Hi, I'm Jennifer Blair.
There are few things I enjoy more in life than creating art. My aim is to create as a reflection of the Creator. Thanks for stopping by my blog. Here you'll find posts of me work, family adventures, and thoughts on following Jesus in today's world.
Back in April we purchased five tiny caterpillars and took them home. As soon as we got home, Simon grabbed the container off of the counter and dropped it. I thought we had just killed our newly acquired beings. Thankfully, caterpillars are pretty resilient. For 12 days we watched as they grew and grew, waiting anxiously for when they’d make their chrysalis. The kids were mesmerized. It was funny how long we could sit and simply watch them move around in the container. One day we woke up to one in a newly formed chrysalis, and 6 days later we woke up to one emerged butterfly. We released them just in time - the day before a big trip back East. It was a beautiful way to wrap up our school year. They loved watching the caterpillars grow, and I loved watching them grow. (Though I thoroughly enjoyed the caterpillars too.) Watching my kids find joy in learning and in nature is such a blessing to me. Getting to teach them so many thing is such a joy. I both lose and find myself in being their mother and teacher.
There is something extra special about photographing twins. It brings back all the memories of when our twin boys were so tiny. It's a unique and incredible journey to have have multiples. The Bunnell family welcomed the most precious twin baby girls into their family recently. It was such an honor to photograph this precious family and document the arrival of their twin daughters. They were such a dream to photograph. It’s so sweet that twins are so comforted by the nearness of each other. Being a twin mom is pretty incredible.
I love creating things, anything really, whether it is working to make a garden or making art when I photograph my kids. It’s in our DNA to create as image-bearers of God. But I don’t really create from nothing; I create with things God has already made. He is the one who makes things from nothing, and yet invites us to be co-workers with Him. There is no other place I can see this more deeply than in raising children. God does the deepest work of creation, but allows us as mothers to have life grow within us. As children grow, He partners with us in their continued growth and development. They are exactly who He made them to be. We don’t choose their personalities or features, but we do get to be a part of shaping what God is doing in them. What a gift and privilege!
I don’t have to know where I’m going anymore. I’m fine with riding passenger. It’s taken a while to get rid of the bad theology of “The American Dream” (or most of it, I hope). I’m not the “master of my fate” or the “captain of my soul” as stated in Invictus. I’m content, joyful even, to know Jesus is leading me. Even with so many reasons to be discontented, I’ve found God has given me contentment. I’m less “in control” than I have ever been. I honestly don’t even know what this summer or next year will look like, what I’ll be doing, or if things will resolve in so many respects. Yet I know this is where God has led me. So how can I have contentment without any “game plan”?
I don’t think there has ever been a time in my life I haven’t been hoping for something. I’ve struggled throughout my life when there wasn’t something “to look forward to”. If there wasn’t anything, I planned something, anything. When things got hard I comforted myself by looking ahead and thinking, “But I just have to make it until ___ (something fun) comes.” My joy and contentment was very much controlled by the circumstances of my life. (Enter the difficult years.) It’s been a crazy past 4-5 years, full to the brim with difficult things. To name a few: a hurricane crushing our home, my mom dying after a sudden diagnosis of late-stage cancer, my husband having emergency heart surgery at 35, being homeless several times, PTSD, etc…Planning something to look forward to just stopped working for me at some point. When life is so hard you can’t look beyond the next few hours or when what you see ahead only brings more anxiety, you need something MORE. Better. Deeper.
It’s the time of year that many people look back on the year that is drawing to a close and highlight all the good or say “good riddance” and wish for a better year to come. I’ve thought often about what this year means to me in retrospect. It was certainly an “ebenezer” year, and I wish I had an actual stone to put somewhere in remembrance. It was a year I saw a true miracle: God spared my husband’s life when he had, at best, a 2% chance of survival. It was incredible, undeniable and I will never be the same or stop being grateful that we can all still be together as a family. But we can’t tie up our story with a nice bow. We can’t say “God saved Jonathan and this is why.” I can’t negate the dark valley I walked through afterwards or the fact that Jonathan still lives with a medical condition that gives him pain and hinders normal activity. He still can’t run around in the yard with our kids and he’s not back to 100%. The discouragement and limitations that continual nagging pain causes is hard for us both, especially because it looks like there may not be any resolution on the horizon apart from another miracle of God.