a humble heart

I hear Glennon Melton preaching to me right now, resting my soul, and saying that we don’t write to sound lovely or to choose the right words. We write to feel braver.

Things that were humbling this week (in no particular order):

  • My car battery died.
  • I got a calcaneal stress fracture in my right foot.
  • I cancelled the half marathon (See above).
  • A friend’s car was stolen from in front of my house.
  • Valentines Day.
  • Received a lecture at work about my inexperience.
  • Did my very first sake bomb, and spilled it down the front of my shirt.
  • Warrior 3 in yoga class today.
  • My best friend in DC announced she’s moving to Nashville. In two weeks.
  • 5-8 Inches of projected snow tonight.

To any normal human, this may have felt like a rough 7 days. It did to me too. I’m a normal human.

But I also know this. Praise Jesus that my sweet mom renewed my Triple A membership just last week, praise Jesus that my foot already feels healed after 6 days in a boot, praise Jesus that I can defer that half marathon purchase, praise Jesus that my friend’s stolen car was found unharmed, praise Jesus for singleness and time to learn to love myself, praise Jesus for motivation to do better and be better every day at work, praise Jesus for time with friends around sushi and dry-cleanable clothes, praise Jesus for child’s pose in yoga class today, praise Jesus for risk-takers that teach me about being brave, and praise Jesus for snow days.

Those were the teaching moments that humbled me. To show me that we by our own ‘normal human’ works, we can never be righteous in God’s eyes.

These next few moments are the snow-filled hours in my oversized plaid pajama pants that I can step back from my prideful and controlling nature, and restore my wandering heart. Pray boldly for confidence in Him, that my faith could be as big as a mustard seed that moves mountains. To also ask for faith in myself, for understanding that the Lord equips my heart with absolutely everything that I need to know him.

Psalm 16:7 // I will praise the LORD who counsels me, even at night my heart instructs me.


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the art of being casual

Last week started with an Icy 2-hour delay, which meant waking up slow under heavy covers with black coffee, quiet music, and a devotional. I played mouse, silently listening as my roommates began to rustle, our sweet home swelling with warmth while the frosty Monday morning tried to fight it’s way in.

Lately, I’ve been praying boldly for very specific things, and the Lord has been completely showing up. In the spirit of that, on that chilly Monday morning, I asked for adventure and spontaneity in the coming week. So naturally, Jesus sent me skiing.

Let me preface this by saying I really envy casual people, people who can just pick up and go with their impulsive, fearless souls. And although I vowed to be one of those casual people in 2015, I couldn’t help the nerves about skiing for the first time in years. I channeled that nervousness into compulsive packing.  The perfect borrowed ski gear meant confidence and security as I carved down the mountain. For extra precaution, there was also that 10am shot of makers mark.

I stood on the top of the mountain Saturday morning and looked down at all of my choices. Green. Blue. Black. I glanced around at friends, turned up my music, and prayed. Once for God to fix our hot tub, twice that I didn’t look as large as I felt in 5 layers of clothing, and three times for fearlessness. I willed myself to be casual. And at first, I think I was. But then the whiskey wore off, my legs got tired, and I started to fall. A lot. So, I guess you could say ultimately I just learned a lot about humility.

This weekend there was healing conversation and fierce laughter as we abandoned thoughts of work and dug deeper into each other’s pasts and present. We chatted about man buns, love languages, and the Holy Spirit. I found rest in only 4 hours of sleep, and my heart was full.

Earlier this week I was learning that knowing God is trusting Him with my story. That Jesus wakes me up every morning with the promise of an unfailing light. I saw that light at two AM last night looking up into into the stars on top of Timberline Mountain, hundreds of tiny promises. Casual.

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There were gold balloons, glittering fashion statements, bold conversations, and boozy guests. Just a room full of strangers longing for connection, to feel included, admired, and safe. I had forgotten how much I loved champagne, it’s iridescence shimmering in my glass, the way the bubbles surprise your tongue with each sip, the taste of undeserved luxury.


We found ourselves swept away by the night, a flurry of playing hostess and harmless flirting, rebelling with puffs of a cigar, unabashedly dancing. Resolutions filled the air as they always do. A countdown to something magical began, impatience and hope lingering in between friendly exchanges. 3, 2, 1, twenty fifteen.

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In 2014 I learned that people are scared of raw honesty, and that maybe I’m not. In 2015, my resolutions are to travel, to run, to date, but most importantly to celebrate. A celebration of all things, big and small. Whether that’s best friends weddings, running a half marathon, remembering to take out our trashcans on Sunday night. We just have to keep telling ourselves that happiness is a choice, that we are worthy of that celebration. Hell, today we made it through another day in the north, so J, Lisa, and I went to Barrel for a $10 glass of wine.

I am undeserving, and thankful, and giving myself, and anyone around me, grace.


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holiday amnesia

I can’t remember. Life got so busy and I got so tired, and now I can’t remember what I did this week. It all blurs into one big bourbon cider, same conversations, tacky sweater holiday party. I’m sitting here in my bed, at 8:20 on a Sunday night, eating tortilla chips for dinner, again. Experiencing holiday amnesia.

Brains are funny that way. Mine remembers snippets, very small visual flashes that don’t connect or amount to anything. I remember Wednesday looking down at the fancy red wine in the crystal glass and feeling out of place. I remember Friday when I stumbled over my words and teared up during a conversation in Caroline’s kitchen. I remember today at the pageant when that little wiseman dropped his silver chalice and looked right up at me with tiny, sad eyes awaiting my reaction. It was loud, the whole church stared, but he was brave.

There are so many times, especially this week, especially today, when I caught myself not being Hannah. Who is that red-headed stepchild monster that spills out of me at social gatherings when I’m afraid. And why am I afraid.

This weekend was filled with time with kids, and I admitted to myself today that sometimes I only feel truly and wholly Hannah in those moments. I was talking to a friend about this in the car earlier, saying the only thing children actually desire is to be heard and to be loved. Which is completely true of my heart too. I feel no judgement, no expectation, I feel completely heard when I’m around kids. I feel easily trusted and loved simply for being my messy, silly, clumsy self.

I’m putting too much pressure on myself to be desirable, faithful, to be the best version of Hannah all the time. And I’m exhausted. So now I’m laying here in an imperfect very messy bedroom, eating an imperfect unhealthy tortilla chip dinner, looking at the broken moments of my life this week and wondering what next week’s holiday soiree’s have in store.

This is my completely unrelated fireplace. Isn't it beautiful?

This is my completely unrelated but beautiful fireplace.

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some days are long, but years are short.

today involved homemade blueberry lemon hand pies (recipe), wandering through the national gallery (exhibit), a sermon about hospitality, and a nightcap of laughter with day 7 of 406’s advent reading. I think i learned something new on this long day.

we must be our own before we can be another’s. and today i was my own.

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things inspiring things

Inspiration comes from every facet of my day, every small interaction or glaring piece of artistry. Lately, inspiration is taylor swift. I could listen to her album on repeat and never get tired of it, embarrassing to admit and extremely freeing. I am that person at the busy intersection, willing the windows to tint, but dancing. Yes, dancing. The seatbelt is a little restricting, but you learn to work around it. T Swift inspires me to be unafraid.


For HI Connect this year, our design team is taking inspiration from bourbon barrels, and the distillation process. The barrels are fired to create an uneven, flaking char on the inside of the wood before being filled with 53 gallons of liquid bad decisions. Finally, a reason why that bourbon sends a burning sensation from the tip of my tongue all the way down to my stomach every time I take a sip. I’m wincing just thinking about it. It’s funny how we don’t think twice about the dynamic process that goes into so much of what we are consuming day-to-day. Bourbon inspires me to slow down.


I’m inspired by a season of secrets. I love surprises more than anything, and gifts are my love language, so you can only imagine what joy this time of year brings for me. Reading into someone’s unknown desires, or thoughtfully remembering something they mentioned back in May. Giving someone the perfect gift, full of thoughtfulness and intention. Secrets inspire me to be intentional.

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anthem tee

I wanted to write about choosing joy today. But, since life is a roller coaster, the way I was feeling 20 minutes ago, isn’t the way I’m feeling now.

When I started this blog two years ago, its purpose was to land me a job. To show potential employers the ways in which design is sewn into my life. A creative perspective engrained, a natural instinct.

I think that purpose has changed with “life’s seasons”. Emulating much of my life, maybe this blog doesn’t even have a purpose right now. Maybe it’s just to walk life with you strangers that stumble upon this page. To share my small story.

inspired by the best tee ever made, Hello journey, Goodbye purpose.

And since i’m feeling bold, how bout these awesome pics J Ham captured on our journey home from Chinatown Wallgreens today.

anthem tee found here.

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