I stopped putting stock in perfection. Probably because I noticed the beauty in tattered edges and ink splatters, blurry pictures and scratchy voices.

Now I like the old cars that barely run and listening to quirky jokes. I like the toddler who runs around with one shoe and the mother who laughs at the chaos of it all. 

I will be the first to tell you about my imperfections. I’ll tell you about how much of a mess I make, how I regularly ruin the dinner recipe and say the wrong thing at the worst time. I’ll tell you about spilling my coffee on white shirts and getting lost in downtown. I’ll tell you that I can’t keep a plant alive any longer than I could a goldfish, but that doesn't stop me from trying. I’ll tell you about my heavy heart—how much I struggle with the weight of this broken world and the hope of heaven.

__

I once tried to organize my bookshelf by color but ended up hating the symmetry. I rearranged stories to make them look more like life. I have two holes in my favorite sweater and never bothered fixing them. People always comment on them like they’re doing me a favor, and I smirk and tell them it’s my holy sweater, like I’m a cheesy TV show host.

I don’t know. One day I just stopped tracing out the lines and started free-handing it all. I’m learning to be okay with having too many feelings and being too short to ever see the stage, because God teaches me so much through my weird and humble perspective.

I thought that people wanted me to act a certain way, and maybe sometimes they do, but it’s way more fun to show up in my own skin. To laugh at myself religiously and love the way the rain sounds. To add sarcastic comments into conversations and make a ridiculous number of Remember the Titans references. To sing along with the songs on the radio and mess up the words, but keep singing anyway, like I’m the opening act and the show must go on.

So I’m regularly missing my exit on the interstate because I’m lost in my thoughts and tripping on sidewalks because I’m looking at the sky. I’m settling into it anyway, though. It helps me see grace.

As a believer, I know I am supposed to think like a runner. I should be sprinting toward the finish line with every fiber of my being, yearning to glorify God and proclaim His name with every step. When I reach the finish line, I long to hear “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

But sometimes I don’t feel like a runner; I feel more like I’m on a carousel or on one of those metal spinning circles I used to ride as a kid (which hopefully are banned from all playgrounds by now). 

You know what I’m talking about? It looked something like this:

I would hold on FOR DEAR LIFE while someone spun me faster and faster until I felt like I was going to throw up or pass out, dizzy and giddy with the incredible speed. Going around and around in circles, I would feel my tiny hands start to lose grip on the railing and I would yell at my friend, “Stop spinning…I’m going to fall off!” So we would stop and regroup and then go again. 

And my life too often feels like one of these deadly, metal merry-go-rounds. I’m going in circles, heading nowhere in particular but I’m moving too fast to think about my direction. 

At first it’s fun, because I’m starting to gather speed. My schedule starts getting fuller and my mind starts to race a bit faster with to-do lists and deadlines and meetings. I love my job, after all, and I feel like I’m actually keeping up with the rest of the world. I buy into the lies that busier and bigger is always better. 

And then I start to get a bit nauseous because someone is spinning me too fast, and I feel my hands starting to slip and I eventually scream, “Stop the madness!” 

I can’t keep up with the busyness, the spinning, the speed. 

__

So I fall off and slow down, exhale deeply and plan intentionally. Life’s better at this slower pace, steadier and savory. I notice the way the sun hits the trees and listen more intently in conversations. I light every candle and take my time preparing meals. I pay more attention to God.

But I don’t stay in this slower place long enough. I don’t learn my lesson, and I get back on the merry-go-round because there’s too much to do and too little time and if I don’t regularly post on Instagram, I WILL NEVER HAVE ANOTHER CUSTOMER EVER. My business will go under and I will be the person I suspected I was all along: a failure. 

I buy into the lies that slower means lazy, that I’m not good enough if I’m not “too busy,” with a jam-packed schedule so full that I don’t have a spare moment.

I think a lot of us have grown tired of the hustle. The hustle has left us pulling our hair out and cursing at random strangers. The hustle is no friend of the thoughtful and wise. We are aching for smaller, simpler, slower. 

This year my life and business have a narrower and more intentional focus, and I think it's going to be a really good but hard transition. Of course, I'm still going to work hard and have busy days. I want to make money so I can be a good steward with it. I want to meet my deadlines and meet new clients; I want to connect with others in person and in this space, with words and prayers and pictures. 

But I also don’t want to be distracted from the most important things. Overall, I am striving for less frantic and more faith. I am determined to savor the little moments, to take long walks and invest my time wisely. I want to live purposefully and prayerfully. Because at the end of all of this, I want to be able to say “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). 

Soon enough, we will be standing before the throne in all of His glory. I want so badly to hear, "Well done, my good and faithful servant" and not “What were you doing spinning around and around in all of those circles?”

Let’s run to Him—stumbling and obedient and together. 

This year I decided to show up to life. I looked in the mirror and learned to love the reflection a little more. I stopped begging the world for affirmations that God has already given me. I chose joy and light more times than I can count. I laughed at all the funny parts. Sometimes I laughed at the sad parts, too. I stepped aside and allowed God to move mountains.  

This year I failed a lot. I watched a few bridges burn and didn’t do anything to stop them. I stood up ready to speak boldly, but the words came out in stutters. I ran in circles from grace and fell down when I grew tired from all of the running. I slammed on my brakes too many times, afraid to collide with truth.

But I kept showing up in all of my mess, realizing maybe that’s what bravery looks like. I sat in silence with my thoughts and shed layers of fears. I tried on my too-big dreams, which fit better than I remembered. 

This year I dug deep down in my soul, expecting to find a lone girl with broken bones.

Instead, I found an army. 

---

KEEP READING...

Here are the top 5 posts from 2016!

1. HEY, BRAVE ONE.

2. VOTE FOR _____.

3. INSECURITIES + JONAH

4. IGNORING THE WEEDS

5. HOW DO YOU ANSWER THE HARD QUESTIONS ABOUT GOD?

---

I look around at everything broken

And whisper, “I’m broken too.”

I look around at everyone shattered

And try to fix them with glue

I want to find the biggest bleeding hearts in the room

And go with them to pass out band-aids

I want to love people offensively,

Without pretense or pride

But I keep tripping over my own chaos

I keep trying to hide

Turns out band-aids can't cure cancer

Or heal battle wounds

All this time I’ve been waiting

I’ve been waiting to be set free

And along comes God,

Infinitely bigger and better than me

__

I hold out my hands,

Expecting to be punished,

Expecting to be hurt

But instead He offers His own hands,

Perfectly pierced, perfectly torn

Jesus looks at me and utters,

“Don’t worry. You are already reborn.”

I try to argue with Him

Because I don’t understand

Why would He offer me

Those perfect, holy hands?

I try to tell Him I’m not deserving

And this might be a waste

But He turns to me and beckons,

“Trust me. This is mercy. This is grace.”

-Alex Fly

---

---

I know Christmas isn't about the gifts, but I still find myself a tad panicky when trying to find the perfect something for friends and family every year, so I love a good gift guide. Here's a little list of fun and thoughtful gift ideas for your people!

FOR THE BOOKWORM 

None Like Him // Jen Wilkin

Uninvited // Lysa TerKeurst

The Broken Way // Ann Voskamp

Illustrated Classics by Rifle Paper Co.

FOR THE INSTAGRAM OBSESSED

Artifact Uprising Gift Card

FOR THE BEACH BUM

Ocean painting or print by Brynn W. Casey

FOR THE COFFEE ADDICT

Mug Warmer

FOR THE CHRISTMAS PARTY HOSTS

Christmas Icon Mug

FOR THE HARD TO BUY FOR...

Maker

Cook

Southerner

Mama

Teacher

Merry merry, the King is coming!

__

P.S. 2017 is right around the corner! If you read this post, you already know some things will be changing around here, and I can't wait to share a few exciting things that are in store for this business. As I continue to meet you in your inboxes and take on new clients, I will be taking down most of the current product offerings at the end of the month...so if you've been eyeing something over there, now is the time to grab it!

---

---

People are funny. We are all so quirky and unique, holding a thousand different stories in the palms of our hands. Sometimes we want others to ask us about these stories, and sometimes we don’t. We are full of passion and depression and fear and joy. We all carry a few scars, some of us more than others. We have freckles sprinkled over our noses and pain in our eyes; we hold onto hope like a lifeline from our sinking ships. Most of the time, we are wandering around just searching for the lighthouse that points the way back home. 

I will never stop being amazed by people—their stories and tendencies and the subtle making or avoiding of eye contact. I will never stop being amazed by humans and our ability to love and hate and hold hands, run and fall and get back up again. We are crazy and misunderstood and a misfit tribe of rebellion. We’re all a little mysterious, aren’t we? Even those who wear our hearts on our sleeves, like we’re slipping on a favorite shirt… we all keep changing eventually. 

__

The one thing that seems consistent, though, is that people keep surprising me, and I keep surprising people. We will constantly disappoint and hurt each other, stumbling through the everyday with our wounds wide open. Despite all of the good and love we pour out at times, we are imperfect and flawed and failing. There is only One who can satisfy our thirsty souls.

This truth doesn’t mean I don’t love people. Gosh, I love people. Sometimes my heart actually hurts because of how much I love people, each and every one of you brave, beautiful souls. But my one true hope does not rest on any of us.

I empathize with people, too, because I think all of us are trying to find God, even if we don’t realize it yet—that He’s the patch to the hole in our hearts we’ve been trying to fill. We try to fill up our hearts with sex and slander and booze, soulmates and sports and careers. But when we look to the world to fulfill what only God can, we will be hit with a wrecking ball of disappointment every single time. What we thought could make us whole left us with a more noticeable hole, and maybe what we've been searching for all along is holiness. Because these things and people of this world will keep us searching until we find that there is only One who remains enough to patch our broken hearts.

__

The love of Jesus is the only thing that can hold me up. The cross is the perfect and holy sacrifice that I so desperately need. I am shattered pieces of china that God keeps gluing back together. I am just a heap of bones that God chased after and breathed life into, tripping over myself and aching for glory.

I will keep failing you, and people will keep failing me, but He will remain faithful.

---

---