The other day, I found myself scrolling through years of photographs of my children. We've faithfully taken professional family portraits each year, and I treasure every one of them. But sprinkled between those gorgeous photos are the images I captured on an ordinary afternoon at home, when the light poured through the windows and life simply unfolded.

As I lingered over those photographs, I realized something. The images etched deepest into my heart and mind aren't necessarily the perfectly coordinated ones where everyone is in a beautiful dress and perfectly magazine worthy outfits.  They're the polka-dot twirl dress she insisted on wearing every day, the sparkle boots that never matched a thing, the beloved lovey tucked under an arm, afternoons spent scootering or shooting baskets in the driveway, and the living room floor covered in toys as childhood happened all around us. These are the moments that are seared into my mind and the images that come up when I remember those moments. 

Those photographs feel different because I've lived those moments hundreds of times. They're woven into the fabric of our family's story. Looking at them doesn't just remind me what my children looked like, it brings me back to what it felt like to love them in that season.

One day, these are the photographs I'll pull out for my grandchildren. They'll give life to every "remember when…" and preserve the ordinary moments that quietly became the most extraordinary. Because in the end, those are the memories I never want to lose.

my reason why