I sat down to write this post last night. And the night before. And nothing would come to me. My mind went completely blank. The fear started to set in. The lies began whispering in my ear that I have nothing to say, that no one cares what I say anyway. I began to wonder why I even started this blog. I went back and read my first post to remind myself – but it didn’t help. Still no words. I re-read my About page – maybe that would help? Nope.

I wanted to be profound and eloquent, but I am naturally neither of those things. I finally closed my laptop, the screen still blank, muttered a few words to Tim about feeling discouraged, and shuffled off to brush my teeth and throw myself into bed (with dramatic sighs I’m sure.) He crawled into bed next to me a few minutes later, and with sweet and gentle words, tried to encourage me. I was too busy being selfish and self-focused and acting out the exhaustion I was feeling to hear much of what he had to say, but this morning I remembered him telling me to be honest.

He reminded me that I didn’t create this blog to be a perfect place where I share our perfect little days when I feel I have it all together and figured out. (Those days are all too rare anyway that I’d never write if that was the case.) He encouraged me to write truth and honesty, rather than wait till my words are polished and perfect. So here I am. Feeling broken, imperfect, weary, and incapable.

I’m carrying the weight of big things like our NC Weddings for Freedom chapter – Tim and I are hosting a meeting next week for any wedding vendors interested in joining our fight against human trafficking. Fear whispers in my ear that no one will show up to our meeting, that no one cares and nobody’s going to stand with us. I’m clinging to the fact that we are simply vessels for God to use and that I’m incapable of doing this on my own. That’s the whole point isn’t it? We can’t do this on our own. That’s what joining this community together is all about.

I worry for my mom who is in a job that demands too much of her. She works harder than anyone I know, offering creative and innovative solutions for her students and teachers, working late into the night and early in the morning, rarely even having time to eat during her busy school days. I see how much she pours herself out and lament how little she gets back in return.

I wear myself out over making sure our clients are happy. I struggle with the balance of sticking to my creative voice versus making sure they’re happy. It’s a dance of crafting what I believe is beautiful and giving our clients an experience that we have spent years developing, versus the voices that claim “what you do is just a service, you’re just there to make the client happy.” I’ll be honest – I don’t balance that well. Everything within me wants to reject those words and trust my creative voice wholeheartedly. We struggle and strive toward drawing our couples closer to one another through how we photograph and film them. Obviously we hope that makes them happy and we hope they’re happy with the photos they end up with. Where is the creative balance though? It’s something we’re constantly learning and growing in.

And then there are the little things. They’re little worries that gnaw at the back of my consciousness, and when added all together tend to overwhelm me a bit. Our car is in the shop right now – how much is it going to cost this time?? What’s for dinner tonight? When am I going to get around to painting our front hall? How am I going to grow this blog in my free time (free time? what’s that?!) When are we going to have our student loans paid off? When are we going to have kids? How are we going to pay rent this summer while Tim’s paycheck is no longer coming in? How long are we going to stay in this house? Where will we go next? I should probably stop, huh? I can just see Tim shaking his head later when he reads this, telling me I can’t carry all of these things. And he’d be right. They’re not mine to carry.

What are you trying to carry today? What fears, worries, hesitations do you have? What do you need to let go of? Let’s let go of these fears together.

There’s really no recipe needed for this iced coffee. Since the weather is quickly warming up here in North Carolina, I’ve found this is my go-to afternoon caffeine source. Whenever I have leftover coffee in the pot, I pour it into the ice cube tray in our freezer. Using coffee ice cubes rather than regular ones ensures your iced coffee doesn’t get watered down at all! You can pour hot or cold coffee over your coffee-cubes (just use more ice if you’re using hot coffee obviously.) I prefer mine with a little caramel macchiato flavored creamer and some milk, but you can drink it plain if you’re into that sort of thing. I worked at Starbucks for a brief period of my life while we lived in Seattle (before I realized how much of an introvert I am and how little I enjoy serving obnoxious, demanding customers), and despite that (or more likely because of it) I’ve never enjoyed drinking coffee black. I’m over it. Give me some sugary creamer and I’m a happy camper.

Also, just a side note. It’s ridiculously difficult to accurately pour creamer into a cup of coffee with one hand while balancing a heavy camera with the other hand, looking through the lens, focusing, trying not to block your own light with the one hand, and trying to get a steady photo of the creamer ever-so-gently pouring into the glass with the other. Tim wasn’t home to help assist the day I took these photos, so I’m pretty proud of that singular in-focus creamer shot.