morris was going to do everything in her power to get me back to that farm!  

This trip was a few weeks before Christmas.  Friday afternoon I arrived at the same Baltimore airport I had flown out from in October.  I headed to security.  The officer who reviewed my ID and boarding pass signed off his name to prove that he had indeed reviewed my information.  His last name was "Morris."  Ha! Beneath my name, "Kristen Snyder," there was now scribbled in "Morris."  Eerie? Or just kind of funny.  Regardless, again I flew to flat nothing-ness and the land of cows.  

I landed in the late afternoon with just enough time to get to the Morris' and get ready for the party.  The boys and men were all still away at work, and the women had the house looking like Miracle on 34th Street.  Desserts were baking, music was singing and the sun was setting.  Eventually the men arrived.  I greeted everyone, but I don't remember seeing or even saying anything to Caleb.  He says he couldn't wait to see me, but when he did he didn't know what to say.  A gaggle of girls crowded into a small bedroom lined with bunkbeds.  We arranged our hairs and painted our faces and smoothed the cloth on our bodies.  Caleb was a few doors down picking out his horrid outfit for the evening.  A pair of light wash jeans with a black Under Armour cropped turtleneck tucked into his jeans with a belt.  He wanted to show off his muscles.

Before long guests were at the door and the party began.  Hello's, hugs, unveiling of treats, prayers and conversation followed.  We played holiday games, sang holiday songs and partook in holiday cheer.  It was a night where time flew and also stood still.  I forgot there was a whole world outside the decorated walls.  I fought in giggles during inappropriate times - I was so amused by it all.  I met some lovely, disgustingly sweet, and adorably accented people.  I won the free-for-all-Spoons-game at the end of the night by tackling one of the guys and grabbing the spoon out of his hands.  As Friday evening turned into Saturday morning I was sent outside to go "snipe hunting."  I knew it was a prank, but I couldn't resist.  That night the nickname "Snipe" was coined.  The Morris' love their nicknames.  I had received a badge of honor.  I thought one of the Morris' friends was cute.  When my dad asked how the trip was going I told him about the friend.  "I think he likes somebody else.  All the cute, good guys do."  Aside from thinking his shirt was just ridiculous, I don't remember much of Caleb at all that night.  Apparently we talked for a little bit, but I couldn't tell you what we said if it would save my grandmother's life.  Caleb felt sparks.

Some of the dudes with their White Elephant gifts.  Caleb has a lovely neck for a jewelry! ;)

The next morning is a bit of a blur.  By the afternoon we were out in the fields dirt-biking.  Let me elaborate: we were in the COW fields dirt-biking.  Where there were cows.  In the field. With us.  Were the cows.  There were probably ten of us kids out there and I was the first to ride a bike.  I strapped my helmet on and sailed away in clueless but prideful glory.  My heart was racing.  I should have asked more questions.  I'm going to die in a field.  Cows are going to stomp on me. Everyone is going to laugh when I crash.  I want to go faster.  I know I'm breaking this bike.  Turning is scary.  I was as stiff as startled baby while I rode.  Caleb thought it was adorable.  

When I finished my ride (accident free) Caleb wanted to get on and impress me.  I wanted to go inside and check my phone.  Signal wasn't great out there, but maybe a few texts slipped in.  I don't remember watching Caleb ride, but I do remember talking to his brothers while he was gone.  They were much more talkative and charming than he was.  All of a sudden everyone was screaming and running while mud flew and an engine roared! Caleb nearly smashed into us all.  It would have been hilarious if he'd been on roller skates.  But it made my heart tremble.  I am going to die in a field.  Caleb passed off the bike to another brother and tried to make small-talk with me.  He was getting a little desperate.  As we flitted through words and comments an alarming reality approached. 


The cows were all done with the field.  The wanted to kill us dirt-bike-riding-disruptive-hooligans!  They were charging.  All five or size or 12,000 of them.  Cows move quicker than you'd think.  I started yelling for everyone to take shelter behind the face.  The dust behind the cows was building.  Visions of the stampede in The Lion King galloped through my brain and beating heart.  No one was listening to me.  I ran like a banshee past the barn and clumsily crawled over the tall metal fence.  Most of the Morris' just stared back at me.  One of the sweet girls tried to assure me that it was alright.  I needn't worry.  They won't hurt us.  That's probably what everyone says before they're speared to death by cattle.  One of the brothers, Tig, laughed and laughed and laughed.  Lije jumped in.  "If you want to run away from a cow, you have to run in tight circles! Really, really, really tight circles." I practiced behind the fence.  I was spinning like Tara Lipinski's double axle.  "No, Snipe!  You're not moving!  You still have to run!  Just in circles!" They laughed and I decided to take a little break from the cows and machines inside.  It was glorious. And they all thought this worried "city girl" was a hoot.  Caleb thought I was hot.

The rest of the weekend was filled with meeting more friends, going to the movies with the whole gang, late night McDonald's trips, volleyball, seeing the land and beginnings of homes the twins were building, holding goats on the couch, four-wheeling through wild hog territory, touring a deserted Oklahoma City in the dead of night, Sunday School, Pizza Hut, and ice-skating.  

All the while Caleb was trying desperately to get to know me better.  Why is it that men just adore girls who have no interest in them?  It's quite silly.  The more I kept busy with other people and activities, the harder he tried to be around.  But when he did have me for a moment (say, next to me during a car ride) he couldn't think of one blessed question to ask.  I'd tease him and carry right along, thinking nothing of it. I teased everyone.  I loved everyone.  It was one of the best weekends of my life.

The night before I left (Sunday night) it finally dawned on me.  All weekend I had missed, chosen to ignore, or talked myself out of believing that Caleb had a little thing for me.  But as a caravan of three trucks with nearly a dozen boisterous young adults pulled into a closed McDonalds, everything changed.  We had planned to get one last ice cream for the weekend, but since the Golden Arches had shut down for the night, we decided to go buy some BlueBell and eat back on the farm.  Caleb and his friend were riding in a old-yet-perfect manual-shift pick-up truck.  I was in a different truck.  At McDonalds Caleb got out of the stick-shift truck and headed towards mine.  In a split-second I jumped out of my truck and ran into the stick-shift truck with Caleb's friend.  The friend and I sat there, waiting for everyone else to load up.  I promised the friend I could drive very very carefully and well.  He believed me.  I said something funny, and the friend laughed.  Then all of a sudden the friend was gone, and Caleb was in the passenger seat beside me.  Caleb looked at me with huge, shocked, silent eyes and jumped out of the truck.  I was alone in the driver side of the bench seat.  The friend pushed Caleb back into the truck.  Caleb popped up a second time and I heard multiple "No! No! Nooo!"s.  The friend fought back.  "Dude, GET in the TRUCK."  "I can't, stop it, I can't," Caleb waged.  "Yes you can! Get. In. The. Truck!" in a very Noah-telling-Allie-to-swing-on-the-rope-into-the-swimming-hole voice.  Caleb wasn't going down easy.  He pushed the friend (we'll call this nameless friend "Tyler") into the car next to me and sheepishly sliding in afterwards.  The three of us sat in a split-second of squished, stunned silence.  And then the rest of the trucks started pulling out, so I got into driving-mode.  Keep the brake down.  Turn the key. Put it in reverse. Release clutch. Gah.  Tyler's shoulders were overlapping mine.  His knees were touching the steering wheel.

"Hey Snipe!  I need to get some gas in this ol' thing.  Pull in here!" Tyler was making his move, he had Caleb's back.  As I pulled into the gas station, Tyler got his wallet out.  When I stopped, he made Caleb get out of the car to let himself out.  While Tyler pumped gas, Caleb got back in with me.  We sat in silence.  I knew what was happening.  I knew Tyler knew.  I knew everybody knew.  I knew Caleb knew I knew.  How could I not?  He followed me all weekend.  He somehow managed to hold my hand every time we did chains on the ice-skating rink.  He was never more than one seat away.  Of course, Kristen.  He crashed his dirt bike in front of you!  Tyler inched back into the truck.  A much slimmer, perfect-postured, blonde boy was next to me now.  I was confused on how this happened.  I wear jeans, doesn't he know?!  I watch America's Next Top Model! Because I have cable TV!  I believe in the gift of tongues today - and I argued with his father about it over dinner!  My bathroom is just a mess and I go spray-tanning and I've gone on a handful of dates with other guys!  And I hate live animals! Tyler - loud, funny, obvious Tyler - broke my stream of thoughts.  "Guys!  You have to listen to this song!  I get chills every time I hear it.  No joke, man.  It's good stuff. Good stuff."  

The song started to play.  It was a long live version, so it played for the remainder of the drive.  We all sat in the dark night, maneuvering through dirt roads.  "Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy."  "I didn't come here for this." "We are His portion and He is our prize!" "He thinks I'm a carnival show. This is nothing.  He thinks I'm literally like a merry-go-round."  "If grace is an ocean we're all sinking."  "I'm not what he's looking for."  "Whoa, how He loves us." "What is he doing? There is no way this is serious. No way."  "Yeah, He loves us! Oh! How He loves us!" "Mmm. Yes, He loves us." Kim Walker started speaking on the track: "Tonight, God wants you to feel His love, His amazing love.  Without it these are just songs, these are just words."  Tears singed my lids.  "Oh, how He loves us. Oh, how He loves. Yeah, He loves us!"  I breathed heavy and hung on every word.  I think I even sang along.  Actually, I know I did.  And I didn't care or even realize I wasn't in the car alone.  I can't really explain it other than to say that I knew God was near to me.  I all of a sudden felt very overwhelmed with fears and impending failure.  "God, please help him not be serious.  He's not serious.  I know he's not serious.  He thinks I'm a carnival show!  Like a sparkly, noisy attraction for children.  Not anything serious."  We made the turn onto their gravel driveway and I was thrilled.  I determined to shut off my mind and dream this little predicament away.  The kids and friends rallied inside, hollering about "Cookies and cream? Or chocolate?" I shuttle myself into the bedroom and texted my dad.  I stayed in bed the rest of the night.  I'd be leaving at 6:30 am in the morning.  I don't have to see Caleb again.  I didn't say good-night or good-bye or even eat any Bluebell Ice Cream.  I vanished from the promising evening, full of worry.

In Oklahoma City for the afternoon - before I realized Caleb liked me ;)

When I woke up the next morning and headed home to Maryland I drearily told my parents and friends the news.  "I think Caleb likes me."  I was frustrated with myself.  I really didn't want to hurt him - I didn't want to hurt anyone! Like I wrote before, my post-high-school years were almost strangely filled with relational hurt.  Me being hurt by people, and me hurting other people.  I was burnt out.  And I didn't want to even think about "the situation," or even the possibility of there being hurt because of me.  I'm the sort of girl that cries about turning guys down - and I don't cry about anything.  My stomach turns when I think about relationships being ruined.  I hate when relationships are ruined.  My heart aches.  I believe God "makes all things new."  That He "redeems and He restores."  But for the most part, the big friendship fall-outs I've witnessed or been a part of have never been "like the used to be."  That's probably okay, but it's still hard.  And my head, heart and smile had been so free, so full, so genuinely happy all weekend long, without a care in the world.  I was so happy.  And now I was afraid it was going to "all be ruined."

My dad told me that Caleb would get in touch with me within two days.  I lied to myself and said he'd never e-mail.  It was nothing.  Within two hours I had a Facebook message.


(to be continued...)

Enjoy People | Three Best Friends | Child Lifestyle Photography

“this is what youth must figure out:
girls, love, and living.
the having, the not having,
the spending and giving,
and the meloncholy time of not knowing."
e.b. white

By now you all surely must know Audrey, Edith Grace and Little Behr.  Their mama's are best friends. The girls are sisters.  Behr thinks Edith's legs are chicken wings, and Audrey's hair is spag-het-TI! (in an exaggerated Italian accent.)  Audrey tells stories about how Behr got into the "lotion," even though she herself has white, dried up yogurt-crust on her arms and cheeks.  These three live a mere eighth of a mile from each other.  I don't think they are going to get married to each other.  I think they're just going to be the best of friends.  

Behr already has a patience for these girls that he doesn't have with anyone else.  Audrey can decorate him.  Edith can wail beside him.  Audrey can accidentally land her jump on him.  Edith can be in his way when he rolls over.  He just sits there like a sleepy lump.  Edith, on the other hand, almost gets worn out by these two.  She tunes them out, I think.  She's the voice of reason.  Audrey is the instigator and the schemer.  She reminds me of this line from E.B. White's Stuart Little: "He was quite warm from the exertion of being Chairman of the World. It had taken more running and leaping and sliding than he had imagined.”  Ah, yes, Audrey.  The little Chairman.  It's not easing being in charge of the world!

I love watching their little friendships begin.  Please don't hate each other too much when pimples, driver's ed, BO and ugly nail polish are your worlds.  Just be awkward best friends, okay guys?

"TiTi! Watch! Audrey jumpin'!"

Behr's "concerned" face is one of my favorites.

Audrey: "Baaaaby Behr kickin'! You kickin' Behr?"

Audrey: Deese for you Behr! Pink glasses!

Behr: [concerned face]

Edith: Oh my gosh. Calm down. And those are green glasses.

Behr: Okay, f'real Audrey, I'm not wearing your girlie shades. No way.

Audrey: Hahahaha! Behr bein' silly, TiTi!

Behr: No, I'm being concerned!

Audrey: It's pretty Behr! Pretty pink glasses!

Behr: "No" is no, and that's final.  It's very serious!

Behr: Oh dear. Auuuuuudrey. This is not good.

Edith: You two.

Behr: But... I... don't... want... them!

Audrey: Pretty pink glasses! For sun'n'errands! Errands Behr? At stores? And Target?

Behr: Hey TiTi, would you get a load of this? Wanna help a boy out?

Behr: No? Alright.  I'll take matters into my own hands. HALT!

Behr: I will dissolve your womanly wear with my super saliva!

Behr: Oh. This is just delicious. Mmmm. Yes.

Edith: Zzzzzz

One of our favorite Behr-isms is the way he rounds his legs and "clasps" his feet together.  He'll wiggle them together and then flail! and kick! and celebrate! followed by his feet "holding hands."  It's so precious.

Pretty girl.

This picture is how I will remember Behr and Audrey as little friends.

The mister has been teething for almost two months and his teef haven't popped up yet.  Apparently the leopard slap bracelet felt incredible on his sore gums.

(^ that's not an upset-with-Audrey face... that's just his "Hmmm, this tasted different than I was expecting" face.  Probably like what we do for lemon slices, or oversalted foods :)

Her saggy top-knot.  His ARMS.  Her yellow romper.  His ARMS.

Fascinating what a few weeks can do, huh?

I love these next pictures of "tummy time."  (Audrey feels left out of the baby activities sometimes?)

(Um. Behr's arms!)

If the next three images had a title they would be: Big Sister Whispers While Cleaning Up CrayonsBefore NapTime.  (It could use some work.)

"Night night, Eedif."

Copious Project | Behind The Scenes

"when you're curious,
you find lots of interesting things to do."
walt disney 
The world is a fun little place.  At Alt Summit I met a fascinating and bright woman named Shayna Kulik.  I started following her on twitter.  Around the beloved spring-cleaning time of year she posed a question on her twitter: "Should I sell my clothes on ebay or Copious?"  I did not know of this "Copious."  The moment I went to the website I knew I was hooked.  In the next 24 hours or so I had created an account with this new "social marketplace."  I blogged about it.  No one commented.  No one.  But people clicked on my store.  You all clicked enough that my little blog was bringing in the hits for Copious - at least enough for their stats-guy to notice.  
Kaitlyn Barclay, the community marketing manager, got in touch with me to be a part of the "Copious Closet."  That e-mail turned into a conversation about Copious, a few ideas I had for them and a mini brain-storm sesh.  Within days we had a Skype meeting.  A few more days and there was a trip planned.  In a matter of days Kaitlyn pulled together a full-day campaign ad shoot for Copious.  Designers, stylists, hair and make-up crew, models and a photographer from Maryland gathered together in San Francisco, just a short walk from Instagram's original studio and AT&T Park.  Curiosity and a few connections led to an incredible experience for me.  These women (and men!) are passionate, giving and motivated.  And just truly very, very kind people.  It was certainly a career highlight to be a part of this shoot!
I can't wait to reveal images from the shoot, but for now I thought it'd be fun to show you a few behind the scenes shots.  Enjoy!  And please do check out Copious... that's how this all started after all!  So, thanks everyone!  

Moral of the story?  Don't be down if your post doesn't get comments.  It just might end up being your most important post of your year! ;)


Copious Community Marketing Manager: Kaitlyn Barclay

Models: Krista Gambrel, Cara Cutter, Carole Morey and Nkechi Njaka. Stylist: Lexie TiongsonDesigner: Michael Oh + Ariel SimoneHair + Make-up: Lara Olivia + Bailey Photography: I'm KristenEdited With: VSCO FilmMy Copious Store

Enjoy Project | Southwest Knows What's Up!

"pointless play is fun."
jay heinrichs

I haven't been particularly subtle in declaring my "theme" this year.  Enjoy.  Play.  Fun.  Laugh. Enjoy. Yes.  It's been on my heart so strongly.  I've talked about blogging more (because quite simply! I enjoy blogging!), learning how to play again with my husband-to-be, group pinning and instagramming (because things are more enjoyable when shared) and more.

You can imagine my thrill when I picked up the newest "Spirit" magazine on my Southwest flight last week and the cover had a giant image of children with the colorful word "PLAY!"  I read the article on play twice.  The author wrote about children, kittens, companies introducing "recess" into their corporate work day and even some science. You should read it. It's very fun ;) Maybe this theme is on more hearts than just mine!

Enjoy my favorite quotes from the article and some of my favorite ladies at play :D






  

Enjoying People + Videos | Oh My My My Video Series

when will you learn that there isn't a word for everything?

nicole krauss

Originally I had intended to show you friends one of my all-time favorite date nights.  I had recorded some video footage during the date and yesterday I set off to make those clips a brief and jolly moving memory.

Instead, however, I looked through nearly every video in my library.  I believe in the power of a still, silent photograph, but the movement and sounds in a video... wow.  It was very emotional!

So I changed my plans.  This video is one to coincide with part four of my story "Oh My My My." If you haven't read it yet, you should catch up while it's still relatively short and then come back and watch the video ;)

If you have read up to part four, you'll enjoy 180 seconds of the green kitchen, the blue-gray house, the last few days before "the good-byes" and the official departures of both families.  I had completely forgotten that I took videos of both their moves!  It is almost uncanny to watch now knowing what has happened since then.  God is great, life is good and people are crazy ;)

Enjoy Instagram | 30 Days of April Check-In

If you haven't joined in the instagram/twitter Enjoy Project fun, you're missing out!  It's been so very fun to see all kinds of little joys: from flying kites, to training for races, to snuggling babies and making wontons!  Please join in, even once or twice.

Here's a little check-in of the fun:

Wearing: Miss Lydia donned an adorable outfit the first day of April!

Smelling: Few things beat the garlic-y, cheesy smell of simmering alfredo sauce. Good call, Ahepburnl!



Eating: Hannah Braboy enjoyed her "pocket full of sunshine" fruit.Touching: After a scare with her kitty, Lydia Jane was happy to have him home from the vet!Giving: Diehard Red-Sox fan and one of my favorite mommies says she loves "giving her son firsts."(We have a few other baseball sluggers enjoying opening week!)Hearing: With The Kooks on in the background, Ambrosiaaaa_ enjoyed her roadtrip.JC Mays has had one of my favorite EnjoyProject feeds.  But this one of her mother and hearing "her sweet voice in her head" particularly captured me.Drinking: Kelzai's picture of her daughter (years ago) melts my heart.  God is good.    Sometimes it's fun to get creative with the word of the day.  "Drinking" in the last few minutes of sunlight with my fiance'.Using: Though I'm not the biggest "dog person," these couch potatoes cracked me up ;) Loved it, LydiasPics.Looking at: Allix Ryan Brunson's bonfire picture made me salivate.  I love fire smells! And sights. And everythings.What a sweet daddy/son shot of the guys looking at mommy.

Doing: Is bowling every a bad idea? I don't think so.  Allix Ryan Brunson knows whats up!

Waiting: Sweet wifey Allie Paredes took care of the car for her guy.  That's a woman right there ;)Holding: The other night it felt incredible to "hold" onto childhood by playing foursquare until it was black outside.  NamieElle5 had a great point: "It's the small things that bring the biggest smiles."

Making: Kendall_Glab seems to be up to something fun.  Look what she's making!

   

Enjoy Weddings | A Wedding Photographer Turns Bride

"once upon a time in a faraway land, 
there was a tiny kingdom, peaceful, prosperous, 
and rich in romance and tradition."
disney's cinderella   

lydia jane

As we fell in love this summer, I was taken by aback by his ability to play.  On our first date we secretly (I timidly, he boisterously) raced through grass, climbed on window sills, and walked along the banisters of somebody else's house.  We had not asked to be there, and I was worried silly that we were going to be arrested and possibly burned at the stake for trespassing.  But my date was calling me to follow him, which intrigued me, so I did.

A few days later we took our Chipotle to a local playground.  As we ate inside a child-sized cubbyhole, with wood chips on the floor, and giant tires on the walls, we were bombarded with enemy fire. "KISSY KISSY! OOooOooo LOOOVE!" the attackers chanted.  Their weapons of choice were twigs and pebbles and fat, sticky fists to bang on the walls.  Oh, and their fat, sticky legs to run away when we made faces back at them.  Before long we found ourselves in a giant game of tag - unsure who was it, or what happened if one was tagged, or how to get untagged, or if there was a jail or a base or... even a goal!... to this game.  But we ran and sweated and horrified mothers that summer night, with squealing children provoking us.  

That was only the beginning of my rekindled (and very unexpected) affair with playing.  In my mind I imagined banter, flirting, a breakthrough long conversation (probably late at night), going to restaurants, traveling to nearby towns, maybe some picnics or hikes or nights in to watch TV.  As much as I love the Ikea scene from 500 Days of Summer, I guess I imagined moments like those as special, out-of-the-ordinary, the exception to the rule.  He took my very adult and formal and intellectual ideas about dating and rearranged those to be the exception.  Playing is my new lifestyle.  I've met my best friend, my favorite human and my play-mate.  Dancing, jumping, tackling, teasing, quoting, chasing, inventing recipes or rules for anything, laughing, imagining, dreaming, screaming while begging not to be tickled, adventuring and dilly-dallying is my life with him.   

se irritar e bom pra quam tumblr

Our wedding is going to, I'm dreaming!, make that clear.  In the least cliche' way possible, we are finding ourselves very inspired by Cinderella.  She has a stunning blend of child and queen.  She weaves seamlessly in and out of talking to animals, singing songs about visiting a castle, crafting mini-mouse wardrobes and wandering palace halls, rocking in a shimmering gown, in the arms of a real (adult) prince under the moonlight.  The carefree and the goofy meet the extravagant and the rich.

spoonflower

spoonflower

se irritar e bom pra quem? tumblr

I find it less magical when ornate luxury is only enjoyed by stuffy, better-than-thou, adults who expect nothing less and would never be caught dead barefoot in the riverbanks, snacking on Doritos and limeade.  

jose villa

jose villa

i'm kristen

Ideally we would invite those cotton-bummed playground tots (self-named Fire Blaster, Esmerelda Snowflake and Captain Cricket) to our wedding, where they would hand every guest some mulch and chase them into the bushes.  Then in the bushes they'd find an unusual wardrobe or flying fairy! And they'd emerge from the bushes dressed in silk and diamonds wondering "What just happened?"

se irritar e bom pra quem? tumblr

i'm kristen

i'm kristen

I debated on whether or not to blog our "wedding inspiration."  I don't want to kill any surprises or disappoint anyone ;) but sometimes it's hard not to share when your heart is so full.  I hope you enjoyed getting a teeny sneak peek into what is inspiring our big day!

Enjoy Weddings | Sam + Emily | Newton White Mansion

the space between us now
will all work out for good somehow.
life takes patience,
and patience takes time,but i can't get you off of my minddave barnes - adelineFebruary 21, 2009 8:57 pmSamBran: btw, my friend emily has become obsessed with your and lydia's blogsshe's mad at my for showing them to her. prime procrastination tool.Me: haha aww that's cute. blogging is fun.

We "all" (mostly Lydia and me) promised our good friend Sam that he was going to find a wife at Hillsdale College.  We just knew it.  Now, we were also convinced this wife would be a dumb blonde goof-ball that would drive him crazy.  

The first time I ever knew Emily existed was on February 21, 2009. I was told she loved mine and Lydia's blogs. On March 23, 2012 Lydia and I (and Ellie!) shot Emily's wedding to Sam.  Today she is on the blog.

I love Emily for Sam.  Sam is trivia-brilliant.  He knows a lot about a lot.  He's a reader, a thinker, a learner and a worker.  For a young guy this is good, but can also produce big heads.  Though I felt terrible for him (it really was the dumbest punishment ever) it did my heart a little good to see Sam sit through one detention our senior year of highschool.  Just to keep him humble.  Sam was my first friend as a baby (our mothers met when they were pregnant with us, and are still best friends to this day.) His family were like local cousins, or siblings that lived in a different home.  

Emily has softened him.  He's a gentler, kinder man thanks to her.  She's an incredibly capable, deep, good woman.  And not a dumb blonde ;) 

I felt like I was watching my brother get married on Friday.  If I had let myself I would have cried right on through that whole ceremony.  I've never seen Sam happier.  People say "Oh, they were so happy! They smiled all day long." No, I don't think you understand.  Sam smiled ALL. DAY. LONG.  He was smirking during prayers, grinning while singing worship songs.  Jovial, happy and sweet - I would never have called Sam "sweet."  He's sweet now. 

Emily's determination, patience, friendship and companionship is lovely. I love them together.  I loved their wedding.  I love how elegant Emily was and how gracefully she carried herself.  I loved being there.

It was a happy day.

And I'm happy for you, kids. 

---


ps. For a little walk down memory lane, here is some old school I'm Kristen and my fat "big brother."Aaaand this is the day Lyds and I met Emily! She was in town but Sam had to work so we took her around muddy hills in a random neighborhood... and a pet store.  We've gotten better at hosting since then.

Enjoy Weddings | Johnny + Kim | Small Little Church Wedding

there's nothing fancy about the way i love you

there's nothing you could not find in another man

but i love you as hard as i can

dave barnes - nothing fancy

Everyone expected snow.  "It will be so magical." If not snow, everyone hoped it at least wouldn't be too windy.  "But the inside of the church is beautiful, so if worse comes to worse we'll do our best in there."

This January wedding for childhood friends Johnny and Kim was dazzling.  The wedding was happy, quaint, genuine and tremendously precious.  Oh, and sunny - one might even have said "balmy" or perhaps "warm" at the right time.

Kim is a mysterious person.  She is intellectual, deep and quite thoughtful, but she is also reserved and soft-spoken.  Her heart is big (like her eyes), but it is not worn on her sleeve.

Kim is kind and not a flirt.  She is true and not gawdy.  But hidden behind her graceful, almost-ballerina-esque exterior, lies a cache of imagination and discovery.

Johnny had the daunting but worthwhile task of chipping away at this beautiful mind, the adventure of capturing her tender heart.

How do you go about, however, asking out your best friend?  The platonic, we'll-never-date, you're like my sibling, friendship that transitions to romantic relationship. Aaaah, that's a scary one.  The stakes are oh-so high.  The reward is oh-so great, but the risk is oh-so serious.  You could possibly lose your favorite person, or you could spend forever... with your very best friend. Whew.

Johnny took his time.  Johnny prayed.  Johnny deepened their friendship.  Kim started to have that age-old "hmmm." Johnny still waited.  And when it was right, he asked her a question - a question that was sure to change his life one way or the other.

And she accepted.  Their first date led to more dates leading a proposal to move mountains.

Want to hear the proposal story?  It's a brilliant one.  Johnny and Kim packed their bags to go visit family in Virginia.  On the way to a family home, Johnny took a detour.  To the airport.

"What is going on?!" Johnny kept his secret.  He kept his secret all the way until they landed.  Once on the ground, they rented a car and drove through the night: all the way to the Grand Tetons, Kim's favorite mountain range.

Romantic, huh?  A surprise, whirlwind trip to your dream vacation.  Mmmyea.

The two daring adventurers hiked and explored, and at the perfect crest with literally a view from a dream, Johnny asked his best friend to be his best friend all the days of their life.  With a marriage on the horizon (too much? haha) these two finished their romantic vacation and savored the newly-engaged bliss together.

Up on a much smaller mountain, in a much smaller Maryland town, not many months later, there was a wedding for these best friends.

Also, would the rest of my brides mind getting ready in this room?  I'm sure it wouldn't be inconvenient at all!

I love these two side by side:

I also love these two side by side:

Though I will never love coldness, I will ever love crisp winter light.

Johnny is infatuated with his bride. I've never seen a man so delicate with a woman before (especially such a tough, outdoorsy man!)

She's like his angel.

Would you just love a sweet example?  I can do that.  I was taking portraits of Kim while Johnny watched from the side.

Then all of a sudden! Completely unprompted he swooped in! And stole a kiss! And then faded back to the side.  It was adorable.  Kim blushed, I clicked away, and Johnny rocked on his toes.

Good night, moon.

I was obsessed with their tender body language.

That right there is a man thrilled to be out of a suit, and leaving with his woman.  Ow ow!

He even lifted her into the car and set her in the seat.  I love it.

Enjoy People | Married for A Long Time

"here’s no secret to our marriage, 
we just did what was needed for each other and our family."
mr. + mrs. fisher

Zelmyra, oh-so-lovely in pink, is 101 years old and Herbert, quite stylin' himself, is 104 and they have been married for almost 86 years. For atey sicks years.

I'm very aware of "marriage advice" these days.  Don't we all want to be Zelmyra and Herbert? I read this sweet article about them and just had to share.  This has to make you smile.

---
Is there anything you would do differently after more than 80 years of marriage?

We wouldn’t change a thing. There’s no secret to our marriage, we just did what was needed for each other and our family.

You got married very young – how did u both manage to grow as individuals yet not grow apart as a couple?

“Everyone who plants a seed and harvests the crop celebrates together.” We are individuals, but accomplish more together.

Does communicating get easier with time? 

The children are grown, so we talk more now. We can enjoy our time on the porch or our rocking chairs – together.

At the end of bad relationship day, what is the most important thing to remind yourselves?

Remember marriage is not a contest – never keep a score. God has put the two of you together on the same team to win.
---

I love their theme of "together."  Enjoy together. Celebrate together. Take care of your family together.  Rock on your porch together.

Noted, Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, noted.