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.

The Journey of the Heart

In my mind's eye I stand, arms open, at the beginning of a road. The sky is purple—splashed with sunset, the end of day and the start of night. I stare, wide-eyed, trying to see to what’s next. But I can glimpse no further than the tips of my fingers.

I look within, search old maps of experiences, call on wisdom shared, lessons learned, but here and now none of it seems to fit.
 
I sigh, feet rooted to the ground. Longing to stay, longing to go…not knowing which is stronger.
 
I feel the familiarity of this place. I have been here before. I do not know what to name it—in my mind it has been many things…the “waiting” or the “becoming” or the “crossroads.”
 
I laugh then because although I have known it many times in so many ways I do not know it all. For each time it is different and the same. Like my husband—altogether familiar and yet each day an engaging mystery.

I stand and stare into the fog and I see Someone approaching. Slowly He comes at first, then with speed, until He is at my side.
 
“Yes, finally,” I think, “Now He will lead me to some glorious adventure.”

But, no, movement does not come from next to me. Nor words. Nor anything.
 
Only a stillness and quiet.

I fidget. Scratch tip of shoe across dirt. Sigh. Stretch. Shiver.

Yet none of my hints move Him. Steadfast, He remains.
 
“Let us go, Lord,” I eventually say like a whisper.

No response.

“Surely, it is time to go,” I insist, “There is much to be done and the time is short.”

And yet the stillness stays.

It goes on so long that I begin to ache, and fight, and think that I will faint from waiting.

But then something happens, a shift inside, beyond my perception.
 
I begin to notice what is all around me…and Who is beside me.
 
I listen to His heartbeat, hear His breath in-and-out, memorize the lines and scars on His hands.
 
And I realize, somehow, that this staying is more important than the going. Yes, for all the roads in the world could not lead me back to where I am now—by His side.
 
It is still difficult to remain, for I am a wandering one, but this is where I belong. And we will go, He and I, when the time is right. And I will have learned that it is not about where the road leads but the One who is leading me.

And this staying, I am discovering, is the real journey of the heart.    

Bless Your Nest

Update: Kimba from A Soft Place to Land won the giveaway this week! (Thanks, random number generator.) I hope you'll stop by Kimba's wonderful blog and say hello! And if you still want the print, it's on sale at DaySpring.com and you can use my friends and family code for an extra 20% off anything you order (holley20). There are several other fun designs by Jeanne!

I've been appreciating my home a lot more lately. Perhaps it's because I've spent so much time away from it during the last four years of grad school. Whatever it is, I find myself smiling as a wash dishes (weird--I know), enjoying the view into my backyard, and thinking of new colors to paint the walls. So I'm doing a little giveaway of this print by DaySpring...

It was designed by a very talented friend of mine, Jeanne Winters. She has a wonderful site and I hope you'll stop by for some inspiration and creative ideas.

Here are some other fabulous women who do a great job of making home a place I want to be. I think you'll really enjoy them too!

Jen - Balancing Beauty and Bedlam

Melissa - The Inspired Room

Nester - The Nesting Place

To enter the giveaway for the print above, just leave a comment by midnight on Sunday. Or if you're not a subscriber already then sign up and you'll be entered as well (if you leave a comment and subscribe that's two entries).

Wishing you a happy weekend, heart, and home...

Criss-Crossed

I stand at a crossroads of my life. I finish grad school in less than a month. It has been a long journey, this one. It began over four years ago. I will have my masters degree in counseling.

I laugh sometimes at this--for in many ways I know less now than I did when I started. Yes, being let into the hallowed halls of hearts has humbled me. I find I do not judge as quickly, stereotype without thinking, assume I understand the whys and hows of others' lives. For this I am grateful.

I am not the same person I was when I started. No, this journey has shaped me, bit by bit. Like exercise forms a muscle so my character has changed, altered. More grace has been added, insecurity has been stripped away (although I still struggle sometimes). I am more of who I am yet still not all I will become.

I had a vision when I set first foot on this road that I would end it with more answers than questions. But, no, this is the gift I did not expect. That this journey, above all, has taught me to ask more deeply, to question more thoroughly, to seek understanding as never before.

So I stand looking into the future. I am relieved to be here, glad to have made it to the next chapter, and yet disappointed in a way that once again life is not about closure but about continuing.

This I have learned: Whenever I finish a sentence with, "When I..." it is actually a line that will never be done. Life is one glorious run-on, full of hyphens, semi-colons, commas, ellipses. The only real period is our last breath.

Until then we are writing, writing, words criss-crossed over the page--our hearts held by the hand of the Author. 

And only He can write "The End."

Works for Me Wednesday: Quick and Frugal Homemade Cleaner

I've been on quite the serious kick lately so I thought we could all use a little fun and down-to-earthness around here. Kristen who blogs at We Are THAT Family has a fabulous feature called Works for Me Wednesday. If you haven't checked it out yet you ought to stop by her blog and do so. Women share tips about what makes life a bit easier for them (and we could all use that, couldn't we?).

So my Works for Me Wednesday tip is homemade multipurpose cleaner. You can assemble it in less than a minute with items you probably already have around the house.

Here's the recipe:

Quick and Frugal Multipurpose Cleaner

1 Spray Bottle

Fill halfway with water

Then fill to top with rubbing alcohol

Add a few drops of liquid soap

Shake to combine

You can use it to clean glass, kitchen counters, sinks, bathrooms, anything you'd like. And it's a lot cheaper than purchasing brand name cleaners at the store.

So there's my little tip for the day...what works for you? Share here or post a link on Kristen's site!

Enough

Sometimes I want to stop being the me that I am. I'd like to try on someone else's skin for awhile, climb inside and out of mine, just to know if all minds whirl as mine does, if the same insecurities rattle inside all of our chests.

I'm going to the She Speaks conference in a week and a half. I have already tried on everything I own. I'm convinced that if I find just the right thing then I will be okay, I will be right, they will like me.

Do you know this feeling? I had this idea as an awkward teenager that it would one day go...drifting somewhere into the sky. I would come home to myself and I would not care what others wore, what they thought, if I were cool or not.

But I do care, oh yes, I do.

It's a shameful thing to admit--like saying I eat gallons of ice cream in the night. But I indulge in this insecurity more often than I'd like. I know good Christian girls aren't supposed to do so. But I'm not always a good Christian girl. Are any of us?

So I try on shirts, slip on shoes, wonder if I am good, enough, pretty enough, smart enough...

And then yes, I hear it, a whisper in my heart that does say ENOUGH.

This "enough" ends with a period. It is more like a command, a declaration, that works past my insecurity and settles my heart.

The voice of the One Who Loves Me draws me back, tells me I am His, that I am right, and lovely, and just as I am created to be.

I sigh, listen, breathe deeply of these words and will them from head to heart.

I stare in the mirror with new eyes, ones that see perhaps a glimpse of what He does...not the woman I am but the one I am becoming.

She is beautiful because she is loved--imperfections and all.

And this, somehow, for this moment, is ENOUGH.

Prayer for a New Week

Lord,

A new week is beginning...

already I feel the rush.

Slow me down, Lord.

Slow me to the beat of Your heart.

I think of Your words that say

those who wait on You

will run and not grow weary--

and I remember that rest

is not about lack of motion

but rather moving forward with You

so that activity is a blessing not a burden.

I will run this week--there is much to do

but help me do so in a way

that keeps me by Your side.

Waiting and working,

only You could tie those together.

Please do so for me today.

Amen.

High on a Barren Branch a Red Bird Sings

Coming home from helping with grief support group, bone weary, I sit on the porch with husband. In moments like these the darkness threatens to obscure the light. It seems as if the whole world is in mourning. I search for a shred of hope, staring at the sky, searching the clouds.

And then, piercing, I hear the song of a bird. It jars my thoughts makes me lift my head, search for its source. For this is not a funeral dirge. No, this is the sound of joy–shrill and clear. Husband says, "That bird is loud."

We find her, at last, in the highest boughs of an oak. She's a cardinal singing her little red heart out. She sits not in the verdant, lush leaves but on one barren branch–most likely stripped bare from an ice storm that swept in last winter.

I think of this bird, so bold, and wonder how she found herself on that limb. She could have sung anywhere. But she landed on this place where brokenness is evident.

And perhaps in that spot she could feel more the need for the song. Perching there maybe she knew, clearly, that life could use more music and that she alone could bring it in that moment. There is something in the contrast between sorrow and joy that makes us reach to the depths.

I think again then of grief group, of laughter around the table, of joy found in sorrow. They are red birds, these ones, that comes and share–who sit on the barren branch of loss and sing.

Oh, how they sing. I hear the echo even now. And it's louder than the pain.

Yes, louder than the pain. For that is the hope we carry inside–that in the end our song will be able to silence our sorrow.

I look again and our cardinal is gone. Flitting on to somewhere new her song still sits in the breeze. I breathe it in and listen for joy to call my name again from the most unlikely of places...from somewhere up above.