inspired monday: abigail smith

i don’t really know how to start this post. i wasn’t going to use my voice– i hadn’t even considered sharing this story here on my blog until i saw another photographer had also shared it and wrote the words, “If you’re a photographer, blogger, or social media guru with any type of platform… I would encourage you to share her story.”  it was katelyn james.

i’m starting to realize that i am one of those people. someone with a platform. sometimes it feels like i am writing to myself out here (lol), but time and time again i’ve been reminded that people actually do listen to what i have to say. i’m always happily surprised to hear that someone has taken the time to read the words and view the images that come straight from my heart. it’s the most incredible thing.

it’s the end of the year. that sentence alone can bring up so much for people…whether it’s personal, professional, academic, family-related, or whatever else. usually the year’s end brings about stress in any or all of those areas, and at times it can feel almost overwhelming to deal with. do you ever wish life had a fast-forward button where you could say oh, hey, i’m just going to skip XYZ and see what life is like X amount of days from now? yeah. that’s just about the opposite of mindfulness. not great.

tonight (or technically last night, as it’s in the wee hours of monday now) i sat on my couch and felt pretty pensive. my mind was feeding on the remnants of a deep conversation i had just had. out of habit, i browsed one of the photography facebook groups i’m a part of and stumbled across a post. that post led me to this facebook page. that facebook page told me the story of abigail smith, a photographer who recently passed away from cancer. she was twenty-four.

she was twenty-four and her beauty shined, inside and out. she lived her life to the fullest, up until the day she died. i browsed her page and her blog and watched two video documentaries she recorded. (both are listed below.) and i sat and i cried.

once i heard her speak the words

“If I could go back and tell myself what the hardest struggle was, it wouldn’t be cancer. It would be myself because I almost made it out to be even worse than it was. I was constantly having to deal with feelings of anxiety, fear, and all these things. If I would have only taken it one day at a time, only one minute at a time, one hour and put my complete trust in Christ. That is what I have learned to do and am learning to do each day.”

i knew that i hadn’t stumbled across her story by accident.

we live life to the fullest when we take it one day at a time. one hour at a time. one minute at a time. not three days, six weeks, 4 years or even 25 hours at a time. sometimes i need to be reminded of that.

she was twenty-four. she was only two years older than me. hearing abigail’s story made me think a lot about mine. and about how silly of me it is to think that mine is trivial or insignificant. i’ve never been diagnosed with cancer, but i still have a story to tell. and so do you. how dare we let anything hold us back.

there was a verse that came into my mind earlier today. it has a great significance to me for many reasons, but i’m going to share it with you because it’s on my heart.

“Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God. Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant–not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold.” 2 Corinthians 3: 4-6, 12

thank you, abigail, for living so boldly and so faithfully. thank you for helping those of us still here on earth to do the same. i hope you are wrapped in heavenly bliss.


to hear abigail’s story, view the videos below.

to donate to her fund, please click here:

if you feel so called, please share her story with others. you never know how someone else can be touched by it. she may just speak the very words their soul needs to hear.