The Simple Things, Vol. II
Volume 2 of a brand new series happening every Tuesday on the blog:
Latte from Echo Coffee. One of my favorites for the abundance of natural light and the complimentary shortbread cookie. Passed 4 Starbucks on my way to it–now that’s determination! Had the pleasure of meeting the owner the other day–he’s a swell guy!
Small things bringing me joy this week:
- This tiny little book: Steal Like an Artist. My sister-in-law (and fellow photographer) gave me this a few months ago as one of the sweetest gifts I’ve ever gotten. It took me awhile to get to it, but once I did, I couldn’t put it down. One of the most inspiring (and practical–both aren’t always easy to get!) read in awhile. A book every kind of dreamer should read.
- This shoot. My sister asked me if I’d like to do a product shoot for the dolls she handcrafts (Sweet Lamb Dolls). It was really a highlight of my summer to get to work alongside family (and to shoot some of my favorite little kiddos–my nieces and nephew!).
- This post by a fellow blogger on body bashing that I came in contact with last week. I’ve known Tamara for awhile now and have been touched by her story and honesty in her blogging.Definitely worth a read!
We were coming home from church on Sunday when Andy came to me with a request, “Honey, I just really want to see you in a t-shirt. Sometimes I see you, and you’re all dressed up, and I think ‘hmmm…that’s not really “Charity”. I want to see “Charity”. Can you wear a t-shirt for me?”. I told him he could pick the one. Thinking it would be my fitted green v-neck he’s complimented me on before, I was surprised when he rounded the corner with an old camp shirt with notes written in permanent marker all over it. Really? That one? Something in my heart was really touched in that moment. As a woman, I’m prone to insecurity as much as the rest. Somewhere in the distraction of the day I’d lost sight of a really important truth: my man loves me for me. Too often the messages from media misshape my perspective (and I know, my man isn’t perfect. They grab at him, too), and I forget the beauty in the simplicity of that reality. I was pointed back to the perfect and gracious love of a God that loves me before I could offer Him anything. How could all of that come from a conversation about a t-shirt? My precious Savior is always at work in the small things.
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