Wild Light Creatives by Devina Yancey

09/10/2026

WILDLIGHT EDITORIAL 001

Between Seasons

There’s a strange place between what was and what will be.

And lately, I feel like I’ve been standing there.

This year has held a lot of change.

I’ve watched friends walk through marriages they thought would last forever. I’ve watched people I love fight battles that aren’t always visible. Spiritual battles. Heavy things.

We’ve reached one year of Type 1 with Tucker. One year of numbers, alarms, calculations, highs and lows, and learning a whole new way of caring for our son.

And my kids are growing up.

They need me differently now. They’re becoming their own people right in front of me.

And man, that part of motherhood is beautiful and hard.

But I think I’m changing too.

I’m learning that sometimes obedience looks like staying, and sometimes it looks like knowing when it’s time to step away.

That you can love people and still create distance.

That forgiveness doesn’t always mean access.

That boundaries aren’t bitterness.

And that something can have been deeply meaningful to you and still only have been meant for a season.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been noticing the changing seasons so much lately.

The grass drying out. The evenings getting darker. The last warmth of summer hanging on while you can already feel something different coming.

I can’t hold everything together.

I can’t fight every battle.
I can’t keep my kids little.
I can’t make every relationship whole.
And I don’t always know what God is doing next.

But I can pray.
I can show up.
I can love people well.
And I can trust Him.

09/01/2026

Jessi + Ryan 🤎
Love looks good out there…

08/27/2026

A morning wrapped in fog, tall grass, and the kind of quiet that makes you want to stay awhile.

The Hauser Family ⛰️

08/23/2026

The oil on your life was pressed from places you didn’t survive by accident.

You didn’t just “get through” that season. You were crushed in it. Pressed in it. Stretched in it.

And somehow… you came out different.

Stronger.
Softer.
Deeper.
More discerning.

Olives don’t produce oil without pressure.
And believers don’t carry authority without process.

That betrayal? It refined you.
That loss? It deepened you.
That season of silence? It trained you to hear God without noise.

You thought you were being buried.
He was pressing you for purpose.

Second Corinthians 4:8–9 says,
“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed… struck down, but not destroyed.”

Pressed, but not destroyed.

The pressure didn’t end you.
It extracted something holy from you.

Now when you walk into rooms, there’s weight.
When you pray, there’s depth.
When you speak, there’s oil.

And it didn’t come from a conference.
It came from surviving what should have broken you.

Stop apologizing for your intensity.
Stop shrinking your fire.
Stop downplaying your depth.

That oil cost you something.

It cost you comfort.
It cost you naivety.
It cost you old versions of yourself.

But now?

You don’t just talk about faith.
You carry it.

The pressure was painful.
But it produced power.

And what tried to crush you
actually anointed you.

Natalie Breckenridge 🤎

08/13/2026

Sometimes the best opportunities are the unexpected ones. I got a call to fill a spot for this event, and I’m so grateful I said yes 🤎

07/20/2026

When Sara reached out and asked if I’d photograph belt promotions, I was so excited… and honestly, a little scared.

Not because I didn’t know how to use my camera, but because I cared. I wanted to do these athletes justice. I wanted people to look back at these photos years from now and remember this season of life.

It’s funny how much Jiu Jitsu prepared me for this.

When I first started Jiu Jitsu, I was walking through a really hard season. I’ve always been someone who overthinks. I carry other people’s burdens. I want to get things right, and I don’t like feeling vulnerable.

Starting Jiu Jitsu brought all of those fears to the surface. I was afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of looking silly. Afraid of not being good enough. Afraid of not fitting in.

But something happened.

The mats slowly became a place where all the noise in my head got quieter.

Jiu Jitsu has a way of humbling you while building you at the same time. One day you feel like you’ve finally figured something out, and the next day you’re reminded you still have so much to learn. Even black belts get humbled. That’s just part of the journey.

I’ve realized photography is no different.

I’m learning to stop waiting until I feel confident enough. I’m learning to create anyway. To put my work out there even when it feels vulnerable. To embrace being where I’m at in my photography because that’s where growth happens.

This event stretched me. It challenged me. It made me better.

Thank you to everyone at The Base for trusting me to document such an important day. It means more than you know.

Here’s to doing hard things.
Here’s to being willing to grow.
And here’s to doing it scared.

🖤

07/18/2026

Bittersweet wrapping up Lewis River Little League All-Stars ⚾️

This season, I had the privilege of photographing both of my kids’ teams, Minor Softball and Majors Baseball. What a gift it was to witness their grit, growth, and love for the game.

I’m incredibly proud of each of these athletes and the effort they poured into every inning. It was an honor to preserve these moments, and even more of a blessing to gift these images to their families so they can look back on this season for years to come.

Here’s to the friendships, the victories, the lessons, and the memories that will last long after the final out.

07/14/2026

07/11/2026

It’s live.

What started as a dream I’ve carried since high school has finally become something I get to share with all of you.

Wild Light Creatives was built around a simple belief: there is beauty everywhere if we’re willing to slow down long enough to notice it.

Whether it’s your family, your business, your senior year, the game-winning moment, or the quiet in-between moments that often go unseen, those are the stories I love preserving.

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me, trusted me with your memories, prayed for me, and cheered me on as I stepped outside my comfort zone.