Photo © Tara Cameron 

I heard you gently tapping on my cheek early this morn'
Who tis' this calling so early?
Like the slugs outside my porch, I slowly made my way to the drapes
I began to shut them

But then I wiped my tired eyes and tilted my face up towards yours
Oh, good morning my love
Awakened by a kiss
You are always such a romantic...but why so early dear?

Your kiss is warm and gentle
You play soft melodies as you strum your birds
You send a gentle breeze that soothes my aching body and tired mind
You wrap a soft blanket of love around me...how could I be ill at you?

What's that you say?
Of course my love, you may have this dance
I'll pace back and forth to the rhythm of your heart as I feel it beating against my ear
Accept this offering of praise as I raise my hands towards you

Let's speak in your heavenly tongue so even the devil doesn't know what we share
I know, I know... yes I'm crying...
I know you're saving every tear
I'd only share this part of my heart with you though, dear

Ah... my love, there's a deep ache I feel inside
Could you go and give some of your soothing kisses to these people that I love?
They need you so... I can't kiss them like you can
Please let me intercede if they don't want your kiss just yet

And yes... me too, I know
I forget... me too... I do need you so
Deep anguish is buried inside
Only your precious light can turn those roots into a beautiful flower
Shower me in your light... shower me with more

Let your worker bees spread around your pollen
Because I couldn't keep this just for myself
It's too radiant. It's too magnificant.
It's too glorious not to share

I don't deserve your kisses
Who could ever love me like you do?
No one... no, not no one could kiss me like you do
You wake up so early dear...

But every morning spent bathing in your kisses
is worth every early morning

It's worth it....

... when you're getting kisses from the Son

I spent a lot of time around cameras as a child. I often went to work with my Mom, a (then) portrait studio manager, and watched her in action. I fell in love with the art of photography.

Some where in my memory boxes I still have the photos of my first "photo shoot" stored away. I was about 10, and my little brother was my subject. I posed him, added props, and did everything I learned from observing in my Mom's studio. I even made sure my subject was "centered."

I eventually found my own style for photography. Every artist has their own unique style; we are all intertwined copy cats of each other too.  I became a portrait studio manager. I was promoted to studio manager 3 months after being hired, and it was my very first "real" photography job. I had been taught well as a child how to be a good (studio) photographer. I grew up with those cameras. I knew how to center my subject, to add variety to each pose, be creative, and make sure each picture was in focus. I was passionate about what I focused my lense on, and that made a difference too. Without meaning to, I "booted" the current studio manager out of her position. My sales averages were doubling & trippling hers. I was being sent to other stores in order to bring up their sales averages for the week, and I would tripple their weekly goals in one day. Of course I was promoted to studio manager.

I knew from the beginning that the most important factor in a photograph was the person aiming the lense. That's why I knew how to take a good portrait. 

I learned more about photography in college, and I left the basic rules of portrait photography and learned how to be a photo-journalist. I learned how to tell a story with the photos I produced, how the slightest change in angle can make all the difference in a good picture or a beautiful picture, and how to lead my viewer's eyes to my main focal point.

I learned how to operate my lense, and how to use the manual settings in order to change the focus in the picture. I learned how to make people see exactly what I wanted them to in a scene through depth of field, and I learned that as a photographer, I control what images are captured in my lense.

If I don't like what's in front of my lense I can change it without having to change the object. Objects aren't always easy to change. But it only takes a second for me to change what I view through my lense or how I focus that view.

I learned that it takes more than "point and shoot" to create a good image.

I am learning in my own life that I have the camera in my hands. I can set the camera on auto and point & shoot if I want. Auto is the setting for people who choose to let the objects be in charge of what they see.

Or, I can change the settings to manual and decide for myself what I want to be seen through the lense.
 
"Life is such" when people hurt us.  We have two choices in any enviroment we're put in: We can set our camera on auto or manual.

When we choose to use manual we give ourselves the ability to change what is viewed through the lense. We can't change the people we see in our lense. But we can change how much focus we put into them or if we even want to focus on them at all. We can change how we view them by simple changes in our angle, focus, and style. 

 

In this photograph I chose to do a "depth of field" shot. I didn't blur the images behind & in front of the stamp with an editing program. I used my manual settings to put the focus where I wanted it; though, I can still see the surroundings, and they are also important to me. But I wanted my focus in this photograph to be on the "forever" stamp. Slightly above & to the left of the stamp you can still see a marriage certificate and mine & my husband's names are carefully displayed as well. But the sharpest point of my photo is the forever stamp. I wanted the focus of this photograph to be on the "forever" of my marriage.

I didn't adjust the objects in order to get it focused like that. I adjusted my focus. We tend to look at people in life and we think they need to change in order for us to have peace within ourselves or to overcome the hurts they may have caused us.

I have learned a lot in my lifetime about photography. But the most important lesson that photography has taught me is that I don't have to change the objects in order to view a beautiful picture. God already made this world beautiful, even with its ugliness in the mix. I can change what I view through the lense by changing the controls I have in my own hand.

I don't need to change people who hurt me. That's not even my job. If I have a problem with what I see in my lense then I need to change myself. I can't change people. The grace of God gives me the wisdom to know that. But I can change how I view them. I can change what kind of focus I want to put on them. I can change how I see them in my lense simply by changing myself. My subjects don't decide what I see...unless I have my camera set to auto. We are "auto"matically born with flesh that chooses to allow the subjects who hurt us decide where we aim our lense & how we focus on them.

A simple switch to the manual setting, and I decide where I aim my lense and how I focus it. I decide to make everything that I see in my lense beautiful, even when "ugly" is a part of the composition. When you know how to use manual properly you can even make "ugly" look beautiful.

Life is beautiful when you keep your settings on manual...because you choose to adjust yourself rather than the objects around you. You realize that adjusting yourself is all you need to do.

(All photographs in this blog © of Tara Cameron.)

"I want to be beautiful" the little girl said to God one night at bedtime prayer. 

The little girl danced in front of the mirror in heels that didn't fit and Mama's Sunday hat... "I want to be beautiful" she sang.

Little eyes flipped through magazine images while she waited with Mama in the doctor's office for her check-up. "I want to be beautiful" she thought. 

...The young lady stood in front of the mirror examining her new curves... "I wish I were beautiful" she said to herself.  

One night in a dream she heard a voice say, "Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised....

Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies...

Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come...

She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness...

Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all...

Hear me my daughter this eve'... wake up and be beautiful."

There's nothing like the peace of God when you're a mother of six!

Last night I babysat two babies, 2 & under. And for the past few days, I've also been taking care of a 5 month old baby to help out his Mom.
 
And if that doesn't paint a picture for you, pencil in my 1 year old twins, and also my 5, 7,8, and 10 year old. (Though, on this particular evening the 7 & 8 year old were spending the night elsewhere.) I still had 7 kids, even with two of them gone. 

In the midst of the chaos, my husband said, "I don't know how you do this." I knew he was referring to chaos. In this particular scenerio, two 5 month old babies crying, two twins running around who need a "dwink" & want mommy to hold them (with one baby already on my chest in a moby wrap & another in my arms,) a 5 year old who's still hungry & whining, an adorable two year old who only speaks "monkey" and I can't figure out a thing he needs... (heehee, really!)... etc, etc.
 
And I thought to myself, "What chaos?"

That was the defining moment I realized that I'd been given a very divine gift of true peace from God. 

Is there such a thing? And why do some people seem to have this gift & others don't?

First of all, let's see what the Word says about peace. Scripture is a very important tool to apply to our lives. It's not something you should skim over or just ignore all together. The Word is a manual for living our lives. It's important to always read the instructions before attempting to put it together yourself! (To name just a few scriptures on peace:)  

Psalms 29:11 says, "The LORD will give strength unto his people; the LORD will bless his people with peace."

Psalms 119:165,  
"Great peace have they which love thy law: and nothing shall offend them."

Isaiah 32:17
"And the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever."

Isaiah 54:13
"And all thy children [shall be] taught of the LORD; and great [shall be] the peace of thy children."

Mark 4:39
"And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."

Romans 8:6
"For to be carnally minded [is] death; but to be spiritually minded [is] life and peace. "


Phil 4:7-9
"And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things [are] honest, whatsoever things [are] just, whatsoever things [are] pure, whatsoever things [are] lovely, whatsoever things [are] of good report; if [there be] any virtue, and if [there be] any praise, think on these things.

Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you."

And this one really brings it home:
Luke 8:48
"And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace."

My WHAT has made me WHOLE?! FAITH makes us WHOLE, and when we are WHOLE.... there is... PEACE.

Why do some people have this gift of peace? Because they have true faith, which makes them whole. To have true faith, one must WALK in that faith, everyday. True faith isn't a building you go visit every Sunday.

True faith is waking up every morning with Jesus on your mind...waking up and talking to him.

True faith lives in holiness according to His Word, and studies His Word so that it can imprint itself on the heart. 

True faith desires to and sets themselves a part from the carnal world.

True faith believes in the power of prayer, intercession, and carries a burden for other souls.

True faith stumbles, but gets up, dusts themselves off, and keeps marching on.

This faith makes a person whole. If you're not whole in your life reasses your faith. When you've found what you're lacking in faith, DIVE right into it and never look back! When you're whole inside and out, the divine peace of God can't help but consume your life. 

Maybe you do walk in faith & find yourself needing some peace.  So you're still wondering why you are experiencing this lack of peace. I have two things to say about it: Tell the devil to shut up! And go back to His Word and hold him to it! He's a man of His Word! So pray the Word and scriptures of peace into your life today!

When my home is full of chaos... crying babies, arguing siblings, tattling, whining... LIFE, it does not consume me.

I have a peace inside me that says, "Deal with one issue at a time. Stay calm. Prioritize (Feed crying babies first, etc.) Praise them continually. Correct them with love. Pick your battles. Use your inside voice. Don't forget to breathe!"

That peace makes every bit of chaotic, rambunctious craziness in my life the most beautiful gifts in life, to me. I can look at the chaos and smile. I can look at it and say, "Wow. Life sure is beautiful. He sure has blessed me!"

I'm not perfect. There's no question about that. But I get up everyday and try. I get up everyday and march on. And God gives me peace.  

I'm not just a housewife or a Mom. I'm a T.I. training soldiers! And when it gets dark outside, when my little soldiers are sound asleep in their beds, and the tick tock sound of the clock is deafening... I talk to God.

I also spend time chasing my dreams and thinking about my goals, needs, and desires. I find that they are always "What ever you want me to do Lord, here I am" kind of goals. But they're mine. Because my desire and passion is to serve Him. I serve Him by also serving others.

I do my best to follow the path He guides me down, and I never forget to stop and watch the butterflies. Because those butterflies are His little sprinkles of peace upon my soul. I absorb every drop. And I march on... in peace. Amen.

Tightly swaddled in your wrath you wonder how you'll move on from here.
Submerged in your afflictions brought on by flesh and evil malignant spirits...
you ponder... who loves your soul more?

You doubt that you will ever turn back and somehow ought press on.
But the laceration in your heart says, "no, no more."
Mortals who've inflicted the wounds turn your window panes cold.
The frost drips morsels down into your gut who escorts them fiercely to your soul.

Your carnal and savage will loathes the sight of them.
But your metaphysical God pricks your cheeky conscience back into submission.
You desire to spew your agony back upon those who placed it there, tenfold.
And then you recall the plank in your own eye...

... and how many tears you... you...you, must've brought your God.

...and how many times he embraced you even when your heart was ugly.
...and how many times he loved you when your mouth was depraved.
...and how many times he reached for you even when you had no loyalty for him.

...and how his unconditional love for you drew your heart into remorse, and that personal responsibility and anguish extracted the compassion back out from the depths of your soul.

...and your heart was once again free to adulate your God in complete ecstasy.
And so you were reminded that if you are made in his image you shall also love as he loves.

And you learned that this is how you shall move on.

As I was sitting in the waiting room of my doctor's office yesterday, I observed. The room is always full of elderly folk everytime I go in. I don't know what it is about my Dr. that his patients consistent of elderly folk... and then, me of course. But they do. I suppose I fit in though, with all my chronic aches & pains.

As I observed (for a good 30 minutes or so) I actually enjoyed myself. There is nothing like making the time pass by watching old people wait in a waiting room. I know that sounds sarcastic, but let me explain...

I first noticed Florence. I don't know that Florence is her real name, but she looks like a Florence, so that's what we'll call her. When I came in, she had one of the receptionists sitting next to her in the waiting room. They were chattering, whispering in each other's ears, and giggling like a couple of school girls.

Everything about Florence was perfectly & maticulously placed. She wore a long skirt & matching shirt. She had on light make-up that gave her wrinkled cheeks just the right rosy-red effect. Her hair was up in a french twist, and the top of her head was covered in blonde curls to follow the twist. It was the most perfect twist and curls I'd ever seen. Not a hair on her head moved. I figured she must've been wearing hair pieces, because I don't even think 20 year olds have hair that perfectly beautiful (Florence will be 70 in March by the way, as I overheard her say.) But she wore the hair well.

She wore jewerly... a lot of jewelry. She wore big earnings, big necklaces, several bracelets, and really big rings on her fingers. You could hear the "clink-clink" as the metals brushed against each other each time she moved.

She had the attitude and the walk to match her attire. If I had to imagine what a southern belle in the South looks like, I'd say they look like her.

She was cute though, and friendly. She liked to chat with the receptionists and cut up with them. She would also start chatting with anyone who sat next to her.

I noticed she wasn't wearing socks. She wore stockings instead. And as I began to look around at all the other feet in the room, I noticed that I was the only woman wearing socks. There must've been about 10 elderly woman in the room with me. Not one of them had on a pair of socks. They all wore stockings, even the ones wearing pants. One woman was wearing a plain jean skirt like me, and even she wore stockings. At first I thought," don't these women's feet get cold? I must be the only sane one in the room."And then I realized, I'm the only one in socks. So I became self-conscious. I crossed my ankles and began to tuck my feet up under my chair.

I started looking around at the others in the room and observing them. There were about 3 who were couples. I thought the older couples were cute. I think I heard one ask his wife if she remembered his Geritol.

I saw one man walk in pushing his wife in a wheel chair, with her oxygen tank in tow. He could barely walk himself. She had short, red curly hair...obviously a wig. They sat next to Florence. I heard them making small talk. Florence asked them what their favorite places were to eat. He began going down the list, and then said that he just picks it up & takes it home now... since the wheelchair. His wife wasn't wearing socks either.

Florence mentioned her husband a lot. I think he had passed away. She spoke about him in this manner..."when my husband was.... my husband used to..." etc.

One thing I noticed about the couples was that they seemed to move as one unit. They each knew the other's persons next move or next word, and they were in sync. I noticed that one couple didn't even have to make complete sentences with each other. Husband would start to say something, and before I could even tell what he was saying, wife would nodd her head, smile, and say okay... and vice versa. It was like they had their own secret language, like listening to the oriental workers at the nail salon, and wondering if they're talking about you.

I started to imagine what these women looked like when they were my age. I imagined black & white photos neatly placed in their albums back home, and then I thought to myself, "I hope my computer never crashes, or no one will have an album to go through when I'm old."

I thought about the socks none of them were wearing. There must be a reason. I thought, "A different time and age." And then I wondered, what was that time and age? A time when socks were only for men... a time when just going to the dr's office meant looking your Sunday best and looking like a lady. It was a time when couples stayed together for so long, they literally became one unit. What was divorce anyway? A time where photo albums weren't a mouse & a click away, but a set of books on a shelf.

Yes, times have sure changed. I keep telling myself I'll back up all those photos on the computer and then I never seem to have time. These women must gasp to themselves when they see the young ladies today walking through Wal Mart in their pajamas. My stringy hair must look awful just hanging down. Now I know why Grandma always used to tell me, "get your hair out of your face." I get the impression that not pulling your hair back somehow wasn't lady-like at one time. None of these women let their hang like mine was. Each of them had fixed it neatly. And I get the impression that socks were something men used to wear, like a lot of other apparel we all wear today.

I know times change... but for the life of me, sometimes I just can't figure out why.