Mid-March of 2020

One year ago today, it was Friday the 13th. It was also the first day of spring break for my kids, and the news was buzzing about some virus that might kill us.

From 10am to 2pm I was at the local boutique where I work, then I stopped at Walmart on the way home. Here's what I wrote in my journal about that experience, and a photo I snapped because I thought the world had gone bonkers:

"It was incredibly crazy. With the Coronavirus COVID-19 looking like it's going to shut down some stuff, there were tons of people and so many shelves were picked over. I wasn't stressed about all of this until I went to Walmart!"

The canned soup shelves at Walmart on 3/13/2020.

It is worth noting that when I went into my archives just now to find that photo, my emotions ratcheted up as I glanced over some of the screenshots and photos I saved from those first few days. Hindsight is 20/20, and I wish I knew then what I know now. (Or do I?)

So let's go on a little tangent: one year ago this week, all the chatter was about staying home, flattening the curve by this new term called "social distancing..."

3/16/2020

...washing your hands for at least 20 seconds...

This was posted by the sink in a public restroom on 3/12/2020.

People I know in real life and on my social media feed seemed to fit into one of two camps: they were either alarmists or underemotional. (Personally, I vacillated between the two.)

3/16/2020

3/13/2020

And some people weren't sure of much but were definitely sure of God.

3/16/2020

Within days, many started making political statements. This was a screenshot I took on March 16th:

Over that first spring break weekend, we escaped "civilization" and stayed with some friends at their cabin about an hour away from home. I remember loading the car with this thought in the back of my mind: what if we aren't home when the world shuts down? I half expected the zombie apocalypse to start over the weekend, and we'd never be able to get back to our house - or at least not for a long while. We were taking our dog with us, so I thought at least we wouldn't have to come back any sooner than necessary. At the last minute, I threw in a few extra outfits for me and the kids in case we spent more than a weekend away from home. Plus more snacks because: priorities!

We had a good weekend with our friends and being isolated in the woods helped calm some of the worry. On Sunday, we watched church online because our church had announced they were closing the buildings for two weeks until things settled down.

The zombie apocalypse didn't occur over the weekend, so we headed home that afternoon. I kind of wanted to stay at the cabin to wait out spring break, thinking the world just needed a week to get back on track.

When we got home, Jackson asked to hang out at the neighbors' house. From my journal:

"I let him. Got a text from XX saying St. Charles County is closing all schools until April 6. All of a sudden I felt a little panic coming on. I went to the neighbors to bring J home."

The next day, we got the notification from our school district.

That's the day, March 16, when I started tracking COVID Isolation days in my journal. I also sat the kids down and, as I wrote in my journal, "talked about our plans to still have a routine while we're being isolated." Dan came home from work that day and told me the plans his office was making, and I remember feeling angry and anxious because I felt it wasn't enough for his immunocompromised wife.

I had to vent to my sister and felt I couldn't find a private place inside the house, so I sat in my car in the garage to call her. She had venting of her own to do because she was supposed to fly to Qatar that day to be with her husband, who lives there for his job. She was literally on the way to the airport when the airline notified her of cancelled flights because the country had closed its borders. She returned to her condo and our phone call was filled with lots of What Ifs and When Will I...

That's the day it all changed, when life split into a firm BEFORE and AFTER.

Each day of mid-March this year, I have found myself thinking about what I was doing only one year ago.

The last time we ate out.

The last time we gathered in a crowd.

The last time we went to a store without any precautions.

And the first time I ever wore a mask.

Will we ever be like we were only 52 weeks ago?

Happy 13th Birthday, Jackson!

Dear Jackson,

This birthday is one for the history books. I sincerely doubt (and fervently hope!) that you'll ever have another birthday in your lifetime spent in lock down during a worldwide pandemic. Thanks to the COVID19/Coronavirus that's affecting our entire world, we've been isolating for about two weeks now.

About a week ago, I realized this birthday wouldn't be like any you've had before and I better come up with a plan to make it as special as possible given the circumstances. Since most businesses are closed (except for restaurant take out), we wouldn't be able to plan any sort of outing to an event or even just to take the family to the movies. So I messaged pretty much everyone I know, asking them to help by sending a card or a letter to celebrate your birthday. Your friends came through big time!

Mail started showing up a few days before your birthday, so I kept it hidden until the morning of your birthday. Your first delivery actually came when your friend Kyle dropped off a card and gift on the front porch. You opened it to find a pottery lizard. You were so excited that Kyle remembered! I told you about a bunch of other letters waiting for you to open, so we all gathered around the kitchen table to watch you read them all.

There were letters from your cousins and your aunts and uncles, your grandparents, your neighbors, church friends, your sister's friends, your school buddies, and even former teachers. The smile on your face was radiant, as if you couldn't believe how much people love you. The letters were full of funny drawings, jokes, stickers, quite a few batches of candy, cash (whoa!), and - best of all - lots and lots of words of love and good wishes for the year to come. Here are some of the things people said to you:

• "Keep smiling and keep your energy up. Don't ever lose that. As you grow and change, don't forget who you were as you change into who you are. That journey will teach you and remind you, forever."
• "Don't ever stop being kind, funny, artistic, loving, courageous, God-loving, smart, and hardworking."
• "You are a burst of light, love and joy to our family."
• "God made you special and He made you exactly the way you are on purpose, full of life and kindness."

I feel the same way, Jackson! You are an energetic, loving, deep-feeling, funny, and smart kid. (And handsome, too!)

I could never forget how energetic and loving you are, because it's always so apparent. But sometimes I forget how very deep your feelings can go because it might not always seem that way on the surface. And then you do something like this...

A few months ago, I worked an afternoon shift which means you get home from school when I'm n ot there. As I normally do, I left you a note with your list of chores and items you needed to do. Kind of as a last minute thing, I added "Write me a letter" on your list. I didn't think you'd do it - or if you did, it would be a one sentence note. I pretty much forgot about it until I came home to find you waiting to greet me in your suit blazer, with this letter in your hand.

I read it with tears in my eyes because I had forgotten how deeply your feelings can run, and how observant you are. I didn't even remember we had been having rough mornings recently because, honestly, that's pretty much the norm for you. That letter breathed such life and love into me, and I will cherish it forever.

So, today you are a teenager (as you keep reminding me). You've grown in height and depth and courage. You now have braces, which were an adjustment but you rolled with it. You're just about an eighth grader already, because it looks like you won't be going back to school to finish out seventh grade due to the pandemic. So much change in what feels like a short amount of time, but in reality it's life at the speed of life. Life keeps happening, and you keep Jackson-ing. I can always count on you to be you: the messy, passionate, alive son I love so much.

I hope your 13th birthday has been your best yet!

Love,

Mom

Happy 12th Birthday, Jackson!

Dear Jackson,

I'm dating this letter on your 12th birthday, but I'm not going to divulge the date I actually wrote this. (Hint: quite a few weeks months have passed!) I don't know why I've stalled in this letter writing tradition. It doesn't mean I don't celebrate you and the beginning of a new year together. I think time is simply not my friend these days. It goes too slow when I'm frustrated, and too fast when I'm elated.

For example, this first year of middle school has felt slower than molasses. You don't *quite* love 6th grade, and you make your opinion VERY clear to me in the mornings before school. It's why I stopped waking you and instead allow the Amazon Echo device to do it for me. My mornings are much more survivable when Alexa wakes you up and you yell at her instead of me!

At the same time, this first year of middle school has felt faster than a firework. The things you're learning feel accelerated and hyper-speed. Especially the advanced advanced math class that we pulled you out of after first semester because you don't need to get high school credit in the middle of middle school. (Slow it down, for Pete's sake!)

Over the last year or so, I've been diving into this thing called The Enneagram. It's a personality typology that... well, you can Google it if and when you read these letters one day and become curious. In my Enneagram education, I've had you and your sister take an online test to figure out what your number is. The caution, of course, is that you're too young to be fully one number but you can display certain qualities already that put you in that number's ballpark. So far, your type appears to be a 7, which means you are an enthusiast and an adventurer. Which means we have lots of fun and there are no two days that are the same with you. Which means you also have a hard time staying in the present moment and want to fast forward to next next NEXT!

And if that isn't a perfect description of my life as your mother this past year, I don't know what is. I have a hard time staying in the present moment with you, soaking in the realization of how far you've come in the last 12 years. Instead, I catch myself still doing the "I Can't Wait" dance of:

• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to ride his bike alone to the next neighborhood over.
• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to not get so crabby about mornings!
• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to be in control of his emotions instead of erupting them all over me.
• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to watch Stranger Things with us.
• I can't wait until Jackson finds his sweet spot in sports, school, reading for pleasure, and hobbies. (I don't think Nerf guns count!)

See what I mean? Molasses and fireworks, slower and faster, always the extremes. So here's hoping for a little more breath and simply being in this coming year: for both you and me!

Happy birthday, my sweet Sugar Boy. Thanks for keeping me on my toes, never letting me wonder whether you adore me or not, and always being ready for a snuggle and a nose boop.

I love you,
Mommy

Happy 11th Birthday, Jackson! (Plus 3 Weeks)

Jackson,

This past year, I've learned more about you that solidified what I already suspected: you are silly, wild, noisy, wordy, loving, funny, friendly, and an enthusiastic friend.

I'm the kind of person who gets jazzed by hanging out with people. I love to talk, hear stories, and experience life with others. In the past, I've been told that my energy can be a little overwhelming. Allegedly, the Elizabeth Type of Love is exuberant and somewhat exhausting.

Before you entered my life, comments about my "exuberance" never quite sunk in; I sort of suspected what people meant, but couldn't understand that vibrant love could possibly be exhausting. In my thinking, I figured if regular love was good, exorbitant over-the-top LOVE would be even better. Right?

And then, I had a ten-year-old Jackson. (To be fair, it didn't start in only your tenth year of life.) A ten-year-old Jackson whose life motto could be summed up: "Go big or go home."

Like the Elizabeth Type of Love, the Jackson Type of Love is intense and emotional, full of magical highs and crashing lows. You are fiercely independent while sweetly dependent; you're self reliant, and yet so needy. How can the two coexist? Somehow those two personas live within you.

You have an incredible ability to remember details most people forget, and a dogged determination to follow whatever the moment's focus might be at any given time. Once your brain latches on to something or someone, it takes a different Something or Someone to get you to change course. I love this about you, because having a wishy-washy son would probably madden me to no end. Your passion is tangible and your enthusiasm is contagious. (Unless, of course, it's an "enthusiastic" tantrum. Those are no fun.)

Sometimes, my exuberance and your passion don't quite complement each other. When I've been scorched by your intensity and sigh in exasperation to Daddy, he looks at me with one eyebrow raised as if to say, "Really? You think HE'S intense? You should try being married to you!" Of course, he means it lovingly and also as a reminder to me that you and I are made of the same kind of stuff:

Big highs and deep lows
Joy
Emotions in motion
Loyal friendship
Dreams and ideas
Laughter
Delight
Action
LIFE and LOVE

Remember in the movie Inside Out when Joy thinks Sadness is a downer, only to realize Sadness is what gives Joy its meaning? Life can be similar to that for people like you and me: we can love deeply because we can feel deeply (which means we can lose deeply too). Feeling deeply means we are equipped to help others with their feelings, instead of just exploding our feelings on to them. Feeling deeply compels and enables you to stand with people not just when they are happy, but when they are sad too.

In this coming 11th year of your life, one of my goals as your mama is to help you develop a different side of love: compassion. You're so good at feeling your feelings, and now I'd love to see you harness the joy of feeling other people's feelings, too.

I firmly believe you are an unstoppable force in this world, Jackson. Daddy and I have a calling to help harness the "force" that is Jackson and point it in a Godly direction. I'm praying God will show us the way this year, knowing there are big transitions coming our way. (Middle school especially - eeeeek!)

I'm so happy to have a seat of honor in the life God is growing in you.

I love you,
Mommy

An Overview of Our Guatemala Trip

It's been almost two weeks since Dan, Katie, and I returned from our trip to Guatemala with Living Water International. I've waited to write about it because I hoped a little time would give me insight into the experience and cut away the excess words I want to use to describe it. Instead, I've found the words just keep multiplying because the experience continues to have weight and meaning for me.

I figured the experience would end when the well was drilled and the trip was over and we returned home safely. I was wrong. The trip has continued to splash its lessons into my life, and I get the feeling my experience is far from over.

So how do I write about this? The journalist in me wants to chronicle the entire trip day by day, hour by hour. Without that play-by-play, I run the risk of forgetting the little moments that mattered so much as I was living them. But a play-by-play would surely bore my readers to tears. However, this blog isn't written for my "readers." I write it for only two Readers, Katie and Jackson, as a virtual scrapbook of their lives and the woman who's raising them. And since one of those Readers is so integral to my Guatemala experience, I'll run the risk of boring all you bystanders and tell the stories in my words as I recall them.

This blog post serves as your introduction and general overview of the trip. In the coming days, I'll post the play-by-plays through new entries as I sift through the photos, the memories, and the relationships God built in my life in Guatemala.

In the last twelve days since our return flight landed in St. Louis, I've had countless people ask the same words: "How was your trip?" Every time, I'm torn about how to answer. Is the asker wanting a quick factual reply or the in-depth feeling response? Either way, it's not a simple answer but I end up saying some variation of, "It was great. Exhausting and hot and we were all pushed out of our comfort zones. I learned a lot about my daughter's limits and my own, too. But there's a clean water well and the people we met? Oh, they're amazing." Sometimes I'll go a little deeper and glance off the illness parts of the trip: puking and pink eye. But mostly, I'll keep it at level two.

There have been a few people who don't accept the level two answer, and they want to go all the way to level four and even level five, if we have time. These are the ones who portioned off their personal time to meet with me and let me have full run of our conversation. They gave me the freedom to turn the conversation into a monologue by letting me describe the colors and flavors and painful-turned-sacred moments. What a gift!

Not everyone has the ability to offer that kind of gift, so I'm learning not to push my details on them. That's what this blog is for, right? Ha!

If you want the level two answer (maybe it's even a level three), here's the long and short of it, again:

It was great. Exhausting and hot and we were all pushed out of our comfort zones. I learned a lot about my daughter's limits and my own, too. But there's a clean water well and the people we met? Oh, they're amazing.

Now, let's go deeper. No pun intended.

On paper, the trip was a success. We drilled deeper than our team leader, Jaime, said he ever drilled before: 270 feet! There's now a functioning well in the courtyard of Iglesia Bethania in Caballo Blanco, Guatemala. That's the concrete part of the trip we can measure to show success, and it worked, so we get a gold star. Right? Right!

But what about the immeasurable part of the trip? Did we educate the people of Caballo Blanco and teach them how to prevent disease? Did we form connections with our team members and the community members, connections that will last even after this life? Did we see and feel and hear God in the midst of sweat and mud?

Yes. Yes. And yes.

The immeasurable, unquantifiable parts seem like they'd only be the byproduct of the primary mission of digging a well. Education and relationships are the secondary goal after the primary goal of providing clean water. At least that's what I thought before the trip began. Now that it's over, I'm not so sure.

If the only goal was to build a working well, Jaime and Nestor wouldn't need a group of 12 American tourists to be there. Because the truth is, we slowed them down. Jaime and Nestor are so good at operating the rig, drilling the well, and delegating tasks to the townspeople. They work seamlessly and diligently, barely skipping a beat when the rig jams or one of the little rotating thingies (is it called a drill bit?) falls off. Taking the time to teach the gringos (a term of endearment for tourists in Guatemala, unlike the insult it would be in other Spanish-speaking countries like Mexico) how to operate the levers, attach new pipes, assess the soil samples, mix the Bentonite, and a thousand other things slows the drilling. If the only goal was to build a working well, I'd think the Living Water organization could skip all the extra involvement of having gringos on the mission.

But the well isn't the only goal. It's the dangling carrot that got me (and my daughter) interested in the trip so many years ago, but I'm starting to think the well is secondary to all the other pieces of the trip. Because here's what became primary for me:

Hugging Alder and seeing his smile when he learned a new word in English.

Making tortillas with Maria.

Hearing Liliana's laughter echo out above the full-throttle noise of the rig.

Painting the nails of Jordy's mom, and watching her giggle with delight when I added polka dots and stripes.

Hugs every morning when we arrived at the church.

Praying for Gracie Amaryllis on her front porch.

People who didn't give up communicating with me even when my limited Spanish was SO WRONG. ("We can work on it coneja. Together!" and later, I learned coneja does not mean together. It means rabbit! Oh, man...)

Jesus, always in my pocket.

Watching Guatemalan men labor intensely with few breaks to insure the health of their families, to stop wasting money on bottled/bagged water, and to accomplish something as a community that they couldn't do individually.

Katie, arms akimbo, pushing through her fears and doing something hard.

Finally discovering the living water that has been there all along - we just needed help to find it and we needed to do it together. Such a visual for my faith life, too!

And, lastly, eight of the hardest road trip hours I've ever endured that ended with two hours of the best worship I've ever experienced. I'll save that for another blog post.

Stay tuned...

[Would you like to jump straight into the day-by-day recap of our trip? Click here to start with day 1.]

Happy 14th Birthday, Katie! (Give or Take 48 Days)

Katie,

You've been 14 years old for 48 days now, and I'm just now getting around to writing your birthday letter. Yes, I am definitely in the running for 2017's Worst Mom of the Year Award. Yippee!

There are two reasons I haven't written your annual letter until now:

1. We have been BUSY this summer. (Lame excuse, I know.)

2. I've been staring at you for 48 days now, waiting for this current acceleration to slow down for one cotton-picking minute so I can recover from the whiplash and collect my thoughts. But that hasn't happened yet... and tomorrow is your first (gulp!) unofficial day of high school.* It's Transition Day for 9th graders, also known as The End of Denial for all the freshman mommies.

*Cue all the "oh-my-gosh-where-did-the-time-go" comments, except I know exactly where the time has gone. This link will tell you!

Yes, we are in a turbo growth period this summer. If you don't believe me, let's look at a side-by-side comparison of you on May 28 and July 27.

At first glance, the hair has obviously changed. But look again. Do you see the slight change in the shape of your face? And what's even more apparent to me is the confidence slowly solidifying in your character. Maybe you can't see that in this photo, but I can. And I've witnessed it for the last two months.

It started the first week in June when we were at youth camp together. I got to share an especially holy moment with you and Jesus, and I won't forget it as long as I live. (In fact, this moment will ring into eternity, so I'll be reliving it for a loooong time!)

Your June birthday was also a milestone moment. That night for the first time, we turned on the new patio lights that Daddy installed. We opened your gifts, then had private time with you when Jackson went to bed. We gave you a special ring, talked about your future, then Daddy invited you to dance with him to the song "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran. (I tried not to think of the foreshadowing of this moment, but it was hard to keep my mind from wandering and wondering what your wedding day will be like. That night was the first time I could actually picture it happening one day.)

We went fishing on Father's Day, and I watched you through my camera lens as you sat with your grandfather. The look of contentment on your face spoke to your new ability to sit quietly at peace without forcing yourself into a situation. Does that even make sense? What I mean is: just a few years ago, a fishing trip like this would have meant constant busy-ness and intensity as you moved around and about, wanting another worm or a hook or skipping to a new spot to catch fish. This time, you relaxed and waited for the world to come to you - instead of running out to chase it.

The rest of June involved your first high school class (online freshman health), some new babysitting gigs (what maturity!), your first visit to Six Flags with friends and without an adult (what growth!), and your very last softball game (what an athlete!).

Daddy left for a week-long fishing trip to Canada in July, so you and Jackson and I went on a few adventures and you had a "sleepover" in my bed every night. The second week of July, we drove to South Carolina with your friend Ashleigh so we could spend a few days with Aunt Mimi at the beach.

You earned new freedom at the beach: you and Ash walked the dog by yourselves, stayed up late, watched more "mature" movies we wouldn't have seen a few years ago, and you got yourself up early enough to watch the sunrise over the ocean. Heck, I even let you drink lots of Coke! Say what?! One morning, you made a special plan to watch the sunrise with me. Man, this moment was priceless!

Then you started marching band camp.

And all of a sudden, the accelerated changes went into hyper drive. I can hardly describe it! When you were a preschooler, I knew you were changing regularly but couldn't quite see it until hindsight gave me clarity. But the last two weeks of July, I saw growth every single day. It was as if your soul was thickening right in front of my eyes, like the concrete foundation of your childhood was now strong enough to support a substantial structure. I gasped the day you came home from band camp and spontaneously decided to get a hair cut. I about fell over at the hair salon when you decided to cut off 10 inches so you could donate it to Locks of Love. Flabbergasted.

You've been painting your nails. Sporting jewelry. Wearing your hair down! I mean, I can't even...

I don't want to gloss over the growth and changes that gradually appeared in the year before June - before you turned 14 - but I can hardly remember the person you were before this lovely, vibrant, 14-year-old young lady emerged. Now do you understand what I meant when I spoke of whiplash at the start of this letter?

I am having the time of my life, exploring you and watching your personality unfold. I know the relationship I have with you is special. You tell me often that your friends don't talk to their moms like we talk. (You know this because your friends tell you this!) I wonder if I should be waiting for the other shoe to drop when you'll become a surly, eye-rolling, harumph-ing teenager. Maybe that phase is on its way, and maybe it isn't. At this point, I'm enjoying myself too much in the present moment to be distracted by any possible angst on the way.

You delight me, Katie. I can't believe I get to be your mom! What a fun ride we're having.

I love you,
Mommy

My New Gear

Last year, I realized my favorite camera (my starter Pentax K200) was starting to fail me. I had stuck pixels and a gummed-up power button. The local repair shop said buying a newer model would be smarter - and likely cheaper - than fixing those issues.

So about four months ago, I made the decision to buy a new camera. I did lots of research first, and kept stumbling upon articles like this one at Improve Photography that recommended switching to a mirrorless camera. I didn't even know what that meant, because I don't personally know any professional photographers who own mirrorless cameras. It seemed risky to go against the industry standard. Then I visited the local camera shop and held mirrorless cameras in my hands, and I swear it's like my heart started beating faster.

It's not that I had stopped loving photography. Not at all! But I was getting into a rut of using my iPhone more often because my two DSLRs were so bulky to carry. Although my iPhone photos can't compare to the images I get with a DSLR, the convenience trumped quality most of the time. (Unless, of course, I had a client photo session.)

When I held a mirrorless camera in my hand, I felt all kinds of jazzed up to get outside again and adventure with a "real" camera. When I looked at the specs and price tag, it seemed like a no-brainer to me. So I took the plunge and went mirrorless, buying a Panasonic Lumix G7.

Here's a photo (ironically, taken with my iPhone) of all my fancy pants cameras. The Lumix is on the far left. My Pentax K200 is in the middle and boat-anchor-heavy Nikon D200 is on the right. All cameras have the zoom lens mounted on them in this photo, but it's obvious that even with the zoom lens the Lumix is way smaller.

When I have a wide angle lens attached to each camera, the Lumix weighs only 1lb 3oz. That's about half the weight of my favorite (the Pentax weighs 2lb 5oz), and a third of the weight of the Nikon (which weighs 3lb 9oz).

But I was comfortable with my old cameras, so trying to figure out the new bells and whistles on the Lumix frustrated me at first. I had to force myself to take the camera with me on made-up outings so I could get used to the feel of it. It wasn't until spring break that I fell in love with the Lumix. That's when Dan and I took the kids to visit Aunt Mimi and Uncle Wally in New York City.

For the first time, I was able to keep up (mostly) with the family instead of my usual pattern of rushing along behind them because I've stopped to take photo after photo. With the Lumix, I still stopped to take photos but the LCD screen meant I didn't have to put the gear to my eye, focus, and snap. I could just whip it up in front of my face (not lining it up with an eye) and touch the screen to take photos. Dude! It was fast and easy and I took terrific shots. Not to mention my back wasn't killing from hauling around a camera bag and extra lens each day.

I loved being able to turn and snap a photo before my kids even knew I was watching. This photo of Jackson on Ellis Island, searching for our family name among the list of immigrants, is one of my favorites from the trip. The way he is reflected on the wall of names feels like he's searching for himself in the history of our country. Which, to be honest, he truly was doing.

APERTURE: 4.8, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/160 sec, ISO: 500

The new camera made me so excited for photos again - real photos, not just the kind I snap with my phone. Now I wanted to seek out new adventures to photograph and push myself with the new gear. At the end of March, I hit the jackpot of photography in my very own back yard.

I noticed a mama bird starting to build a nest in the tree right outside our kitchen window. It was like my own personal National Geographic photography documentary. I went a little nuts, even taking the screen out of the window in the upstairs bathroom so I could hang out of it and shoot down into the nest. The day I found the first two eggs, I lit up like a Christmas tree.

APERTURE: 5.6, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/320 sec, ISO: 8000

I wish y'all could have seen me hanging out the second-story window with my arm stretched out to the right. The Lumix has a rotating LCD screen, which means I can shoot at an angle that's contrary to where my body is. And since I can change my focal point right on the display, I can get a perfectly focused image.

Three weeks after the above image was shot, I captured this one of the hungry babies waiting for their mama to come feed them.

APERTURE: 5.5, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/80 sec, ISO: 1600

Again, the lighter gear and the rotating screen helped me photograph at an angle I probably couldn't have captured (at least not in focus) with my traditional DSLRs. This next photo, shot two days after that one above, gives you an even better understanding of the Lumix. I was able to hold the camera above my head and shoot down into the nest, without having to hang from my bathroom window. (Ha ha.)

APERTURE: 5.3, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/125 sec, ISO: 4000

Y'all. I've always wanted to take a photo like that but never had the chance or the proximity to do so. This photo makes me so happy and fascinates the nature geek inside me. It's a bunch of the best things in life rolled into one image: new life, God's provision, perfect timing, and challenging photography. Happy happy, joy joy!

About a week into April, I traveled to Hawaii for a very sad occasion. That's a whole separate story that I'll tell one day, but not yet. Suffice it to say Hawaii is a literal paradise on earth. While I would give anything to change the reason I was there, I was able to take in the beauty of God's creation and also gift my extended family with some special photos of our time together. Most of them are private photos we'll share only within our family, but here are a few of my favorite photos from my visit there.

APERTURE: 9, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/1000 sec, ISO: 400

I'm showing these photos because, again, my Lumix gear was light enough to carry all over Hawaii with me - even to the ocean's edge at the Banzai Pipeline.

APERTURE: 6.3, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/1000 sec, ISO: 200

On my last day in Hawaii, I was returning to our rental house after my last walk on the beach when I I spied these blossoms at the top of a Plumeria tree. It seemed they were reaching to heaven, and it is the photo I most love from my time there: beautiful, heavenly flowers.

APERTURE: 6, SHUTTER SPEED: 1/400 sec, ISO: 200

I'm still getting to know the Lumix gear, but I'm finally comfortable enough to use it in client sessions. Just last week, I had a pre-Prom shoot with my friend Grace, and I captured this photo of her standing in the wind with her eyes closed and her hair blowing.

The only thing that would make my new camera even more appealing is if I could put it in my pocket. But that's unrealistic, right? Well... not quite.

There's actually a new camera that has the quality of a DSLR but it's tiny in comparison. It's called the L16 and it's manufactured by a company named Light. (You should really click on that link to see what makes this camera so amazing. Or click here to see a quick video describing the SIXTEEN lenses embedded in its slim body. It's all kinds of bionic and futuristic!) It's currently sold out and I'm pretty sure when it becomes available again it will be out of my price range. But a girl can dream, right?!

For now, I'll keep challenging myself to grow with my trusty old new Lumix. We have lots of adventures ahead of us!

This post is part of Light.co's #VantagePoint photography project. It got me thinking about my favorite photos, which led me to two other favorites I'll show you in an upcoming post. Stay tuned!