Hannah Brencher's Blog, page 3

The Beauty of Creating in the Fringe Hours

I wrote The Unplugged Hours in what I’ve fondly learned to call “the fringe hours.”

At the beginning of the writing process, I felt stretched thin and overwhelmed. I had no idea how to write a book and raise a baby who only went to school for a few hours each week. It felt like my brain was constantly trying to move back and forth between diving into the deep end of the creative process and playing in the kiddie pool with my little girl. I felt stuck trying to be everything at once– mother, wife, friend, writer, business owner. How did people manage to do all this?!

The term “fringe hours” came to me during a time of prayer, when I felt God nudging me, telling me I would write this book during the fringe hours.

The word was so foreign to me that I had to Google it. Fringe hours, coined by author Jessica Turner, typically refer to the hours just before and after the peak or busiest times of the day. These are the less flashy periods surrounding the most congested or highest-demand times of the day.

And that’s what happened.

I wrote the book in the least expected pockets of the day.

Between carpool lines.

Sometimes, in the carpool line.

In the naptime hours, when my brain was tired.

In the late evenings where all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch a show.

I felt pressed and tucked away, pinned tightly into secret places no one knew about. Each time I was tempted to share a part of the writing process, to let others in, I would feel this pause in my spirit telling me, “No, it’s not time to share.” The work was scrappy and unglamorous (and a little bit lonely), but it filled my spirit with joy and intensity. I was learning how to savor the process for myself—how to love the creative work rather than the affirmation or feedback that might come from sharing the words.

And in those unexpected spaces, those now beloved fringe hours, I learned some profound and valuable lessons that I’m adding to my writer’s toolkit:

A lot can happen during the fringe hours.

Before this writing process, I might have been tempted to discount the fringe hours. I wanted peak performance times. I wanted efficient timeblocks. And yet, nothing about writing the book and raising a toddler who only goes to school a few hours a couple of times a week was conducive to that efficient method.

Parts of me want to take back any writing advice I gave before having a child because I know now it’s not easy to write with a little one. I constantly felt pulled in different directions, and my brain often felt scrambled. I struggled to be consistently present with her and spend time with the muse calling my name at all hours of the day. 

But I also learned, through the fringe hours, that you can accomplish more than you ever expected if and when you’re willing to sacrifice: time spent sleeping in later or scrolling mindlessly. Or time bingeing old episodes of Survivor. Or time when you want to do literally anything but that thing you promised yourself you’d do.

I learned to boast in my weakness.

The verse I’m referencing comes from 2 Corinthians 12:9: 

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV)

Before this writing process, I would never have put “weakness’ and “boasting” in the same sentence (at least not to describe myself). But every writing session started almost the same. I would sit on the couch in my office and be honest with the scribbles in my notebook, often saying, “God, I don’t have it, but I’m here.”

My brain was often tired. I didn’t feel like I was on my A-game. I wanted to quit at least a dozen times. And yet, even at my weakest points, God showed up, and he showed up strong. I felt his presence coursing through the words. I felt new ideas rushing to the surface. In the hours I would have been tempted to discount, God worked through me, and I don’t think I would have been able to say that if the book were written on my timetable.

In the fringe hours, I learned to be weak.

In the fringe hours, I learned to lean on the presence of God.

In the fringe hours, I learned to borrow strength like a library book.

In the fringe hours, I found a strange joy and new freedom in letting go of my need to appear self-sufficient.

The fringe hours are now some of my favorite parts of the day.

I won’t sugarcoat the idea of fringe hours. I don’t think there was a single writing session that I wanted to attend.

More often than not, I had to mentally prepare myself just to get in the headspace to enter the writing room.

And yet, looking back on those hours, I realize they are some of the most sacred experiences I’ve ever had. It felt like I was both getting back to the roots of why I started writing and also getting back to my love for God– the one who placed the passion for writing in me in the first place. It felt like reconnecting. It felt like stumbling upon something sacred and precious I wanted to protect. My office still feels cloaked in strange holiness from all the hours I spent tucked away, undocumented, just laying my soul bare into this book.

And reader, that’s what I would give you if I could. I wish I could give you my experience with the fringe hours and the resilience that formed in me. It’s a deep well of beauty that I now cherish so closely, but I’m afraid it’s not something I can pass along. 

But I can pass along the idea of the fringe hours to you. 

I can rave about it from my corner of the Internet.

I can invite you not to discount the fringe hours of your day but to try to show up in the spaces of the day when you think you’re at the end of your rope and see what God can do with your sacrifice. 

I can do all these things, but you must close the door and turn off the devices. It’s must be you who sits in the writer’s chair and dares to ask, “Could something be waiting for me within the fringe hours?” 

Yes, yes, I think it might be.

p.s.

My new book, The Unplugged Hours, comes out on September 17! Preorder your copy and I’ll send you the first 40 pages today.

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Read Me When Your Faith Feels Tired.

If I close my eyes, I can still plant myself at the beginning of the 2020 pandemic. The world was shutting down all around us. No one had any idea what was happening. We were trying to figure out how to wash boxes of cereal we bought at the grocery store. The streets were full of people suddenly taking up the hobby of afternoon walking. We were all being diligent– two weeks to flatten the curve.

I was nine months pregnant. New York had just removed partners from the delivery room. We didn’t know if Lane would be with me while giving birth to our daughter. I remember staying up late– 1am, 2am– scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. I think that’s where my need for unplugging truly manifested.

I was addicted to 24/7 news coverage, and it was leaving me in an anxious spiral. Like many people, I thought if I could just consume more news stories, maybe somewhere during the consumption, there’d be a solution—a golden ticket that would get us all out of this mess.

Those four weeks before our daughter’s birth were spent in isolation. We were a diligent team: my husband, mom, our puppy Tuesday, and Chuck Bass.

In terms of faith, I felt helpless to fight forward. I felt lost and confused. But I remember falling into this sweet rhythm with God I’d never experienced. I felt incapable of doing any extensive Bible study during that time. My brain could handle maybe 15 minutes at a time of focusing.

For so long, I’d told myself the story that 15 minutes wasn’t enough time to give to God. Please tell me I’m not the only one who has done this before: placed all these limitations on themselves and/or how they define quiet time. 

I learned that it was more than enough in that season. God started meeting me so powerfully—15 minutes at a time—and my faith began to swell and surge in that season of unknowns.

I would sit in my big chair by the window. I would start the same way daily: huffing and puffing at God and bullying myself for not having the strength to stay optimistic during a global pandemic.

But then I would pray—no big, mighty prayers. I would simply tell God I was stuck in the pit, drop him a pin for my exact location, and then ask him for one thing: for the next rung on the ladder—just the next rung so I could start climbing out.

That small ask—becoming a sturdy little rhythm in my prayer life—was how the peace began to pour in through the cracks, how the fog started to lift, and how I started to see hope where I’d previously only seen darkness. It was my little clearing amid what felt like dark woods.

The prayer wasn’t illustrious, but it worked. It sprawled in the dark like a mustard seed planted in the thick of dry soil. The little prayer worked so long as I kept returning to the same place, day after day, and asking for the next rung on the ladder.

Maybe that’s you today. Maybe you feel like you’re in the pit. You’re tired or depressed or you’ve found yourself in a space that feels darker than you ever imagined. You’re at the bottom of the ladder, looking up and thinking, “How will I climb my way out?”

Let me tell you some truth for your Monday:

We think we need to conquer the whole ladder because that’s how the world talks—with big anthems of productivity, slaying, and measuring results. But I love that faith can live and thrive in a realm of BOTH/AND.

Both the mountains moving and the offering of two coins.

Both the sea parting and the washing in the Jordan River.

Both the resurrection and the visiting of a tomb.

Both the fighting of a giant and the touching of the hem of a garment.

So let’s talk about today. Just today. Just this moment. Just the next ladder rung—the next thing—the littlest truth to carry us into the next day.

It’s possible your job today isn’t to conquer the whole ladder. Your job isn’t to look at someone else’s ladder and wonder why you feel so far behind. Just ask for the next rung. Your next rung. Your next small step. One day at a time. And don’t feel defeated if your next rung looks like standing still today and knowing Someone is fighting on your behalf. That’s movement. That’s growth. You can stand still and show huge faith, all in that one posture.

Please give grace to yourself in all this chaos. It’s been a really, really tough season, and you’re doing the thing. You’re here. In today’s world, that counts for something. You’re remaining in the thick of it. You’re doing unspeakably hard things, and it matters.

Ask for the next rung. Just start there.

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My No-Nonsense Review of the Pranamat

Honesty hour: I walked into the new year feeling a little burned out.

I spent the bulk of 2023 writing my next book, and while I love writing books, the process can be stressful. My body felt the strain this time of juggling writing with working and raising a human.

As a result, I found myself stressed and unable to unwind once the writing was done. My body felt like it was stuck in fight-or-flight mode. The smallest things—like opening my inbox in the middle of the day or completing a simple errand—felt like massive hurdles. I was easily overwhelmed, and I knew I needed to find ways to relax.

So, when I discovered a massage set called Pranamat ECO, it felt like the perfect timing. I’d heard about the benefits of using an acupressure massage set but had never tried one. I felt ready to use the product in a way I wouldn’t have been a year or two earlier when I didn’t see or truly value the power of resting.

It wasn’t until I hit my 30s that I realized I needed to incorporate more rhythms of rest into my daily life. I needed to find easy, enjoyable ways to unwind and keep my body happy.

As a result, Lane and I have been pressing into more wellness practices this year– little routines to strengthen and rejuvenate us amid life’s fullness. You can find us cold-plunging in the bathtub and hanging out in the sauna at the YMCA. Incorporating more wellness into our daily lives has been a lot of fun for us. The Pranamat has fit into my daily routine pretty seamlessly.

This massage set has become one of the most used products in our home. Lane and I have to take turns because we both want to use it at night to fall asleep. I’ll walk into our room at random times of the day to find him lying on the pranamat. I think Lane is quickly becoming Pranamat’s biggest fan.

As for me, using the Pranamat has become a part of my nighttime routine– a powerful way to unwind while doing things I already love.

A little background on this powerful acupressure set. Pranamat ECO is based on the principles of acupressure, which traveled West from ancient China. The term “prana mat” actually means “bed of nails.” That may sound intimidating, but the experience of laying on an acupressure mat is powerful. It’s very intense at first so you need to get used to the pressure. But once you do, it’s amazing… intense and warming, pleasing at the same time.

The company gifted me this product. That said, I care deeply about what I recommend to you. It was really important for me to use the product and weave it into my routines before reporting back. 

If you know me, I am a big fan of habit stacking.

If you’re unfamiliar with the term, habit stacking is a strategy for building new habits by tying them to existing habits or routines that you already have. Think of a new habit you want to add to your daily life and hitch it to an already-established habit you do regularly. 

I love reading a little before going to sleep. I put on my blue light glasses, crawl into bed, and curl up with my Kindle and a cup of tea. Because this is a habit I already enjoy, adding the pranamat massage set to the mix was easy.

I lay on the pranamat as I read and feel my body relax—fair warning: the spikes are intense, but they’re amazing. I still wear a thin T-shirt while using the mat, as I’m working on the courage to go bare-back.

I lay against the acupressure set, and a sense of calm comes almost instantly. In researching the benefits of using a massage mat, I learned that laying on the mat can trigger the body’s relaxation response. It’s crazy that I can feel something shifting in my body when I get on the mat. I can feel the day’s stress falling off of me. My body grows more tired and heavy as I continue to press in and before long, I’m dozing off to sleep. 

I find the mat incredible, but the quality is not surprising when considering the company and its deep values. Just a few of my favorite things I love about about Pranamat ECO:

They value satisfaction. Pranamat comes with a 30-day trial period so you can make sure you fall in love with the process.They value the long haul. The massage set comes with a 5-year warranty, so you can guarantee you’ll be using it often.They value sustainability. Pranamat ECO is made using energy from only renewable sources.Most importantly, they value human beings. They handmake their products and do not outsource their work to sweatshops that don’t pay a living wage. They believe in ethical production and a creative, egalitarian, and diverse work environment.

If you’re nodding your head, and thinking, “I need to find ways to unwind,” then maybe these words found you at the perfect time. You’re ready to add a new wellness routine into your busy life. Using this massage set is simple, and enjoyable, and you can feel the effects of the mat almost instantly.

If you’re ready to experience the acupressure mat for yourself, you can purchase the Pranamat ECO here. 

I know it can be hard to prioritize these routines but go through your day knowing this: you are allowed to unwind and destress. It’s okay to start seeking out small ways to put relaxation into practice. You deserve it, and your body deserves it.

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A Morning Routine I’m Loving These Days.

We’re almost at the halfway mark of 2024, and I wanted to share something with you that has made all the difference in my life this year. There’s no denying that this year feels different for me. I feel more grounded and at peace. I feel less frantic or overwhelmed and more focused and clear. And there’s one rhythm that stands out clearly for why I think this way (I’ve embedded it into my morning routine). It’s something I’ve fondly started calling my morning meeting.

At the start of the year, I decided to make meeting with God each morning the focal point of my life. The pinnacle of my day.

I found myself deeply moved by these words in Psalm 5,

“Every morning

 you’ll hear me at it again.

Every morning

 I lay out the pieces of my life

 on your altar…”

I decided to take this framework and make it practical in my daily life. 

Nearly every morning, I follow the same routine:

I pour my morning coffee, head up to my office, and open up my notebook.

And I ask God: what do I need to do today? What do I need to see?

It sounds precisely like a quiet time but it feels different. The meeting feels like clearing the space every morning to let God speak into my life and give me clear directives for the paths ahead. The meeting feels like a chance to check in with what’s on the calendar, what’s ahead, and what’s required of me– a moment to breathe, gather my thoughts, and plot a way forward.

NO MATTER WHAT: MY MORNING ROUTINE

In my courses, I discuss the importance of establishing your “non-negotiables.” These are the things that must happen in your daily life. They are the top priority. And yes, there will certainly be times when these things don’t happen, but if we can learn to prioritize them, our lives will operate more smoothly.

My morning meeting is now one of those things. It gives me peace and calm. It sets me up for the day. And it has become a non-negotiable– even when I’m tempted to say, “I don’t have time.” I would say that 95% of my mornings this year have included a morning meeting. Even if we wake up late and I have to get Novi off to school, I still make it a point to go to my office right after drop-off for my morning meeting– before starting work.

I don’t want to walk into my day without the breath of God upon it. Checking in with myself matters more than checking emails or social media. There are plans for the day—goals and expectations—but God often has better ones in mind. Those better plans cannot be followed if space is never carved out to be still and listen.

And here’s the thing: I don’t have a time block for my morning meeting. I don’t tell myself how long it has to take. Instead, I show up to the rhythm of a morning routine and go from there. Some morning meetings are longer, and I get the chance to linger in them. Some morning meetings are five minutes, but they are like a much-needed water break amid a marathon. Each meeting has the same expectation, “Lay the pieces of your life down. Pick up what you need.”

Your Routine Overhaul

Your Roadmap to Healthy Habits and Lasting Routines.

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Last updated Nov 17th, 2022

Select a Pricing PlanOne-Time Payment$197Buy nowTHE WORLD IS LOUD (AND WE ALL NEED A MORNING ROUTINE)

Out of habit, many of us will reach for our devices first thing in the morning. We check emails. We start to scroll. Sometimes, we don’t even know or realize that we’ve picked up the phone before we’re knee-deep in some conspiracy theory on TikTok or watching another Selena Gomez/Justin Bieber glory days mash-up (just me and my algorithm?). We might not realize that we’re starting the day by allowing other people’s fingerprints to get all over our day before even that first sip of coffee.

Friend, it’s possible we need a better morning routine if scrolling or checking is the first thing we find ourselves doing in the morning. If you’re reading this email and thinking, Gosh, I barely have any routines, start with this one. Start with a morning meeting– effective immediately. For the first five minutes of your day. And if you need a little help forging this new habit, don’t be afraid to tap me in. It doesn’t have to be fancy. You don’t need a new notebook to start. Just clear the space and begin– imperfectly and wobbly. It all counts.

In this age of constant connectivity, we need to be diligent about clearing out some of the noise to benefit from stillness, hear God more clearly, quiet the voices of criticism, and uncover that slower, peace-filled pace.

For a long time, I did not have this morning routine and I think other parts of my life suffered. Now that I have it, I’m never stopping because I feel the daily benefits of starting my morning with stillness and listening, rather than noise.

WE ALL HAVE DIFFERENT PLATES.

Right now, in this very season, you are called to something completely different than me. You might be called to a career. This might be a season of learning to be deeply intentional with your health and wellness. You might be in the thick of parenting tiny humans, raising them to be kind and brave members of society. Or you might be entering a season of empty-nesting for the first time. We all have things on our plates and need something different to get us through the day.

I say all of this because carving time in the morning allows us to examine what is on our plates and be intentional about it.

As I’m writing these words, Lane is recovering from surgery and we are in the thick of May-maggedon (which I get it, I get why we call it May-maggedon). And so today, in my morning meeting, I wanted to stack the day high with expectations and a long-winded to-do list but God gently nudged me in a different direction.

The stillness prompted me to look at what matters for today. Sometimes, that mission for the day or the week is very work-centered, and that’s totally okay. But for now, the work on my plate is the memo I wrote down in today’s morning meeting: take care of your people well. Don’t stack this day with things for the future– be here now. Make the soup. Do the laundry. Unplug a little longer. One thing at a time– God will meet you at the end of every task to tell you where a new one should begin.

ACCOUNTABILITY TO YOURSELF MATTERS.

This is a big one, and I discuss it again and again in Your Routine Overhaul: the importance of being accountable to yourself.

I am all for cheerleaders and people who help hold us to the standard we say we want to live at, but what does it say about us if we’re incapable of being accountable to ourselves? If we don’t learn to stop the self-sabotage and partner with ourselves?

If I have a meeting set on the calendar with someone, I’ll honor that meeting. I’ll show up and follow through with what I say I will do. But, for some reason, when I make a gym date with myself and get halfway through the day and my willpower starts to fizzle, I have no qualms about canceling that gym date with myself. I’ll do it tomorrow, I tell myself.

For someone reading this email today, you’re repeatedly letting yourself down, and it’s wearing on you. You show up for everyone around you, but you give yourself whatever scraps still exist at the end of the day. You unintentionally live by the anthem, “I’ll start again tomorrow.”

Did you know that eventually, when you quit on yourself one too many times, your brain stops expecting you to show up? It becomes so used to the failure that it learns to expect it from you. When that becomes the case, you need to build tiny habits that look like showing up and taking care of yourself. In the building process, you renew your belief in yourself and can start to take on bigger goals.

You are allowed to make important commitments to yourself and have those commitments matter just as much as anything else. 

The morning routine is a commitment I’ve made to myself, and it matters. Setting your day into motion intentionally matters. Fueling up to better serve others matters. It prompts me to start the day with prayer and a fuel-up rather than scrolling, going through emails, or plowing right into work that needs to be done. 

It’s a simple (not easy) way to tell myself, “You matter, and I believe you matter. I’m not going to abandon you today or go back on promises we made to ourselves for the betterment of ourselves. We’re on this day together and we’re committed to health, wholeness, and goodness- one small act at a time. Let’s do this thing.”

I always need more of those grace-filled pep talks. And maybe, today, you did too.

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Make Magic Out of the Mundane

Today, I have the privilege of sharing an excerpt from my friend Allison Fallon’s new book, Write Your Story. Allison is one of my favorite voices in the writing sphere. She is honest, vulnerable, and a natural teacher. You can order her new book here. Enjoy!

You don’t need fantastical details to write an interesting story. You just need a unique perspective. And the lens of storytelling can give you exactly that. 

What you will find is that writing your story helps you become more interesting. When you write your story, you will become more interesting to the people around the dinner table, to your coworkers, to your spouse and your children and your friends. Most importantly, though, you will become more interesting to yourself. Writing your story is about changing your identity. It’s about changing how you see yourself, how you talk about yourself, and how you carry yourself. 

The truth is, you are already interesting. You are endlessly fascinating, and in the course of this book I am going to help you pull the elements out of your story to prove to you that it’s true. When you put the events of your story in the right order and apply meaning to those events, others can learn from and be inspired by you.

Make Magic out of the Mundane

You might have an inherently fascinating story to tell. I once worked with a writer who was held hostage for twenty-four hours by her undiagnosed schizophrenic boyfriend. Her story reads like an episode of Law & Order. But if that’s not your experience, you’re not at a disadvantage. Even a seemingly “ordinary” life still holds magic inside of it.

I understand the feeling of an ordinary life. At the time I’m writing this, I have a one-year-old and a two-year-old at home. My two-year-old daughter is obsessed with PAW Patrol and walks around singing the theme song over and over, until it’s stuck in my head. Before I left the house this morning to write this chapter, my one-year-old son rubbed mashed bananas all over my coat. I cleaned up the mess as best I could with a baby wipe, but I’ll need to take the coat to the dry cleaner’s later. 

Riveting, I know. 

The shape of a story is not created from extravagant details. The shape of a story is created through conflict and resolution. Through passion and desire. Through wanting something you can’t yet have. Through believing something must be possible but not being able to make it happen (yet).

That is me, writing my newest book, Write Your Story. I believe it can be easy and fun to write your story, and I want to make that possible for as many people as I can. For whoever would like to give it a try. It’s what keeps me glued here to my seat, in the sea of other monotonous things that might occur around me. The buzz of the espresso machine. The meeting happening at the table next to me. The slime smeared down the right arm of my coat.

Right now, I’m singularly focused. I will finish writing my book before the year’s end. That’s the story I’m writing—both figuratively and literally, I suppose.

So take a minute and consider what story you might be writing. 

Where is the conflict in your life? What’s keeping you up at night?What drives you crazy?What makes you furious? What’s blocking you or getting in your way? What do you want that you don’t (yet) have? 

Maybe for you, it’s obvious. Maybe there’s a big incident that happened earlier in your life that you’d like to write about. Losing a parent. Adopting your kids. Meeting your spouse. Leaving a toxic relationship. Growing a company. Suffering abuse. 

Or perhaps you’re not as sure. You’d like to write an interesting story, but your life seems to be a little flat. Who would the hero be? you wonder as you sit at your computer screen for the fourth consecutive hour. What is the conflict? Does it count that the coffee shop was out of my favorite kind of milk?

It is in this way that storytelling invites us to do far more than commit our life to paper. It guides us to ask the big questions that stories answer.

What is this life I’m living all about? 

Who is the hero? 

What did she overcome? 

How did that change her?

Years ago, as a brand-new writer, I quit my job and spent a year traveling across the country in my Subaru Outback with a friend as a way to “stir up” conflict in my very ordinary life. I knew I wanted to write something interesting, and I figured I need to “make something interesting happen” in order to do that. As it turns out, my life was more interesting than I’d predicted it to be—even without the stunt of the road trip (although the road trip turned out to be a fun adventure I’m glad I took). 

One Thousand Stories

After college, my brother spent a decade in Hollywood working behind the scenes on movie and TV sets. One summer I went to visit him in LA while he was working on a popular reality TV show. He took me out to one of his favorite clubs, and a few cast members from a different reality show were playing pool there. I was barely twenty-one and starstruck.

On the drive home, I remember telling my brother how cool the night had been, how amazing it would be to live the life he was living, and how one day I wanted to be on TV too. I was young and naive, but I remember my notoriously laid-back brother getting stern with me and telling me that under no circumstances should I ever—EVER—agree to allow anyone to turn my life into a reality TV show. 

“You probably won’t get the opportunity,” he said, “but if you do, promise me you’ll  turn it down.” I didn’t say anything. “There are a thousand stories you could tell about any one person,” he said. “Don’t give someone else the power to choose which one gets shared.” 

That conversation has never left me. Not because of reality TV. Because of what my brother said. There are a thousand stories you could tell about any one person. How you frame a life, how you choose to tell the stories of any one person, is what goes down in history. How you articulate a story is the way we all remember it. 

Was your divorce the worst thing that ever happened to you, or the best? Was raising your children the hardest thing you’ve ever done, or the most joy-filled? The death of that loved one was tragic, absolutely, but wasn’t it also the portal that opened you up to miracles and magic? You get to decide how the story is told, and therefore how it is remembered—not just by you, but by anyone who reads it.

Whatever you do, don’t leave the telling of your story to someone else. You can use a tool like storytelling to magnify the brilliance of your own existence. In order to do that, you’ll need to know what your story is really about.

Taken from Write Your Story by Ally Fallon. 

MEET THE AUTHOR

Allison Fallon is an author of Write Your Story and founder of Find Your Voice, a community that supports anyone who wants to write anything. In addition to her books The Power of Writing It Down, Packing Light and Indestructible, she has ghostwritten 11 books and has collaborated on countless others. Through Find Your Voice, she has helped leaders of multinational corporations, stay-at-home moms, Olympic gold medalists, recovering addicts, political figures, CEOs, and prison inmates use her methods as powerful tools to generate positive change in their lives. She has lived all over the country in the past decade but now lives in Nashville, Tenn., with her husband and two kids, Nella and Charlie.

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Spring is Coming

I’ll start with honesty: This Monday Club email feels different. I don’t think this message is for everyone. It’s for a specific person (or persons), and some other day, in another season entirely, it will be for someone else.

Writing these words down feels raw and vulnerable, like I’m giving you a peek into my private spiritual life. I hope you’ll hold it with kindness. I hope the words find who they’re intended for.

Nine years ago, I was in the battle for my life.

Even though next year will mark a decade since I fought through the dark woods of severe depression, there are days when it still feels so fresh to me. Days where old memories move into view. Days where I look around and marvel at how much has changed.

I’m sure some seasons mark us forever. We’ll always think about them, tracing the scars they left on us.

I remember crying out to God on the floor of my childhood bedroom, asking him to speak to me. “Just say something,” I whimpered. “Something that will make me know I’m coming out of this place.”

I write these words carefully—with the utmost sense of caution—because there have been plenty of days and moments when I’ve been met with silence or when I didn’t hear God’s words or get the direction immediately. I’ve learned that hearing from God rarely comes in a dramatic fashion or an audible voice.

But on this day, amid that cry, an image of a notebook formed in my mind.

The notebook had a black spine and yellow-lined pages. An illustration of a peacock feather spread across the front, with some kind of artist’s effect that made the whole notebook shimmer. I instantly knew the notebook in the vision.

There was a tug to find that notebook. Flip through the pages.

I searched until I found it in an old Tupperware bin. A few years earlier, I’d filled the peacock notebook with lines packed with dreams, blog ideas, prayers, and to-do lists.

I flipped until I reached one page and a collection of words huddled in the margin:

“Gather all your worries and give them to Me, for I have already delivered you from this evil. I have not forgotten you—you are My little dandelion.”

I traced those words with my fingers. They stunned me. They’d been written years earlier, though I couldn’t recall exactly when. And what had I been going through during that time? And what parts of me didn’t know this would be a message I would need in the future? It felt like a strange prophecy that had been planted in that notebook for such a time as this.

The most striking detail was the part about the little dandelion. It was odd because I am not a fan of flower metaphors. I’m okay with the symbol of a buffalo, a bird, a mountain, or a river, but the imagery stops at flowers.

And yet here it was… a little dandelion.

I remember pulling open my computer and frantically Googling. Years earlier, when I first wrote the words, I hadn’t bothered to wonder about the symbolism of the dandelion, but I knew that this little dandelion was for me in this current pit.

If you dig deeper into dandelions’ symbolism, they represent resilience and survival, hope and healing.

Even deeper, they symbolize the start of a new season, specifically spring. When people see dandelions sprouting across the green grass– it indicates that spring is coming (or it is already here).

It was mid-February when I saw the notebook in my mind and traced my fingers along the prophetic collection of words that assured me, “I have not forgotten you—you are My little dandelion.”

I felt this deep knowing in my spirit that the depression was going to begin to shift and lift with the coming of spring that year. Spring was coming soon. That moment felt so holy. It felt like a lifeline dropping down into the dark for me.

I repeated these words to myself over and over: Spring is coming. Spring is coming.

It felt like mustard seeds planted in the deep, dark woods. Suddenly, I could hold on longer. 

…

Just the other day, I was sitting quietly in my office, journaling and praying, when the memory of me with the notebook on the floor of my childhood bedroom broke through. It was out of nowhere and entirely out of place. I hadn’t thought of it in years.

I heard the words, “Spring is coming,” rising in my spirit.

To be honest, the whole experience felt strange. But then I thought, maybe I’m meant to carry this message to someone who needs it. Perhaps someone needs a lifeline dropped into the dark for them, or needs to hear:

Spring is coming. 

You’ve traveled this road for a long time, and it has been immensely dark in some pockets and bends. But you’ve been seen through it all– covered by a grace you can’t always feel or comprehend, but it hangs over you like a cloak. It wraps you in and does not release.

Spring is coming.

 I know this has been such a long season of feeling unseen, but what if the hiddenness held its own purpose? What if, in the hiddenness, qualities were forged that will you take into this next season?

We forget that fire forms us—that shaping comes through heat. In the fiery process, the dross falls away, and the gold emerges. No one ever said it wouldn’t be painful– downright costing– to become golden.

Spring is coming.

May you speak those three words like a breath prayer over your tired, worn-down spirit.

New things are starting to emerge from beneath the surface– in places where you swore off growth entirely. You thought these things were buried so deep that you’d never recover them again, but things you lost are returning to life.

Parts of yourself you discounted or tore down are reemerging.

Spring is coming.
Spring is coming.
Spring is coming.

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Read Me When You Need a Reminder that Things Fall Into Place

 

I’m cleaning out my closet today.

What started as needing to find a specific sweatshirt for my daughter has morphed into this:

Clothes released from the confines of every drawer.
Piles scattered all over the green velvet comforter.
Three trash bags of clothes (that I honestly swear were bought by someone else) stand by the door.
And about two dozen single socks.

I started by emptying the sock drawer, fully anticipating I would have several stray socks.

Years ago, I would have been adamant about finding the matching socks almost immediately.
Years before that, I likely wouldn’t have even cared. I’d have clumped them all together in a drawer and waited for when I needed a pair to deal with the matter.

But, as I slowly made my way through the clothes piles, I discovered matches.

Match after match.

I dutifully worked my way from pile to pile– from jeans to tops to athleisure– finding socks all along the way that matched.

The writer in me, who can’t perform a single task without digging to find a lesson within it, marveled at the process. Socks were reappearing, seemingly out of nowhere– divinely, maybe serendipitously gravitating towards one another.

There was no forcing. No manhunt. It happened seamlessly, all on its own, as I kept showing up to the next pile.

Isn’t that so much of life?

So much of what we spend our precious energy fretting over ends up working itself out. All on its own. All in its season. All in the right timing.

But we need frequent reminders. We force, and we push. We try to take matters into our own hands and do things before we’re ready to do them. We give in to this pressure, this belief that we must have it all figured out– everything has to match and fit to proceed.

And yet, life teems with the “not yet” and the “not right now.” Many days, there are just piles to tend to, even though we’re largely unsure of how to make other things fit.

…

When the room was cleared, one lone sock sat in the middle of the floor. Black with two white stripes at the ankle. I scooped it up and tucked it into the sock drawer. An ode to one day finding its match. Not even ten minutes later, standing in my daughter’s room, I spied the other sock on her dresser. Completely out of place but perfectly on time. I smiled. A God wink.

…

So, the real question: Did I arrive in your inbox today to talk about socks?

Yes. Socks, and other things, and prompting for the one who needs to read it:

Things are going to fall into place.
Embrace the pile right in front of you– it’s all you really can do.
Be gentle with yourself in the process.
Leave space for the missing socks of your life, for all that feels unsettled right now.
Things are sorting themselves.
Not with force or shoving. Not before they’re ready.

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How to Create an Advent Experience for Kids.

One of my most vivid memories of the holiday season growing up was running downstairs every morning to check the Advent calendar hung on the wall. It’s a tradition my mom started with us early. Each morning, we’d open up a new flap of the cardboard calendar and read the verse or part of the Christmas story for the day. It was a rhythm that began on December 1 and ended on Christmas Day.

As Lane and I started to grow our family, I knew I wanted to incorporate the magic and joy of Advent into our home. That’s one of the coolest parts of raising a family– deciding which traditions will be your traditions and the staples of your home together.

As you can probably tell from my Advent series, I love this season and all that it means.

The word “Advent” comes from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming.”

During this season, we engage in Advent to plant great expectations in our hearts for the birth of a baby in a manger, the Christ who we believe changed all of history.

This year will be the first year we celebrate Advent with Novalee. She is still under two, so I don’t anticipate she will fully “get it,” but I know she will enjoy the excitement of checking the Advent calendar every morning to see what is waiting for her.

From ages 1-5 is when a child’s brain is the spongiest. She is soaking up everything around her and keeping it stored in her noggin. So I know she will pocket parts of this season and savor them for years to come. It will be a tradition we follow throughout childhood.

I bought this Advent calendar at Crate and Barrel. It was a little more than I would typically spend on an Advent, but the goal is that we will use it for years to come. This calendar allows us to fill the pockets with parts of the Christmas Story and little trinkets all season long.

If you have little ones, there are ways for you to incorporate the beauty of the Christmas Story into a fun Advent tradition!

Start with an Advent calendar or make your own.

There is no lack of options in the stores for Advent calendars. It seems everyone is producing Advent calendars- Disney, Sesame Street, Jo Jo Siwa.

I would ask myself: What is the reason for this season in my heart? What is the one thing I want to make sure the kids know about this season as they grow up?

We want Novalee to know the reason for Christmas. We want her to love Jesus and celebrate his birth. We want her to love others and be giving and charitable. We want her to know that to love Jesus is always to love everyone in your orbit. Whatever your reason, make sure the Advent calendar hanging in your home reflects that.

Fun ways to fill the pockets.

Our Advent calendar has small pockets, so we are filling each pocket with a bit of trinket or fun experience for that day. Some of the charms we are putting in the Advent calendar this year:

Bubble bath paint

Coloring book

Light-up bouncy ball

Ornaments

Stickers

Festive candy

Little dolls

I got most of these things from the $1 section at Target. We don’t choose to put anything more significant than a stocking stuffer into the pockets of the Advent. The trinkets are meant to be fun but not the main thing.

Tell the story however you can.

Novalee is going to be 20 months when Advent rolls around. She will not understand the story fully, but there is no reason we can’t still tell her the story, so she begins to take it all in.

We have a wooden nativity I bought years ago that we set up each season. This year, I set up the stable, but there is no one inside yet.

One pocket of the Advent calendar holds the farm animals.

One pocket of the Advent calendar holds Mary + Joseph.

One pocket of the Advent holds the Wisemen + shepherds.

One pocket of the Advent (Christmas Day) holds Baby Jesus.

As she pulls characters from the pocket for that day, we put the characters in the stable and tell her that piece of the Christmas story.

One of her pockets does have a board book of the Christmas Story so that will be another element where she learns our true reason for celebration.

On day 23, I placed cupcake wrappers in the pocket. Novi loves to bake with us, so, together, we’ll bake some cupcakes to celebrate baby Jesus. On day 24, I placed a single birthday candle in the pocket! We will take the cupcakes to our Christmas Eve celebration for everyone to enjoy, but we will make sure we sing happy birthday to Jesus first.

This tradition is another sweet ode to my childhood. I have such vivid memories of us all singing to baby Jesus on Christmas Eve and blowing out the candles before devouring a chocolate cake. I’ve waited a long time to be able to do this with my babe!

Giving to others + one another.

This element is significant for me. My mom raised me to know the Holiday season was a season for giving, not getting. At a young age, I started going to food banks, dancing in charity events, and collecting toys for kids who wouldn’t have as extravagant of a Christmas that year. If I want Novi to know anything, it’s that we are blessed so we can bless others with our time, our finances, and our gifts.

In the Advent calendar, we will have an experience where she will go shopping for other kids. She will pick out toys for them, and we’ll explain to her the importance of giving to others.

I’ve also filled some pockets of the calendar with gifts for others. Novi will get a chance to give a cool, little present to daddy and her dog Tuesday during the Advent experience. Through this gifting, she can start to learn the joy of giving.

Experiences > Everything

Trinkets are fun, but I know the actual memories of this season will be the time we spend together– being present and in the moment.

We intentionally add little “dates,” as we’re calling them to some of the pockets.

They have little invites on them like:

Let’s go see the lights.

AND

Let’s make some cookies together today! (I bought a cookie scooper for this pocket).

So quickly, the season can become about things beneath the tree. We hope to pepper this year with lots of memories and chances to be together.

I hope these tricks and tips will help you create your own unique Advent experience with your kids. As Novi gets older, the Advent will become less about the trinkets and more about the story of Christmas.

The story of newborn King.

The story of a great star.

The story of wanderers coming– from far and wide– to see the hope of the world laying in a manger.

I know so many of us are craving joy and peace this time of year. Amid uncertain circumstances, we can create pockets of that joy and peace to share with others. I’m praying this Advent experience will be one that floods our lives and yours with joy, togetherness, and many memories for years to come.

I’d love to hear from you:

In moving my blog to a newer platform, I sadly had to let go of the thousands of comments and conversations that came from readers over the last 10+ years. This grieves me deeply but I know there will new conversations, fresh words of wisdom, and opportunities to create close community once again. I’d love to hear from you in the comments section. I’ll be reading + replying on a regular basis.

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