Category: Uncategorized

We’re all taking photos, but are we taking of photos of the right things in the right way?  Are we really documenting our families or do we just have a handful or photos of what people look like?  What are the stories we’re telling with our photos?  And how are we telling them?

I wrote the Every Day Photos Guide with the intent to help people change the way they think about photo documenting.  To help us all stop taking photos of just what things look like, and focus more on capturing what life FEELS like. Capturing who people are and why their stories matter. The every day moments and things that make up our lives.

The Every Day Photos Guide is ON SALE (first time ever) for just $11 (almost 50% savings) until midnight on December 12th!!  You can read all about the guide and its value RIGHT HERE.

If you don’t have this guide already, now is the time.  For the cost of one lunch, you can change the way you look at taking photos forever.  I guarantee it.  If you aren’t 100% happy with the e-book, just e-mail me within 14 days of your purchase and I’ll refund the money so there’s no risk to you.

The Every Day Photos guide–you’re guide to documenting your story through photos!!

This isn’t a typical post for me, but since this is a “lifestyle” blog, I figure I can kinda write whatever I want.  That’s the whole point.  And I appreciate my people (all of you) who continue to come back and hear what I have to say.  I try to be mindful of everything I write and hope it helps people in one way or another.

My uncle passed away on Sunday.  All the things I’ve thought about death and dying have changed a bit from this experience.  His name is Jim.  He’s my moms only sibling and though they didn’t get along well in their youth, they have since become best friends.

I’m leaving out a lot of details (feels too personal to share for all the world to read) but I wanted to at least share something.  What to include and what to leave out isn’t totally clear for me, but I think sharing some moments of vulnerability and truth can be helpful (for the writer and the reader).  So we’re going journal style-ish and hopefully it will help someone.  Or at least someone can relate.

He was diagnosed with cancer earlier this year, but we don’t think that’s how he died.  His liver shut down first.  Then other organs.  He was admitted into the hospital last Monday as doctor upon doctor tried to figure out what was wrong.  He just got more and more sick.  In the beginning we still had hope, but still encouraged my mom to spend as much time with him as she could.  Saturday evening my sister and I were able to spend a few minutes with him.  He was so sick.  And barely able to speak. But I was able to give him a hug and tell him I love him.  He knew who I was.  I’m so grateful for that last chance to talk to him.  And make sure he knew how much I cared about him.  I’m also grateful I didn’t necessarily need that time to make sure he knew.  The time we spent together throughout my life was well spent.  And he already knew how much I loved him.  But I was grateful for one last chance to say it.

By Sunday morning his body was shutting down.  He said he was ready to go and doctors still had no conclusive reason why his body wasn’t working right.  Any efforts to save him were stopped.  Family and friends started to gather.  There was no timeline.  No definitives.  No hope for life left.  He was moved to a room in the hospital to accommodate larger groups of people.  It’s interesting to me there are rooms like that in a hospital.  The room they take people to to die.  It was horrible and helpful all at the same time.

We took turns going in and out of his room.  Standing by his side.  Holding his hand.  Sitting on the couch and staring into space.  At times it was quiet.  Other times it was louder as family and friends who haven’t seen each other for a while talked, joked around a bit to ease the pain, and reminisced about a life well spent.

The doctors said it could be hours.  It could be days.  I prayed it wouldn’t be days.  Once you know someone isn’t going to live, it’s hard to see them continue to labor staying alive.  Every ounce of my being didn’t want him to die, and at the same time, every ounce of my being wanted him to die quickly to end his suffering.  And ours.

A little before 2pm on Sunday, his heart rate slowed.  His breathing became more sporadic.  My dad (who is a doctor), held his wrist and felt his pulse.  “It’s almost time” he said.  Everyone gathered around his bed.  We just stood there.  And watched.  And waited.  And cried.

I’ve heard stories about people dying in circumstances like this.  I’ve seen it in the movies and on TV. Turns out it was nothing like I’d heard or seen.  It’s impossible for me to put into words what it’s like to watch someone you love so much slowly lose life.  As he took gasps of breath further and further apart, I expected it to be more peaceful.  People say it’s peaceful.  The truth:  It wasn’t peaceful for me. It was hard.  So hard.  I wanted him to live.  And I wanted him to quit trying to breath.  I don’t even know how to explain those two very conflicting emotions.

And then he stopped.  Stopped trying to live.  And stopped breathing.  His spirit left.  His body stayed. And we all just stood there.  Crying.

What do you do after someone you love stops breathing right before your eyes?   I didn’t know.  There wasn’t the urge to try and get him to breathe again.  I knew it was time.  But what comes next?  What do you say?  What do you do?  Walking away and leaving his body there just felt strange.  My dad went to get a nurse.  She came and listened for a heartbeat.  Then she left for the doctor.  And we all just continued to stand there.

The doctor came to examine his body and it was time for everyone to leave the room.  One last look, but he was already gone.  The body looks different when the spirit leaves.  Not sure how to explain that one either.  It was him.  But it wasn’t him.

I hope his children had a different experience than I did.  I hope it was peaceful for them knowing their dad was about to join their mom who passed away in the San Francisco earthquake in 1989.  He’d also been increasingly sick for the past two months (on top of the previous months of cancer treatments) so a relief from sickness and suffering was a welcomed one.

His personality changed over the months.  His sense of humor left.  That was the hardest for me.  He has such a great sense of humor.  It’s how we bonded.  One time he took me to see a place he called Daffodil hill in California.  Only when we got there (after what seemed like an endless ride) there were no daffodil’s.  Must have been the wrong season.  So every time I went to visit him, I asked if we were going to daffodil-less hill again.  We loved to tease each other.  Our relationship was built on it.  So when I teased him for getting sick and landing in the hospital, he just stared at me.  No response. That’s when I knew things were bad.  And probably weren’t getting better.

I’ve been very pensive since he died.  A close friend of mine lost her dad in a tragic work accident just last week and the two deaths have me thinking.  About a lot of things.

People know we love them by how we act.  By how we treat them.  But it’s also so important to SAY “I love you.”  Showing people we love them is obviously important.  But telling them is too.

Watching someone die is hard.  But oh how grateful I am God gave us that last chance to be with him. Enough time to say goodbye.  But not so much time that the suffering became unbearable for him or us.

I don’t think anyone would say they love hard times, trials, adversity, but the times when our spirits are put to the test are also the times our spirits are knit together.  I’m thankful I got to have this experience with my family.  I think we’re closer having gone through this together.  I think this is true of most hard experiences.  It can pull us apart or knit us together.  Although I felt so much sadness and unrest, I also felt so.much.love.

This has also made me increasingly grateful for photos.  I know, didn’t think it was possible.  But this experience reaffirmed the value of a photograph.  When someone leaves, all we have left are memories.  And photos.  The photographs (for me) are the only way to hold on to the memories.  Photographs have so much value while we’re all still alive, but they are priceless when someone passes away.  Are we taking enough photos of the people we love?  Are we taking photos with them?  Are we taking the RIGHT KIND of photos?

Life is hard.  Death is hard.  But oh how grateful I am for the chance to be here.  To meet the people I meet and love the people I love.  I’m grateful for the life my Uncle lived.  For who he became.  For the friend he was for my mom.  For the laughter and happiness he brought to my life.

His death makes me want to be a better person.  To treat the people around me better.  To be more intentional about how I spend my time.  To show people I love them and to tell people I love them.  I want to make a greater effort to accomplish my big dreams.  And help my children and loved ones do the same.  I want to say yes to adventure and worry less about things that don’t really matter.  I want to DO more.  I want to BE more.

Love you Uncle Jim.  Heaven is lucky to have you.  See you on the flip side.

{This post was originally published on Or So She Says where I am a monthly contributor.}

A friend of mine, who is a divorced single mother, has been struggling with a big decision she needs to make. It will have a significant impact on her life and future as well as an impact on her family (specifically her kids). She’s really struggled knowing what decision to make. She feels confused. Frustrated. And definitely not at peace. She asked for some advice on how to make the decision. How did she know if she was making the right decision?

Another friend posed this question: “Do you believe in miracles? If so, do you believe they’re something we qualify for? If so, how?”

These two friends got me thinking. A lot. About life. And miracles. And God. And prayer. Why some prayers seem to get answered and others don’t.

I started asking myself some questions. How does God work? How do prayers work? Does God hear prayers? How do we know if we’re making the right choices? The ones God wants us to make. And how do we know when God gives us the answer to a prayer?

In regards to my friend making the big decision, I referred her to something I had written about this very idea. Something I’ve really struggled with in the past. How do we know if it (being any decision we have to make) is what God wants me to do?

The short answer comes from a simple scripture:

“For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward.

Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness;

For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves. And inasmuch as men do good they shall in nowise lose their inheritance”

For the most part, I think God wants us to do what we want to do. As long as we’re anxiously engaged in a good cause, He doesn’t necessarily care how we go about doing that. WE get to choose. We get to choose with God. The power is in us to govern ourselves. And make our own choices. And do things that make our souls come alive. So we get to make a decision and go the direction we want to go as long as we’re going about doing good.

Some people don’t like that answer. They want God to just tell them what to do. They think God has a specific plan all laid out for us. That’s how I felt for a long time. But I’ve come around. Now I love this answer. I love that God trusts us to choose paths that make us come alive. To choose things we want to do and to bring good into the world in ways that uniquely fit us. It takes work to figure this out. To know in the first place what we want. To figure out our “why.” But it’s work worth doing. Answers worth figuring out.

My answer to the miracles question from my other friend: “Depends on your definition of a miracle. ‘An event not explicable by natural or scientific law’….I guess people say a miracle is something God does. But I think God governs through laws. We just don’t fully comprehend them. Does God do stuff we don’t understand through our human definitions of natural or scientific law? I say 100% yes. And I think some “miracles” happen because we ask for them.”

Her follow up question: “What do you think of the idea of ask and you will receive? Do you think that we neglect the opportunity for blessings and miracles the Lord would love to provide if only we would ask?”

This led me to one of my favorite things about prayer. My answer to her follow-up question: “YES! I think some blessings are absolutely conditional on our asking for them.”

The bible dictionary on Prayer says:

Prayer is a form of work. God is just waiting for us to ask. I think He expects us to figure out what we want and then ask for it. We may not always get what we ask for, but if we want blessings, if we want answers, if we want miracles, we have to put in the work to figure out what it is we want and WHY we want it. And then we have to ASK Him for it. We need to do the work first. Figure out the places we want to go, things we want to do, blessings we want to receive, and then we present it to God. Showing we’ve done the work and we’re willing to put in the time and effort to get the answer or the blessing.

Donald Miller said in his book Storyline, “I think we are spending a lot of time asking God to tell us what to do when the whole time He’s asking us what we’d like to do instead. I think He’s asking us what’s in our hearts, what makes us come alive, what ignites our passion and saves many lives.”

God assuredly guides and directs us. But the guidance often comes after we’ve done the work to figure out the direction we want to go. And miracles happen every day often because we ask. The key is to do the work to figure out what we really want, to ask God to help us get it, and to trust God will either grant our request or he’ll put on the brakes and let us know we’re headed in the wrong direction or asking for the wrong things.