She makes us THREE | We're adopting!

I want to introduce you to a very special little girl! This is our precious daughter, whom we are in process to adopt! It is crazy to think that we didn't know of her existence a month ago... and then four days after an unexpected late-night phone call, she came home.  

“our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on that which we are waiting for.”

— Charles Stanley Ross

O sweet girl, we have waited and prayed for you for so long. You were well worth the wait. My heart is so full. Our joy is great.

In our culture, we want instant gratification and answers. We want it, want it now and want it our way. But this isn't how God works. He loves us too much to reward our tantrums and foot-stompings.

As a loving father, he teaches his children to trust him. He teaches his children to have patience and to be thankful in all things. He asks his children to bring their worries to him. He shows his children that he is quick to comfort and support. 

He teaches his children contentment—in both the asking and the answer.

In waiting, there is contentment. In hoping, there is still contentment. In infertility, there is contentment. In trusting God with your tender heart and your big dreams, there is rest and contentment.

I don't know what you're waiting and praying for in your life, but I want to encourage you to unfurl your white-knuckled grasp and place your heart's desire in the gentle and loving hands of God. 

If I know one thing about God, it is that he is good. He is good and he wants what is best for you—sometimes this looks differently or comes at a different time than we might think is best. He is worthy of your trust and he knows even better than you what you need. 

If you're interested in following along with the unfolding story, check out my personal Instagram (@andiejael) or my Insta-story on my photography instagram (@avisualanthology)!

Fall Gathering | Portland, Oregon

Coming together, feasting is one of my favorite things of the season. This lovely dinner was hosted and created by two of my sister-in-laws, Leslie & Meghan. And my, oh my, wasn't it lovely? I hope you all have an amazing thanksgiving week, surrounded by loved ones!

gather. cook. eat. repeat. 

My Great-Grandpa Fisher

My great grandpa makes remarkable model replica ships. He delicately knots the lines, shapes the hull and sews the sails with his skilled, steady hands. He is 88 and holds a very precious place in my heart. During our short visit in Colorado, we were able to visit for a few short hours—too short. I am so thankful that he let me take some pictures while I was there.

One of my greatest hopes is that one day very soon, he trusts Jesus to be his vessel of grace. Jesus is the only vessel which can sail straight and true through the tempestuous waters of this life, carrying us onward to our desired haven. For as long as I can remember, I have longed for him to know and believe how much God loves him and how much Jesus has done for him.

31st page of the 12th chapter

Month twelve of year twenty-fourteen. I am sad to see the year near a close, but it's a different sort of close than that of a good book. There's an emptiness and almost a loneliness that I feel when I finish a good novel—I grow attached to the characters and become familiar with their world. When the remaining pages are few, I begin to read more and more slowly, putting off the ending as long as possible. At the close of a book, I'm not ready to say goodbye to it all; I wish for more.

I feel very differently about the close of a year. Yes, I have been breathlessly caught up in the adventure of it all, entwined with the characters and have become familiar with the rhythm, rises and routines. The cliffhangers of a year have me at the edge of my chair, but at the close of a year, I don't fear the dust that it will soon gather as the thirty-first page of the twelfth chapter conclude.

I simply wake up the next day. I kiss the neck of the man sleeping beside me, pull on a sweater and tiptoe across the chilly kitchen floor to put a kettle on for coffee. 

This past year brought pleasure and pain, highlights and shadows, crags and chasms. Each have enriched the story in a unique way—after all, what is a story without contrast? 'Tis monotony. A succession of bland interactions; a drone, unvaried in pitch and tone. With heights and depths there are opportunities to respond and feel, to trust and hope, to wait and see.

Ah yes, I will wait and see, because the conductor has not laid his baton to rest. Whether major or minor the chord, the resolve does not occur without the final wave of his hand, and it has not yet waved. I have peeked ahead to see the final movement of the piece, and am reassured to know that the end is more epic than the interlude.

Summer Garden Greens

I've never really been the gardening type. Don't get me wrong, I love botanical products and greens on my dinner plate and in my smoothies, but the actual working of the dirt has never been my forte. In fact, my thumb is anything but green. I kill cacti and air plants. Basil plants hate me.

My husband, on the other hand, loves working the ground. He can grow anything. So, when we started our garden from seed, I had no doubt that he would be able to make fresh, green food spring up... so long as I didn't bring my brown thumb into the equation. 

Taylor is the kind of man who loves hard work. He has strong and calloused hands that till the earth, and with those same hands, he delicately plants seeds and cares for the tender shoots that spring up.

I love those hands. I love this man.