Remember my post a while back about totally freaking out that I had a photo shoot? That I almost canceled because I felt so insecure about everything: how I looked, the few pounds I”d gained in the last couple of months of grief, having the “right” clothes, and all that silly girl stuff.
I love my photos. A friend who prayed me through my freak-out told me, “your smile is genuine and sweet.”
Oh, grace upon grace. A genuine smile after all that self-deprecating crap I’d put myself through.
These photos are a complete and total gift. I can’t wait to update the photos on my author website. (Those photos, too, were a complete and perfect gift at the time. That photographer, Kim Liddiard, is amazing.) But 50 plus pounds of weight loss was also a gift, and I look forward to the new-sized me on that site, too.
I’m still awed that my Creator saw fit to let me be a BENew beta tester and to help me through the physical and mental changes necessary to drop the extra pounds.
And now He does it again, abundance overflowing, with new head shot, a gift of Sandy Puc Photography. The ladies behind the camera did much to help bring forward my “genuine” smile, as you know from the post I wrote that day. They had a gift for making me comfortable as well as for capturing the real me. The gals there helped me pick the best shots when I felt overwhelmed, and the generosity of the studio blows me away. I can see why my friend and fellow author Megan DiMaria enjoys working there, and I’m grateful she mentioned me to them when they were talking about photographing women who’d gone through weight loss.
My heart is full.
To think I almost squandered this gift out of fear of not being “enough” that day. Oh, Jesus, will I ever learn?
Why, oh why do I fear the good things You give to me and to my family.
Help me to accept your gifts opened-handed, without fear, without worrying that I am not enough to handle them. Help me not to hide when you want me to step out.
Thank you, faithful blogging friends for your support on my scared day. Thank you for cheering me even when I can’t do that for myself. Thank you for helping me be vulnerable by telling me it matters to you and helps you be real, too.
Until Next time,