MOOD. 🍟🍟🍟 #TGIF #ilovefood
Have spent the last 24 hours praying my guts out for breakthrough for a dear friend who’s been walking a hard and painful road for the last few years. Every time it has felt like it can’t get worse, it has (a mystery of life I can’t explain except to say I’ll have a lot of questions for God when it’s all over). Today, through tears, over the phone we prayed and asked God to do what he promises, to be who he says he is, we prayed for things that only he can provide. We are choosing to believe what he has said. What has he said? So many beautiful things, here are just a few that have stuck with me. I’m not sure where you are today, what kind of pain you’re walking through but I believe these words are true for you too. I believe Jesus wants us to hold him accountable to his wildest promises. To walk up to the Red Sea and say “the only way I’m crossing is if you show up.” And then believe that he will. I know we get scared because what if he doesn’t? Yesterday I actually backspaced the sentence “When God does this...” because I honestly wasn’t sure if he would. But today I’m not backspacing. Because WHEN he shows up we will know who it is who parted the sea.
These nights are reviving me. Real women, real life, real faith, and a real God. Grateful that it gets to happen in my backyard. 🔥 (also— if you’re a woman in Nashville looking for a place to connect we’ve had a few spaces open up! DM me and I’ll put you on the list.)
Our new morning routine— have breakfast, bundle up, and go on a walk. This is the face he made when the heron stretched its wings and took off from the pond. Also his turkey call is getting uncanny 😏
Forgot to bring a bag to the farmers market. Dinners looking good tonight. ✨
Even though we’ve done this a million times, some times there aren’t enough hugs and Maggie Rogers songs that can make your babe leaving for tour feel better. Randomly emotional about this one. Come home soon @chrisrend!
It was 7pm on a Wednesday night when I realized I’d forgotten how be vulnerable. There were about 15 of us, all ages, sitting around in the well-lit chapel eating cheese and crackers from a box. It’s been a minute since I’ve been a part of church. I mean REALLY doing the church thing. Like, volunteering for things you’re not sure you’re equipped to do like lead a small group. Everyone else in our group shared with fluency about their life, ministry, highs and lows. I sat there listening, like vulnerability was foreign language I didn’t speak. It’s easy to share things behind the safety of this little screen. But it’s another thing entirely to share— I mean really share— while people are staring you in the face (kindly) and all you can hear besides the hum of the air conditioning is your own voice. “Um...well, I struggle with doubt.” I heard myself say. It felt like I blacked out for a minute, my palms were sweaty. Everyone nodded and smiled, I think. At least that’s how I remember it. On the drive home my friend texted me because she could tell something was off. “I’ve forgotten how to ask for prayer.” I typed back. Like really ask. But it felt good. Next Sunday those same people found me and hugged me. They asked about my week, they said “see you ‘round.” I don’t think I’m alone in this though. We’re good at carefully crafting our vulnerability. Sharing with squares and the ability to backspace. There’s no editing when you’re saying heart things out loud. And we need that too. My safe place is church, maybe yours is a couple of friends, a club, your community at the gym- wherever you feel safe sharing I encourage you to try sharing out loud. We need that kind of connection.
Broken and remade. Before I had Danny I thought I could do it all. I thought I would continue to do my job (@rendcollective), my passion project (@womankinde) and maybe keep working my part-time job (@local_honey). I’m laughing to myself as I type these words. But honestly I thought it would just be a matter of wanting it bad enough, and not being afraid to hustle. It’ll work because I will make it work, I thought. I will work because who am I even if I don’t keep creating? And then one day I was driving home from the hospital with a crying baby in the backseat and I realized it wasn’t going to be that simple. It wasn’t a just a simple matter of being coordinated, finding childcare, and working hard. My hobbling, post-birth steps around our house mirrored my internal steps into a new version of me. My body that had always felt like home, to me, to Danny, suddenly felt foreign and like someone else’s. It wasn’t going to be just a matter of hustle and heart. It was going to be relearning how to walk. Relearning how to be, and learning for the first time ever to communicate my needs instead of just fulfilling them on my own. I’ve spent the last year trying to articulate how motherhood has changed me, but all I’ve come up with is that there’s an inexpressible x-factor. The rules you spent your whole life living by suddenly change. You really are broken and remade. I spend most days being surprised by my own desires and priorities. This year has broken me down, sometimes forcefully, other times parts of me have just gently crumbled away. That used to make me sad, but lately I’ve accept it just like the oak trees in our back yard accept they need to shed their leaves to grow. It’s beautiful and strange. These days, however, I find I’m ready to be remade. I’m no longer a newborn in my own world, I’m ready to explore. I’m not sure what that looks like, but today it has looked like taking myself out on a coffee date and writing all this down so I remember this feeling.
Autumn has officially arrived in the south. These rainy October mornings were made for walks with hot coffee and digestive biscuit contraband from Northern Ireland. #nashville
We visited this croissant booth an embarrassing amount of times, but also not enough times. #farmersmarket
“This beautiful reality is better than fear or fantasy.” - @grovesroad // doesn’t mean it’s perfect but I wouldn’t trade the reality of this fall day with my sidekick for anything.
Do more things that make you forget your phone— I think that’s how it goes. Basically this weird crappy photo of these fake flowers at Mas Tacos is all I have to show from a few Nashville days with our bests. Miss y’all already @marycarolinerussell @bobbykrussell
Because if you’ve never put your Halloween costume on a few weeks early are you even doing it right?! Mornings with this guy are equal parts restoring and destructive (to our house!) and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Love this tiny hedgehog! Also I know it’s late, but any costume suggestions for Chris and I are totally welcome. 😬🙈😜
Pretty sure it’s impossible to take a family selfie with everyone in it— which is why it’s important you prioritize the best ones. 😏 love these guys!
Just wanna say thanks to all the brave babes who joined me on my live chat last night on what it means to be a Christian Feminist in this age. We talked a lot about how there’s room for diversity of opinion and experience and why it’s important for us to not disengage from this cultural moment. We also talked a lot about answering the question “why?” What’s the point? And that it’s privilege to have the ability to check out of the conversation. We talked about how this moment in culture is an opportunity to exude light and love and be bearers of tenants of God’s kingdom: justice, peace and mercy. Thank you for putting up with me when I forgot my references, or when I stumbled over my words during difficult parts of the conversation (abortion, sexism, etc) I loved that even though not everyone in our live chat had the same opinion, we were able to treat each other with dignity, gentleness and respect. Our world needs more of that, and you women give me hope. We resolved to abolish nasty words and comments from our lives and on social media, and to trade them in for listening ears. Grateful for these tiny seeds of community and growth. Let’s do it again soon! ✨ Art by @haleykennedystudios
Chicken sausage, kale, butternut squash and mushroom cassoulet. I think I’m trying to force fall into existence. 😜 Recipe coming soooon! ✨
I’m gonna remember these days as the ones you pretend that you can’t walk and take sneaky steps when you think we’re not looking. The ones where you broke off our toilet handle with brute force. The ones where you think peek-a-boo is the funniest game ever, and French fries are ace. These are the days you chase the light on our rug like a cat, and knock over that one candle on the side table every morning. These are the days where you’re only words are “mama”, “daddy” and “cheese”. The ones where I sweep and vacuum 90x a day all the while knowing some crumbs have been forever grafted into the grain of our hardwood floors. These are the days where you only want to read the first page of “That’s Not My Lion” and could sit in the swings at the park alllllll day. These days people think you’re a two years old and you eat one and half kids pizzas for dinner. Love these days so much and gotta make little notes like this so I don’t forget.✨
This heat has got us all a bit squirmy. I think these pumpkins might be fully cooked! 🙈😜
Just want to say thanks for all the love and support on my last post. I really do believe it’s important for Christian women to not disengage from what’s going on in the world. Not talking about it out of fear is destructive and unfair to the women who will come up after us. But it’s hard to be vulnerable. When you see the absolutely horrific ways people engage with one another on social media, it’s terrifying to say anything. I get it. But let’s not let the fear win. So on that note, if i were to host a live chat to talk about some of these issues would you guys be up for joining in? If so comment below, or if there are questions, thoughts, things you’ve been processing without an outlet, DM me and we’ll talk about them. I won’t have all the answers, but I’m willing to listen and process with you. Love you all! Excited for what’s to come. ✨💗
I’ll probably get a lot of people unfollowing me for this, but I’ve been thinking a lot about voices and words, and how people get heard. There’s a lot of shouting going on these days— and it makes sense— unaddressed hurts and injustice can only hide themselves for so long. There’s a lot of self-righteousness to shift through, a lot of real pain and not enough ways to hug everyone you want to hug. Unhelpful terms like “angry feminists” shut down important conversations before they’ve even begun. So many words, so many voices. How do we responsibly digest it all? We aren’t the answer and we are. Here’s my prayer— that Christian women embrace the uncomfortable tension of being in the world but not of it. That we won’t distance ourselves from pain, that we dig in and get real, that we would be first responders instead of letting the pain of the world go to voicemail. That we wouldn’t be afraid to get our hands dirty and our hearts broken for the sake of being LOVE to a world that is raw. That we would be okay with disappointing people and let our reputations catch bullets in the firing line as we love like Jesus. I pray we attend less conferences and show up in more people’s lives with grace, mercy and a shoulder to cry on. I pray this for you, but mostly I pray it for me because I need this transformation too. “Feminist” is a word we get to bring meaning to, let’s not miss our chance to change the world.