Epic Slumber Party & Shenanigans

Brought to you by the January 2026 Freeze

What started as a simple trip to Austin to see an old friend turned into one for the books… but that’s a story for another day.

By midweek, the real planning began. Joellan and I were texting back and forth nonstop with our “must bring” lists. I kept saying, just add that to my pile. And oh, there was a pile. Chris helped me load the car Wednesday night and mercy… it was packed. Homemade biscuit fixings, pumpkin bread, chicken spaghetti, fresh eggs from my girls, snacks upon snacks, a case of wine, and enough food to feed a small army. Just in case we “starved,” you know. Joellan showed up just as prepared with soup makings, puzzles, and all the cozy extras.

Before the weather locked us in, Carole, Joellan and I made sure to sneak in a meal out Thursday evening. We figured it would be the one guaranteed eat out meal of the whole stretch and we were right. It felt like a calm before the storm moment and such a sweet little meal together.

Friday we kicked things off with a trip out to camp. All the nurses got a hiking tour and let me tell you, it was a hike. We saw where the cabins will be, Orenda the clinic, the dining hall, activity areas, and the beautiful waterfront. Construction is moving along and it is looking so good. We are excited in that deep, grateful, heart girl kind of way. We went over to the old HOH and measured the length of the war canoe path. Can you believe it's 150 yards? That's far, like really FAR!!! We shared lunch, wandered Hobby Lobby for a little crafting fun, and made a run to Ollie’s for a new pot and pan set for Carole plus a much needed soup pot for the weekend ahead.

Before long, everyone was home at Carole’s, bags unpacked, and comfy clothes or pj’s on. And they stayed on for days. That is my kind of dress code. We woke Saturday to a full winter wonderland. The kind that makes you slow down whether you planned to or not. The days blurred together in the best way. Homemade biscuits and jam, scrambled eggs, chicken spaghetti, minestrone soup, tamales, popcorn, endless snacks, and warm drinks. I crocheted THREE scarves... whew! And lots of laughter, lots of laughter! The boys, Charlie the beagle and Deets the bernadoodle, barked incessantly at the buck that showed up just outside Carole's window, and played hard but voted strongly against the frozen ground.

We worked puzzles, played games, stayed up too late, watched movies, binged a new show, read books, took naps, slept in, and did a little work depending on who you asked. We even added beauty face masks to the mix, because winter storm survival apparently includes snacks, puzzles, and glowing skin. And in a true act of bravery and trust, Carole let Joellan and I clean out the fridge and fully rearrange and organize her kitchen. That right there is real friendship. I’m not sure if that counts as a miracle or a service project.

I even made it into the hot tub during the big “warm up” to 31 degrees and it felt like a tropical vacation. It might have even counted as my bath for the day and made put on "real" clothes.

Joellan headed home Tuesday evening. Carole had to reluctantly head back to school Wednesday morning. Bailey treated Carole and me to dinner at the Lakehouse Tuesday evening, which was such a sweet thing to do. Bailey and I got out of the house on Wednesday and had lunch with Joeleigh! We had to get of our pj's, the real world was slowly sneaking in. Bailey left Wednesday evening, and just like that the house grew quiet again. Carole went to bed early and I packed…

I made it home Thursday with mostly clear roads until Howe, then a little slick and slow going. Our road and driveway were the worst part, but worth every careful mile.

Grateful for deep friendships, shared history, camp dreams in progress, full tables, warm kitchens, and the kind of weekends you cannot plan but will never forget.

Freeze all you want, January. In true Jane fashion girls are resourceful and know how to make it a party.

Just being transparent and really vulnerable here...

Be Still…

I’m currently reading a book by Melissa Dougherty called Happy Lies, and whew… it has been stirring things in me in the best and most uncomfortable way.

The heart of the book is about understanding the culture we live in so we can share our faith more clearly and more faithfully.

There’s a chapter where Melissa talks about how we as Christians sometimes cherry-pick Scripture. We pull verses that comfort us, motivate us, or fit what we’re walking through in the moment… while quietly ignoring the rest of the passage.

If I’m honest, I’ve done that too.

Most recently with Psalm 46:10.

That verse is part of my “double heart” tattoo. The words Be still are tied to one of my favorite camp songs, Don’t Disturb the Ladybug. If you know it, you know. The kind of song that sneaks up on me and makes me cry every single time.

And the Scripture itself was no accident.

After the events of this summer, the flood, losing my beloved summer home, and losing Jane, I knew I would get another tattoo. I didn’t know exactly what it would be yet, but I knew it had to happen. And it had to be done by my tattoo guy. You know the one. The one from Jerusalem.

Honestly, I figured it would never happen. He doesn’t live here. He doesn’t travel here often. So I tucked that thought away.

And then… he came to the U.S.

He started doing pop-ups tattoo shops in different cities, and one of them just happened to be in Kyle, Texas. Perfect. No coincidence. Not even a little.

On the way to the tattoo shop, Theresa and I were still deciding exactly what our tattoos would be. Psalm 46 kept circling in my mind. I originally thought Psalm 46:1 was the verse for me.

“God is our refuge and strength…”

But I kept saying Psalm 46:10 instead.

Theresa looked it up and read aloud, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

I knew those words lived in one of my favorite camp songs, but I couldn’t place it. I texted a close camp friend and she replied almost immediately, “Duh. Don’t Disturb the Ladybug. Your favorite. The one that always makes you cry.”

That was it. I knew then that Psalm 46:10 belonged with the double heart.

Fast forward to this book.

Melissa references a wildly popular New Thought teacher who also has “Be still” tattooed on her wrist. For her, that verse became a reminder of her own inner “Knowing.” She describes sensing something deep inside herself. A wisdom. An intuition. A source. Something she believes is God living within her. She says she now takes orders from her Knowing.

And here’s where the pause happened for me.

Because taken alone, “Be still and know” sounds beautiful. Peaceful. Even biblical.

But Scripture was never meant to be read in isolation.

So let’s read Psalm 46 as a whole:

God is our refuge and strength,

an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

Though its waters roar and foam

and the mountains quake with their surging.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy place where the Most High dwells.

God is within her, she will not fall;

God will help her at break of day.

Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;

he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come and see what the Lord has done,

the desolations he has brought on the earth.

He makes wars cease

to the ends of the earth.

He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the shields with fire.

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth.”

The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

That changes everything.

This verse is not about humans’ inner divinity or the power of our thoughts or our Knowing. It’s about God’s sovereignty. His authority. His power over nations, chaos, war, and yes… over us.

WOW.

When we cherry-pick what suits us, we can end up with something that sounds comforting but is totally incompatible with the Bible’s true message.

This really hit me hard. It convicted me deeply. Not just with Psalm 46:10, but with how many times I’ve done this in other places too. It’s made me slow down, pay attention, and commit to reading Scripture in its fullness, not just the parts that feel good in the moment.

I look at my tattoo with new eyes now.

Funny how so many people are averse to tattoos, when they can be visual reminders… even lessons… that the Lord uses to teach, correct, and draw us closer to Him.

So here’s my commitment.

I’m memorizing all of Psalm 46. Not just Be still.

All of it.

Because God is not asking me to find Him within myself.

He’s asking me to be still long enough to recognize who He is.

And that… changes everything.

Oh friends, this one has been resting on my heart for a while now, and I think it’s finally time to share it.

I’ve had a lot of time to reflect stepping into this new year… time to sit with the ache, the memories, the fear of change, and yes… the hope. New beginnings are hard. Really hard. And if you know me, change is not my favorite thing. I like familiar. I like steady. I like knowing that when I round that corner at Crider’s, my heart will start racing like it always has, and that first glimpse of those three hearts on the gate will whisper… “you’re home.”

But this year… that isn’t our story anymore.

When I drove in on July 6 and saw the devastation with my own eyes, my heart broke all over again. The canopy of trees gone. The mighty cypress no longer standing guard. The riverbank changed forever. It wasn’t just the loss of a place. It was the loss of the feeling. And I had to finally admit to myself… even if we rebuilt on that same ground, it would never feel the same. And strangely… I am at peace with that.

Because Heart of the Hills was never just dirt, cabins, trees, and river. Heart of the Hills is people. It is legacy. It is laughter and songs and little-girl giggles echoing off canyon walls. It is Jane. And even though she will not walk with us through our new location… she is absolutely going with us, because she lives inside of us. Her fingerprints are all over who we’ve become. Her voice still shapes how we lead, how we love, and how we show up strong and kind in the world.

And I know there are some who feel hesitant right now; I get it, simply because it won’t be the same place we’ve loved for so long.… and that’s hard. That’s honest. But I also cannot shake this feeling that God is doing something new, and He is not surprised by any of this.

I have stood in Japonica Cemetery, reading the names of the Jones family who dreamed something into existence in 1953 that would ripple into thousands of hearts, thousands of homes, and generations of women. Can you imagine the excitement they must have felt creating a place no one had ever known before? A place that would become sacred to us. Now somehow… we get to stand in that same space of new beginnings again. Different land. Same heart. Same mission. Same God who goes before us.

No… this new location will not be the same. It shouldn’t be. God does not ask us to stay the same. He grows us. He strengthens us. He matures us. He asks us to be brave even when our knees shake. I believe deep in my bones that our founders, our leaders, our Heart family in heaven, and yes… our sweet Jane… are cheering us on. I believe they are proud of the strong women they raised, who refuse to let the story end in devastation, but choose to write a new chapter.

Will this summer be emotional? Oh heavens, yes. Will I cry on Opening Day and Closing Day? Probably ugly cry. More than once. Will there be bumps? Most likely. Will it feel unfamiliar? Yep. But that is ok. That is how growth works. That is how resilience is built. That is exactly what Jane taught us.

So here is my heart’s plea to my Heart girls, my counselors, my campers, my friends, my camp family: Come with open minds. Come with open hearts. Come not to “compare” or “test the waters,” but to build, to love, to plant new roots, to believe in goodness, to choose excitement even when grief still sits beside us.

And to those who cannot come back, who feel like their Heart chapter has closed… please know I love you too. No judgment. No guilt. Just love and gratitude for every summer we shared.

I am excited. Truly. Peacefully excited. I cannot wait to see girls I missed so deeply last year, especially my second term girls I grieved not seeing. I cannot wait to love on you, laugh with you, serve with you, and watch God write beauty from ashes once again. Because no matter where we land, Heart of the Hills is still Heart of the Hills. The name is not changing. The mission is not changing. The love is not changing.

It may look different. It may feel different. But it will still be home.

Home is not a place. Home is the people who choose to show up, love deeply, serve faithfully, and create magic together. This year… let’s walk forward with open hearts, open minds, and a whole lot of faith.

New beginnings may be hard, but they are also sacred. And I believe with everything in me… this is a blessed new beginning.

It will always be our Heart of the Hills.

And together… we will make this new place home.

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

Isaiah 43:19

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 34:18