Sisters: They Make Great Roommates, Mothers, & Teachers!

I have three sisters.  They are the dearest women in my life, the ones that know me best and are closest to me.  We're all different, from personalities to eye and hair color, but alas we understand each other very well.  We've gone through phases where one is a little more bonded with another or two share a commonality that the other two don't at that particular point in time, but after every season we come together and understand that what we have is rare and no season will change the love we have for each other.

My older sister, Michelle, the oldest of us four, was always the "boss".  She was always very nurturing towards us smaller ones, except when she was chasing us around the house with the large green Hoover vacuum cleaner. ;)  But she took good care of us when mom and dad were at work, fixing lunches, letting us watch what we wanted on Nickelodeon, and finding us something to do when we were bored, like choreographing full dances with me and a couple of hula hoops..."take it to the bridge....".  She always let us hang out with her and her friends when they came over; I don't recall one time getting kicked out of her room because I was annoying...which I know I was.  When we were super little, Michelle and I shared a room, but after we moved to Yucaipa, we were able to each have our own.  We lived in separate rooms for years, until we were teenagers when we moved to a different house and were forced to live in the same close quarters again.  The first night, however, we were so giddy about it, we couldn't stop laughing.  Night after night were long talks in the dark about boys, school, and our first day working at Subs of USA together.  We both smelled like bacon...as did our bedroom for a little while.  :)  Nonetheless, my years with her as my roommate were wonderful.  Today, she is a wife and a mother of one.  She's still just as silly and nurturing, but smells much better.  :)

Wendi, the 3rd born and the one I like to call "my birthday present", was born 2 days before my 2nd birthday.  I don't remember that far back, but I do have visions of her long, light hair and tough exterior at a very early age.  She took me to her preschool once, I can't remember why, but the class started playing "who stole the cooking from the cookie jar?" and when my name was called, I broke down in tears (I was PAINFULLY shy).  Wendi sat next to me and at 4 years old, looked at her teacher and said, "She doesn't have to play.  Pick someone else."  Then she put her hand on my back, tapped me gently, and said, "It's okay, you don't have to."  She stayed put with her arm around me for the rest of the game.  Many years later, she went to Istanbul, Turkey as a missionary.  She had asked me to speak on her behalf at her commissioning service and I'd never been more honored in my life.  I wrote her a letter that I'd planned to read to the church, but once I got up there I cried and I couldn't stop.  Not for being shy this time, but because this was the farthest she'd ever been from me and I was terrified. Afterwards, she came to me and gave me the tightest hug, assuring me she would be fine.  She left her arm around me a long time, just as she had in preschool.  Over the years, I watched as Wendi came into her own, very independent, serious, and hilariously sarcastic.  There is purpose behind everything she does. She's confident, unafraid, and careful. Today, Wendi is a wife and mother of two.

Becky is the youngest of us four.  I remember the day she came home from the hospital, I was sitting to her left in the back seat.  I remember how pink she was.  I can also remember diaper changing, even her umbilical chord coming out! Weird, right?!  I was everywhere she was when I could be.  As years passed, Becky and I were very close.  When she was scared of lighting or earthquakes, she would come wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me to "scoot over", and then she and her Barney doll would crawl in my little twin bed.  I'd usually wake up squished against the wall and she'd be sprawled out snoozing away.  But I was okay with it.  I recall many times helping her when she got soap in her eyes, tying her shoes, when she was first learning to read, riding a bike, even teaching her to shoot a basketball.  All these things I loved doing, and I took ownership of that role of "teacher" and I was so excited to play that in her life.  As we got older, the maturity gap started to close between us and so I wasn't so motherly anymore, but more sisterly.  We realized that we have a very common taste, so we like many of the same things and are able to connect in those arenas still.  She still makes me laugh, still asks for advice, and loves for me to sleep in her bed when I visit (even though my sleep number is "0" and hers is "rock hard").  I miss her often.

This month, I was able to do a sister shoot with someone I was connected to over Facebook.  There are four girls in their family as well, but one of them couldn't make this shoot.  We did something special for her and I hope she likes it!  In taking their photos, it was so much fun to hear them talk to each other and laugh together.  I missed my sisters painfully that day, but my heart was so full with what I had made for these women on my camera!

              

We Bonded Through Shoes: The Barlow Family

Six years ago, my husband and I took a leap of faith and moved to Texas from California. The morning after we moved, I went to grab a pair of shoes from the closet, but outside of the flip flops I had on my feet the night before, there were no shoes to be found. I remembered putting them in a trash bag and putting them in the driver's seat of our car that was being towed behind the van carrying our whole life in it on the trek in. So, I went out to the car, but they were nowhere. At some point, we assume, they were taken out of the seat when the car was moved and set out in the driveway. At that time, someone either threw them away (they were in a trash bag after all) or obtained a brand new shoe collection. Nonetheless, anything I would have worn to job interviews, or even in the rain, were gone.

This brings me to a family that I hold very near and dear to me, the Barlows. My husband knew them since he was very young so it was natural that they were the ones to welcome us back in to this grand state first. We were invited to their house for dinner, and of course we loved free food on our VERY tight budget, but I was excited to get to know some new folks. We walked in and were greeted with warmth and love...and a brand new bag of shoes!!! Lori had called a couple of ladies and put a shoe donation together. I felt so blessed, and relieved since I had my first interview coming that following week, but even more so, extremely drawn to this family as they were already becoming a very large part of my heart.

Over the years, we've had the privilege of doing life with the Barlows. Lori and I worked together before I began teaching full time, and both of us will never forget the first house we cleaned where we sat on the kitchen floor and wept listening to each other's stories and bonding over how God had brought us to this place. Since then, she's played an intricate role in my life in teaching me the beauty of friendship, marriage, and servanthood. She and her husband, Jim, have been huge encouragers, the givers of sound advice, as well as teachers in leading by example in marriage, family, and love. Their sons, Josh, Zach, and Caleb, are the brothers I never had. We help, encourage, and pick on each other constantly. I've awakened from a dead sleep many times over the years thinking of my brothers, praying that they make it through another night of war, another night of homesickness, or another night of heartache and loneliness. I love them more than they could ever know.

This Christmas, I had the privilege of taking the Barlow's family photos! You'll see a pretty, new addition in there, Sommer, the newest Barlow of the bunch. (She and Josh were married January 8th!) Here's a few shots of this family for your viewing pleasure.