About

Welcome!

I hope to capture the simple beauty of our world through photography and reflect on God’s presence in our lives through words. May this space encourage you to lift your eyes to see the source of all true joy, Jesus. He was called “Immanuel” meaning “God with us.” My stories are simply that- “God with us” stories. 

A while ago, I came across the verse “in Your light, we see light.” (Psalm 36:9) and the initial seed of a future, unknown creative endeavor called “Lilley in the Light” was planted. Eventually, it made its way here, to this blog. There’s nothing better in life than knowing and being known by God. His forgiveness, love, and mercy is unfathomable. His Spirit is alive, moving in each of our lives if we have eyes to see. 

To read more about the initial birth of this blog, read my first post The Seed and the Stew. 











Popular posts from this blog

Let's Fly

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      I finally have a quiet moment in the house. All the kids are in their rooms for a nap or quiet play for the next hour, a blessed event indeed. A myriad of things I could/ need/ want to do tumble around in my mind.            Absentmindedly, I reach for a small butterfly field guide I recently purchased on a girls trip to the Smoky Mountains. Painting watercolor butterflies has been my creative attempt this summer and I figured I could practice with photos from this book.       A homemade bookmark from my son lays tucked inside from last night when I marked the next butterfly I wanted to paint. Bright orange with black lines, it’s boldness had caught my eye: the Gulf Fritillary.      Opening the book again, I glance at the photo on the following page with the below view of it’s wings where my breath catches. I know this butterfly . I hurry out to our sunporch where my framed photo of a b...
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Muddied hands || a poem

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  *This poem was inspired by a writing prompt from Exhale, an online community for mamas who love to create in the margins of motherhood. The prompt was to take a picture of someone and begin your piece with “I want to remember you this way.” I had just pulled out my camera to snap pictures of my kids playing in the mud and so this fit together perfectly.* I want to remember you this way muddied hands, messy bangs crouched and focused where from dirt and water imaginations bloom and fairy houses form. I want to remember you this way crooked front teeth, wide smile laughing and free where time is limitless and bordem begets creativity. I want to remember you this way sun-kissed freckles, sea blue eyes safe and held where gravity and love tether us as we sit beneath the trees.
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The stump

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         "We need to thank God," he whispered.      The sun hadn’t yet risen on this cold Monday in February. My husband, who had already been up for 30 minutes, shuffled back into our bedroom to deliver the news. “You know that crash we heard last night?” he said as he held my hand. “An oak tree fell. Away from our house.” My sleepy eyes widened, the shock of that statement reverberating through me. Suddenly, I was very awake. We talked for a moment before he headed back downstairs. There was, after all, still a day ahead of coffee, breakfast, school drop off, work, emails, and now, calling our friend to come take a chain saw to this fallen giant.  Our many oak trees have always been a liability. But they are also my favorite thing about our land. On a humid Saturday in August nearly five and half years ago, we first pulled up to this home as a potential buyer. We had entered or driven by around fifteen homes for sale. Weary from th...
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Shining Light || A poem

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       Five days after Hurricane Helene ripped through our yard, my husband went to the store to buy more chainsaw oil and returned with tulip and daffodil bulbs. “An act of resistance in the face of destruction,” he announced. One of the many reasons why I married this man. Hope would still push up through the soil of our patch of earth.      We would donate to organizations on the ground in WNC, reach out to neighbors, buy food to restock our local food panty, and pray for the devastation that followed the storm. All the while, we would hope. Hope for rescue, for miracles, for open doors to share about Jesus, for laughter, for redemption. As we sat in darkness without power for eight days, we would hope for light- physically and spiritually in our world. Interestingly, Helene means “shining light.”      I resisted despair by marveling at all the tiny creatures and parts of creation that were not destroyed- how did the zinnia petals and...
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The Butterfly

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     Aside from the abundance of ways God speaks to us through Scripture, I believe he also speaks through life circumstances, events both big and small.  Moments where insight and truth can be illuminated in new ways. One look at the Bible suggests God can use anything to get his message across- donkeys, dry bones, and burning bushes- just to name a few. Jesus frequently employed analogies containing agriculture, food, light, birth, marriage, or business. 
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