3 Steps To Greater Faith {So Simple}

A pastel and charcoal sketch I did tonight...
(...practicing tone and value. The expensive drawing lessons are finally paying off!) 

 Three steps to a greater faith...when you find that your faith is too small...when you are "of little faith"...

 1. Begin to consider how much you are loved by God.

 2. Multiply that by infinity.

 3. Be completely persuaded that He loves you.

 Then repeat those three steps, again and again, every day of your life. You will become a woman of great faith.

  "Faith works by love..."

Hey, Soul Sister! {I Adore You}


At my first art show, I was approached by a dark skinned beauty.  Long hair, very confident and so, so pretty.  She took her time, looking at each canvas, as her husband patiently waited, making small talk with my Preacher.

Then, she matter-of-factly rocked my world.  She said, "I want this painting, but I want her to have dark skin.  And I want her hair to be long and straight."

Then she said, "And I want this painting.  But I want her to have dark skin.  And her hair needs to be short, like this painting, but also curly."

Then (you guessed it), she said, "And I want this one - Soul Restoration.  But I want her to have dark skin.  And I want her to have this hair over here..."  (and she showed me an entirely other canvas....)

My head was spinning, as I wrote down her every wish.  This beautiful woman's wish was my command, and I heard the heart of God talking to me in her wishes...

"...I want her to have dark skin."

Now, I had tried to paint dark skin before, and I have long wanted to paint dark skinned beauties in my she-art, but I never could get it quite right.  So I'd quit.  In spite of that inner knowing that was admonishing me to keep trying, I would quit, and set the whole thing aside for "another day".   

So this is for all my dark skinned beautiful friends...my soul sisters...with whom I share a special bond.

You wanted her to have dark skin.

I've worked so hard...but I think I got it.

8x8 print available in my shop


Depression, Self Harm, Thoughts of Ending The Pain {There Is An Answer}





I don't have a tat. (That's hip-speak for "tattoo"...because I am a hip kinda girl. Kind of.)

But if I did have a tat, it would be this one. That's me, up there, drawing on myself with a Sharpie. I am forty-some-odd years old, and still had the feeling that I wanted to look over my shoulder, afraid my momma was going to catch me writing on myself.

That was a big no-no in my house, growing up. I am absolutely certain I got spanked for writing on myself, at some point in my childhood.

(No phone calls, mom, please. I wrote on myself. Get over it.)

Wow. That was better than therapy. That felt good.

(And my mother is reading this and laughing, I promise...)

The message portrayed here is just this - the semicolon represents the writer's decision not to end a sentence, but rather to add to the story.

The cross represents the message of the mighty grace of God. It is your only source of healing. It is the Word that must come after your semicolon. The cross represents the rest of the story. The part of your story where life comes out of death, and He gives you beauty for ashes.

My mother chose a semicolon, over forty years ago, and I am so glad she did. There was so much left of her story to tell, so much beauty waiting to be discovered.

My mother, with a handful of sleeping pills, and a hopeless heart, had an encounter with the Living God one night. Not long after that, she was filled with the Holy Spirit, and set free from her torment.

Ask me again why I am a firm believer in what the old saints called The Second Experience.

Fast forward a few decades, and you will find me...a preacher's wife...fighting for my joy, against the formidable giant of clinical depression.

It was a howling in my soul that would. not. stop. A desert-place is more than just dry. Being dry was the easy part. A desert-place is howling and empty. Desolate.

I don't know how else to describe it. If that sounds like melodrama to you, then you haven't been clinically ill. You've had a bout with the blues, not a pitch black night of the soul.

The Gospel saved me again. It saved me as a six year old girl. And it saved me again, not so many years ago.

The Preacher began to revisit the doctrines of Grace in January of 2009. I will never forget the exact Month and year. Not even he knew the depths of my despair at that time. I have always refused to make him responsible for my well being. I did not want to burden him or frighten him, that is the simple truth.

But he began to preach the scandalous grace of God as though that was all there was in all the world to preach. He preached grace courageously...even dogmatically...as though he sensed that lives depended on it.

Little did he know, back then. One of the lives was mine. I was listening, and I was investigating everything he taught.

I was set free from loving and serving the law of God, and I began to simply love God because He first loved me. I discovered for the first time that God no longer blesses those who keep the law...He blesses those who are in Christ Jesus, who depend on a righteousness that is not...not...not one whit...not their own.

The real Jesus took your sin and your sorrows and bore that burden to Calvary. The punishment that paid for your peace and total well-being was placed upon Him. By His stripes, you are healed of all manner...all manner...of sickness and dis-ease.

Don't put an end to your story. Choose the semicolon.

And come to the cross. Lay your heavy burden down.

I would love to pray for you. Simply slip me an email, with your first name, and I promise I will pray for you.

How The Lord loves you!


Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

Part 2 - Are Your Friendships Sacred? {They Should Be}




Now, the flip-side of the coin, and the other-side-of-the-moon-side of my heart.

Part 1 of this two-parter fell along the lines of autonomy in healthy relationships. No one should be allowed to write their name on your foot. (Um...Toy Story? Get it? Never mind.)

In other words, I don't own you.

And yes, the less I "need" you, the healthier my relationship to Christ must be.

But there will come a day when I will need you. So much. There will come a day when, no matter how deeply and well I honor my marriage, nothing can substitute for the love and compassion another woman can lavish on my heart. Home girl needs her homies.

Yeyah.

Okay, I'll stop. I'm so white. I shouldn't even try, but I keep on trying.

The fact that we live in a broken world doesn't escape me. Sure, if you are married, that man is designed to be your Most Significant Other. But what if you are divorced? Let's be real. June Cleaver would creep me out a little, if she lived next door. Leave It To Beaver families don't populate our cities...or our churches.

Under normal (and even sub-normal) circumstances, no one can replace a mother or father, and if someone attempts to be more important in your life than your family, you should be suspect of motive.

But more often than we care to know, circumstances are not normal. Sometimes, a relationship is broken beyond repair, and spiritual mothers and fathers must step in to give a love and sense of identity and yes, necessary correction, that would otherwise be entirely non-existent. The family of God is a very real entity, and urgently important.

My neighbors to one side are raising their grandchildren, because their daughter keeps needing to detox, and can't take care of her own babies.

Down the street, a mom sent her young son to us, to ask if he could shoot basketball on the goal in our front yard...because, he said, his parents were fighting that afternoon, and might get a divorce.

Across the street, her elderly husband just died. And her grown (wealthy) son is stealing all her dead husband's tools.

These aren't ordinary times we are living in. It is more vital than ever to have a support system of relationships...people willing to go the distance.

I also think its wonderful to have girlfriends who are willing to put on a ball cap and dark sunglasses and go threaten someone who has hurt you.

I feel sorry for those not part of a local church. They got no people to threaten people for them.

Not that any of my home girls have done that for me. Yet. Prank phone calls? Maybe. As of now, though, no one has actually threatened my enemies.

But at least they want to. And if anyone hurts them?

Hold. Me. Back.





Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

Of Men "Like" Sons, and of Grandsons





The Preacher's namesake...my grand...on the left. A friend, who is more "like" a son, on the right.

See previous post.

Almost couldn't love him more, had I raised him. But his parents did a better job than I could have done.

See previous post.

Is that baby boy on the left not the cutest? The most expressive little boy I have ever seen. And all mine, in that grandchild sort of way.





This is why grand parenting is the bomb dot com. The best. Awesome.

You get to enjoy this up close, when you want, and from a distance if you get a headache.

He is already a gifted drummer, not even lying. His poor parents.

Earplugs, anyone??



Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

Part 1: Are Your Friendships Sacred? {They Should Be}

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” 


“In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting–any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends, “Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.
 ~C.S. Lewis



 My attitude towards my friendships is just this: once I am "in", I am all in.
 You would have to leave me, because I ain't leavin' you. I am happy to be stuck with you.

 Were you to deny the infallibility of Scripture or the diety of Christ, we'd have issues - simply because I am not a closet Christian. We would end up "having it out". Even then, I would work hard to salvage the relationship, to whatever degree I could.

 Now, if you run off and leave me...well, I'll leave the porch light on for you. You prefer your friends to be witty and good looking, so I figure you'll be back. And I will miss you, too, because I have a weakness for witty, good looking, interesting people myself. I sort of collect them as friends. But I won't chase you and attempt to tie you down, because that wouldn't work. If you are the one who cut the ties, you have be the one to bring your half of the rope back to where you cut it - that's just scientific fact, and its also good for your soul.

 I have a strong belief in autonomy and interdependence, when it comes to friendship. I know, that seems awkward and impossible, but it actually makes for the most healthy relationship. I am a "boundaries" kind of girl. I won't seek to be anyone's "bestie"(gah), nor would I ever try to take the place of what should be a significant relationship in your life. Jurisdiction, jurisdiction, jurisdiction. God loves boundary lines - He created them.

 You have a momma. You have a blood-sister. Bond with them, however you can! Under any sort of normal circumstances, they are infinitely important, and should be given honor - no matter how flawed the person and how tedious the relationship may be. I refuse to allow you to put me in what should rightfully (and Biblically) be their place. I don't like for my affirmation to come that way.

Let me be "just" your friend - that means the most. Then, if I have earned the right (versus being merely sentimental,and cheaply sentimental, at that!) you can call me a mentor, someone who is "like" a mother to you, or your sister in Christ.

 Lots of people call me those things - interestingly, the ones I permit to call me "mentor" and "mom" usually have, or strongly pursue, healthy relationships with their parents and/or spouse.  Maybe that's  because I won't have it any other way.  If those relationships are fractured, I see it as my job as a true mentor or an actual spiritual mother to stand in the gap and build up that breach, doing all I can to bring healing.

 I get the whole "family of God" thing. I live it, breathe it, and love it. I "get" that we are brothers and sisters in Christ. I am a "mother in Zion".

And I understand the Holy Spirit's use of metaphor. Very important.

See, the whole reason that metaphor works, and the way that metaphor works best, is when we understand and cherish and pursue healthy relationships with our blood family, our blood kin....as well as our blood-bought family in our local church.

 The less you need me, the healthier our friendship will be. Because that means your most important relationships - Christ, your spouse, and your family - are your first line of defense.  Then, when you do need me, I know I can make a difference by doing something doable. Something small.

There, I said it.

 Where have we gotten the idea that all our gestures and all our doings towards one another must be grand or heroic? I don't need to have to feel as if I must give my body to be burned - because the ante and definition of "true friendship" has been upped past what is reasonable. Because you don't turn first to me...because you turn first to Christ to get your needs met, I am under no pressure to perform. All is grace.

 Besides, it is the small and the ordinary that defines our lives. Big acts of love have no context without being able to deeply value the small graces. Every gesture - every prayer - every thought a girlfriend offers for me is a gift unearned and undeserved.

 Oh - and let's not forget your husband. He is designed from the garden of Eden to be a primary relationship in your life. Your "bestie", if you can bring yourself to use that word. Let him be your...best friend.

 When those two relationships with God and with your husband are solid and functioning, that's when I come in. When I am in my proper place, accepting my jurisdiction in our friendship, and you are content with healthy boundaries....oh, then I get to shine! I can help you bear a few of your burdens, and show you a good, good time.

 Lord knows, I dearly love to have fun.




On Spike TV {My First Art Show Got a Little Crazy}

Have you ever heard of Joey Tattoo?



Me neither, until Saturday, when two very large video cameras, and a mic on the end of a very long stick, and Joey Tattoo and his entourage came to my booth at the art show...

...for a quick interview...

...on television...for TV...

...the "angle" of the show is to be about art and small business.

I'm thinkin' they should let me license my images to them for the purposes of body art.

I'm pretty sure I said something about markets and shows and how, if you are considering doing them, you should shoot yourself in the foot.  Give yourself every excuse not to do it.

Just kidding.  But I feel like I've been whipped like a rented mule, and so does my Preacher.  Art shows are hard work.  If you go to one, please, please, please buy something from each and every artist.

Just sayin'.

My TV interview, and meeting Coretta and her momma from Texas were two of the highlights of the weekend - as well as discovering what an incredible team The Preacher and I make...in every way.  Not just in the church, baby.  Not just...other places.  We make an incredible team/duo of artists.  Dynamic Duo, for sure.

Or something.

And make no mistake - preaching...good preaching...is an art form.  A nearly-lost one.  My Preacher has got it going on, though.  And he is becoming a seasoned photographer, with a discerning eye for composition.

Here's me, in my booth, scratching my nose, I think...

And here's a look at the incredible crowd...tens of thousands...that walked the main street of Acworth, Georgia (juuuust north of Atlanta)...


Incredible fun I had.  (Gosh...I sound like Yoda in Star Wars...."Very tired, I am.")

And that darn Preacher is insisting I get off this computer and come to bed.  Something about him being exhausted from the entire weekend and needing sleep.  He's so demanding.  Cute...but demanding.

My First Art Show {What I Know}




I know I've been up since 4:30 a.m.

I know I've already had six tons of fun, and this rodeo is only halfway done. There is still tomorrow.

I know people are paying me for my art. I know, right? It's a mad, mad world.

I know I've been up since 4:30 a.m.

I know I will never forget the little 13 year old girl who shyly stalked my booth, and asked her momma for two (expensive) paintings...of girls in pretty dresses. That little girl read every one of my paintings (all my art has words...can't...stop...talking...evenwhenIpaint). She stole my heart.

I know I will never be the same after a 40-something year old woman left my booth, weeping. She choked out the words, "You have touched me. Thank you so much." She didn't buy a thing, but she could not have affirmed my calling more had she bought me out.

I know I've been up since 4:30 a.m.

There's so much more I know from this experience so far....but I don't remember what it is.

Goodnight, moon...


Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

The Mighty, Wonderful, Powerful, Sweetest Name {Jesus}






Can I ask you to bear with me...to grant a little grace...cut me some slack...

...because I am such a jacked-up Jesus Freak.

I just love the Name. I believe "God" has a mighty name. I believe that this name...all by itself...has power. And the fact that a few fearful souls won't say the Name, for fear of offending or losing art clients or blog followers or hurting their networking opportunities...it all serves to make me more passionate about shouting this name from the housetops...

...Jesus.

Truly, "the Name that has heard my cry/and seen my tears and wiped them dry" (lyrics from the Margaret Becker song, "Say the Name") is a person, with whom I share an intimate, spiritual relationship, worshipping Him in Spirit and in truth.
I know Someone who has carried my griefs and sorrows, who has delivered me from my fears, who has set my feet upon a rock, who is my best friend.

Why would I not tell you His name?

Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

{Originality} What Is It...and What It Is

“Originality doesn’t mean making something that’s completely new;  nothing is completely new.  Originality means bending and shaping what’s come before until it belongs to you.” 

- Robert Hunt




Nothing...nothing at all is completely new.  "There is nothing new under the sun", the Bible says.  The only truly original Artist is The Original Artist - God.  So feel relieved...bathed in grace...free to be originally yourself in every way...the way you dress, the way you express your gifts, the things you love {and don't love} to do...the art you create.  Take what you see in someone else, deconstruct it, find out what you love and don't love about what you see, take what you love, leave out what you don't, and remix the whole darn thing.  Put your heart into it.  

What comes out, will be yours alone.  Who cares that you first saw it somewhere else? 

Obviously, this doesn't mean that we slavishly and sloppily copy others.  That constitutes a true lack of self respect on the part of the person copying...not to mention it could constitute stealing and plagiarism and copyright infringement and all sorts of unpleasant and illegal things.  

But no one...no one at all...pulls a style or a philosophy or a creative idea out of thin air.  Each of us is the sum total of our input.

So let your input be  mighty fine.  Mighty fine, indeed.

Easter Adorableness

The grandson was sick today...and this Mimi stayed home with him on this Easter Sunday, so that his parents could go lead worship at our church. So no pictures of him in any Easter Glory or Finery.

But this....oh, this...






And this....






Apparently hair accessories taste good. Or help with teething. Or both.

Later, the grandson was taken to his house for a nap, The Preacher made it home from church, and he and I went to the granddaughter's house for Easter lunch.

This Mimi has been deep in the throes of First Art Show Preparation. Deep, deep. And sick with an evil headcold absolutely all of Holy Week, on top of it.

Let me tell you, it rocks to have daughters old enough to host holiday meals. I cooked a ham and took it. BAM. I did not one thing more.

After the Easter Swine was joyfully consumed (because I can) The Preacher played with his new professional level (something having to do with CMOS and sensors and stuff and things) Birthday Nikon, and grabbed this shot...





SOC. Straight Out of Camera. A little bit low light (rainy day) but a money shot! And guess who she was looking at?

Her Mimi. Me-me.

I know, right? You want me to stop my bragging and get on with my bad self.


Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

Introverts Are Different






Do you love being with people? Do you have a felt need to socialize? (We all need it, to varying degrees...we simply were not created to be alone...)

If you answered "yes", you are not an introvert. Introverts have a felt need for more solitude than an extrovert. Many extroverts almost never feel an intense, consistent need to be alone or quiet, thus they will never really understand it. And unfortunately, they will often try to force their introverted loved ones into their own extroverted perspective. Extroverts mistakenly assume that everyone should be just like them, and oooooh boy, do extroverts need people!

Typically, introverts are more creative than their extrovert friends...which is good, because we introverts need all the props we can get. The entire world, it seems, is trying to make us apologize for the way we were made.

Yes. God made us this way. And some of us (like yours truly) He has made to be quiet souls, and souls that need quiet...

...and then He called us into public ministry. This requires a near-daily dying to self, and a continual setting aside of our own, very legitimate, need for quiet time alone. Something an extrovert will never comprehend. Just know that you don't know. Compassion for your introverted loved one starts right there: opening your mind to the idea that you may actually not know what it is like to be "her". And you do not know what she needs, so let her tell you.

May I gently encourage you to tell your artsy, introverted, quiet friend that she is enough? That she is enough as a friend, as a daughter of God, as a mother, that she is loved exactly as she is?

I can almost promise you, she will go off by herself and weep with gratitude for being told one simple thing: that she is loved, lovely, and enough. Tell her you delight in her in spite of herself.

Endeavor to understand and encourage the introverts in your life.





There is a link to a Facebook fan page for your incredible introvert here


Written for you with love...
Sheila Atchley
All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

The Preacher's 50th

The love of my life turned 50 today.

I have spent the better part of two days cleaning my house, shopping, decorating, and generally preparing for what for us is a small family gathering of 16.





















That box...my gift to him..."brown paper packages, tied up with strings"...definitely had in it one of his favorite things!






Cards from friends...





I decorated the house in spring...





Having his grandchildren all around is definitely his favorite thing. (The granddaughter was napping during gift opening time...)

Surrounded and spoiled and adored and loved by his family. He rocked his 50th, for sure. Spent it exactly how he's always dreamed he would.

I am so honored to be the girl beside him and the one dearest to his heart. My beloved man of God, who has poured himself into all his relationships...thus has never had time for a mid-life crisis...he is too busy loving and being loved.

Happy birthday, Preacher!

You are the love of my life...




Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

The Evolution of an Art Studio

(a corner of my art studio...)

I had a conversation with a friend today, and it blessed me.  Just since I taught my first mixed media art class in February, she has acquired her very own art supplies, and even a cabinet to put her treasures in, out of reach of her small children.

It got me thinking about the evolution of my own space, and how important it is that a woman  have her own niche in the home...a place that is hers alone, to be able to create what she creates, and walk away from it, and come back to it...because a woman's life never seems to afford her long stretches of uninterrupted time, until her children are all grown.

Wait.  No, not even then.  I speak as One Who Knows.

What I really know is this:  I know what happens when you are truly content, and you make the most of what you have, instead of wishing for things to be different.

So I decided to dig around my archives, to share with you the evolution of one woman's art studio...mine.  I know what it means to have to "make do", and here's the amazing thing...

...it wasn't that long ago.  In fact, it was one year ago this week.  I checked the date on the blog post.

That.  gives.  me.  goosebumps.

To see what God has done in the space of one year.  One year.   How?  I'm not asking you.  I'm asking myself.  How?  One year ago this week, I had no idea what was coming.  Bigger art, bigger dreams, bigger goals, bigger things, and a much, much, much bigger art studio.

Here is how this all began...


...in my dining room.  My dining room.  Out of sheer determination to BOTH create AND be content with what I had available in terms of space, I cleared dishes out of a corner dining room hutch, and plunked my art supplies in it.  Every single art-thing I owned.  And then, on a whim and a prayer,  I made art to raise money so some kids from a single parent family could go on a mission trip.  I wanted so badly to give.  I wanted these kids to get on a plane for the very first time...

...I was stunned when I sold everything I painted.  I put half of it in the offering plate for the mission trip, the other half I put back into art supplies...simply because I felt strongly impressed that I was to keep painting.

So after the mission trip, I kept painting.

And people kept buying.  Then a local retail shop began to carry my art.  Then, on Mother's Day 2012, The Preacher bought me a tiny desk and we literally cleared out a corner of our bedroom, selling the treadmill (a girl has to keep her priorities in order!) and that corner then became my studio.

I was so proud of it.  The Preacher was so glad to eat at the table again.

 my tiny studio, in a corner of my bedroom...

It was exactly here, in this space,  that I found courage to dive into creating my W.E.L.L. Being videos..."Women Equipped To Love and Lead"...videos in which I attempt to bring encouragement to anyone who will listen.

And I kept painting.  And I started my business.  And I opened my online shop.  And started my business Facebook page.  (Like me?  Please?)

Long about August of this past year, the neighbor across the cul-de-sac offered to sell his house to my son-in-law and daughter, who had been living with us, along with our grandson Timothy (who is The Preacher's namesake).  They had been living with us so that Justin could finish his Master's, do his internship, work three jobs, and they could have their baby.  

With all those things checked off the list, and a nice savings built up, they were able to buy the house across the cul-de-sac from us.  That was a day I will never forget.  The Preacher and I wept for joy...and sadness...as this chapter of all our lives came to a close.  A couple of weeks after they moved next door, my tiny corner studio, once crammed in my bedroom became...

...a whole room.  With two rooms suddenly coming available, I had a studio! 

For the first time in 25+ years, I had a full-fledged art studio.  And guest room.

And my studio wasn't big enough.  It felt cramped.

I know, right?  I went from a dining room corner cabinet, containing all my art supplies (well, with a few more crammed into the dining room buffet) to a whole 10x12 room feeling too small.

In one year.  Here's the weirdness:  90% of all the art supplies that filled that room had just...come to me...over the course of about nine months.   

My family can bear witness to the truth of what I am telling you.  There is no explanation...tools and equipment and supplies have been...coming to me...since one year ago this week.  Non stop.  In the form of gifts, gift cards, loans (some equipment is on "indefinite loan").  It has come to me in the form of  Craigslist deals, hand-me-downs, The Preacher spending his lunch money on me...and me investing a little out of our budget, here and there, to fill in the edges of whatever this crazy-train thing is that God is up to in my life! 

Then, last month, I mentioned to the Preacher that our large guest room (the room Justin and Hannah vacated when they moved out) would sure make an awesome studio...because it has a tiny bath, and I could clean my brushes so much easier if my art studio had its own sink.  I truly wasn't even completely serious.

But it was all I had to say.

My Preacher picked up his phone and cancelled and rescheduled all his appointments that day.  (Nothing was life or death...no one was suicidal...that day.)  By the end of that very day, my studio became this:


TWO closets, tons of space, and my own bathroom. 


...and my first art show coming up in three weeks, in...of all places...art mecca of the south...Atlanta, Georgia!

Friends, where God guides, He provides.  Please do come with me on this crazy-train plan of His.

It is going to be one.  wild.  ride.

Oh.  By the way.  If you come stay with us....sorry.  Your room is smaller than my studio.  And your full bath is just across the hall, instead of in-suite.  But you won't mind, because I'll feed you so dang well.

And you would rather be able to crack your window and hear the pond waterfall, anyhow.

The Friendships of Women


I think of the old hymn, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus"...and that is the truest thing I know.

Yet, I have also been blessed with the friendships of women.

I have to say, I have the best, most beautiful friends.  Every single one of them, every gesture, every word, every sacrificial and small thing they do in and for my life...

...it is an unearned, undeserved grace.

I treasure them.

Real Women of God - Not Faux Females






We live in a day and time when a young woman's Big Ambition is to get a tattoo...in Jesus' name, of course. And is it any wonder? I have nothing against beautiful body art, and I cannot fault them, when my generation's Big Ambition is career advancement, or a newer luxury SUV, or to add one more pair of exotic chickens to the coop, as they advance to the next stage in their "call" to go off the grid...in Jesus' name, of course.

Because everyone knows, serving Jesus has to come by degrees...one must first get her tat, or a cute car and cowboy boots, or at least a live in boyfriend if she is young....or she needs to build her business and get a Lifestyle Lift, or get off the grid and milk cows if she is older. Preparation is key, right? One must prepare to eventually practice true religion.

And everyone knows that the local church and its people have little-to-nothing to do with the practice of true religion. Give us the organic church. Dude. We can do church while we hang out in Starbucks and the gym. The "organized church" is a hindrance to us girls, as we prepare to desire to eventually bring God great glory with our great bodies, our Jesus tats, our sweet cowgirl boots and cute cars. And for the over-40 crowd, Jesus is made beautiful by our statement necklaces, our weight loss, our beautiful home, our happiness, our connections, and our big bank accounts.

But sacrifice? True religion? Involvement with the children and families of the local church? So not cool. That stuff won't build my self esteem or my business or my future. A girl has to dream her dreams, and prepare to eventually want to practice True Religion.

Well. Last week was world-wide Women's Day. The following was published via the web, by World Vision - the story of the impact of a few women on the life of Bob Pierce, founder of World Vision (and a big shout out to my new friend Tessa Burns, for sharing this with me...)

...may our woman's heart become magnificently obsessed with Christ, may we love and value the Bride of Christ (the local church), and may we dispense with kidding ourselves about what a woman of God looks like...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My father, Bob Pierce, first traveled to China in 1947 with Youth for Christ. World Vision wasn’t even a twinkle in his eye. But years later, he would write, “My own world vision from God was sparked on that first trip.” Among the people who ignited that spark were women who were determined to change the world in Jesus’ name.
* * *
Beth Albert: “The trigger of the vision God gave me for missions.” -Bob Pierce
My father met American missionary Beth Albert in a remote area of China called Kunming. Beth introduced Dad to a world he never knew existed.

In 1947, leprosy was still considered a death sentence. Beth had discovered more than 100 people struggling to survive in the only place they were allowed to live—a cemetery. They were starving, naked, and dying.

Most heartbreaking of all, their healthy babies died with them. Beth, a trained nurse, was determined to help.

“Beth had no help from the outside,” my dad would later recall. Until he began supporting her, she was dependent upon whatever the locals would give her. She scrounged for old cans and taught the people to fill them with mud to make bricks. With these, they managed to build small shelters.

Food, clothing, medicine, Bible studies … somehow one indomitable woman managed to bring life and hope to those whom the world had written off. And every one of the precious people she served came to know Jesus, not because she preached, but because she loved.

After she was forced to leave China when the communists took over, World Vision continued to support Beth Albert’s work with lepers and the poor in India, which included establishing 14 leprosy clinics.

My dad credited Beth as “the trigger of the vision God gave me for missions.”

* * *
Tena Holkeboer: “World Vision was born that day.” -Bob Pierce

Dad arrived on the island of Amoy for a week of Youth for Christ meetings.

Tena Holkeboer, a Reformed Church of America missionary and principal of the Iok Tek Girls’ Middle School, invited him to speak at their morning chapels. As a result, several of the girls accepted Christ.

What happened next has become a familiar World Vision story. At the end of the week, Dad went to Tena’s home to say goodbye. She met him at the door holding a little girl who had been beaten and abandoned by her family for becoming a Christian.

Shocked and feeling utterly helpless, my father asked, “You will take care of her, won’t you?”

“I am feeding as many children as I can,” Tena replied. “The question is, What are you going to do?”

It was a question my Dad had been asking himself ever since Kunming.
Overwhelmed, he had walked away from the needs of many. But now God was confronting him with the need of one child.

Dad gave Tena his last five dollars, promising to send more when he got home. He would later reflect, “I didn’t know it at the time, but in a real, practical sense, World Vision was born that day.”

* * *
Lillian Dickson: “Typhoon Lil” scooped out her bucketful

My dad was introduced to Lillian Dickson in 1953 on a visit to Taiwan (then called Formosa).

Her willingness to take on human need wherever she found it reaffirmed my father’s conviction that God will do impossible things when we don’t limit him.

Their lifelong partnership would bring thousands to Christ and become one of the enduring cornerstones of World Vision’s ministry.

Lillian came to Formosa in the 1920s as a missionary’s wife. Her husband, Jim Dickson, was the “official” missionary in the family while his bride devoted herself to their children and home. But when the kids got older, Lillian decided she wasn’t going to “sit out her life.”

With Jim’s blessing, she packed up her Bible and accordion, and began hiking with a team of medical missionaries into the most remote areas of Taiwan. They went where neither modern medicine nor the hope of the gospel had ever reached.
Over the next 30 years, “Typhoon Lil” walked thousands of miles, wading through rushing rivers, crossing dangling wooden bridges, and facing down angry witchdoctors and headhunters. She slept, ate, laughed, and cried with the tribal people she loved, and every day God trusted her with new needs and a bigger vision.

Asked why she worked so hard when people’s needs were like a great ocean of suffering that could never be emptied, Lillian responded, “I must scoop out my bucketful.”

Her bucketful included caring for street children, lepers, and abandoned babies. With support from World Vision and other partners, she built churches, schools, children’s homes, and clinics.

Her ministry continues today through Mustard Seed International.

* * *
Elizabeth Hunter: “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations.” -Matthew 28:19 (NIV)

These three women are only a few of the legendary missionaries who influenced my father’s life and ministry. But there is one name that is not in the history books. I doubt she ever left the country. Still, her life helped change the world.

Her name was Elizabeth Hunter and she was my father’s high school Sunday school teacher. Every week, she brought Bible stories to life for a group of active teens, challenging them to make a difference in Jesus’ name.

Throughout his life, my father credited Miss Hunter with first challenging him to ministry. But I never realized how deep that challenge went until I discovered a small blue book among my father’s library a few years ago.

It was titled James Hudson Taylor, Pioneer Missionary of Inland China. On the first page, I found an inscription dated Christmas 1928: “To Bob from Miss Hunter. My prayer and deepest desire for you is Matthew 28:18-20. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations.”

Your prayers were answered, Miss Hunter. "

Link can be found here.


shared with love...
Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

Mixed Media She-Art {Warrior Princess}...and a call to fight like girls...

Mixed media 5x5 original, entitled "Warrior Princess". Will be for sale in my Atlanta art show...




...inspired by the book Girls With Swords by Lisa Bevere...

Hi friends!

I don't know about each one of you, but I am certainly in a deep place...of birth...labor...transition...again. But this time? It feels good.

Oh, it hurts. Make no mistake about that. But whereas maybe five years ago, the pain felt like that of giving birth to a stillborn child, this pain comes with a deep knowing that I am pushing out the healthy life of many, many "babies". Multiple births. I am birthing relationally, creatively, spiritually, materially....manifesting grace on many levels.

So are so many of you.

For over a year now, I have been hearing The Lord calling out to our identity as warrior princesses in this day. Let me preface with this: I do not believe that in the natural realm, women should be put in combat roles. I do not. Okay??

You are free to disagree with me. (No hate mail, please. It makes me giggle, and that just makes you angrier. It's a waste of both our energy.) I do not think it bodes well for our nation, when we put our girls in combat.

But. At the same time, the natural reflects the spiritual. And it is a fact that in our nation, women have very recently been cleared for combat.

Girls.

Calling all girls. I have a word from The Lord for you!

You are cleared for combat. Approved. Backed by the full resources of heaven, to fight....not as a man, but as who you are...a woman. You have been given legal authority to kick some serious donkey.

So where are you? Here am I, looking like Annie Oakley in the Spirit....armed to my teeth...fighting my butt off....and I am wondering where YOU are! I see a few of you beside me, but every single one of you better get your sweet selves up here to the front lines, because there is no neutrality. Take captive every thought, or any thought will take you captive. Fight. Engage. Live free or die...

It breaks my heart to see so many of us live for nothing greater than raising daughters (or sons) who make it through high school or college with their virginity intact. As vital as that is, and I am not saying it is unimportant, it does not constitute purpose or calling.

Some live for nothing greater than to have a goat to show at a 4-H show...again, a fine secondary or tertiary thing. Some live to "go off the grid"...that goal consumes their time and resources. It might at the very least be a distraction. It can even be a form of idolatry. It keeps you from the battles that matter.

Milking a goat is not tied to my destiny. Planting a rich garden is a practice of mine...but it has nothing to do with the call of God on my life. The call of God on my life and yours involves His favorite creation...not nature...not livestock...but people. If we are using our resources to minister to people, then we are engaged properly in the combat between darkness and light.

Some of us are finding ourselves facing situations that are unacceptable. Our spiritual enemy has attempted to get us to compromise...reconcile ourselves...avoid declaring war, because war is exhausting.

Well, fight tired, then! Fight injured, then! But for God's sake, stop settling for a sweet little isolated life when there is a battle to be won. Stop setting goals that are beneath you.

This is the season to give up your right to sympathy...your right to hold a grudge (which you never had that right to begin with)....your right to be entitled to this or that middle age indulgement ("I've earned the right to take a break...look at what I have been through!")

hmmmmm. A king named David took on that middle aged entitlement attitude, and ended up undoing his kingdom.

I say we get up and get on with the business of fighting. Whether or NOT the men in our lives are with us. I say this very carefully, only in a manner of speaking. I can speak this way because I am one of the more submitted women you may know. I deeply respect male authority, even flawed authority, and always have - that is one of my God given strengths. I do not mock, disregard, or ignore authority.

Fight. With the boys or without them. Never against them....but with them or without them.

Stop treating life's difficulties as though they shouldn't be happening. This is war. This is training for reigning.

How do we fight?

By our worship.

With high praise in our mouth.

By being an integral part of church life.

With a smile.

By our prayer.

By enduring.

By holding our ground with the tenacity that only a woman can have....there is a reason WE give birth. We can endure.

By not carrying over yesterday's struggles into today. Every day we get to fight fresh. We get to be relaxed and refreshed and loaded with new ammo.

Patience is your weapon of mass destruction. Possess your soul with it.

Everything in your life...your family situation...your marriage....your church and its unique season...your place as a children's minister, nursery worker, musician, multi media person, greeter, encourager, meeter of physical needs....all of it is meant to train you how to be excellent, passionate, distinctly and amazingly feminine. An overcomer.

So go be awesome.

I will be looking and listening for my fellow girls-in-combat. Show up fresh. Show up ready.

Be ready to receive twice what you expect...battle spoils.

But know this: two times nothing is....nothing. You better figure out what it is you expect. Because God only commits His warriors to winnable wars. What would a win in your present situation look like? Strategize accordingly.


Written for you with love...
Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

Rock, Paper,Scissors, Key {Hint: Pick the Key}





In all my art, every piece, you will find hidden within it the image of a tiny key - or several keys.

Three groups of people tend to do things without fully knowing exactly why they do them: artists, poets, and prophets. I happen to be a quirky mix of all three, therefore half the time I am saying or doing things of which I have no clue why I am saying or doing them.

The key would be one of those things.

If you asked me, last week, why the key - I would have vaguely told you that understanding the grace of God, and the utterly Finished Work of Christ is the key to understanding all of life and Scripture.

And that would be true.

However, I always knew there was more to it. Artists, poets and prophets are comfortable with waiting on their complete clarity. It doesn't all have to make sense right away before painting it, imaging it in words, or proclaiming it boldly.

But clarity does come, eventually.

Today, the Holy Spirit spoke to me about the keys in my art. He said, in His own special way of speaking to me, "Are you ready to know what these mean?"

I said no.

Just kidding...I said, "A thousand times yes, Master!"

He said, "This is your season to find your keys. This year is your year to discover keys you never knew you had. Keys represent access to wealth and intimacy. Your keys represent the access granted to you, through the cross, to provision, favor, wisdom, authority, all that is Christ's is yours."

Then He said, "Let's play Rock, Paper, Scissors, Keys. Keys always win."

Suddenly...so suddenly...I got the download of revelation.

So you have a lot of cash.

I have the key to the whole vault.

So you have a rock. I have the key to the quarry.

So you have scissors. I have the key to...to JoAnn's Craft Store. ::cough::

So you have a gun. I have a key...to the armory.

So you have a book. I have a key to the Library of Congress.

So you have a cupcake. I own a key to the bakery, baby.

So you have the law. I have the key of David...blessed is she to whom The Lord does not impute sin. God has opened a door of salvation to me that no man can shut...let alone my puny attempts at sin or righteousness.

Keys win. Keys trump all.

I saw, in my spirit, The Lord with a large key ring, containing an unlimited number of keys. I sensed I was being asked...with a loving twinkle in His eye...

"Where would you like to go, and what would you like to see?"

Keys.

Now I know why they are all over my canvases.







Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

{Hope}







Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Dwell in Possibility





I am working hard, these days, to be ready for my first art show. I will be in the north Atlanta area on April 13th and 14th...if you live in the area, and want to attend this great art show...




I would love to meet you!


In the grip of His great grace...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...Change {February, the Month of Love}





{this home girl hates changing her mind about things}


You can experience troubles or trials without change, but you can not experience true, lasting change without some trouble and trial. In fact, trials are God's means of enlarging you. They carry within them the seed of new horizons, of territories gained, of increase and inheritance.

The essence of repentance is simply to change your mind. If all your dearly-held opinions have brought you to a place of isolation or misery, why then, you have the distinct and incredible privilege...and even the pleasure of changing your mind.

Try it.

I have found it to be even kind of fun. A few years back, I found myself with some life-long views of God that were so far beneath who He really is, as to be an insult to His Finished Work, His kindness, and His nature. Changing my mind was a privilege. I was glad to do it.

Change is God's way of lifting up your head above your enemy. You literally think at a different level than before, and grow bigger and stronger on the inside, than the giant you face on the outside.

Dude. Goliath is so about to become my little sister.

God has so enlarged me, using trials and my willingness to let those dang things change me, my Goliath (and he is honking big, if you could see him with your eyes) may as well be wearing Mary Janes and licking a lollipop. I am about to feed him to the birds.

Change is good. I rather enjoy being increased and enlarged. The bigger the battle, the bigger the spoil.

I invite you...if all your thoughts have led you to a place of anxiety, bitterness, or a critical spirit...

...change your thoughts. Change your mind.

It is one of our greatest privileges as saints of God.

Written for you with love...
Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...Godliness {February, the Month of Love}




THEREFORE THEN, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses [who have borne testimony to the Truth], let us strip off and throw aside every encumbrance (unnecessary weight) and that sin which so readily (deftly and cleverly) clings to and entangles us, and let us run with patient endurance and steady and active persistence the appointed course of the race that is set before us...

( Hebrews)

Oh, lovely women of God...of every age...I invite you to love Godliness with me. There is so much more to this life than what some of us are living for. Our heritage as Kingdom Daughters is so much more than we are actively experiencing. Some indulgences are too expensive...because they cost us our cutting edge.

There is nothing worth more to me than the Gospel, nothing worth more to me than learning "the art of losing myself in bringing Him praise". No glass of wine, no country song, no man, no extravagance, no job, no promotion, nothing is worth being even ever-so-slightly weighted down, or even a little entangled.

And everyone knows I love me an occasional Merlot, I love my red lipstick (toned down with a little nude color) and a good Rascal Flatts song. I love me a spa massage, a designer handbag, and being invited to show my art in art shows held in exclusive locations. My theme song can sometimes be, "All I Wanna Do is Have Some Fun" a la Sheryl Crowe.

But that is just a persona to compensate for the fact that I would toss it all overboard this moment, for one encounter with the Living God. There is an intensity in my spirit...a fire shut up in my bones...

I am all about leadership. Lead, follow wisely and well, or go sit down, out of the way. Some indulgences aren't worth my reputation as a leader.

I invite you to love Godliness. When you put it with contentment, you are a sloppy-rich woman.




Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...Process {February, the Month of Love}




So much going on, here at this cottage. Lots of letting go, where letting go is healthy. Lots of holding on, where holding on will make a difference.

Every once in awhile, I get a glimpse of a much bigger picture. I can clearly see, in these moments, how somany means are working themselves out towards a single end: that my life be an illustration of The Art of Bringing Him Praise.

No pain has been wasted...and no joy, either. Nothing wasted. All things truly do work together for good. I live my life at an unfair advantage, neck-deep in grace.

Not many strong or wise or even particularly, wildly beautiful are called.

And I revel in this fact. Me and my crazy-train family are vastly qualified to be His Ambassadors.

The process is the solution. Processes can be very long, and can seem to make nosense.

So often, we cannot find the forest...too many stinking trees. But there really is a greater, over-arching plan, right in front of our lovely faces. Problem is, it cannot, will never be found or discovered or discerned in any list of dos and don'ts anywhere. It is found in the daily monotony of process - when we, day after day, choose our point of reference according to the Gospel, and move forward, choosing to relate to God, people, and circumstances from that point of reference alone...no other perspective.

My point of reference these days is that of a cherished daughter, who, with open spiritual eyes, can see so clearly that "those that be with me are far greater, both in might and number, than those that be against me."





Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...Coffee {February, the Month of Love}



This is some of my original photography, available as a print, in my shop...

I love me a good cup of coffee.  I am also one of those women, whose husband delivers her a cup - in bed - each and every morning.  I sit, tousled hair and reading glasses, looking far less than lovely -  propped up on pillows, prying my eyes open so that I can begin my morning reading...and The Preacher makes my first cup and brings it to me.  Some mornings that might be six AM....most mornings it is seven, and some mornings eight.  Just whenever I wake up, he fires up the Keurig.

Don't be a hater.

He's a grace-man.  That's what you get, when you are blessed enough to be married to a man who "gets" the Gospel...who understands the grace of God.  He doesn't expect perfection from me...he loves me to perfection.

 


I Love...ANNOUNCING THE WINNER {February, the Month of Love}

True Random Number Generator  5Powered by RANDOM.ORG
I counted up the entries in our Jeanne Oliver Online Art Class Giveaway...carefully counting those who entered more than once, through Facebook and Twitter...and...you can check this below, yourself, in the comment section...the winner...via Random Number Generator is... NUMBER 5...MELISSA FINK, of Melissa Ellen's Loft!



I could not be more pleased unless it was my own daughter...(and one of my daughters did enter, by the way, and if the Random Number Generator had picked her comment, I was going to give it to her, fair and square!)...well, this sweet girl won the giveaway, and months ago, she grabbed a little piece of my heart as I got to know her.  She is quite good at mixed media art, has already taken the plunge and started an online business, and is fearless about her love for Christ, on her blog.  You.  Go.  Girl.

That makes us kindred spirits, right there.  So weary of women who are ashamed of their Christian faith, or too hung up on themselves, trying to break into certain circles in the online business/art world...or simply embarrassed to be a little bit radical or a tiny bit more bold.  This is NOT our spiritual heritage!  Think Sarah of old...think Deborah the judge...think of Ruth Graham or Corrie Ten Boom!  Come on, girlfriends...RISE UP.  I am continually sharing my faith, all the time.  So does Melissa Fink.  Being a good - technically good - artist, being a gifted business woman and fun friend, and a great woman to get to know...NONE of these things are incompatible with being a bold believer in Christ.

Oh dear.  I'll stop right there.   I promise the Random Number Generator picked her...but I do like Melissa Fink that much.  She and Shannan Garber Martin just tug at my spiritual mothering heart-strings.  Bold women.

This is besides the fact that I think Melissa's blog has the potential to be the next "up and coming" DIY blog out there...her projects are interesting, her photography is good, her taste impeccable.

Apparently, her heavenly Father wanted to bless her with a few art lessons - keep your eye on her, I think she'll amaze us all one day!

Congratulations, Melissa...and again, thank you Jeanne Oliver, of www.jeanneoliverdesigns.com

I Love Art Supplies {Happy Valentine's Day to Me}







This is what my Preacher got for me for Valentine's Day. Better than any several dozen roses...

...and just as expensive. I got the fifteen color set! These are just some of the colors, and the large blending stick...all oils.

The man saves his lunch money...he eats on the cheap, at home, or some days not at all...to get me little gifts like this. I would be unhappy if I weren't so happy.

I better post this, and shut the computer down, so I can go thank him properly.



Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...Little Monkeys {February, the Month of Love}

Warning: your cute-o-meter is going to peg waaaaay in the red. Alarms may go off.




My daughter Hannah went on a little Valentine's date with her little man today...these pictures stopped my heart.

For reals. I needed defib...too cute.

Don't forget the Jeanne Oliver Online Class Giveaway! To be entered to win, leave a comment here

Don't be intimidated...you do not have to be artistically inclined to enjoy these online classes...you will learn so much...and you will have so much fun....learning art techniques in your jammies should you so choose....

...class kicks off in April. You will have ~months~ to finish it.

A winner will be announced Friday!!

Written for you with love...
Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...My Daughters {February, The Month of Love}





8x10 on canvas, mixed media original, entitled "Her Daughters"

I am so proud of my identical twin, 25-year-old daughters. I love them beyond words can say.




In His Amazing Grace,

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...The Preacher's Photography {February, the Month of Love}

So The Preacher loves DSLR photography. And he has gotten quite good at it...sometimes to my consternation. His composition is often better than mine. He always seems to grab the best shot. We are in an ongoing competition over who is the best...there are days I feel pretty good about my skills...

...then, there are days like today, when it seems God helps him win.

Wouldn't that be cheating???

Look what landed in our back yard, four feet from our (dirty) kitchen window:





A gorgeous, gorgeous young hawk.

Blessedly, Mr. Hawk was standing on a very special painted rock that only we own...otherwise you might think The Preacher stole the shot off the Internet somewhere.





"Whaddya lookin' at, preacher man?!?"

(The hawk wasn't really saying that...)

Who can compete with that? So not fair. Hawks never pose for me.





Written for you with love...

Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

One Thousandth Post, a JEANNE OLIVER GIVEAWAY, "I Love...Art" {February, The Month of Love}

Friends, this is a big day.

This post officially marks my one thousandth post. One thousand blah blah blabbety blabs...and I still have friends, and new "followers" (a term I am not fond of, but did not coin...we just have to roll with it, don't we? YOU know it is just a blog word...you are all leaders, not followers...say it with me: "We have minds of our own. We just like to win free stuff.")

I am beside myself to reveal that the sweet Jeanne Oliver, of Jeanne Oliver Designs- has graciously donated one spot in her upcoming ONLINE mixed media art class...her brand new class...the one entitled "Letting Go."

Here is where the good karma gets all weird and even better...I didn't plan that this would be my 1,000th post...I knew I wanted this post to be a special one!

Well, here at the cottage, the entire story of my life, in the last two years, has been a journey of "Letting Go"...wearing forgiveness like a crown...releasing my too-tight grip on situations and offended people and prodigal sons....none of it is under my jurisdiction anymore. I do not have to fix anything. Just let it go.  Guard my heart...keep relationships...let go of expectations.

Not only that, but wouldn't you know it, as I was planning this giveaway post, just this week, the whole "Letting Go" mojo has reached even newer levels in this house.

I am now a certified black belt ninja letter-go-girl.

So there is something of full circle-ness and fulsome sweetness and just rightness about this giveaway, as well as who the giveaway features, and our connection as mentor/mentee. (Jeanne teaches me online, I learn...)




Please visit Jeanne's website www.jeanneoliverdesigns.com - check out her shop, and once in her shop, check out her online classes. Take note of how amazing the "Letting Go" class is gonna be. Look at all the techniques you will learn, because Jeanne is a good teacher. You will learn. Promise.

To win the generous gift of a FREE spot in her class, please simply leave a comment on this post, first of all. Then, if you tweet about this giveaway (giving the blog address) - that is another chance to win...

...if you Facebook the giveaway or Pin it to Pinterest...same thing...as many chances to win as you can get the word out on social media, and come back here and leave a comment letting me know.

I am also opening this one up to my church ladies, but I promise to use a random computer generated number app, to pick the winner. I will in no way draw names or pick her myself. Everyone has as many chances to win, as they are willing to help promote the lovely Jeanne Oliver's class.

Honestly, if you had to pay her $58 or so fee, you are getting a product...a web workshop...worth over three times what you paid. I can direct you to online art classes all day long with a price tag of $149. Jeanne's classes are worth more than she charges. Homegirl is that good at her art classes.

Those of you who home school will want to win a spot for your student. Easily worth a semester's fine art (not just "crafts") credit.

I will announce the winner of this special giveaway (weeks of classes, tons of demonstration videos) on Friday of the upcoming week. So you have plenty of time to tweet, Facebook, Pin, and refer people to this blog to sign up. Those of you who bring referrals who follow this blog and sign up for the giveaway??? I will add your name yet again, as a "thank you" for the referral. Just make sure I am told that "so and so" sent them here!

FUN FUN!!! And thank you, thank you, Jeanne Oliver!

{www.jeanneoliverdesigns.com} Such a generous giveaway.

So get going, girls! Cannot wait to see who wins this one! Maybe we can take it together!

Letting Go What is His Burden, Not Mine...
Sheila Atchley

All blog content is the property of the writer, including all "In the Middle" intellectual and visual art property...

I Love...Pink and Tutus {February, the Month of Love}

(Post-edit:  This post was originally posted about February 2nd...I went in today to edit the title, and it is now posting for today, along with my "simple dresses" post, and I don't know how to fix it...sorry.)

I love...




...this baby girl. I know, right? You really want me to stop bragging and get on with my bad self. Is this not "hand on heart", gasp-and-squeal cute?!? I have the most beautiful granddaughter on God's earth. (Photo portrait by her artist daddy, Jonathan Howe, taken just one week ago...hard to believe we were having 70+ degree weather...today is frigid and snow...)

Look at that pouty mouth.

Homegirl is six months old today. Will someone please stop time for me? I want her to be all this cuteness a bit longer.