I wished for autumn on the first Monday in June, and I think God saw the longing and raised me fulfillment. I needed the life in yesterday’s cool breeze and this perfect rainy morning as I take a deep, cleansing breath before Friday’s wedding.
Would it surprise you to know that I’m scared of this wedding? My bride has nine bridesmaids, and this one has a large referral potential, if I deliver. The nightmares have begun already (oddly enough about not showing up for a wedding I already shot!!!). No matter how much experience I get, no matter how much I shoot, every single session requires more of me than I think I can give, and weddings ask even more.
I’ve been characterized as a successful photographer this week, but I didn’t feel very successful yesterday 900 photos into a two-take self-portrait session with only a few usable avatar images (seriously, those mirror shots are HARD!). I’ve been reeling from a horrible client experience that could have been avoided with a simple contract. I still have some “nails-on-a-chalkboard” issues with my branding, but I’m so busy now with my work I don’t have time to address them all. I know that once my new website goes live, I will be done with redesigns until I can pay someone else to do it for me. Inadequacy has my number; the fraud police are after me…
I miss writing. Perhaps that’s the melancholy that had me wishing for fall this week. Or perhaps it’s the lonely feeling that I’m carrying around as I wonder what my place in the world is now that I can’t keep up with the online pace and etiquette that has given me a place for so long.
I worry about selfishness, because for so long I’ve been able to actively give to someone. But I remembered the other day that I’m still limited. That what I have to give isn’t as much as many in my position are expected to give. I have a husband, two children, a business, and health problems. I can take pictures and share beauty, but I can’t save the world – and I can’t waste my life feeling guilty about it.
We can all only inhabit our lives where we are, if the sky is raining itself out, if people try to suck the life out of you, if the sun doesn’t show for five sessions in a row. We can all only give what we have to give in any moment. Nothing more. We’re not God, and that’s okay. He’s holding the ball that matters, and He has ways of meeting needs that we’ve never imagined. You know, like the feeling of autumn in a Charleston June.
I don’t know what I’ll always have to give, but I can make this promise – I will give what I have. I will get out of bed in the morning. I will be kind. I will love from right here. I will keep seeking and sharing beauty. And I will keep being His. Because when I’ve got nothing else to give, I have Him.