K. Lisbeth Photography

I’m alive! (I know you were worried.)

I haven’t been writing much lately due to a large change in where I’m focusing my creativity. (Although, let’s be honest here…I wasn’t writing much anyways.)

Introducing… K. Lisbeth Photography!

2014.3.21 Cru (5 of 58) 2013.3.31 Jake and Amanda (51 of 105) Hoyt Arboretum (1 of 1)

I’ve begun teaching myself how to use my camera, edit, and get the look I want in my photos. It’s a blast…I can’t believe I didn’t start sooner! Right now I’m working to build clientele. I have a crazy affordable Groupon deal going right now. Check it out! Tell your friends! I would love to take your photos!

Contact me through:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/klisbethphotography

Email: kaishabannon@gmail.com

Phone: (360)927-7493

1 Corinthians 2.9

“No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.”

I spent 3 hours painstakingly painting that verse on a crinkled brown piece of paper I had saved from the wrappings on a bouquet of flowers. The painting didn’t turn out that great. It’s hard to get the letters straight and the same size. And it’s not really bold enough on the wall because I painted the letters too skinny.

But it was good for my heart to slowly write those words. It forced me to think on what they mean.

It’s the end of week 4 of joblessness. 40 applications, 3 interviews, 10 resume drop offs, 3 nanny websites plus craigslist, 200 website checks for new positions, 20 nights sitting home alone.

It’s getting a little old. A little frustrating, a little boring, a little discouraging, a little lonely.

But God says that his plans for me bigger than my imagination. I suppose that means that I could end up with some crazy good job that impacts someone’s life in a huge way. Or that he moves us to some foreign country to do missions. Or that I have an opportunity to take a photography class and somehow become a famous photographer…or writer or crafty person or whatever. Or I suppose it could mean he leads me into some not so great situation that as far as I’m concerned kind of a bummer…but uses it to change lives that I don’t even know about. Whatever it is…I know I can trust him to find me the right job at the right time.

I love him. So in the end of the big picture…I will have an impact that is beyond anything I’ve ever seen, heard of, or even imagined.

You are about to realize that I’m actually a nutcase.

It’s been a long week of minimal social interaction. For real. A fifteen minute interview Tuesday and youth group on Wednesday. And no work. Cody doesn’t count…and phone calls don’t really either. Although in my desperate need for a social life I can truly say that an hour long phone call with my mom is the most girl time I’ve had since she visited a month ago.

I realized about 5 minutes ago that it’s all starting to get to me. I very suddenly reached a point where I began having fake conversations with my lesbian neighbors and started making the facial expressions and hand gestures like it was real…while I walked in circles in my very small kitchen trying to decide if I was hungry and what I should do. Which lead into a tuneless song about Harry Potter while I went to fetch the book from my room. The people on friends, Harry Potter and I have our own little club for 10 hours every day while Cody’s at work. It’s great. Until I break off from the group to obsessively check craigslist, sitter city, and care for new job postings. Nanny websites are my new facebook.

And then I woke up from my reverie of fake neighborly conversations and realized that these crazy moods surprisingly don’t happen all that often and I should take advantage and write something weird and entertaining that I’ll later regret.

I’m pretty sure this is the fastest I’ve ever written a blog post. Also the longest I’ve ever allowed my paragraphs to be. I hate fat paragraphs.

Inadequate

Inadequate.

It’s been circling my brain lately. In not such a good way.

‘You aren’t good enough to mentor high school girls. You aren’t experienced enough to find a decent dental assistant job. You aren’t devoted enough to be a good Christian. You aren’t selfless enough to love your husband right. You are undeserving, inexperienced, messed up, selfish, and broken. There is no way you can do that. You are inadequate.’

It plays on repeat. I try not to listen. I live my life despite it. But eventually it wears me down until I’m simply too tired to do anything but watch some Friends and laugh.

The thing is alot of it is true. I am broken, messed up, inexperienced, and selfish.

What I forget is the counter truth: Jesus.

He makes up for my inadequacies. He is everything I am not, he has everything I am lacking. And I have him so I am adequate. He is what makes me good enough to face life. By myself I’m not so great, and definitely not all that qualified for anything. But he is.

i have no idea what this post is about. i felt the need to be a more consistent blogger…so I opened it up and wrote

The summer has been different. Good different. Also bad different.

Mostly because I transitioned from nannying four hours a day every day; to ten hrs a day, two weeks on, two weeks off. My work days are now opposite of Cody’s, so we essentially don’t see during the week. Which feels completely stupid.

On the other hand, the two weeks off have given me all sorts of time to visit people and be crafty. The craftiness isn’t going quite as I had planned. But the visiting has gone superb. I spent two nights with my dad and baby sisters. Then two nights in my hometown visiting five or so friends and some family too. Then a whopping nine day trip out to Montana to go on vacation with my mom, step-dad, and family, where I contracted the most impressive tan ever. I’ve also had a visit from my grandma, a visit from my mom and sister planned, a hopeful camping trip with my dad and another hometown trip in the works.

It’s been crazy. Which is good. It distracts me from my sad little self…usually. I found myself fighting tears for two days straight while on vacation with my family. Frustrating to say the least…sun, boating, tubing, and sisters should do the trick right? It reminds me that my depression is real. It’s not drama. It’s not overreacting. It’s life and me and my hard thing right now.

I start to feel like there is something wrong with me. I must be brain damaged. Or sick and delusional. Or crazy out of this world selfish. I beg Cody through tears to tell me what’s wrong with me. His answer is always: ‘Nothing. It’s ok for you to feel sad. It’s normal. Stop telling yourself there’s something wrong with you, because there’s not. Everything’s ok. You’re ok and God is good.’ I really should tattoo that on my arm so that the poor guy doesn’t have to repeat it so often. And I hope I figure it out someday for real. I hope it sinks in so that I don’t panic when I can’t reverse my sadness. But for now Cody will just have to repeat it.

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to be real

It has been along time. And my excuses are not that impressive:

I forgot.

I don’t write if I don’t have anything noteworthy to say. Which is a bad habit for any writer. Brilliance doesn’t come when you’re sitting around waiting for it.

I learned that depression is real and not made up by overly dramatic people. One result of continuous bummed-outness is a downward plunge in the desire to be social or communicative…even on blogs.

It’s not necessarily healthy to indulge my tendencies to seclusion; but being depressed doesn’t make it any easier to transform my introvertedness into something social…ish.

I hate admitting my struggle with depression. It’s far from the horrors it could be, and I feel guilty knowing my sadness can’t even compare to degree others suffer from it. Things in my life are actually pretty swell too so it feels like I’m overreacting to nothing. If anything I should be overjoyed with life right now.

But there’s no doubt it’s real. There’s clear moments where I know I’m not being silly, emotional, or exaggerating my feelings. My heart rate goes up, irrational fear fills me, and it feels like I’m watching myself do normal life from a dark dirty corner. Literally.

For years I firmly believed that depression was sin. Black and white. A person saved by Jesus should be constantly ecstatic. He has saved me, loved me, showed me mercy, grace and forgiveness literally without measure. He is so much bigger than my pain or problems. If sadness hits…it seems only true that God’s goodness in me should so dwarf my pain that dwelling on it would be wrong.

And maybe so…

But what about all those times in the Bible where Yahweh himself is sad:

Then the Israelites put aside their foreign gods and served the LORD. And he was grieved by their misery.    Judges 10.16

Oh, how often they rebelled against him in the wilderness and grieved his heart in that dry wasteland.    Psalm 78.40

And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.     Ephesians 4.30

Then Jesus wept.     John 11.35

Now as He drew near, He saw the city and wept over it.     Luke 19.41

And being in agony, he prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling to the ground.     Luke 22.44

Jesus was in such emotional turmoil about what his circumstances that he even asked the Father if there was another way. Jesus was perfect.

God himself is sad and upset by the messed-upness of this world. The people he made in his very own likeness whom he dearly loves and adores live in a chaotic horrific world that leaves them broken at every turn. Not to mention the way we have relentlessly hurt his heart and abused his love many times over.

God knows better than anyone how well things will end. How at the end of it all, his church will be saved, and the world will be as it was supposed to be when it was made. He does not doubt his own plan, goodness, and love. But he’s still sad. The reality of goodness doesn’t mean we have to deny the reality of pain. Both are equally true.

And as far as my own little crying heart goes…that’s pretty much all it has figured out. To not deny the realness of the pain. And to recognize that there are legitimate reasons for sadness and even depression.

Still, joy is a learning curve. It takes practice, choice, and guts. And this I don’t have figured out. I can choose joy…but I squash the sad. Or I give into the sad and can’t choose joy. Both are wrong.

But I realize…I’m excited to learn. It may take years and years. But my Savior will not leave me treading water. He will teach me how to balance grief and joy and I will know him better for experiencing both.

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…cody still holds true to his promise to never let me go a day without flowers . it’s 2 1/2 years…

things that happened while I was ignoring you

my apologies for being a lousy blogger. but i have a life (code for nothing smart enough in my brain to write about). so get over it. however I will try to appease your gallimaufry withdrawals with this little photo update:

20130531-222648.jpgCody was kind enough to drive me all the way to Montana to see my family and attend a dear friend’s wedding

20130531-222701.jpgCody turned 21…finally. i no longer have to buy his beer. You’d think being his sole provider of beer would be a wonderful advantage as his wife. Unfortunately I’m too nice for that. Which makes it simply a pain.

20130531-222721.jpgThis brave 6 year old had an successful 8 hr heart surgery and obviously came through strong and proud…and no longer purple.

20130531-222744.jpgWe brought this annoyance home. I promptly fell in love right before the realization that Cody is simply too allergic for a happy ending.

20130531-222753.jpgThis beauty got hitched.

20130531-222818.jpgI taught myself a little bit of this…

20130531-222840.jpg…and some of that.

20130531-222914.jpgAnd ink happened.

heaven

If you think about it honestly…who really wants to sing to harp music and be blinded by golden streets for eternity. It’s definitely better than the other option but still…as much as I am ecstatic be with Jesus, I will admit the traditional picture of heaven gives me the yawns.

I really don’t think this is what heaven will be like at all. God created us with the built in desire to create, imagine, work, and socialize. This was part of life before things went wrong in the beginning, and I’m fairly certain these human traits won’t just vanish in the end either.

I’ve always imagined heaven more like C.S. Lewis describes it in the last Narnia book. Narnia heaven has the same geography as the old Narnia…everything is just so much magnificently better! Who knows what it will exactly be like. But I’m fairly certain that when Christ comes back to establish his perfect kingdom…it’s going to look like he intended it to look like in the beginning: his people living in unity creating and working and building for him. Only this time we won’t have the option to mess it up.

God’s will…???

The battle to figure out God’s will. Honestly, I’ve never sweated about the whole thing that much.

For the most part I think God wants you to live the same way He would live your life if He were you. I mean, He was a carpenter. He was probably fair to customers and did his job well and showed love to everyone he met. So that’s been my goal: do what’s in front of me well and love people. And when it came to big stuff I made the best decision I could and expected if that wasn’t where God wanted me, he’d stop me.

But recently it’s been nagging at me. I suddenly realize I have choices. Choices that are all good. I could follow any path and live like Jesus. There’s the logical and wise way. There’s the comfortable way; and the scary, adventurous, sacrificial way, that could be downright unwise.

But suddenly questions are popping into my brain. And with them comes a fear of doing the wrong thing.

If I choose the adventure I could probably never go back to the logical. The comfortable really doesn’t make much sense but it’d do the job and is versatile. My heart keeps going back to the adventure, but would that choice be stupid? Has God called me to the adventure? I could take that path later…but should I now? I had planned for the logical way. And most people would probably advise me to stay safe.

At the end of the questions, a few tears, and an extra sleepless hour in bed…the end question is: where does God want me?

And I have no idea.

So I pray. I talk to people, gather information, pray some more. And then I’ll pick one and go for it. And if it’s not where God wants me…then it won’t work out.

moved

We are officially big city people. We moved across the river, North Portlandia is our home. And to be honest I feel more at home here. We are three blocks from a street crammed with freaky-good restaurants, bike shops, music stores, a children’s book store, coffee, tea, crafty things, a market. We are surrounded by hipsters, hippies, college folk, crazy bikers, make your own beer dudes, weirdos with a little b.o., kiddos wearing clothes I want, the use your own grocery bag type humans, bearded beanie-wearing homegrown organic types, the happy, sad, messed up, and torn, biking their way through rain and life with no purpose folks.

And if multiple denied apartment applications give any hint of where God wants us…this must be it. Now, to bring a bit of Jesus to this place.