What’s Saving My Life :: Winter 2019

February 1, 2019 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

People told me this would happen as I approach 40 (2019 is my last year in my thirties). They told me I would begin to realize so much better who I am, who I want to be, and who I’ve let the world make me.

I’m not sure I’m so happy with the last one. I’m a people pleaser and I overanalyze every one and every response–which actually is an incredibly unhealthy way to live. I may have a gift of empathy–and it may make me a better writer–but the junk of others doesn’t have to determine ME.

So this year is an experiment of sorts. A last year in my thirties and a time of personal reflection. I’ll drop some of those thoughts here, in this blog I’ve neglected since my debut novel released. Some will go to my insiders–those people who subscribe to my newsletter and let me tell them some things in their inboxes. Some will trickle into my Instagram and Facebook feeds, and I’d love to hear from you.

What’s saving your life–right now in the middle of winter and one month into a new year?

My list is simple and I’m linking up with my favorite Modern Mrs. Darcy who takes this practice cue from fellow writer Barbara Brown Taylor (who incidentally lives near me but I’ve never seen her at the grocery store).

What’s Saving My Life …

Hiking My mama is an avid hiker and sometimes I tag along. Even when it’s cold, but only because she promises me baked goods and coffee when I’m done.
Yoga For the first time since my wreck, my back doesn’t hurt. I’m no expert, but I like the Quick Yoga workouts I find on Amazon Prime. Doesn’t hurt the instructor’s name is Lindsay.
Hot tea I’m partial to anything citrus flavored, especially a lemon-ginger at night because lately, my tummy needs some settling on a way too regular basis.
My Bullet Journal I write everything in this little book. And I use these pretty pens. What I love about the BuJo is there’s no right or wrong way to do it. Setting it up can be overwhelming if you do all. the. research. Or you can be lazy like me and avoid all they hype and use what works for you. I do make a weekly spread and I try to keep up with my table of contents so I can find everything quickly. I also color code my months, which helps. For me the best thing is that everything I need is in one place.
Internet hangout sessions While I’m making the effort to hang out with my IRL friends who can meet for coffee, I’m incredibly grateful for the hangout sessions I have via the Internet with my writer friends. These are the people who don’t let me add in plot twists just because, who call me out when I use way too many adjectives, and who help me keep this publishing journey in perspective. We live in 3 different states, so being able to “see” each other is wonderful.
Fuzzy blankets Polar vortex came through. Enough said.
Burning the gas fireplace without the logs. Our logs apparently weren’t suited for our fireplace and caused a soot problem. So take them out suggested the lady at the propane company. Guess what? Gas fireplaces don’t necessarily need logs to work. They’re aesthetic not necessity.
Soup Next week I’ll offer up one of my favorite weird soup recipes, but I believe soup is a winter staple.
Bible reading plan I’ve never read the Bible all the way through. Beginning to End. So my husband and I are doing it together. Right now we’re having interesting convos centered around Leviticus. Who knew there were SO. MANY. RULES? Hallelujah, grace. (Our plan is simple and listed in the back of our NIV devotional Bibles, but I’m reading my NKJV study version.)
Book Tracking Y’all know I like to read, but I’m terrible at follow through. My Goodreads is only updated sporadically and it syncs to my Kindle app and thinks I’m reading things I’m really not because I hate to read on my phone. So this year I’m going to try tracking them by month in my bullet journal. So far I’ve read five books this year. I talk about them a lot on Instagram.

Your turn! You can find me on the socials or leave a comment or a send an email or ignore this and go back to work 🙂

P.S. This post contains affiliate links.

Lessons Learned from Red Shoes

November 8, 2017November 7, 2017 Lindsey P. Brackett2 Comments

My friend Kim (aka The Well Dressed Writer) loves red shoes. She says they’re sassy and classy and can elevate an outfit from boring to brilliant.

She’s right.

I like comfortable shoes. Clogs. Crocs. Converse. These go-with-everything clearance finds that slip on easy when I’m headed out the door for the elementary school drop-off.

Y’all. I’m all about the easy.

But sometimes, sometimes, it’s good to be all about the brilliant. Good to find a new place to connect–even if it’s over something as simple as shoes. When I wore these fun (but so-not-me) plaid heels of Kim’s at the Ohio Christian Writers Conference last weekend, they sparked conversations and broke down barriers.

One pair of sassy red shoes. All it took. Because suddenly, I wasn’t just a writer talking about her book. I was a writer wearing cute shoes and others–even the men–made commenting on my shoes a thing.

And I made it through the whole day in the highest heels I’ve ever worn. I’m not going to lie. My feet hurt at the end of it. But isn’t that the way of life? Don’t we sometimes let ourselves hurt and sacrifice just a little so we can pour into others?

Obviously this is about more than red shoes.

I can get pretty obstinate at times about wanting to do things MY way. MY plan. MY goal. MY expectation. But sometimes, when I let myself be given a piece of advice and then I take it (i.e. these shoes will look better), I find myself experiencing a whole new world. One where I can suddenly connect with a woman I wouldn’t have known how to approach. One where I can praise my friend for her fancy and frugal eye. One where I can wear a pair of shoes that caused me fear–what if I trip? What if everyone can tell I don’t usually dress this way?

What if everyone still sees me as just that mom scribbling words in her yoga pants and praying they get read?

Or… what if I wear these shoes and I feel smart and confident and well-dressed? What if all that spills over and out as I talk about my book and my writing journey and motherhood and the chaos of everyday life that makes a non-ordinary day with it’s non-ordinary shoes so very, very special.

Get yourself some red shoes, friend. Or your equivalent. Do something outside your norm and embrace the doors that open, welcoming you inside.

Sweet shoe buddy. Apparently red plaid is a thing I didn’t know about.

reflections · writing

The One Question Undoing Us All

October 4, 2017October 4, 2017 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

How’s it going?

It’s asked so simply, so quickly, so this-is-what-I’m-supposed-to-say that almost always I respond with that ingrained response–Fine. All good. Can’t complain.

Pick your poison.

Because what if we all actually answered that question honestly–How’s it going?

It? Life? Finances? Motherhood? Job? State of the union? Facebook following?

There’s too much, maybe. Really. Too much to say and too little to say about it and too balanced on the edge of a precipice we’re afraid to dive down into deep.

So we’re fine.

Except we’re not.

We’ve got Puerto Rico and Houston and Florida and North Georgia and Vegas and Oregon and California–all drowning or burning or scavenging or sweating or bleeding. None of us are really fine.

Yet I worry over Amazon stats and retweets and Facebook followers.

What if we all answered honestly, truly? I told people to stop asking me how it was going last week because I didn’t know what to say. They want me to say it’s great–I wrote a book and the world is all sunshine and dreams realized.

But it’s not.

Because there’s still bills and math tests and soured laundry and sad people and lost friends and too many expectations I’ve heaped upon myself before I can answer, Fine.

But none of us, if we’re honest, really have time for all the burdens of everyone else every time we ask. All the burdens we’re carrying ourselves are more than we can already handle.

So how do we get there? To the other side? To the place of asking and receiving and listening and loving? Because I don’t want a national disaster to continuously shake me out of my stupor.

Except it always, always does. Anytime we blink and realize the world is bigger than us, our problems, our pettiness, our little worries, we let those small things go just a little bit more. And we free up our hands and hearts to hold and hear when someone else needs to be able to say–

It’s not going great. But if you’ll fold hands with me, maybe I’ll be able to breathe a little easier.

Breathe easier today, friends. You can tell me how it’s really going in the comments, if you’d like.

Available on Amazon or by request at your favorite indie bookstore. Local friends can find signed copies at Books with A, Peal in Cornelia or Home Sweet Home in Elberton.

reflections · school

Dear First Time Teacher {who wants to change the world}

August 4, 2017August 3, 2017 Lindsey P. Brackett1 Comment

Dear First Time Teacher,

I know you’re excited. I know you’ve spent days (maybe weeks) assembling bulletin boards and organizing shelves and color coding plans and reciting your “welcome to my class!” speech while driving across town to chase the best office supplies sales.

I know you think you’re prepared to change the world one first grader or eighth grader or graduate at a time. You are and you will. It just won’t be the way you think.

Your first year teaching will be both the hardest and easiest of your career. The easy comes because it’s the year everyone around you nods in understanding when you say, “It’s my first year.”

Except the parents.

Parents don’t care if you’ve been teaching one year or thirty years, they want the best experience possible for their child because, like you, they’ll never get a do-over on this year.

Remember that when you think they’re your friends. They’re not; they are your employer and deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. You, likewise, should expect the same from them because in a conference you are there as the professional.

So be professional and understand, you can be a great teacher and still, not everyone is going to like you.

But sometime later, when this year is over, and you establish a relationship that’s not founded on homework assignments or detention, some of those parents will become your friends and your greatest champions.

The scariest moment is going to come when you close the door to your classroom for the first time and realize you’re alone with close to 30 students who are waiting for you to make the first move. They’ll size you up that first day and study you more that first week, and then they’ll decide how they’ll treat you. And their decision will always be most impacted by the way you treat them.

It’s your classroom, your routine, your heart that will give those lesson plans in that thick binder plenty of life, and before long, those students will be your kids. You’ll love them more than you ever thought you could love someone else’s child. Of course, there will be plenty you’ll wish you could send next door to someone else, but when your colleagues see them in the halls and the cafeteria and they gym, they’ll be yours. You’ll be responsible for them the whole time they’re on that campus, and there will be a precious few for whom the burden of responsibility will transcend an 8-hour day.

People will judge you by them. This isn’t some new outcome of years spent with NCLB, it’s how it’s always been. You may not be able to control whether someone fed them dinner last night or if they got up alone in the dark to catch a bus just so they could get breakfast, but you can control your classroom. You can make it a safe place and you can make it, first and foremost, a sanctuary for learning.

I promise you can.

You just have to remember that you can’t save them all.

You are one person in a long line of educators and counselors and coaches and administrators, so sometimes all you can do is pray that someone else succeeds when you feel like you’re failing.

That’s okay. You don’t have to be everything to everybody.

Chances are, when you’re a teacher, you’re everything to at least one.

Have a wonderful first year. Learn from your mistakes (you’re going to make them). Make new friends with those in the trenches with you. Build a community. Cling to grace.

You are a teacher.

faith · reflections · writing

What’s the Presence You Really Want?

May 30, 2017May 30, 2017 Lindsey P. Brackett5 Comments

Last week the heavens cracked open and poured rain all over the blue-tinged mountains we call Appalachia. So much that when I returned home from my writers conference in Asheville, the local paper’s headline bemoaned how we’d gone from not enough rain to way too much.

Trees down. Roads flooded. A general soggy mess. And a couple days of sunshine not near enough to dry things out.

By the time I came home from BRMCWC, that’s pretty much how I felt too. A little soggy and a lot poured out–not quite like that Luke verse I love that promises a good measure. More like when my kids spill a glass of sweet tea and there’s a sticky mess.

All my new writer friends (and wow, are these people talented and creative and fresh voiced) came home and got to work. More Facebook pages and new blogs and book proposals have been created in the last three days then I can even begin to follow.

I came home and crashed.

I had to read Pepper Basham’s new book, y’all. It’s part of my job after all. You should read it too. Especially if you need a nice break and a does of good romance.

Then that little ugly green streak quivered its way up my arm, heading straight for my heart. What if she gets an agent and I don’t? What if her book’s a bestseller and mine’s not? What if her blog goes viral and mine stays sleepy?

Yeah, even those of us who have “made it” get those niggling pains of fear disguised as jealousy.

Because that’s really what it is. Fear. Fear of never being good enough. Fear of never giving back enough. Fear of God not taking my offering and finding it as worthy as hers or his.

In my last few days, I finally swiped open my friend Matthew’s new book. He’s a Blue Ridge friend, of course. Last year, gala awards, same table. A Presbyterian pastor from Canada and a Southern Baptist girl from Georgia and we connected over the one thing that matters most–awe at what God is doing.

In Let God Be Present, Matthew writes, “Moses needed more than the promise of God’s presence. He needed to see it, and see it now. He was at the point of really wanting it. He wanted it because he was the one who had to lead the people. He wanted it for his people because he knew they would be the ones who would have to try and live out the holy life of work and rest in God’s name, for others to see and be drawn to the most beautiful, wonderful, awe-filled relastionship there is. They would need to live this God-filled life.”

Matthew goes on to ask in challenge, “He wants the presence of God. Do we?”

Do I?

Because if I am truly surrendered to the Adonai of all, then my desire–before I ever open this laptop to tap out words or bend the spine of my journal to scratch them–will be for God’s presence.

Dear friends, if what you’re doing right now doesn’t invite God’s presence, may I encourage you to take some time and rest? Slow the busyness and invite God into your everyday ordinary. You might be surprised how He calls you out from there.

Did you know my debut novel, Still Waters, is available for pre-order on Amazon? I know, I still get all the grins. It’s in the cover design process with my publisher, but don’t judge a book by that–right? And if you want more info on how you can spread the word follow me on Facebook as Lindsey P. Brackett, Author.