Buckle Up!

I wrote my last post on New Year's Eve. It helped settle my thoughts and refocus them on my Savior and Provider as I looked over the last disappointing year toward the possibility of more of the same. I published it, and promptly forgot about it as I went to sleep that night, relieved.

Once published, I quickly decided after two very disappointing attempts to find work in November and December that my time of searching for gainful, grown-up employment in the greater Atlanta area was done. The dead end job of a front office coordinator at a physical therapy practice I had applied for that went to a recent graduate with a Master's degree in Public Health was the final nail in the coffin of local job searches.

Photography business had tanked in recent years, and save for 2014's last gasp, we came to the crushing realization that it would not sustain us. We had to have another source of income.

The handwriting is on the wall. Something has to change. We can't keep doing the same thing and expect a different outcome. 

My gut was, shall we say, speaking quite loudly. So I did something different. I submitted an application and resume to a company in North Carolina.

I'll be honest, it felt scary and wonderfully adventurous all at once; feelings that used to be familiar but had long been dormant. And it made me grin.

I don't think either Leland or I expected anything to come of it, but I was holding onto a thread of hope because THIS company was exactly the type of business I wanted to be a part of. A company that wants to change the corporate culture in America? A company that values its employees and has a foundation for the express purpose of giving assistance to their own who find themselves in need? A company that gives to the community? That provides a physical space for charities that give to the community, allowing them to do their work more efficiently? A faith-based company that has experienced phenomenal, exponential growth since its beginning in 2007? What is this magical place, and can I sign up?

Movement Mortgage. A place I can work, feel a part of, contribute to, grow and develop in, and receive not just a paycheck, but a sense of purpose and meaning.

So, shocker, I got an email, then a phone screening, then a request for a face-to-face interview with Talent Acquisition for the next 6-week Mortgage Loan Processing training class, Movement University. Would I be interested?

Let me think about it. Right, just kidding. Leland and I jumped in the car, drove to Charlotte, spent a few lovely hours with family, got up the next morning and had my interview. We grabbed lunch with youngest daughter, Laurie, who also works for Movement (providentially), and were on the road back to Roswell.

I felt like I had been nominated for an Academy Award. Someone actually thought enough of what was on a piece of paper to give me a shot. I was beyond grateful, especially after so. much. rejection.

I spent the next 4 days replaying the interview in my head. (Please, my lovelies, do not ever do that.) After that exercise in futility, on February 23rd at 4:00, I got a call with an offer of employment.

I accepted. 

I'm holding the golden statue. The one that says I'm a child of the God of the amazing plan, inscribed with Trust me, I am for you.

Julie & Mike, the party people.

Fast forward a few days, and after my neighbor, Julie, called to ask about job news, she had organized a few of the closest neighbors for a quick happy hour/goodbye celebration in The Oak Room. At 4:00 yesterday, 3 of my neighbors showed up with snacks and drinks for what was supposed to be an hour--that turned into more like two and a half. Everyone gathered around to give us hugs and wish us the best. These people will be missed. 

l-r: Ivana, Igor, Mia, Julie, Mike, me, and Danka

Leland and I will pack up the car with all my necessities and head to Charlotte, this Friday. I will head straight for the office to meet with HR for new hire paperwork, then on to Laurie and Ross's house where I will be their grateful guest until Leland sells the house and joins me. 

Leland and I would very much appreciate prayers for the swift sale of our house. We hate being apart, but we know there is a plan and God's timing is perfect. 

Leland will keep his choice clients in Georgia, traveling as he needs to, while developing a new clientele in the greater Charlotte area. Please join us in praying for new business growth, as well as the best place for us to land in terms of new housing (it looks like the Fort Mill, SC area right now).

The pages of the Holder's Book of 2016 will not be blank from here on out. It won't be easy, but what is? Our only certainty is the steadfastness of God, because He is love and He never changes. 

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. --James 1:17

Bye, Mia!

Surprise #3: Grace

On Monday of this week, my phone rang and a number showed up on the caller ID that I didn't recognize, which always makes me nervous given our history.

Hello?, I said, quietly and cautiously.

The pleasant voice at the other end announced herself as Lisa, the assistant to the Stewardship Director at our church, Fellowship Bible Church. She said she was calling to follow up on our previous conversation.

A little back story here: I had called several months ago asking if the church had any recently donated cars that they might consider letting me have. I had applied for a job about 20 miles north of home and I knew transportation was an issue since public transportation does not extend that far and the fact that Leland's photography bookings took priority over any job I might have. Since our bankruptcy, obtaining a car was problematic, and I had zero dollars for a downpayment. Lisa told me that they hadn't received any donations lately, but she would keep me in mind if one came up. I thanked her, and that was the end of the story.

So I thought.

Back to the phone call, slightly embarrassed, I asked her to refresh my memory, which resembles something like Swiss cheese of late. She reminded me of the car request and said she was curious as to how it worked out.

Letting a little laugh escape, I told her that her call was timely, and very considerate. I launched into the sad story of how my "great job" had turned into the biggest nightmare in recent months. I couldn't help the tears that flowed, and the shaky voice.

When I told her the part of how I was told to leave my job, she gasped a little, then suggested taking advantage of the counseling services the church offers. Having logged many hours pre- and post-divorce sitting in a counselor's office, and knowing in my heart where my help comes from (it comes from the Lord, as the Pslamist said), I told her I would consider it, but I wasn't really interested in just sitting and talking. I wanted to DO something--like WORK--so we could continue eating and living indoors!

Lisa asked me if she could make an appointment for us with Kevin Cross, the Stewardship Director, and I agreed that Leland and I would come Wednesday at 3:00. I had heard Kevin speak at church and I knew a tiny bit of his story, but was anxious to meet him and get to talk to him face-to-face.

Wednesday, around noon, my phone rang with another number on caller ID that I didn't recognize. Since the sky hadn't fallen on me the last time, I wasn't nervous about answering this time. It was Kevin. He told me that he needed to leave unexpectedly on account of a family emergency, but wanted to speak with me first.

Lisa had already told him about our conversation. He offered that it sounded like we were having a rough time and he wanted to know what our financial situation was; what bills we were behind on, what we needed. I gave him the rundown, and told him our car needed about $1,000 worth of repairs.

What I heard Kevin say next took my breath away.

Here's what I'm gonna do. I want you to bring your mortgage statement, and other bills to Lisa at the church. I'm paying next month's mortgage and catching you up on healthcare coverage fees. I'm going to call Carl at Roswell Auto and tell him you're going to drop your car off. I'm going to pay for him to fix your car.

GASP, was all I could manage. More tears, more quaking voice, and a muffled thank you!  

At the appointed time we met Lisa and handed over our documents while Leland and I were spending a ton of mental and emotional energy trying to process what was happening to us. It felt surreal, to be honest. To that point, our lives were largely a string of disappointment, save for the grace of sweet respite in time with family, and joy when we had work on the calendar.

To our surprise, Kevin suddenly breezed around the corner. He's tall. He's full of energy, magnetic even, and met us with warm greetings. We talked for about an hour, during which I was taken aback by the vision he had for the 2 people sitting in front of him that he didn't really know, but instantly started forming a future story about.

I remember him saying something about dreaming, to which I replied, I don't dream anymore. I felt instantly sad to hear myself say it, having once been a big dreamer, but in my heart I knew my dreams were selfish; dreams of personal achievements, a better house, replacing our old car, and my favorite dream--my horse farm and a pasture full of horses.

The death of dreams can be very painful, but even though I have been very sad, deep down I have hope that the loss will be redeemed by God, replacing the dreams I've surrendered with HIS dreams for me. Way better, I suspect.

The short time we spent with Kevin was such an encouragement, I can't even begin to communicate it. As we said our goodbyes, Kevin blurted out, Oh, I almost forgot! He ran to his desk and handed me a $100 VISA gift card, on which he had written, "Enjoy your trip!" This will get you to Charlotte for Christmas, he said. Another hug, another thank you. I think I had run out of tears.

We left him to prepare for his flight to see family, with 3 books he handed to us, hearts with hope instead of despair, renewed faith in God and His timing and ways of working in our lives, and still with that surreal feeling of, Is this actually happening?

I devoured one of the new books, Kevin's own story, Embezzlement--A True Crime Story. I can't recommend it enough. It was crime drama and suspense, a story of brokenness and renewal, a life transformed, and many examples of what living and leveraging our money for God's glory looks like. I was stunned when I closed it. I will never look at money the same way again.

As I finished the book, Leland got a call from the mechanic's shop, saying the car was ready for pick-up (a relief, since it had been there 2 days and we were hoping to depart on time for Charlotte). Without hesitation, Leland was out the door, fleece hat snugly over his South Florida-born head, for the walk to Roswell Auto.

As simple as thank-you sounds, it comes from a heart overflowing with gratitude to Kevin, Lisa, and the church at FBC Roswell. We are grateful for your giving hearts, and for that, I am hoping this little blog will bring glory to God in the telling of the story. God bless you!

What Now?

I've heard it said that when the student is ready, the teacher will come. 

Ready or not....

However humbling I thought our drastic change in lifestyle was in 2012, 2013 held new levels of humble yet to be experienced.

The summer proved to be the best months the business had seen in a long time; most welcome after our court experience. We were busy with work and visits with family, excitedly welcoming our granddaughter, Claire, to the family in June. We were grateful to God for His awesome blessings on our lives, and for breathing room. 

Then came fall and winter, and we fell into a business slump that the summer's abundance couldn't carry us through. The 2014 New Year was not beginning as we had hoped, introducing a deeper level of humble. Our roller coaster lives had beaten us to a pulp.

All these months have turned into years of trying to work out how to be content with what we have, of reading Paul's words in Philippians 4:12, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want,"  and just not grasping it.

And James, who said to do what? Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (James 1:2-4). Really not grasping it.

What is abundant life if it isn't health and wealth and prosperity? It surely doesn't mean being in a state of hunger or want or infirmity. I'm really not ok with that.

Question after question asked, psalm after psalm read, I identified with David and was as determined as he was to, despite my lack of understanding and answers, trust God and not walk away from Him. I had to be in this place of being completely emptied of my self; of all the chasing after happiness and self-realization while blind to the fact that my happiness had been dependent on things I could lose. Having lost my car, work, money, and independence in a short period of time, I had fallen right into a very deep pit that looked familiar to where I was following my divorce in 2004, but deeper. Didn't think that was possible, but there I was. 

Nowhere to go, nothing to do, in pain (in more ways than one), feeling isolated, Leland and I alternately clung to each other and hurt each other out of our desperation, confusion, and exhaustion, or we attempted to protect one another by not speaking at all. What else to do but search? I so wanted answers to my questions, and I wanted even more to hear from God Himself. 

Lord, I'm empty, ready and willing to be filled. Please, show me what I need to know.

The answer came in the form of 2 incredible books; the first, One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. If you haven't read it, please do. It reads like poetry, and the author is refreshingly down-to-earth, honest, and transparent. She speaks to the reader from the humble place of her own personal struggle with pain and loss, witnessing the death of her baby sister, and from her real and messy life as a farmer's wife and home-schooling mother of 6 kids--not the perfectly coiffed, made-up, and designer label-adorned TV personality who speaks from the comfort of her gated, multimillion dollar home. She leads readers to the place of rest and comfort through what she calls a "joy dare." It's the challenge to write 1,000 gifts we see every day but would ordinarily overlook, and in the midst of pain. That's why this thanks offering is called a sacrifice of praise (Hebrews 13:15). It can seem so mechanical when tears are welling in your eyes, but seeing God in the ordinary and being grateful really is transforming. The book was such a treasure I bought the devotional.

The second book is Desperate Hope, by Candi Pearson-Shelton.This is Candi's story of her and her friends' and family's journey through the illness and passing of her much-loved brother, Rick, in 2005. Rick was 22, a worship leader, Christ-follower, and engaged to be married when he was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. The book wrecked me for so many reasons, and all for the good. This story, all by itself, should be read by everyone tempted by those false teachers on radio and TV who are making millions by duping people with their lies, claiming God wants everyone to be healed (until they're not, then it's Satan's doing) and financially prosperous, and you will see that God absolutely has a purpose in pain and answers prayer through suffering. Everyone who knew Rick knows how beautifully God answered his fondest prayer, and what a win-win the story is. Read it. And don't ever doubt this truth: God is Sovereign and He is in control.

So many great resources have crossed my path--yea for the internet! Every time, the message points to everything counter-intuitive or counter-culture. No surprise, since that is exactly like Jesus. But how to sort out what I've been hearing in any sort of orderly fashion? That will be my goal for the next post, as well as to let you in on opportunities we've had to move forward in our walk with Jesus. 

Back To Reality

The beach is so much nicer than Atlanta. Way nicer. Since being home from our Destin vacation, reality and the contrast of life at home and life on the beach--and in my dreams--has really struck me.

The week at the beach was paradise, but if I lived at the beach I would probably dream of a farmhouse, crisp fall days, brightly colored leaves, and a roaring fire in the fireplace, as I looked out the window on my pasture full of contented horses.

Humans are predictable creatures. Whatever is our every day experience, we always want what is not. We usually walk around not really seeing the pros of our every day life, while a short film of our "ideal" plays in our heads.

I don't think I will ever stop dreaming of my horse farm. It's my fondest dream. But while I'm day dreaming I often forget to be grateful for what is, right now.

The dream is so big. 

The bank account is so small.

I understand that contrast is part and parcel of life; without it we would never dream; never desire better. It's true in the physical as well as the spiritual. I am not the person I wish to be, yet, so I desire to be better. I have not realized my dream of a horse farm, yet, but I keep my favorite dream close, and say to myself, Wouldn't it be nice............ 

My dreams, as well as my desire to become a stronger spirit, temper the contrast of the present, as does the most important element: gratitude.

Being with my family for an entire week filled me with so much gratitude to God for the wonderful people I have in my life, coming home to all that is the mess of our lives was suddenly different.

The mess has literally lost its power. 

Gratitude, and the sense of wealth I have in people and relationships, not things, has been a welcome respite.

I am rich.

I like this reality.

My Mentor

Have you ever had a person in your life that was your "go-to" for information and advice--someone who supported you and guided you on your path?

A mentor. 

I have never enjoyed the privilege of a spiritual mentor, but I was fortunate to have one in my journey into my modeling career. This unique individual was my fashion photographer, Michael Wray.

I can easily say that he was the most interesting, complicated, and probably the strangest person I have ever known. He was an amazingly creative and talented photographer. You will never see his best work, because he kept it safely guarded. I counted myself highly privileged that he showed it to me.

When I walked into my first photo modeling class with Michael, I had no idea what was ahead of me. When he picked up his camera and we headed out of the studio to the top level of the parking garage, I was at a loss to understand what could possibly be the point of shooting anything up there.

I had a lot to learn. Case in point:

Photo Credit: ©2007 Michael Wray

  Michael's vision for me on the top of the parking deck--the power business shot

Make me want to click the shutter, he would say. And if I didn't, he wouldn't, and he would walk right on by. Ouch.

I loved his class. He made me uncomfortable. He pushed me. And we became close friends.

Photo Credit: ©2007 Leland Holder

 

If not for Michael Wray, I never would have gone to Miami. He challenged me, I listened, I acted. He made me. As a result, I had experiences I wouldn't trade for anything.

He didn't just push me out of the studio nest, he told me to call him with every detail of my agency encounters in Miami, every casting call, every callback, every booking. He would call to make sure I was okay if we hadn't spoken in a while.

I owed him.

After I returned from Miami in 2009, for reasons unknown to me, Michael had chosen to put our friendship on the back burner. No matter how often I called and left a voice message or emailed him, he chose not to respond; even to the news of my marriage to Leland.

A year went by. I wondered if any of our mutual friends had heard from him. I was hurt and confused. Then, I wondered if he was okay.

Suddenly, one day, my phone rang and Michael's number and name showed up on the screen. Shocked, I answered the phone. He asked me to join him for dinner at one of our hangouts on Highland Ave. I was so happy to hear from him, I said I would meet him outside the studio in the parking garage and we would drive to the restaurant together.

At the appointed day and time, I parked my car, got out, and as I moved toward his car, he got out and stood up. What I saw terrified me. My round faced friend was thin, gaunt, and scary looking. I hugged his bony frame, looked him in the eyes and asked, Are you alright?

Suddenly, all those questions about why he ignored me for a year didn't matter anymore.

My friend and mentor was dying.

On this day one year ago, after 2 weeks of hospice visits, watching him fade and miraculously come back for a while, I sat beside his bed, my hand on his chest, while he took his last breath.

I remember Michael and I having so many conversations about life, and inevitably, we would laugh and say, Can we go home now?

He's home.

Thank you, Michael. For everything.