(image by yes you maigh)

With all the New Year’s Resolutions talk, lately, I’ve been learning about how you cannot always place milestones as measurement for your success.  Goals are great.  I’m type A so believe me, I get goals.  Goals are my love language.  But sometimes what we are shooting for ends up looking different from we thought it would.  So then, when you work really hard and actually get to the medal podium it never feels quite like you thought it would.  Frustrating.  And disheartening.

I want to keep setting goals to push myself but I want to stop allowing those goal to hold my happiness hostage.  I realize now that’s not the goal’s fault but rather my own inability to be happy on the journey. Not setting goals isn’t the answer and setting all the goals isn’t the answer.  It’s about understanding our own personalities and what systems enable us to function at our highest and best use.  If I’m going to push myself I need all the help I can get.  Let’s not make an uphill battle worse, my friends.

With too many goals or resolutions our journey looks like we are in a river  jumping from rock to rock to avoid the water below when the water is glorious and lovely all on it’s own.  I want to feel the pride in landing a big jump from two ill placed rocks but I also want to taste the fresh spring water and splash around like a kid just because I can.

2016- Here’s to medal podiums that bring us joy, big rocks to conquer and cool fresh water to remind us that we’re still alive.

May 2016 be a year forward for you.  Forward moving, forward thinking and forward-looking.  I’m forward-ing with you, friend.  Cheers.

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(I make no apologies for expressing myself through coloring my prematurely gray roots.)

I dress people for a living.  Well, that sounds weird.  Let’s try that again.  As a wardrobe stylist I dress SAHMs, corporate executives, music artists and, on a good day, myself before I go to the grocery store.  The thing that I hear people say so often during a fit session is ‘Oh, this is SO ME.’  As a creative, I love that because it means that I have tapped into something deeper than just the idea that they like the color blue.  I was able to read their personal innuendos enough to choose pieces of clothing that express their temperament.  In many ways, we could stop the appointment right there because *technically* I’ve succeeded at my job.  Truth be told, I don’t think there is anything wrong with finding an outfit that is ‘so you’.  It’s kind of exhilarating, really.

The biggest problem with self-expression is that self-obsession is only a few steps further down that road.

Listen, dress yourself powerfully or playfully.  Dress for your mood and wear the Halloween costume.  But please don’t get stuck thinking that if you’re not ‘expressing yourself’ every minute of everyday then you are a victim.  You’re not.  You’re a believer.  And believers don’t get caught up in that sort of thing.  They know that the only kind of self-expression they need be obsessed with is the life changing grace of Jesus Christ.  He radically takes us from having to prove ourselves to pinching ourselves that we were created in His image.  Imago Dei. (here and here)

He’s good to us.  He’s so good in fact that he created each of us differently unique and beautiful.  And for that reason alone I’m no enemy to self-expression.  Let’s just make sure we are expressing the self that has come to life through the saving work of Jesus Christ.  That’s an expression I can get behind.

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Lord-

Big photo shoot this week went above and beyond what I could have imagined.  That’s what you do though, isn’t it.  You specialize in above and beyond.  You bring tiny particles of hope together in order to weave a tapestry of a life fit for a King.  Just when we think ‘it’s happening’ and our lives are finally coming together, we take a step back to see a proud Father showing off his craftsmanship.  It’s not happening.  You’re happening.

There are moments that tell us perhaps our hearts won’t always be hardened pieces of muscle in our chest and that they might actually race for someone or something again.  That perhaps the rhythm of our heart does, once again, determine the level of our affection for our craft and not just the anxiety creativity produces.

There’s still a chance that we can take off monotony’s winter fur and let our bodies feel the warmth of You Happening.  We remind ourselves that we won’t forever be cooped up or huddled up.  We will fly and move and run our race at our pace in our own time.  And be proud.  Proud that You delivered this amazing life and proud that we hung on in obedience.

When people ask us, ‘How did you get here?’ our answer will be simple….’I hung on to His promises for dear life and he in turn gave me just that.  A dear, sweet life.’

Thank you for happening, Jesus,

LB

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You can’t just ‘get wise’.  You can ‘get smarter’.  Sign up for a new degree program, sure!  Apply for a technical certificate to be a metal worker, you betcha!  But wisdom hums a different tune and skips to her own beat.   Wisdom knows her value and isn’t cheap.  She cost something.  Multiple somethings usually.  Most often she costs us years of our lives or perhaps some gray hair.  On the other hand, when wisdom comes to rest on the young it is sadly due to circumstances outside of their control.  They had no choice in the matter yet wisdom is the thing they came out clutching in the end.

Though she be costly, she is priceless.  Those two words are not interchangeable.  To start our adult lives and realize the costly gift of wisdom is one thing; to walk though the remainder of our lives with wisdom is priceless.

The beauty industry might lead you to believe that every fine line and wrinkle is an abomination to your future.  It’s not.  I promise.  I will be purchasing my fair share of wrinkle creams, I have no doubt, because everyone wants to look like the best version of themselves.  But don’t chase the school bus down the road.    Leave the backpack and the 80’s hair in the decade it belongs.  Be present and happy in today’s life.

Though wisdom be costly, it’s also priceless.  Just like you and your beautiful life, dear.

Love from the newly wrinkled girl behind the laptop,

LB

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(graphic by the amazing yesyoumaigh.  she is most certainly a boss.)

We haven’t really chatted about work much on here…I’m a wardrobe stylist!  Surprise!    I’ve had various styling opportunities in my day.  Everything from in-home consulting to working with brands like Bloomingdale’s and Anthropologie.  They each bring a different lesson.  Some easier than others but all necessary.  Here are a few school-house moments  I’ve learned through styling:

1. Always, always be kind.  You never know who you’re working with in any customer service platform; shoppers, customers associates, bosses and everyone in between.
2. Ask for what you want.  Employers can’t read minds and neither should they be required to do so.  It’s up to you, and only you, to ask for what you want.
3. No one thinks about you as much as you think about yourself.  I was so guilty of this.  Obsessed with appearing teachable and helpful…I had good intentions but no doubt I missed the Spirit’s leading on a few things bc I was so worried about myself.  I’m working on getting over myself so that I can do my job better.  I think that’s called being an adult?
4. Hard workers work hard in any situation…not just ones they like.  You don’t get to tell a leader that you didn’t work hard at a task because you weren’t given the opportunity to do what you ‘deserve’ to do.  You do the task at hand and deal with potential misleading in leadership later.  Don’t cause a ruckus just because your feelings got hurt.
5. You will have to work to earn your co-workers trust.  Just because you know that you’re a trust worthy person in your circles, doesn’t mean that your coworkers will trust you right away.  Or ever.  Trust is earned.  And don’t toss is around once you get it because if you drop it and it breaks you most certainly won’t get it put back together.
6. Respect is also earned.  I don’t care if you have 5 advanced degrees and an alphabet behind your name….if you treat people like they are expendable you will never win their respect.
7. Obedience is not the same thing as respect.  They often go hand in hand but they are not required to do so.  Think of any type of prisoner, they obey not out of respect for the guard but out of self protection.  Two very different things.
8. Being honest is always the right thing to do but being brutal is rarely necessary.   In styling specifically, I’m often asked my opinion.  I see this as an opportunity to speak honestly in an uplifting way.  It’s all about the delivery.  One builds and the other tears down and leaves you rocking in a fetal position in the dressing room vowing off denim for life.  And no one, I repeat no one, should vow off denim- my favorite piece of clothing! 
9. Real leaders don’t have to announce themselves.  Ever.  When a diva walks in, everyone knows it and they confuse recognition for praise.  A boss walks in and everyone acknowledges and follows her lead, not because they have to but because she’s right.  Be a boss not a diva.  Only Instagram likes divas.
10. Even a dream job has job-like moments.  Doctors still get blood on their scrubs and teachers still have to do paperwork.  Stylists still have to push racks and fold clothes.  When an occupation has ‘job-like’ moments don’t overlook the fact that hard work naturally produces humility.  Praise the Lord!

Be a boss not a diva.  You’re better than that.

LB

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Our 9th anniversary is coming up soon.  Actually, our 9th anniversary is on 9/9 so that’s cute.  Nine feels big for some reason.  I can’t quite put my finger on it but it feels substantial in my mind.  I think it feels momentous because it’s almost double digits.  Whoa.  Only old married people have been married for double digits.  The other reason it feels big is that I’ve recently been hanging out with some mid-twenties young ladies and one of them who has a boyfriend told me she wants to be me ‘when she grows up.’  Sweet, right?  Except I’m only 31 and now I feel like a dinosaur.  Didn’t see that one coming, college version of myself, did we?

In nine years we have learned what forgiveness means (over and over and over) and brought two children into this world by the grace of God, had a few job changes, three houses, lots of late night talks and some family tragedies.

In between all the excitement of the above events, when things slowed down and the evenings were ripe with conversation and prayers for early bedtime were answered, were the quiet years.  The quiet years gave us footing to handle the crazy.  Granted, even the quiet years weren’t necessary all quiet but still were calmer and routine and, yes, sometimes even monotonous.  We had to fight for connection and chose to lean into one another when other sources were calling us apart.  Work, kids, volunteering, family….they all have their own voices that, positive as they may be, do call us away sometimes.  We have to practice selective hearing from those outside voices and constant communication inside the home and with our Father.

The last nine years have demanded a lot from us but it has also given much in return.  I won’t tell you how many years have been quiet years but I’ll tell you that they steadied our ground for what was to come.  Even before we realized what was happening.  The quiet years could also be called the grounding years.  The anchor years.  And perhaps even the gifting years.  They are vital and necessary to a healthy relationship as it’s impossible to move forward with only busyness and hectic schedules to connect you.

I wish you quiet years, friend.  And some crazy because who wants just quiet?  But only enough to make you appreciate the quiet, slow and the normal.  The second cup of coffee or the late night waffle house date.  Those are the sweet times.

And as we stare down the 9 year mark I’m so thankful to have Brad to walk alongside for all of the good and the bad.  He’s my best friend and confidant and sometimes he even laughs at my (very corny) jokes.  Truly more than I deserve.  He’s shown me grace when I didn’t have a right to it and that sweet man has always been there to wipe my tears or make fun of my fierce bed head.

May year nine be a quiet one that we savor and settle into like the end of a favorite book.  You are my favorite book, Brad.

Cheers,

LB

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It was one of those long summer nights.  The kind where the sun seems to follow you on your drive home with the windows down and the sun roof open.

We had a great weekend.  It had all the right ingredients for a home-run weekend…..friends, church, relaxing and a little shopping.  It was on point.

That long summer night came as a sweet reminder that while I’ve been trying so hard to ‘find myself’ or my calling or my whatever….that God has remained faithfully present.  He’s the one that tells me my name for the 100th time when I forget who he says I am.  He speaks words like forgiven and redeemed and rescued over my head as blessings and promises.

I’ve realized that He knows my name but I also know His.  And His is unchanged and steadfast and cemented into the history of our earth.  The signs of His name are everywhere.  The air that rushes over my hair with the windows down is Him.  Just like the sun shine that warms my body to my bones…All Him.

Our lives are not part of God’s experiment.  He’s not on a probationary period from His boss.  He’s not just figuring this stuff out.  He’s not trying to balance the universe the way a Harlem Globetrotter does.  (No offense, they are very impressive)

He is fully in control and fully present at all time.  Even when I’m asking him who I am..again.  He’s there.  And he’s as present as the wind in my hair with my windows down on a warm summer evening.

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When my husband travels for work I dread the darkness of night.  I’ve gotten much better over the years since he’s been doing it for so long but every once and awhile I listen to that voice of fear and it can overwhelm me if I back off for one second.

I’m never as hopeful for the sunrise as I am around 3am when I’ve woken up with the babies and I can’t get back to sleep.  I cling to the promise of the sun.  The light forthcoming.  The end to the consuming and deafening darkness.  It’s a beautiful thing when I open my eyelids to see rays of glory filled sunshine bursting through my 1940’s cottage windows.  It feels like the rays are dripping with  gratitude.  As though all the earth is so thankful that the sun came out again, as well.  For a moment, I’m united with the earth in singing His glory.

To think that there are nights that are longer than others is a distinct parallel to our lives.  Sometimes the darkness feels like it’s going to overwhelm us.  And others we can just watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians to keep our mind off of being scared. (I’m just hypothesizing here.)

No matter the length of the night, the morning always comes.  Always.  It is not bound by time but rather by the parameters of planet motion and heaven’s willingness to explode the earth with His glorious goodness once more.  In the light.

Our Lord is good.  And lovely.  And He is sunshine that drips with fresh beauty.  And a warrior to push back the darkness once more so that all of the world might know His name.

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Everyone talks about it. Why do some people have it and others don’t? Is it a moving target? Does it look different in various seasons of life or does it always maintain the same characteristics? Why does it inspire us in some personalities and others make our stomachs turn? Why are there some people that wear it well and others nauseate us? How do we not become the latter? How can we, as believers, have a spirit of humility and still not look like a door mat? Is it possible to learn how to be sure of ourselves and even more confident in Christ’s work on the cross for us yet not be showy and performance based?

My goodness, do I hope so!

I’ll be honest with you…. I love to see a confident woman in action. Sadly, it’s about as common as a white Bengal tiger. Why? Why is that? As a Christ follower, we should have the confidence to take the industries (Proverbs 31:31), to work hard at our jobs, be diligent in our homes and bring good to our husbands (Proverbs 31:12). Yet we (read: I) sit at home and twiddle our thumbs and wonder when we will be good enough to actually do the thing we know he’s called us to do. Not what he’s called our best friend to do, but what he’s called US to do. And that thing is what he created us to do. And no one else can do it with the us-ness that we would do it. That’s why God asks us to complete it.

Knees bent, arms raised and heads lowered is where we find confidence. That’s where we find our center. Our calling. That’s where we come off the endangered species list and start to live so that we can thrive. Not just inch by. That’s what worms do. Believers should be the nicest, kindest, most honest people you’ve ever met and the only way to accomplish those things is hit the floor.

In finding our center through prayer and thanksgiving we also find ourselves. Our truest selves. The version of ourselves that is raw and unguarded before our mighty King that protects and serves us and is GOOD TO US. Those moments when our knees won’t seem to bend and our voices are hoarse from crying and searching other places is exactly the place we need to stop doing and start thanking.

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through Him we also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.”  Romans 5: 1-2

The grace in which we stand: Tall. Confident. Assured. Made complete. Lacking nothing.

WHOLE.

Love you so much friends,

LB

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Here are a few things we’ve been up to lately.  Happy weekend!

My big girl is getting so big–About to finish up 4-k and a birthday next week!

Muffins with Mom at Rowan’s school-such a sweet morning!

Field Day!

My monkey baby.Where in the world is Darby?

Don’t know what I’d do without my mom…..she’s amazing!

Philadelphia!

Le Pain Quotidien  (My favorite Belgian sugar waffle!)

Nashville in Concert!

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