Changing Focus: Faith, Photography, and the Uncommon Backyard
I recently changed my path.
I continue to work at my “day job,” a career I have loved for decades—one rooted in service, care, and connection. It has shaped me deeply and remains meaningful work that I’m grateful for every day. But recently, I changed my focus—quite literally—toward my love of photography.
For those who know me best, this shift may not come as a surprise. Photography has always been present in my life, quietly waiting its turn. Still, choosing to give it more space and intention is a significant departure, and like any meaningful change, it requires risk. Any change like this asks for a leap of faith. This shift has become part of my mindful photography journey—one rooted in faith, presence, and learning to truly see what is already in front of me.
Faith, Calling, and the Gift of Serving People
I do have faith—and I believe deeply that I have been gifted with the ability to serve people.
God has given me many avenues to live out that calling. Through a medical career that has allowed me to care for people during vulnerable seasons. Through my love of music, which began as a teenager in school band and choir and taught me how sound can soothe, connect, and express what words cannot. Through cooking, administrative work, gardening—and now, very clearly—through photography.
Each of these gifts may look different, but they are connected by the same purpose: presence, service, and love.
Photography has become another way I can serve people—by seeing them, honoring their stories, and preserving moments that matter.
A Mindful Photography Journey: Learning to Pay Attention
Photography didn’t arrive suddenly. It grew slowly and patiently, the way meaningful things often do.
For years, I’ve noticed light in quiet moments—the way it moves across a room, the way it softens edges, the way it transforms ordinary scenes into something sacred. Long before I ever called myself a photographer, I was watching, noticing, and remembering.
There have been countless mornings driving to work on cold winter days here in Northeast Ohio, admiring how the light dances across freshly fallen snow. The way the sun rises and peeks over the horizon—blindingly bright and impossibly beautiful all at once. Those moments felt like gentle reminders to slow down, even when life felt hurried.
Over time, it became clear that photography wasn’t just something I enjoyed. It was something calling me to pay attention.
Honoring the Career That Shaped Me
Changing focus does not mean abandoning what came before.
My professional life has trained me to observe carefully, listen deeply, and create a sense of safety—skills that shape how I photograph families today. Years of working closely with people have taught me how to recognize vulnerability and move gently within meaningful moments.
That experience follows me into every photography session, whether I’m working with families, children, or creating personal work here at home in Medina County.
Photography is not separate from who I’ve been—it is an extension of it.
Mindfulness, Photography, and Learning to See
Recently, I signed up for a mindfulness and photography class.
It may sound unexpected, but it felt perfectly aligned. Both mindfulness and photography invite us to pause, notice, and be fully present. They encourage us to see what’s already there instead of rushing past it.
That practice led me to a quiet winter morning—one where I had the gift of time. Time to explore something not portrait-related. Time to photograph without expectation.
And that’s when an unexpected subject emerged.
The Uncommon Backyard: A Photography Mini Series
I titled this personal project The Uncommon Backyard.
This mini series is rooted in the belief that beauty surrounds us—even in the most familiar places—if we are willing to look. My own backyard, especially in winter, became a classroom.
Bare branches, frozen textures, long shadows, and soft winter light revealed structure, shape, and grace. If you dare to step into the cold, you discover stillness. You hear the quiet sounds of a sleeping garden. You witness how light defines form and how simplicity can feel expansive.
This series continues to teach me lessons I need to learn:
To pause.
To be still.
To listen.
To trust quiet seasons.
Winter, so often rushed through, offers a blanket of beauty when we allow ourselves to notice it.
Taking the Risk and Trusting the Process
Any shift in direction brings uncertainty. Familiar rhythms feel safe. Growth requires courage.
Choosing to focus more intentionally on photography meant trusting that this gift has purpose. It meant believing that slowing down, noticing, and creating holds value—not only for me, but for the families I serve through my photography business here in Brunswick, Ohio.
Faith doesn’t remove fear—but it gives you something steady to stand on when fear appears.
This leap wasn’t about leaving something behind. It was about saying yes to what has been quietly forming for years.
A Gentle Invitation
The Uncommon Backyard is the beginning of a mini series—one rooted in mindfulness, faith, and the belief that beauty is present even in ordinary spaces and quiet seasons.
As this series continues, my hope is that it encourages you to pause and notice the light in your own life—whether that’s in your backyard, your family, or a fleeting moment you wish you could hold onto just a little longer. This mindful photography journey continues to shape how I see my work, my calling, and the quiet beauty woven into everyday life.
If this way of seeing resonates with you, I invite you to follow along as the series unfolds and explore my work as a family and lifestyle photographer serving Brunswick, Medina County, and the greater Northeast Ohio area.
Sometimes the most meaningful moments are already right in front of us—waiting to be seen.
