Emily Conrad's Blog, page 22

What I'm reading: Roots and Sky by Christie Purifoy

The green foliage taking over the flower beds of our new house promised beauty. The leaves were so confident, so strong, so widespread I was certain they'd been planted with purpose.

But as we unpacked our belongings, those leaves grew. And grew. And then sprouted little purple blooms that nowhere near justified all those leaves. What we'd expected to be flowers were weeds.

When new, paler green foliage popped up in other parts of the landscaping, I knew better than to hope. These were going to be weeds. As if they knew my suspicions, they grew into weird plants with a single capsule at the end of a long, furry stem. Weeds. Those capsules, some kind of pod, would surely open and spew hundreds of cottony seeds, spreading the the infestation further.

And then, one day, I looked out, and what I'd labelled weeds turned out to be gorgeous poppy hybrids. 



This is how it's been to move. Unexpected disappointments. Blessings growing right under my nose.

In the midst of this confusion, Christina Hubbard of Creative and Free suggested I join the book club at GraceTable.org, which is reading Roots and Sky by Christie Purifoy. I signed up immediately; I've come to trust Christina's taste in books implicitly. That trust has now expanded to the GraceTable blog, and to Christie Purifoy's writing.

Roots and Sky, which on it's basic level is a memoir about the process of making an old farmhouse a home, came at just the right time in my life. I'm trying to make a house a home, too. 

But the pages speak to so much more vital issues than that. Thoughtfully and beautifully written, this book puts words to thoughts and experiences common to all of us, whether we're in the midst of a move or not.

Though we don't face all the same external challenges, we do come up against many of the same questions. How it could be that days spent in a dream-come-true feel ordinary? Why does this have to be a process? What's the value in the waiting, in the striving? What does it mean to truly come home, and when will we finally be able to say we have?

Because of all of this, because I so appreciate both GraceTable and Roots and Sky, it's an honor to be guest posting on GraceTable today about one of the ways Roots and Sky resonated with me. I hope you'll click through to read it. If you do, consider subscribing to their blog and checking out Roots and Sky for yourself!















P.S. I'm not putting an affiliate link to Roots and Sky in this post because I'd rather you use those on GraceTable, supporting the beautiful work they do. If you're interested in the book and the book club, here's an introduction.

How to rest

Today's post originally appeared on the blog last April, but a lot has changed around here since then. I didn't think anyone would mind me reposting it because one thing that hasn't changed--except maybe to get harder?--is how difficult it is to rest and recharge.

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I'll be honest. Tonight, I'm tired.

A passage that I read in Mark a few days ago struck me, but I didn't know how to really apply it in my own life until feeling weary like this.

In Mark 6, Jesus sends his disciples out in pairs. Verses 12 and 13 say, So they went out and proclaimed that people should repent. And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them. (ESV)

When they came back, Jesus' next assignment surprised me: And he said to them, "Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.' (Verse 31, ESV)

The disciples had been involved in more intense work than I've been up to, yet I think there's still something to be learned from this. 

As I felt tired tonight, I pulled up social media and started scrolling. Didn't help me recharge at all.

What is a desolate place in our modern world? As much as I love my computer, I have a feeling that most things I do on it are not the kind of rest Jesus was inviting his disciples to enjoy. And since he called it "desolate" I'm not thinking they were shelling out money for an expensive getaway weekend.

As much as our world encourages it, no one can be "on" all the time. If you're feeling overwhelmed, burdened, or burnt out, find a "desolate place." Turn off the TV and computer and phone. Eat in leisure if you, like me, habitually multitask during meals. Go for a walk alone. Read your Bible, journal, pray.

I think you'll find a great way to recharge is to take time to focus on God and enjoy some of the simple pleasures of the life he's given us.








As much as our world encourages it, no one can be "on" all the time via @novelwritergirl

Beauty Rewrites: When the Pretty Girl Walks In by Christina Hubbard

We've heard it a million times: looks can be deceiving. By now, we ought to have it down pat, but looks still manage to fool us. We see a golden tan and we think beach vacation. We see a fancy car and we think high-paying job. We see a pretty woman walk in the room and we think she's got it all.

Maybe the tan is from a Caribbean vacation, not a tanning bed or spray tanner. Maybe the car is from a great job, not mountains of debt. But no one, not even the most beautiful woman on earth--probably especially not her--has it all.

In this week's Beauty Rewrites post, Christina Hubbard writes, "She’s the one we love to hate. The pretty girl. The one walking in the room, with that fantastic smile, dazzling all the men and the women. They’re murmuring under their breath. You see the raised eyebrows, gazes askant, because they can’t take their eyes off her form. You catch yourself staring. She is so everything."

But if we leave her on that pedestal, we'll be missing a real chance to help someone who desperately needs it. Because even pretty girls need friends. Because sometimes, the pretty girl is the pretty girl because she's...

Actually, you'll have to click on over to When the Pretty Girl Walks in the Room on Creative and Free to find out.





PS- This post is part of the 12-week series Beauty Rewrites featuring Christina Hubbard, Ludavia Harvey, and myself. Join us on Tuesdays for a fresh look at beautiful. For all the Beauty Rewrites posts, click here!



What to do when the pretty girl walks in the room via @creatively_free


No one, not even the pretty girl, has it all together. Beauty Rewrites by @niftybetty @creatively_free @novelwritergirl

4 Ways to be Patient for Long Haul

David, the youngest of his brothers whose own father didn't bother to call him in from the fields when  asked to gather his sons, was one day summoned from his work with the sheep and anointed king of Israel. 

At that point, we'd expect the shepherd's life to drastically shift, but in 1 Samuel 16, after Samuel anoints David, the narrative returns to Saul. David hasn't moved into the palace. He hasn't staged a coup. There haven't been any big parties or parades or robes or crowns for this country boy. Instead, it seems life has continued for him as usual. 

For years, I've been acting on the belief that God has called me to be a writer. I am a writer, but not yet in the way I hope to someday be. My dream is to have a novel published, but I'm waiting. I'm trying to help others, and I'm letting others help me. I'm trying to live faithfully and in belief that though this story hasn't gone the way I expected, my journey is good and it is guided by a God who will have his way in my life, and more importantly, in my heart as I remain faithful to him. 

But it's hard, of course, and I don't always get it right. Sometimes, I feel like the dream rests on my shoulders, like it's my responsibility to make it happen or like the twists in the path are going in circles rather than leading me forward. Maybe your dreams feel this way, too?

1 Samuel 16 offers us some practical insight into how to live faithfully during an unexpectedly long wait for a dream-come-true:

Obey the basics.

Even as a shepherd, David lived in such a way that others spoke well of him saying, "I have seen a son of Jesse the Bethlehemite, who is skillful in playing, a man of valor, a man of war, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence, and the Lord is with him" (1 Sam. 16:18, ESV). The reputation is how God brought him to the palace.

Let God work.

Rather than trying to finagle his own way into the palace, David waited obediently from a distance. Someone else praised him to Saul, who then sent for him.

Stay humble.

When David did go to the palace, it wasn't for the glory of holding some office or for the task of learning to take over the country. He went to play an instrument because the acting king had a weakness: he was being tormented by a harmful spirit. Saul didn't even know David was to replace him.

I can't imagine how hard the wait must've been for David to respectfully serve a faulty king, knowing that someday the throne would be his. But he faithfully and humbly served the king, still waiting for God to work on his behalf.

Put God before the dream.

I doubt David could've served Saul but for one thing. Right after David was anointed, 1 Samuel 16:13 says that "the Spirit of the Lord rushed upon David from that day forward" (ESV). 

From that day on, David had something better than any kingship. He had the Spirit of the Lord with him, and armed with that, he was able to honor God in his wait for the external changes in his life to come.


May we follow his example as we each wait. Instead of pursuing our dreams at any cost, let's draw close to the Spirit of the Lord, valuing that more than earthly goals and allowing God to work on our behalf when and how he sees fit. Let's humble ourselves to do the work God has placed before us, trusting that in his time and his way, He will exalt us. 

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you (1 Peter 5:6, ESV)

What dreams are you waiting for? Have you watched someone be rewarded for their faithfulness during a long wait?









4 ways to be patient for the long haul #patienceisavirtue #Godwillmakeaway via @novelwritergirl

Beauty Rewrites: How to Discover Your Self-Worth

Some people seem to be at the top of their game. They've got clean houses, cute clothes, great jobs, the works. I don't know about you, but hanging out with people whose faults I can't see leaves my self-worth in a nosedive. How do they keep it all together when I struggle in so many areas? If they knew more about me, would they keep inviting me along?

Thankfully, as relationships deepen, everyone's faults come closer to the surface. Sounds kind of funny to be thankful for faults, yet recognizing everyone's human, we don't have to beat ourselves up for having weaknesses among our strengths. As I wrote last week, let's let those differences make us stronger.

But there's still that period before we really get to know people when we put them on a pedestal and tuck ourselves away in a little hole. Or sometimes, even once we do know their faults, we think our friends' strengths are so much better than ours that our self-worth takes hit after hit.

In reading this week's Beauty Rewrites post by Ludavia Harvey of the blog Nifty Betty, I realized this can also be a huge issue on social media.

Most of us curate our online profiles to reflect the best version of ourselves, but we don't take that into consideration when we're looking at others' pictures and posts. We see all that shining glossiness and we just know our lives could never be that good. We have numerical proof to back it up: we don't get as many likes on our own pics.

This is trouble, friends.

Ludavia writes: "Automatically, we are basing self-worth on pictures, appearances, highlight reels of our lives. But, that is not real life. What about those moments in between? Those moments where we have to find strength to power through difficult moments and look at our unfiltered self in the mirror and embrace our natural beauty?"

How can we find more strength to power through, to look lovingly on ourselves, to be confident in our real self and not just in a perfectly curated one? Follow me over to Nifty Betty to read 4 easy steps to discover your self-worth.









PS- This post is part of the 12-week series Beauty Rewrites featuring Christina Hubbard, Ludavia Harvey, and myself. Join us on Tuesdays as we dig in to what it means to be truly beautiful. For all the Beauty Rewrites posts, click here!


How to discover your #selfworth-via @niftybetty Don't miss your own #truebeauty! Check out Beauty Rewrites by @niftybetty @creatively_free @novelwritergirl

About Memorial Day Poppies

Despite poppies' tainted reputation, I was thrilled to discover some kind of hybrid poppy growing in my yard. But because of that reputation, I didn't try to bring any in the house until my dogs broke one off. Unsure of if people even cut poppies, I took it into the house, plopped it in a vase, and subjected it to a photoshoot.

The next day, it dropped its petals and a mess of black pollen on my desk.

The short shelf life inspired me to do my research. I learned that singeing the bottom of the stems of cut poppies helps them last longer. Intrigued, I gave it a shot, filled a vase, and set out to write a poem about this new obsession of mine.

Cue even more research. What kind of flowers are poppies? Bad because of opiates? Or good, because isn't there a poem written by a soldier about them? Or are they just another pretty face in the garden?

All of the above. Some poppies are used to make drugs. Some are used to symbolize those who gave their lives in battle. Some are cut purely for their looks. But, in my mind, poppies as a symbol of remembrance overshadows both the negative and the pretty.

Though I'm tempted to give you a history lesson about poppies, I won't. Suffice to say, poppies grew around the graves of WWI soldiers, inspiring poetry. The poetry inspired a movement: selling poppies in memory of the fallen and to support our veterans. (If you are interested, you can read about Memorial Day and poppies and the related poetry here and here.)



The task of truly honoring the fallen daunts me. I, in my comfortable life, can't fathom what it would be like to witness war let alone fight in it. Let alone die in it. For their willingness to face battle and risk their lives, I applaud and respect our service men and women. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I can't say it enough.

But I can cut a flower. I can put it on my desk and watch its short lifespan with gratitude. I'm thankful not only for this flower and the God who made it, but for the good it stands for, for the men and women who have given more than I can comprehend. Thank you, thank you, thank you.



Poppy 101
Torch the cut edges of poppiesto make them last in a vase of water.Watch the little white hairson the green stems shrivel like arm hair,white, then black, then white againas they curl in the flame.On your desk, their wet-paint scent refuses to paythe compliments roses and lilies effuse.This flower doesn’t reserve any beautyfor stop and smell, lavishing it insteadon stamens like underwater anemone,on a stigmatic disk like an eggplant sea dollar.Black pollen powders the petals,metallic shavings on crinkled clown hairpetals atop a stem bowing this way and that, undecidedbecause the sun keeps movinglike soldiers burying friends in fieldsstirring up long dormant seedsto grow between white crosses.Harvested, the orange embers glow,strong at first, then fadingto heaps of orange and black, a reminder of the messiness of life,of the inherent beauty of brevity and ferocity and sacrifice,of strength we gain only in fire.

Happy Memorial Day!






A reminder of the messiness of life, of the inherent beauty of brevity-via@novelwritergirl #poppies #MemorialDay#Poppies, #MemorialDay, and the strength gained in fire-via@novelwritergirl

When God Turns Hopes Deferred Around

As a novelist, I enjoy hearing how the lives of other writers intertwine with their stories. It's such a give and take. Though we write from the base of our struggles and experiences, we sometimes look back an learn from our own work.

Today, author Meghan Gorecki shares her experience with hopes deferred, how they shaped her novel, and how her novel in turn shaped her. Read on for her experience of how God "turned what I thought were ashes of hopes deferred into things of beauty."

Here's Meghan!

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This past December, I was all-raring to go back to work as a part time doctor’s office receptionist, even resume the young adult ministry at my family’s church despite the fact my best friends don’t live near me. Having a whole new lease on life following a reconstructive hip surgery to give me some 15-20 years pain-free on one side, I cautiously but excitedly resumed work with a buoyed spirit. And then one night coming home from work I could barely walk up to our front door without extreme pain. On the side that had it’s hip operated on only five months prior.

Due to living with severe hip dysplasia in both hips since age eleven, chronic pain and limitations had been the norm up to that point, and writing my debut novel God’s Will proved to be cathartic and a way the Lord drew me closer to Himself in my formative years. But, much like my novel went through two rewrites, one overhaul, and edited many times into what is now the second edition—God had a lot more to teach me even after dropping a fantastic-sounding reconstructive surgery into my lap in spring of 2015.

Prior to this first surgery, I was growing increasingly restless for something, anything to change in my life. My job was good, albeit stressful at times, and one I look back on fondly now. It was just all the same for so long. And I hoped deep down, if I were wholly honest, that The Big Change would be a book contract, or a guy.

But, much like how God got me to let go of my dream for my novel and reshaped it into what it is today—so He did via my surgeries. And the countless hopes deferred that dark December day last year when the doctor looked at my x-rays and told me the infection had rendered the original procedure null and void and the hip was coming out of its socket—with four pins in it. All those hopes to resume normalcy with a genuine joy and gratitude in my heart seemed crushed, shattered in a million pieces. And I entered into perhaps the most trying, dark time spiritually and emotionally of my entire life up to that point. Full disclosure? Shards of hopes deferred still pang and cause me to wince on occasion even now, months later, with one brand new hip and another coming shortly.

All I can say is but for God—I don’t know where I’d be.

When I went back to heavily edit my novel prior to its second birthday this month, the transparency with which I wrote my main character Kathy, and her struggles with her hopes deferred and heartbreak just blew me away. It resonated so closely since I was just coming out of the darkest time of questioning my faith, God’s goodness and if there was even a purpose behind all the pain.

But God. It took time—I have a thick skull—but His constant, loving pursuit of my heart began to crack through the dark, bitter shell I had made for myself. I had retreated so far inward that the unchanging truths I was raised with—and wrote into a novel—fell like clanging symbols on my ears and I had not the strength to claim them, so deep was my pain and resulting doubt.

But God. Despite my life feeling ripped out from under me—He set my boundaries in pleasant places as the Scripture says. Through literally no effort of my own, He dropped editing work in my lap along with a new best friend who is a constant beacon of hope and grace in my life—and He’s given me a new hip. A surgery that went unbelievably well and quickly, from the hospital time to when I was allowed to resume normalcy. And what’s the most humbling, but beautiful thing out of all this?

He turned what I thought were ashes of hopes deferred into things of beauty. God is rebuilding my dreams to fit HIS will for my future, and strengthening my hope each and every day because He is who He says He is.
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[image error] ABOUT THE BOOK: Kathy Andrews is good at goodbyes. Her mother is sent to a sanatorium, her sister, left behind in Chicago, and her father, forced to roam looking for work. So she holds close to the only one she has left, her brother Danny. When the two go to live with the Marshalls in the sleepy town of Brighton, she doesn't let anyone past hello. Elliott Russell frowns at his aunt and uncle's generosity--even though he and his sister are on the receiving end. He frowns, too, at the uppity city girl with a chip on her shoulder whom he can't get out of his head. When a tragedy rips apart what tenuous existence they manage to forge, will they find the sweetest place to be is in God's will--or will they turn their backs on faith that fails to protect against pain?

God's Will is available on Amazon here.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Meghan M. Gorecki is an author of inspirational fiction, a blogger, book reviewer and voracious reader. Taking her life a day at a time as God leads, she is pursuing a career in the publishing industry as an editor in training and as a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. A hopeless romantic, history and Marvel nut, she's also a redhead (thanks to a box), who knows way too much trivia about movie musicals and the Civil War. Find her on social media and at her blog, A Northern Belle.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
Website || Facebook || Twitter || Instagram || Pinterest



He turned what I thought were ashes of hopes deferred into things of beauty-via @MeghanMGoreckiAll I can say is but for God, I don’t know where I’d be -via @MeghanMGorecki
P.S. If you enjoy hearing author journeys, too, check out this post from novelist Janet Ferguson on how her experience with anxiety influenced her debut novel!

This post contains affiliate links.

Beauty Rewrites: How to stop comparisons and embrace true beauty

A few years ago, I went to visit a dear friend. She’d given up a lot to be where she was for the sake of pouring into a cause greater than herself. As she introduced me to people she worked with, one of them said to me, “You’re prettier than she is.”

The words might as well have been bullets, and though I was not the target, I was the surface the speaker used to steady his hand as he pulled the trigger. I feel partially to blame for the deep wounds that remark opened in my friend. That’s made this a hard situation to write about, but really, that comment wasn’t about me.

It wasn’t about my friend, either. She’s given of herself in sacrificial, beautiful ways. If anyone was beautiful in that room, it was her.

The comment really said the most about the person who put it out there. My chest gets tight as I relive that exchange and condemn him for hurting her that way.

But, in reality, don’t we all compare people all the time? Sure, we generally don't come right out and say it, but don't we pick which strangers to talk to at conferences, events, or even in the checkout line based on how they look?

Yet our Creator made each of us with loving care. When we stand before him someday, he won’t be concerned with our outward appearances. After all, we look the way he ordained us to look. It’s the beauty of the heart that matters to him.

But even there, we lose ourselves in comparison. We see beauty in someone’s work ethic, kindness, or bubbly demeanor, and we quickly turn it into a comparison. As we wonder why we’re not more like some other person, we belittle our own talents. Or, we see ourselves as better than our friends or family.

None of this builds a foundation for a healthy relationship with another human being.

Can I just say this once and for all?

You are not beautiful like me, and I am not beautiful like you, and that is by design. 

We are different but equal. Because of our differences, we can build each other up, fulfilling a mission greater than obtaining the thickest eyelashes, the skinniest waist, or the most sparkling personality.

Let’s put a stop to comparisons! First, recognize when a comparison enters your mind. Second, put conscious effort into ensuring our differences give us more to celebrate, not less. Next time you’re tempted to envy someone, instead find a way you can help each other. Rather than dismissing someone, remember every single one of us has a story worth sharing. Listen to the stories around you and share your own, secure in the knowledge that you, too, have beautiful value.

In the name of celebrating each other, use the comments to tell us about a beautiful woman you know. Let’s go more than skin deep!









P.S. This is a Beauty Rewrites post. I'm thrilled to be joining forces with Christina of Creative and Free and Ludavia of Nifty Betty for this 12-week series on body image, true beauty, and how to celebrate what you've got. Visit every Tuesday for the latest installment. If you're just tuning in now, check out the definition of beauty and Ludavia's three tips for achieving it. Christina's post on what being homecoming queen did to her body image is also a must-read.



How to stop #comparisons and embrace #truebeauty - via @novelwritergirlYou aren't beautiful like me and I'm not beautiful like you, and that's by design-via @novelwritergirlLet our differences give us more to celebrate, not less. #BeautyRewrites - via @novelwritergirl

How to tame your expectation puppy

Expectations are as irresistible to me as puppies. Once I see one, I jump at the chance to bring it home with me. Like puppies, expectations have a lot going for them. They promise to make my life fuller. They promise happiness. What's the harm?

Sometimes, my expectations keep me on track. Things are good. I feed it, and it grows up healthy and obedient. But sometimes--and some dogs do this, too--sometimes, the expectation takes over way more of my life than I meant to surrender. It's like unintentionally adopting a Great Dane... Except worse. Even if I do manage to feed the expectation enough time and energy, it'll chew on my sense of peace and accomplishment.

For example, when we made plans to move, my expectation was that I'd have a hard time keeping up for about two weeks--the week before and the week after The Big Move In Weekend. Other than those two weeks, I expected to fly along at my usual pace.

What a cute expectation.

After a few other setbacks slowed me down, I realized just how much painting I needed to do before we could start to move furniture into a few rooms. That was a breaking point. Totally overwhelmed and falling behind on most of my writing-related tasks, I complained to my mom.

Her response? "It'll just take time."

My reply? "I hate things that take time."

But that's not actually true. I love things that take time--a cozy, well-decorated house, becoming a better writer, finding a publisher, getting promoted. I love all those things. But I hate the time those things take because I have an expectation puppy and he eats A LOT very quickly.

Anyone else have this problem, too? Expectations running rampant over your sense of accomplishment and peace?
 
When the problem is with a dog, we can hire trainers and behaviorists. As a dog owner (yeah, I bet you're surprised to learn that about me...), I'm in awe of a certain TV dog expert who can make a dog behave with a shushing noise. Thankfully, we have an equally effective technique we can use when an expectation puppy (or anything else) chews on our peace.

Philippians 4:6-7 says, do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (ESV)

Pray. Be thankful. Ask God for what you need. This is how we can tame expectation puppies.


If I'm thankful for my house, I'm more likely to enjoy it and the process than when I'm expecting to get x, y, and z done in time for dinner. If I'm praying and asking God for help, I'm not as likely to depend on myself. Suddenly, that expectation puppy is looking cuter and healthier again. More like one of God's creatures.

Notice how I mentioned that our technique for expectations is just as effective as that celebrity dog expert's technique with dogs? Truth is, I can't handle a dog like he does. It takes time and training to learn how to hold that kind of sway with an animal. It takes time and practice to correctly handle expectations, too.

I know, I know. We're back to the "it takes time" thing. But once you train the expectation puppy, that's no longer such a bad thing.







How to tame the expectations overrunning your life - via @novelwritergirl

Beauty Rewrites: What Being Homecoming Queen Did to My Body Image

Beauty. We all want it, but beauty comes with unexpected side effects. This tension makes it a tender subject. I've seen it as I draft my upcoming posts for the Beauty Rewrites series and also in this week's post from Christina Hubbard of Creative and Free. 
For week two of Beauty Rewrites, Christina writes about a special high school experience and its long-term effects on how she viewed herself. Hint: Being homecoming queen isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Christina begins: 
What Being Homecoming Queen Did to My Body Image 
You'd think it would be nice to be homecoming queen. But high school is a breeding ground for a lifetime of body image issues. Anorexia. Bulimia. Obesity. Bullying. Dating problems. Sex. Cutting. What happens in those tender years of a young woman's life affects her core identity for good or bad. When I set out to write this post about an experience that formulated my body image, what came to mind immediately was a moment I had wanted my whole life.
Click here to continue reading.

If you're just joining in, Beauty Rewrites is a 12-week series hosted by Christina at Creative and Free, Ludavia Harvey at Nifty Betty, and myself. If you missed week one, Ludavia defined beauty and gave us three tips for achieving it--none of which are make-up related! Here's a link! 

Next week, stop back here for post on beauty comparisons--how they affect our relationships and what we can do about it.









What Being Homecoming Queen Did to My Body Image - via @Creatively_Free