Friends, I can’t say enough how valuable it is to have someone snap photos of you and your family at significant points in your life! Today I’m reminded of how quickly our kids grow up—it feels like they grow in an instant sometimes. And while you think you’ll remember how you looked and felt when your kid was a toddler, it’s hard to hang on to a fleeting moment like that.

Pregnancies rush by so fast it seems. Maternity shoots are a special joy and pleasure as they mark one little point in time like no other. Soon enough Josh and Lauren’s baby will be changing their lives, but for now, he or she is nestled within Lauren and growing like crazy. What a special time indeed.

Here are three more images of my dear friend Lauren and her soon-to-be-born little one. I loved doing this session with Jen and Lauren—and I’m thrilled with the final images as well.

Lauren & Baby Honeywell

The Moreheads moved from The Grand last month. I had a lot of nostalgia as I photographed the scene and recalled all the years of living next door. I took one last moment on the front porch steps where we spent countless hours watching park activity (“It’s not rubber-necking if you’re on your front porch”) and surveying our little ones as they played. But it was hard to be sad—afterall we left the neighborhood a year ago and now my friends were moving to a house that better served their growing family’s needs.

Congrats on the new home, Jason and Renae! May you make many wonderful memories in this new space.

If you’ve ever cried in public, then you know how embarrassing it can be to feel vulnerable. I went through a season where I cried at what seemed like every church activity I went to. I’d walk through the doors into a group of women and just start crying about how hard things were. (Hint: my daughter was three at the time.)

It’s tempting to walk away from these moments with a deep sinking feeling in your gut. Oh man, did I really say all that? Why did I cry in front of my friends? And so on and so forth. Or maybe it’s not something you do in person but you feel this way after a particularly personal email or Facebook exchange.

I want to say, though, that we shouldn’t be ashamed of being human. We shouldn’t feel embarrassed for being real or for needing to cry or for sharing our hearts with our friends. We don’t need to bear the weight of perfection and strength. Because guess what? We know it’s a lie. We all know you aren’t perfect. We all know you don’t have your life all together. Knowing that you are human makes me want to be more human, too.

Maralee asked the other day for people’s perceptions of foster parents. I emailed her privately to say “sexy” because when I think of foster parents that’s the first word that comes to mind. You know… now that Jeremy and I are part of this community. Incredible sexiness aside, we avoided foster care for years because of our misconceptions—misconceptions related to foster parents, foster children and definitely related to our state. Maralee then came up with 10 Ways to Ruin Your Fostering Reputation. I highly encourage reading this post and soaking in the information because it is very very good and contains a lot of wisdom.

As we care for foster kids, I’d like to acknowledge, in an effort towards vulnerability, that there are challenges involved. For me the biggest challenges are emotional ones, like how does someone with a huge desire to adopt care for a child who will be reunified with her parents? The struggle to parent well, as in life with your adopted or biological child, is hard. What I find to be exceedingly important at this stage is a support group. Because going down this path alone might just derail me.

To hold in all the frustrations of foster parenting, to never say a cross word about it, isn’t going to help me out in the long-run. As you can see in Maralee’s list, a foster parent needs to be careful about what is said publicly. But privately? That’s another matter. In a small, supportive and confidential community, one is allowed to vent. Gripe. Complain. Acknowledge the hardships. Share the sadness. Confess the feelings of angst. And at the end of the day, such vulnerability makes everyone a better parent. Being known, exposing one’s soul, and knowing others? This is important. It is valuable. And it is nothing to be ashamed of.

Maralee, me and Kerri

A few weeks ago Kerri and her two youngest boys came back for a quick visit to Lincoln. Since their move to the Pacific Northwest last December we have missed them greatly! One of the best things about our new home is the space to host friends and family. They get beds to sleep in while I get friends to share morning coffee with. It’s a win-win in my book.

Even better, pretty soon we’ll get to switch roles… Jeremy and I will be staying in the Koenigs’ rooms while they share their morning coffee with me. Sweet!

I get a bit speechless when trying to describe what these women mean to me. How do you cram well over a decade of life together into a paragraph on a blog? Yeah. That’s hard to do. Suffice to say, our group began studying the bible together just before I was married (that’s almost 15 years ago for anyone who’s counting) and we supported one another through all the ups and downs of adulthood. Friendship, church life, marriage and all that entails, wanting children and actually having children, moving churches, and finally moving away. It was so great to see Jeff and Julie and their three girls on Saturday. Here’s a little evidence of how our families have grown over the years. (Minus my kiddo who, sadly, sat on the sidelines with a virus over Easter weekend.)

Little Ezra is another card-carrying member of the Two-Finger Suckers club. Which basically means he has the power to turn my heart into mush when those fingers go into his mouth. And when he crawls up to sit next to me and cuddle? Or reaches his arms up for me to hold his chunky two-year old self? Well, then I’m all his. Doesn’t matter that I had elbow surgery two months ago, I’ll hold him as long as I can.

I figure that Elsie, the sweetness on the other side of me, loves me because I give her Lucky Charms for a snack. Or because I let her watch copious amount of television when her family stayed at our house in December. Or because I snuggled with her when she had a fever. Whatever the reason is, she and I are now bonded. Buddies. I hope this is a lifelong friendship.

Welcome to Lincoln and to Redeemer, Gordon family! We are thrilled you are here to stay.

**Photo credit to Chris Gordon who helped herself to my camera and thus allowed me to actually be in a photograph.

Have you ever seen a woman crying while driving? Did you see one on 70th & Van Dorn today? Yeah, that was me. Driven to big elephant tears by adoption and foster care and a multitude of stories that mix beauty with sadness, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The alternative was crying on the physical therapy table while getting my elbow iced. I’m relieved I made it out to the car first.

I started off the day reading this post by the very talented Renee Welstead. Renee will always be the amazing photographer who taught me a lot (I can almost hear her voice when I’m working), but more recently I’ve watched Renee and her equally talented husband Ben as they walked through the foster care system and right into adoption. We’re running in different circles these days but every time I get a glimpse of their personal lives I pray for them and cheer them on. I love what they are doing.

And then there is Maralee and the story of her day with her second son Danny. I knew about this situation before she blogged about it, but goodness, the story still slayed me. Her Danny and my Liv have a lot in common. Livia, at age four, also said things about her biological family that completely threw me and Jeremy for a loop. Very early on we’ve all had to think about how to convey the truth of adoption as well as build strong family foundations. This can be so hard—adoption can be so hard at times! And yet, so worth it as well. Obviously worth it as well.

I’ve been hearing stories of foster kids lately and one particular story, combined with Maralee’s blog post that I read on the PT table, broke me down. The specifics of it can’t be shared due to confidentiality for a state ward, but people, your hearts would be broken if you knew what some kids go through.

I am the first to admit that working in foster care scares the tar out of me. Abuse and neglect can’t help but change a person and cause damage that will alter their lives. The honest truth is that some kids will be able to heal significantly with therapy and lots of love and stability, and other kids won’t be able to bounce back so easily. The longer a child is in an abusive situation the more damage is incurred on their minds and bodies. As I’ve been reading and learning and digging deeper into foster care, I’m feeling so inadequate for the job that lies ahead. I am scared. I am nervous. I am wondering what God might ask Jeremy and me to do.

Just as I am feeling completely broken for the kids in my state who have been injured by the adults in their worlds, I remember that God is bigger than all this. His love for his children knows no bounds and his heart was the first that was broken for these kids. He loves them. Adores them. Knows their every need and carries each of their tears. He is the Deliverer, the Redeemer, the Rock and our salvation. At the end of the day, I don’t need to be afraid. God’s got this. I need to faithfully walk forward and serve Him by loving others.

Lord, help all of us working with foster kids. Help us to love fully, to pour ourselves out and then to be replenished by your strength. Amen.