Happy Bloggy Birthday

Update:Thanks to all of you for celebrating my bloggy birthday with me! And congratulations to Kristina! The random number generator chose her comment as the winner for the necklace below. Kristina is a sweet friend of mine and I know you'll love her blog as much as I do so I hope you'll stop by to say hello! The necklace is still on sale at www.dayspring.com and you can use my friends and family code (holley20) for an extra 20% off too.

 

I'm heading to the She Speaks conference in North Carolina. While I'm there my blog will celebrate a birthday! I kicked it all off with this post so I'm sharing it again...

 

I recently read a story about a newly discovered underground cave. One scientist called the cave “a beautiful anomaly.” An anomaly is something unusual, or in other words, weird. The scientists were delighted with this cave and dubbed it a national treasure.

Through that story, God got me thinking about how we all have underground caves in our lives. They may be quirks, regrets, hidden habits, or any number of things.

We usually work hard to keep people away from them. But perhaps they’re actually “beautiful anomalies” (or that’s what God can make them) and we should invite people into those places.

So I’ve decided to kick off this blog by sharing some of my underground cave stuff with you. It ranges from silly to serious.

My Top Ten Beautiful Anomalies

1. I change the lyrics to eighties songs and sing them to my dog.
2. I eat really weird, spicy things that make my friends shriek “Holley!” in the middle of restaurants. 
3. When I’m thinking really hard about something I totally zone out. For example, the other day I put deodorant on my lips instead of chapstick.
4. I have trouble getting out of bed on time. I even put chocolate on my alarm clock and it still didn’t work.
5. I’m more afraid of failure than I am of snakes or spiders.
6. I wasn’t “popular” in high school…and I wanted to be.
7. I have a baby in heaven.
8. I’m unusually fond of turtles and short, fat dogs.
9. I’m named after my Grandpa Hollie and he’s my hero.
10. When I get really nervous, I sweat and think there’s something in my nose.

(By the way, all of the above are still true. I could add a few more like "11. I have an embarassing tendency to wander into the men's room--especially at conferences." Good thing there won't be any men at She Speaks!) 

Just in case you’re beginning to wonder, the point of all this is to declare up front that I don’t have it all together—and no one who comes to this blog is required to either.

Yes, I’m a Christian greeting card writer. But I’m also a wife, daughter, friend, and mixed up, messed up, saved-by-grace girl who gets by in spite of herself every day.

I imagine (or at least hope) you’re a lot like me too.

And you know what? God loves us that way. He knows all about our underground caves, our quirks, the things we think make us weird. Those anomalies may even be part of the story He is writing and we are living out.

I believe God has “beautiful anomalies” too. And His infinite capacity to love us as we are will always be one of my favorites.

What birthday would be complete without a gift? This one is for you--my fabulous readers! I'm giving away one of these sterling silver God's Heart for You necklaces from DaySpring...

It comes with a mini-card I helped create that has this message...

In God’s heart, you are…

created
I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. PSALM 139:14 NIV

chosen
The Lord has chosen you to be His treasured possession. DEUTERONOMY 14:2 NIV

celebrated
He will take great delight in you…
He will rejoice over you with singing. ZEPHANIAH 3:17 NIV

cherished
I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness. JEREMIAH 31:3 NIV

Just leave a comment or become a subscriber by midnight on Sunday and you'll be entered!

 

I recently read a story about a newly discovered underground cave. One scientist called the cave “a beautiful anomaly.” An anomaly is something unusual, or in other words, weird. The scientists were delighted with this cave and dubbed it a national treasure.

Through that story, God got me thinking about how we all have underground caves in our lives. They may be quirks, regrets, hidden habits, or any number of things.

We usually work hard to keep people away from them. But perhaps they’re actually “beautiful anomalies” (or that’s what God can make them) and we should invite people into those places.

So I’ve decided to kick off this blog by sharing some of my underground cave stuff with you. It ranges from silly to serious.

My Top Ten Beautiful Anomalies

1. I change the lyrics to eighties songs and sing them to my dog.
2. I eat really weird, spicy things that make my friends shriek “Holley!” in the middle of restaurants. 
3. When I’m thinking really hard about something I totally zone out. For example, the other day I put deodorant on my lips instead of chapstick.
4. I have trouble getting out of bed on time. I even put chocolate on my alarm clock and it still didn’t work.
5. I’m more afraid of failure than I am of snakes or spiders.
6. I wasn’t “popular” in high school…and I wanted to be.
7. I have a baby in heaven.
8. I’m unusually fond of turtles and short, fat dogs.
9. I’m named after my Grandpa Hollie and he’s my hero.
10. When I get really nervous, I sweat and think there’s something in my nose.

Finishing Together

  

Update: A big "thank you!" to Mark and Keri from KLRC for featuring this post on the Morning Show. KLRC is an amazing Christian radio station that has won about a zillion awards. You can listen to them online at klrc.com or read the KLRC Morning Show blog.

Sunday morning we place our bikes on the back of the truck, head down the road, and set out to ride. The sky is brilliant blue, colors pop like fireworks as we whiz by, friendly joggers and fellow bikers wave hello.

This is how we start--fresh, easy, sure that it will always be this way.

Then miles pass, who knows how many? And my legs begin to ache just a little. Thirst comes and the sun, once cheerful, feels hot on my neck.

He is ahead on the trail, not feeling it as I do. I find all of a sudden that we are in different places, going at different paces.

Then I regain strength and pass him when he's not looking. He laughs, surprised. Out of my view, I only hear the whir of wheels behind me letting me know he is still there.

Now and then we catch up to each other and chat about what is happening in our lives. He encourages me up a long hill. I giggle as I try to zig-zag around him.

It is toward the end of the ride, finally, and the weariness hits me like a weight. He is ahead, pushing hard to the finish. All at once I feel a fear. I call his name. "Wait!"

He turns, concerned, and comes back to my side. "What's wrong?" he asks.

I tell him, "I just want us to finish together."

Then a kaleidoscope of almost ten years flashes through my mind—a wedding day, white dress, one-bedroom apartment, countless dinners with friends, our first house, our first dog, tears, laughter, kitchen table, warm bed, lost jobs, found jobs, church services, disagreements, making up, grad school, holidays, hopes for the future.

And I realize, as in today, that staying close to anyone in life—husband, family, friends—takes great effort no matter how much we love them. One speeds up, the other slows down. Then the pattern reverses. Sometimes we are together and other times in life's busyness we only hear the whir of wheels somewhere close to us.

Rounding a corner, my thoughts are interrupted as I glimpse our truck. I had not realized how near we were to the end. Do any of us?

We reach it side-by-side. That is all that matters now.

We said we would finish together.

We did.

And we will.

 

p.s. Jenni Saake is giving away a copy of my book, Rain on Me, on her blog www.HarvestingHope.blogspot.com. Friday is the last day to enter. She has an amazing heart for encouraging women so I hope you'll stop by!

Filled to Overflowing

Candles flicker, lit and low. Music gently draw us out of the world and reminds us of another. We meet together in the sanctuary and share communion.

I watch as His daughters take the small cups. In the candlelight I think of stories I've heard, poured out from some of these hearts behind closed counseling doors. I think of my own ragged journey. And I feel at once this ache, this longing for all of us to somehow be whole.

Then I think of each cup and how they are the same but we are so different. How can one thing be what we all need?

Then I realize that as we drink those drops are transformed.

Yes, that one with the frightened look in her eyes drinks and the cup becomes peace

The other who has a shattered heart swallows hope.

A woman who lives with unrealistic expectations tastes grace.

For the One whose cup we take has said His name is "I am...." He is the answer to every question, the fulfillment of every need, the end to all the roads we travel in this life.

So these cups are not the same at all—they are, each one, just what His daughter thirsts for in that moment.

Then I say, "Let us drink a gallon—not a cup! I will drain every bit dry."

But this also, my heart knows...that only a little is enough. Like the few loaves and fishes feeding a multitude He multiplies in ways we do not understand. Those sips are sufficient for the empty spaces in our hearts. They flow down, in and around, touching even the places we ourselves have not yet seen.

The candles flicker again and I lift tiny lip of the glass to my mouth.

Every drop tastes like mystery and joy and Home. 

I am filled to overflowing.