Real Religion

February 21, 2017

 Photo credit: Ismael Burciaga

It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth day of feeling deathly ill that I decided to pray. Deathly ill is a bit exaggerated, but I was sick for over a week with strep throat. “They” say it hits adults harder than children, and I believe that now. Alone in my apartment trying not to get anyone infected, I prayed. And I prayed hard.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember the last time that I had prayed.

But I do remember the first time. I was an innocent eight year old girl, holding the Sunday School teacher’s hand as I “asked Jesus into my heart” – what the Baptists call being saved. Prayer became second nature to me and so did doing right.

Church and singing became my life. Every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night the doors opened, I was there along with my two sisters and faithful mother. Alone in my bedroom with my initialed Bible, I often prayed for my father who didn’t attend with us.

Over the short twenty-seven years of my life, my faith has evolved. It (faith) has always been a part of my life, not just a small part but a large part. Growing up in a Southern Baptist church, the issue of right and wrong was pounded heavily in my head. In high school, I attended a charismatic church and always was the lead star on the praise team. We were preached to about sin until our faces turned blue and slathered with oil at the altar when in time of prayer. They viewed prayer as powerful and life changing and so did I.

As a college student, I discovered a new found freedom, questioned my faith and rarely attended church. Along the way, God always pulled me into his arms whether through a friend or song heard on the radio. Often prayers were spoken in times of stress and guilt.

My eclectic background had me confused. My faith in God became more about appearance and doing right. How to overcome temptation and live in a real world was not something I had been equipped to do. But I knew the right words to say, the perfect flowery words to pray.

As the years have passed on, I have faced reality in more ways than one- through the loss of close loved ones, loss of jobs and the end of a marriage- my heart has been bumped, pushed, torn and broken and sometimes all at the same time.

Living for the Lord stopped being about what others expected of me. It stopped being about doing what others thought was right and stopped being about praying what the preacher taught me to pray.

Many times it feels like there is a label on my forehead that reads “failure.” I’m not the perfect example of Christian that I once claimed and others thought of me. I’ve made mistakes, big mistakes and often appeared as just another face in the crowd.

I’ve learned to pray differently — from a heart that knows I’m nothing without him. I’ve learned to pray without fancy words. I’m appreciative that I have a mother that made sure I was in church and a grandmother that prayed for me daily and often recited Psalm 23 as she drove me to daycare. I’m appreciative that I experienced eclectic styles of worship. But I have found what works for me.

I’m reminded of the song that I once sang as a child, “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so.” My faith is simple and so is my prayer life. I know who He is based on my own experiences. From that I pray. It may not be a pretty prayer- just me, raw and transparent.

Brittany Windle

Photography credit: Ismael Burciaga

Silencing the Noise

January 26, 2017

modernlace6th grade-  Oh, the beauty of body odor and Axe, discovering the opposite sex, and figuring out what true friendship is. I am thankful for my 30′s, being comfortable in my own skin, which took way too long, and above all not dealing with hormonal boys.

I actually can’t imagine being in 6th grade in the year 2017. Social media and text are simply a way of life for teenagers. A “like” on a photo means someone is interested in you and phone calls and talking face to face have been replaced with text (I’m guilty of texting more than calling). When I taught high schoolers, my students often discussed their social anxiety due to only being connected digitally. Thankfully, I grew up where text and social media were just on the cusp of popularity. Dating was still traditional, and phone calls were expected. Engagements were either announced through the newspaper or people found out when they saw the ring.

I like the authenticity of having moments like that. Privacy was valued – your dinner was not published on Instagram, and you didn’t create photo opportunities to make your life look… Well, perfect. Perfection is the new standard. And I’m exhausted just thinking about that.

What a noisy life this snowballs into- and all for what? To be “adored” by many? Why are we so comfortable with trading reality with the perception of reality? And why is there such a need to share every facet of our lives as if we didn’t post it, it never happened?

One of my friends sent me a screenshot of a girl who posted a picture of herself, and the caption read: “Finally, I got my name changed back. It only took three months, but finally it’s done.” Apparently, that meant she had gone through yet another divorce. I could’ve cared less. Actually, I don’t even know this girl, never have had a conversation. I know her business now. I know that that was husband #3. Because I’ve been through the mill myself, I had no judgment at all. Actually, I loved that she had absolutely no shame. But just like my friend judged and sent me the picture, I bet many people did as well. Most of the time we give the ammo for people to fire shots at us.

This had me thinking: How much noise, distraction, and judgment could we eliminate if we just logged out and valued privacy?

A student’s mom posted on Facebook recently, “Yes, I did withdraw my daughter from school. If you have a problem with it, then ask me and not her.” Half of her “friends” probably had not the slightest clue that her daughter withdrew, but now everyone did. What this creates is chaos, unneeded advice, opinions, discussion or even arguing. She was literally asking for people to create this for her.

My church was recently challenged to stay off all forms of social media for a week. I had already deleted my Instagram app because it’s a deep dark hole that I have a hard time seeing my way out of. I catch myself logging on out of boredom and then clicking from one picture and person to the next- filling my mind with a perception of their reality. While most of the things I came across were not negative at all, I realized that perfection on display is negative. Staged photo shoots and filtered images often left my mind foggy – not seeing clearly at all what the reality was. This creates noise in my mind.

I long for more simplicity. Heck, I’d go live on a farm somewhere in Iowa if the oppporutiny was given.

But for now I have to determine how I can clear my mind, what simplicity looks like for me. We all know a little too much about the lives of people we don’t even know. I’m not sure if this is healthy, at least for me it’s not.

Have you ever thought about logging out indefinitely?

Brittany Windle

I think I’m still on Twitter. You can find me there.

photo credit: 2b Photography, exclusively for Modern Lace.

Sweet Southern Roots

November 18, 2016

Luv Cooks

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Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies from the kitchen of Callie Blount of Luv Cooks – see recipe at bottom.

 

Growing up in the Deep South, I was surrounded by great food. It was and still is at the center of all family gatherings.  My sisters and I had the privilege of eating fresh vegetables from the garden almost every meal. We always ate buffet style: Squash, okra, green beans, and collards colorfully decorated the stove top. Of course, at least one of them was hand-battered and fried in my dad’s secret recipe. I never realized how special it was until I didn’t have it everyday. (Ahh, adulthood!) The thought of starting a garden is daunting.

However, I haven’t always valued the things that have signified my Southern roots. I’ll never forget the first time I was taunted for my accent. I tried desperately in college to change it. Around certain people, I would talk less and softer just to avoid being called out. I hated it. I’ve since then managed to pronounce certain words correctly, but my vowels are still slow and long and Southern as sweet tea. People point it out occasionally.

And then it was my small town I grew up in that I never wanted to admit I was from. I’ve always lived by the mantra, “Just because you’re from a small town doesn’t mean you’re small minded.” I didn’t want to be stereotyped by a classist. I’m intrigued by other cultures and consider myself to have a broad worldview. I used to cringe when someone asked the question, “Where are you from?”

My town is infamous for landmarks like The Booby Trap and the Carrie Lawson case where theorists claim her body was dumped in the depth of Smith Lake. Apparently, that’s where all bodies are cast, probably by the hitman that you can hire for just a case of beer. (Seriously, this is a known fact.) Most recently, we became famous when National Geographic aired a special about the “Sipsey Wilderness Creature.” The hour long docuseries is of a man recalling his experience with an animal that is as closely related to Big Foot as you could find. Walker County doesn’t exactly have the best reputation.

Luv Cooks

The Spicy Chocolate Sweetie- Pie from Laura Chancey of Humble Pie- scroll down for recipe.

But what I see when I think of my childhood is my cousin and I crafting mud pies and topping them off with wild flowers; playing hours outside until dark; leaping from hay bale to hay bale with my sisters; sneaking vanilla wafers from my great grandmother’s cookie jar; and my dad making us pick vegetables from the garden in the sweltering summer heat. (Have you ever “looked” peas? It’s pretty dreadful!)

Goodness, I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

My childhood home sits beautifully in a large field and the cows peacefully in the neighboring farm.

No, I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

I see that now, and I’m not so ashamed of my Southern drawl. I’m still going to say “y’all.” It’s a part of me, and, apparently, it’s not going anywhere no matter how hard I try. And as for my small town, I’m not sure I’d be who I am without it. I wouldn’t value simplicity or relish in the small things.

This Thanksgiving, I’m going to attempt to make my great aunt’s fried apple pies, not just because they are mouth watering good. But rather, because they symbolize tradition, love and hard work – treasures I want to preserve.

I’m thankful for my Southern roots. That may be the first time I’ve ever said that.

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In honor of Thanksgiving, tradition, and family, I thought I’d share with you two recipes from two sweet Southern women, Callie Blount of Luv Cooks and Laura Chancey from Humble Pie. They both formed their love for cooking at an early age while learning and watching their grandmothers in the kitchen.

For the Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies above, click here. See below for Laura’s Spicy Chocolate Sweetie-Pie.

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Chocolate Pie Dough

What You Will Need

- 1 cup all purpose flour
- 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa flour
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 tbsp sugar
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) cold butter
- 1/2 cup ice plus 1/2 cup water to make super cold ice water

What You Will Do

1. Whisk the first 4 ingredients together, then with a pastry knife cut the butter into the flour mix until it resembles small pebbles.
2. Add ice water a tablespoon at a time, using a wooden spoon to incorporate it in.
3. When the mixture starts to resemble dough, form a ball with your hands and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour (or if you’re impatient, like me, freeze for at least 30 minutes.)
Note: When you’re ready to begin making the pie, roll the dough out first, put it into the baking dish, poke the bottom with a fork about 10-15 times, and then stick the dish in the freezer until your filling is ready.

 

For full recipe and the story behind Laura and Humble Pie, click here.

Brittany Windle

Follow Your Voice of Wisdom

August 27, 2016

Alex Forrest

Little did I know I was living below “Alex Forest” from the infamous Fatal Attraction movie when I moved into my quaint, vintage apartment.

She, like most mean girls, appears first as the sweetest, kindest person who ever graced the planet. And she did so gracefully walk. She had perfect posture and seemed to always know proper etiquette, especially in conversation. Even when she held her cigarette it was like watching an old Hollywood starlet. Something about her was intriguing, a bit mysterious and often left me feeling uneasy. There was some sort of wall or façade I could not clearly decipher. All I knew was to keep her on my good side. I had a sneaking suspicion that if I ever crossed the line, there would be no return.

I rarely meet people like this, but when I do, I am reminded of that gnawing feeling of discomfort. She was intentionally intimidating. I’m even bold enough to say that she was a bully. She made me want to shrink and cower down. A little voice inside me told me to steer clear, but I often felt sorry for her, especially when I’d get a knock on my door. Standing there with a glass filled to the brim with white wine, she had tears in her eyes.

As a child and teen, I always listened to that little voice. You know the still, small voice that would tell you not to go out with that guy? Or that feeling that you’d get when you knew something didn’t seem right? That voice is what many call their conscience or their wisdom speaking.

Somewhere along the line, I stopped listening to that small voice of wisdom. It has become quieter every time I have allowed someone to cross a boundary or line with me.

I haven’t taken a personality test recently, but I think it’s safe to say that I am Type B. I am very laid back, and on top of this, I am the middle child of two sisters. We, middle children, tend to be peace makers. Over the years, I have struggled with saying “no” to invitations or obligations. I want others to be happy, and it’s difficult for me if I know they will be disappointed by my decline.

If you’re a people pleaser like myself then you can relate. Because of this desire to please others, I have allowed people to take advantage of me. I have often sacrificed my own well being for the sake of avoiding confrontation. Around an intimidating person, my voice has often been soft, almost non-existent. Out of fear of retaliation, I won’t speak up.

Some call me sweet and innocent. I still get the occasional description as being naive. And those with ill intentions will truly prey on this. As a result, a person like myself will get used. Dare I say the term abused? Cruel people exist and even the smartest of us can fall into a trap of deception.

I started meeting with a counselor recently for self growth and because I have been faced with a difficult decision. He said the most simple yet beautiful advice: Follow the voice of your own wisdom. He reminded me that when you get that weird gut feeling or when you feel uncomfortable by someone’s actions toward you that it is your wisdom speaking.

I still have that little voice, but unfortunately, by not following it, I have said no to myself. Saying yes to others has caused me to say no to my well being at times. I have put my emotional, mental, and sometimes physical health at risk.

“Boundaries are not for others but for yourself,” my counselor stated. “You set the boundaries. If they cross them, you walk away.” I have often thought I didn’t have that right. However, now that my mindset has been made whole, I am and will set boundaries. My well being is more important than simply making others happy.

For the whole story of my bully neighbor, read here. I was right about that feeling. I’ll listen to it better next time.

Article by Brittany Windle

Follow her on Twitter.

The Inspire Us Project: Kim

June 20, 2016

In February of this year, we introduced you to The Inspire Us Project. We have enjoyed reading the stories of women – stories of strength that have led them to a life of believing in themselves and feeling comfortable in their own skin.

We will be sharing a few of these stories as a source of inspiration. Stay tuned for our very own to be shared in this project as well.

Kim::

Inspire Us

The story behind my smile…

I guess you could say that my life started out as that of most little girls. Days were filled with lots of love, pretty dresses and dance classes. Quite the spoiled little thing, it still tickles me to hear the story of how my maternal grandparents once stood outside “spanking” the rain because the thunder had made me cry.

My parents divorced when I was really young. They had been childhood sweethearts who grew up as neighbors. Now that I’m grown myself, I think they simply weren’t mature enough for true “adulting” at the time. My mom remarried shortly thereafter, and so did my dad. It was my stepfathers suggestion that we needed to move. Unable to fully cope with my grandmothers untimely death, my mom went along with it. So off we went, along with my little sister, to live in Colorado. I’ve always been the intuitive type. So without reason and at the tender age of four, I can honestly say that I had never liked my stepfather. Upon moving across the country, I soon learned why.

For the first time in my life, I was exposed to alcoholism and abuse. As a little kid I wanted nothing more than to escape, but I couldn’t. Since I couldn’t physically escape, I would lose myself in books. From Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry, to The Chronicles of Narnia, I would get away to better places through reading. I guess that’s the one good thing from that time that I’ve never lost. We moved around a lot, but wherever we went the story never changed. It was a horribly ugly cycle that was stuck on repeat. Somewhere along the way we all moved back to Alabama. But that didn’t suit the manipulation of an abuser who thrived on isolation to carry out his domination. There were simply too many family and friends here, to not notice all of the battles and bruises on the mend.

There’s so much more to this story, it would take a book to truly tell. Fortunately, my sister and I were able to get away. It took a while longer, but my mom and now three more sisters would eventually follow. It takes a long time to truly be free from the chains of abuse, but I’m happy that the chains have finally been broken. Although there are still some residual difficulties at times, I choose happiness in spite of it all!

I choose to live in a way that shines the light of love in all that I am and all that I do. When you see my smile, know that it is broad and bright by choice. It is the freedom song of a sweet little girl who once didn’t have a voice.

For more stories, visit The Inspire Us Project website.

Shop Talk: Engaged

May 31, 2016

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Stephanie Whitacker, own of Engaged and publisher of Birmingham’s The Perfect Wedding Guide

Situated in the quaint neighborhood of Edgewood, Engaged welcomed me with its sea-foam green walls and light touches of cream and white. Just as welcoming and warm as the room, Stephanie and Katie greeted me energetically. This dynamic duo, down-to-earth and personable, are the types you’d want to have as your best girlfriends. I felt as if I had known them for years.

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engaged

Engaged is a Wedding Library. I wasn’t familiar with the term before but intrigued with what they do. With hundreds of sources at their fingertips, Stephanie and Katie make wedding planning stress free and fun.

Stephanie Whitaker, the owner of Engaged, first began in 2007 when she left the accounting world to become the publisher of Birmingham’s Perfect Wedding Guide. This guide provides brides with a list of vendors from photographers and venues to bridal shops and florals – all the necessary elements in making that special day perfect.

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engaged

Although the guide provides the premier wedding vendors in Birmingham, Stephanie took it one step further and opened Engaged which is a store front that offers one-on-one consultations for brides. The guide and consultations are free. What’s the catch? There isn’t one!

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Katie Calhan, bridal consultant of Engaged

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Katie Calhan is one of the consultants with seven years of experience. When meeting her, it’s evident that she loves what she does. “My job is to educate brides on price points and give them the why’s and how’s on what to do. Sometimes they don’t know that Aunt Sally shouldn’t do the flowers, ” she jokes. “We help build a team to make the wedding successful and stress free,” she continues.

Katie suggests that brides should come in with a vision, but if they don’t, not to worry: “They will leave with three things no matter what: 1. A plan 2. Feeling less stressed and 3. The knowledge of the best vendors in town.”

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Engaged and The Perfect Wedding Guide host two bridal shows a year. These shows provide inspiration for brides of any style.

There will be a launch party on April 7th at 6:00 pm for the spring book edition at Dorothy McDaniel’s Flower Market.

Engaged should be every brides “first stop after he pops the question.”

Photo Credit: Becca Bell of 2b Photography

Article by Brittany Windle

Follow Brit on Twitter

 

Why Self-Acceptance Is So Hard

March 30, 2016

singlematters.com I just celebrated another birthday. Not much has changed in a year, and yet everything has changed in a year.

I still struggle not to be completely awkward in unfamiliar social settings. Sometimes I say too much, and other times not enough. There are some life lessons I still have to learn over and over again. My brows are still uneven. My nose is still crooked. My body is flawed, and my mind often messy. Yet I have learned there is beauty in the mess. I have allowed myself to be taught the art of flawed acceptance.

To accept myself, my whole self, the flawed, the weak, the awkward, the crooked and the messy parts, God gave me permission to accept — to actually see — the beautiful, the strong, the brave and the supernatural parts of me as well.

For years I felt unworthy of a holy self-acceptance. I don’t mean “holy” in any type of religious reference. I mean that to be “holy” is to be whole by definition. I was light years ahead of others when it came to accepting the negative things about myself. Oftentimes I would find comfort in my flaws and mistakes, cradling those ghosts like a little girl rocking her doll. I thought I was being kind and honest to myself and to the world by willingly raising my hand and taking full ownership of the messed-up parts of me.

To be partly honest isn’t to be honest at all.

I had actually been lying to myself and lying to the world. To have been honest would have also been owning up to having blue eyes for days, a contagious smile, a heart for people, tears for the bound and a relentless tenacity to change the world.

After much work and conscious effort I found space for me within my own flawed heart. I have discovered that to choose me — all of me — allows me to choose all of someone else. In the process, I realized I couldn’t fully accept others until I fully accepted myself. I could not make the world a better place until I made me a better place. I have learned, and will continue to learn, the grace of holy self-acceptance.

I will keep finding room for me within my own beautifully messy soul.

I will keep requiring that I choose myself so I can choose others.

I will keep demanding that I be honest, yet gentle, with myself.

I will keep praying that I provide myself with kind attention where it is needed.

Finding room in my heart and holy self-acceptance are beautiful things.

They are energetic and powerful. They are healing. They do a work from the inside out. They are bold. They are brave. They give permission to change the world.

They were my gifts, and I pass them on to you.

Be brave enough. Be strong enough to make room in your heart for a holy, flawed acceptance. Your bravery might just spark a relentless tenacity to change the world, uneven brows, contagious smile and all.

Article by Cheslie Birks 

Follow Chelsie on Twitter and Instagram

Originally published on singlematters.com 

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5 Musts for the Busy Woman

March 23, 2016

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Recently, I had a change of jobs. Although I would consider this move to be an advancement from where I was before, I caught myself homesick and stressed. A new job means a new schedule, new people and new responsibilities.

To make it through the transition and twelve hour days, I began to find something to look forward to every day. Thankfully, the time change peeked around the corner and has allowed for the sun to still be beautiful and bright when I exit the building on those long days. The first day the sun was still out at 6:30 p.m., I hurried into the house, changed into workout clothes, and bolted out the door for a long run. Looking forward to something as simple as the sunshine allowed me to look for the silver lining in each day.

I’m kinda known for relishing in a cup of hot tea, preferably “Sleepy Time” tea at night, taking long baths, and cuddling up in a cozy robe. (No, I am not in my 60′s.) If you didn’t consider me to be an old soul before, I’m sure my new philosophy on life solidifies it now.

But if you catch yourself running only on fumes and know that your busy schedule may not be slowing down, consider these five musts for keeping your sanity and lowering your stress:

1. Find something to look forward to every day, even if it’s just as simple as sitting on your porch or going for a walk in the afternoon.

2. Discover the things that bring you joy and fulfillment, and do them! Implement these small joys into your daily life. Exercise is essential for me. Even if I were to never burn a calorie or lose an inch, I would still workout. Exercise relieves stress and releases endorphins. (Endorphins reduce your perception of pain and produce a positive feeling! Thanks, WebMD.) Other things on the list may include going to the farmers’ market on Saturday’s or thrift shopping. Your list may look differently, but whatever it is, make time for those things that create moments of relaxation and happiness.

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3. Surround yourself with inspiring friends. My closest girl friends validate my feelings but are also honest with grace when needed. Their conversations are therapeutic, comical and often times enlightening. And hey, “a good friend is cheaper than therapy,” they say. Negativity breeds negativity, which can add to an already stressful life.

4. Take time to be with your family, and call your grandmother back.  My family centers me. They shower unconditional love and provide irreplaceable support. During my job change, my grandmother called several times and left voicemails. When I returned the call, all she wanted to say was “I love you.”

5. Put it in your schedule to rest. Rest is just as important as anything you do. If you are spent, then you are good for no one. A rested mind, body, and soul make for a better friend, mother, sister and coworker. Say “no” to things that you know will be draining, and make time to sit down and put your feet up daily.

What can you look forward to every day?

Article by Brittany Windle

Photo Credit: 2b Photography  Model: Becca Bell, one of my inspiring friends

Inspire Us Bham

February 9, 2016

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The Inspire Us Bham project was started by Laura Jett Walker, a wedding photographer, and Kali Peirsall, a wedding videographer. “ A 2005 car wreck left Piersall with a prominent scar on her forehead. Wouldn’t it be neat, she said, if Walker captured her in a makeup-free portrait?”

This conversation inspired the fun duo to host an event and photo shoot of 20 to 30 women all makeup free, celebrating raw beauty and the stories behind these inspiring women.

Piersall and Walker say their goal is to celebrate women and their individuality. “‘We’re all about people being different,’ Piersall says. ‘There’s a lot of jobs the Lord’s given me and given Laura. But judging people isn’t one of them.’”

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Kerri, one of the many women involved in the project, tells her story of helping other women accept their uniqueness.

On Feb. 15, Walker will photograph these women and document each story. Applications are now closed, but you can join the event at The Nest in Avondale from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. We’ll be there!

Read Kerri’s story and many others here, and stay tuned for the release of the project!

(Sources: Al.com)

Thanksgiving Serve

November 6, 2015

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“If you don’t post it on social media, it never happened” is a common misconception. It can be extremely easy to lose sight of what’s important with the way the media has helped play a role in distracting us. The need to post everything we do from what we ate that night to a rant on presidential elections are among the themes we see on our Facebook news feeds. Some things should be left unseen and unheard. Unfortunately, privacy no longer exists.

Social media often fuels the selfish nature of man. Self is gloried at every turn. While the need to be outwardly beautiful is every person’s desire, this need has become an obsession to the point that many can’t post a picture without first editing and tweaking. Instagram accounts look like editorial features from magazines ranging from Cosmo to Southern Living.

“If you don’t have a crisp, white kitchen, wreaths decorated with burlap, and you and your children looking as if you’ve stepped out of J. Crew, you’re nothing,” a friend joked as we were talking about social media expectations.

What if the time we spent in front of the mirror or retaking a photo was spent serving others? What if we decided to create a balance, “unfollow” those who cause us to compare? What if we didn’t think about self so much but the person we may have passed by at the grocery store who needed help with their bags? Did we notice the homeless woman sitting outside that department store?

An act of service may not be seen or heard by a crowd of many. But the impact it has on an individual far outweighs the “likes” your selfie may receive.

Sometimes I have to remind myself what it’s all about. The expectations of the media and the self absorption it has helped create can be exhausting. To set myself aside, serve a person less fortunate puts things into perspective.

And if no one sees it or hears it, it still happened…. and best of all, it could be life changing to someone who really needs it.

Join me this Thanksgiving in serving those in the Birmingham area. Listed below are service opportunities hosted by several organizations in the city.

1. Church of the Highlands

2. Hands on Birmingham 

3. Jimmie Hale Mission

4. The Community Kitchens of Birmingham

5. First Light Shelter

6. See this list of Food Pantries in Birmingham for service opportunities.

7. Check out the Homeless Shelter Directory for a list of shelters in the state of Alabama.

* If the service opportunity isn’t on the website, call the location to inquire.

Brittany Windle

Follow Brit on Twitter.

Quote and Photo: TryLife