Sisters Sleepover

Since they were old enough to ask, they've been begging for sleepovers together.  On weekends we agree. On school nights, not so much. But the other night, we let them have a sleepover together on a school night. And it was pure magic.

They plotted all afternoon.  They drug blankets up. Games came out of the closet and went up the stairs. Art supplies took over the upstairs living room. The disco light came down for the pre-party in the living room.  Snacks were snuck up to the bedroom. 

Oh how they giggled and laughed. It was the kind of night that makes fills a heart with happiness.  Sisters making memories. Sisters becoming best friends. 

It was only supposed to be one night, but they asked again the next day.  We gave a reluctant yes (with the admonishment that bedtime had to happen or they would go to their own rooms), again they were so excited. It's now happened every night for a week. Complete with a dance party every night except one. 

I'm not sure how many more nights they'll want to do it, but I don't think I'll tell them no as long as they're asking.  I won't say no because when I snuck this picture, it captured the joy of them being together.

I won't say no because nights like these they are becoming what I have always prayed for, best friends. They're becoming secret keepers, joke tellers, dream seekers, and each others biggest fans.  That bond is worth the room that looks like a tornado hit it. 

Some rules are made to be broken even on school nights.  Sometimes those broken rules lead to sisters learning that sisters really do make the best friends and to me, that's worth me breaking my own rules. 

I Love You Too (12/28/21)

I can't say "I love you" enough to the people in this house. I doubt they'll ever know just how much I love them. But they hear it so much and know it's so true that when they write me love notes, they put my response on them too.

"Why did you write that part?"

"Because, that's what you always tell us."

And I'll never stop; because I hope after I'm long gone, those words will echo in their hearts forever.

Mom's Christmas Memories (12/19/21)

I visited my mom this weekend. Though all of her kids are grown and out, her house still looks like a Winter Wonderland (that's just one room in her house in the picture below), just like I remember it as a kid. It's a different house and different decorations, but it transcends time, it's magical.

When I was little Christmas always felt magical. It looked like a dream and the aura of magic hung in the air with anticipation. When I walk in to my mother's house, it takes me back. I remember the excitement. I remember the anticipation. I remember all the feelings from way back when. I remember certain decorations that though many are long gone or have been handed down to us kids, created that atmosphere.

Now as a mom, I get it. My girls squeal with excitement when the tree gets drug up the stairs. They wait with anticipation as the ornaments and other decorations are carefully placed. The advent box holds treasures of the days to come and they await it's opening each day with giddiness.

The magic is ours to create. I don't have the decorating skills of my mother. I'm not near as crafty. I don't bake like her or my grandmothers, but to my kids, what we do is joyful. It connects with them and each year they look forward to pulling out the old memories and making new ones.

Each year we make magic. It's a gift that passes on. And one day, though not near as elaborate as my mother's, I hope they walk in and feel like they're going back in time to the Winter Wonderland of their youth.

The Christmas magic lives on in each of us!

Be the Change (11/28/21)

Dear Church,

I know times have changed. Things aren't as simple as they used to be. Right and wrong, believer and non-believer, it was easy right? But now things aren't quite as clear, times have changed, things seem a little more muddled than they were years ago don't they?

I feel you. I'm a pretty black and white person myself, I've always struggled to find any gray area in almost all areas of life. But times are changing and we must change also. I'm not saying that we forgo our faith. That is the one thing that we should never waiver on: our faith in Jesus and His love. Yet I have to wonder, what does that mean?

I think we answer that by answering a few questions. There are some that are easy to answer and easy to follow through with, as they should be. There are some that will make us uncomfortable, make us squirm a little in our seats, and question who and what we as a body of believers are. I think that's where we find change. That's where we find love, understanding, compassion, and being the true hands and feet of Christ.

So let me ask you:

*If I'm sick or in an accident, is it easy for you to pray for me? Are you willing to jump in and bring meals for my family? Are you willing to give me rides to therapy? I hope those are easy yeses for you, they should be.

*If I lose my job and my car, are you willing to pray for me? Are you willing to drive me around to apply for jobs and maybe take me to my first few weeks until I get back on my feet? Again, I hope these are easily answered yes.

*If I'm homeless, will you see me or will you see a person that "needs to get a job and stop doing drugs?" How out of your comfort zone are you willing to go for the dirty person on the street corner? This one is a little harder, but most of us would be willing to at least hand a couple of bucks out the window, right? Are you squirming a bit? I mean what exactly are they going to do with that money? I don't want them to use my money for more drugs...

*If my dad's an alcoholic or my mother leaves us, how do you treat me? Do you whisper about "that poor kid, how could he/she do that to them"? Do you pray? Do you reach out to my mom or dad, even if it's "not my place?" Or do you reach out to me and let me know that you're here and genuinely show me that I can trust you to support me?

*If life throws me some curveballs and I lose my way and find comfort in a pill bottle, will you give up on me? Or will you walk alongside me as I try to overcome my addiction? If we're truly the body of Christ you won't abandon me when I've lost myself.

*If you learned that I had an abortion when I was a teen, would you think less of me? Oh, that one's tough right, because I killed someone. But if you truly want to be the hands and feet, you'll show me that there's hope, that I'm not a lost cause because of a choice I made. You'll help me find hope in the future instead of despair and judgement in the past.

*If I struggle with anxiety or depression, will you offer to help me and support me the same way you would if I had broken my leg? Or would you tell me to "suck it up, we've all got it rough?" It's a silent issue and one that is easily judged, but as the body of Christ shouldn't we be reaching out in the same way we would a physical illness? Come alongside me, show me I'm not alone, not forgotten, and have value in this life. If I've forgotten it for myself, remind me through your love.

*Now the one that's going to make you squirm more than just a little, if my child decided that he or she was homosexual, would you love them? Would you love me? Or would you judge them as a "sinner" and wonder where I had gone wrong as a parent? Tougher question right? Because I mean the Bible tells us it's wrong. But isn't lying, stealing, lust, the list goes on and on also sinning? And isn't all sin just that in God's eyes? Why is this one the one we as Christians chose to hang our hat on? Why is this the line we've decided to cross? Are they suddenly less human? Is their life suddenly less valuable? If you've loved them their whole life and found out today they had a different sexual orientation why would that change your feelings? As Christ's body, we should love them where they are. Just as we would the addict, the lost, the broken. We don't have to agree to love.

Friends, I say all of this in love. Honestly, God has grown me over the years and softened my heart to all of these things. Oh it's hard. It's hard when you've always believed one way, but acknowledging that we need to change shows growth in our faith. It's not accepting a sin, it's loving the person. It's not allowing hate to divide and win. And that my friends is where we've fallen short time and time again. We've failed to love others regardless of what or where they are, we've created our own hierarchy of sin that somehow ignores any that we ourselves may have.

If we want to see a change in the world, we must be the change in the world. And it starts here, with love, compassion, understanding, and meeting others where they are without judgment. We grow when we're uncomfortable. We show intelligence when we can admit we've been doing it wrong and change our ways. Let's admit our wrong and grow in our discomfort to grow God's kingdom for generations to come. Let's squirm into action.

Love,

Holly

Grace (10/16/21)

It's been a week. A rough, rough week. The kind of week that makes me question everything I'm doing as a parent. It's been hard. I've gotten madder than I've ever been. I've yelled, no screamed like I've never screamed. And I've cried, buckets and buckets of tears.

It's been hard.

It's been a week that I'm not proud of.

And to top it all off, my washing machine won't turn on. So I loaded up my dirty clothes and headed one town over to use my dad's. I called my grandma to see if I could use hers too (because let's face it, three regular sized washing machines are all gonna have to be working to accommodate our laundry).

You know what happened? Grace and a hug from above. None of which I deserve after how I've handled this not so great week.

Grandma told me to just leave my laundry in the hall because she wasn't home. She told me she'd love to do it and bring it back to me tomorrow to help me out.

My girls hugged me and reminded me how much they loved me even though I'd literally just lost my mind on them twenty minutes earlier.

Then because God knows how obtuse I can be, He thought he'd send me a few more signs. These sweet (most of the time) girls said "hey mom can you take our picture at Grandpa's house?" And when I looked at them, I remembered just how truly blessed I am by these beautiful girls.

As a last subtle hint to get myself together, I read something that asked if the devil really stole my joy or if I gave it to him. This week, I gave it to him. God reminded me to take it back. Because He is the giver of joy and only I can toss it away, it can't be stolen.

I sit here waiting for the washing machine to finish and I sit in awe at how good He is. How fortunate am I to live close enough to my Dad that I can use his washer. How blessed am I by a Grandma that offers to lighten my load. How honored I am to be the mother to these girls even when I don't come close to being perfect.

Tonight I'm refinding my joy because I been blessed beyond what I deserve.

I Love Mom (9/29/21)

Every evening I empty backpacks.

Every evening I catch a glimpse of their day.

And almost every evening, I find a note on an assignment that says "I love mom."

Almost every evening when I'm exhausted and feeling like I'm falling short in a million different ways, this little note brings me back.

It brings me back to remembering that I'm their person.

It reminds me that even when I'm not with them, they miss me and are thinking of me when they have a free second...much like I do them.

And when I feel like I'm not enough, that sweet little voice reminds me "you're my mommy and I want you to know I love you." Then I remember that even on my worst day, I'm what they need and that's enough.

Let's Talk About My Hair (9/14/21)

Can we talk about my hair? From one side it’s normal . . . the other, it’s best described as bold. Strange thing to talk about right? Yet it’s really not and here’s why: people judge me on it. 

I’m at a place in my life where whispers don’t bother me much. However, I’m also in a place that I have an image to uphold. As an elected official, sadly, you’re judged not always by how well you do your job but also by your appearance. I found a picture months ago of a haircut I LOVED, but it took me those months to convince myself to go for it. 

It’s a sad but real reality that I had to consider what the effects of my haircut would be on my job.

It made me realize I’m not alone in this—people are judged daily on their ability based on a physical appearance that has exactly zero impact on their ability to successfully do a particular job.  

Here’s the other thing it made me realize: I felt EMPOWERED. It was freeing to absolutely love the way I looked. It felt amazing knowing that it would inspire others to be bolder. I’m not a trendsetter and never set out to be, but I’m all for giving others something to rise upon. If seeing me break the norm of what society expects from someone in public life, I’m here for it.

People are gonna whisper. People are going to wonder if I’ve gone off the deep end (I haven’t, I just love continuing to embrace myself). People are going to think I’m somehow less capable of successfully running the office I’ve run for years based upon my hair. And while I’d love to say it’s all right, it’s really not.

It’s not because while I can shake it off and know with confidence I am exceedingly capable of succeeding, others can’t. Others are held down by the judgments that come from projected perceptions.

We can do better, and we should.

So let’s talk about my hair. Let’s talk about how amazing it is. Let’s talk about how it makes me feel good. Let’s talk about how my husband and kids love it (and me too). Let’s talk about how I’m still running a successful office. Let’s talk about projecting the fearlessness that something as simple as a haircut can provide. Let’s talk about positive image instead of negative.

Let’s talk about it, and let’s start with my hair.