Alia Joy Hagenbach
Alia Joy is a storyteller, speaker, and homeschooling mother of three making her home in Central Oregon. She shares her story in broken bits and pieces on her blog and finds community where other’s stories intersect. She's a cynical idealist who is always trying to find the beautiful bits in the midst of the messy and broken. She believes even the most broken stories have a redeemer and she'll always dance to the good songs. She is a regular contributor at (in)courage, SheLoves, The Mudroom, and Deeper Waters and can be found on twitter hashtagging all the things, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and making goo-goo eyes at her husband.
8 posts
When Everything Feels Too Frivolous or Too Urgent

I’ve been mostly absent from social media for the past few months. I come and go but mostly I’ve been offline trying to live into my present. Living in the now is no small task. We are a people of anticipation or we are a people of despair. As people who believe in Christ, hope is our native tongue but we often struggle to translate that language to the world....

24 3
Learning to Live the Interruptions

In the last few weeks my heart has taken to skipping beats again. The lub dub lub dub that pounds faithfully hour after hour now has a new rhythm. Like a jump start, a thick thud lands in my chest, sometimes making me cough like someone has thumped their first against my sternum. I had tests done a couple years ago when this first started happening. Blood work, EKG’s and...

16 5
Take Time to Savor and Be Filled

Sometimes I think my tastebuds have failed me. That in the midst of the everyday I have failed to savor. That the rush and appetites of my life have more to do with frantic filling than with letting the aroma of the good things settle on my tongue and linger.  I bulge at the seams of this overstuffed pace. The frantic tyranny of what must be done. I have never...

21 6
When Honesty is Our Invitation

I answer the door in sweatpants and a raggedy old t-shirt. I have three-day unshowered hair scooped up and pulled into a haphazard bun, greasy strands escaping the restraints of my elastic rubber band. I don’t have to swipe lipgloss on or part my lips in a smile. I don’t have to make small talk, I just unhinge the lock and swing the door open without hiding behind it. I...

15 4
The Hospitality of Marriage: Loving Like It’s New

When I hang his shirts next to mine in the closet, there are surf brands, the same ones he wore when he had hair bleached white by the sun and waves. When his skin was tan and his mouth tasted like wintergreeen gum and saltwater. When I spread my beach towel with my arms wide and the tradewinds swooped down and lifted the corners from my fingertips like a magic...

57 10
For All Who Hurt with Nothing Left

I was a week past deadline on this post. I sat at the keyboard for two days straight while fever swallowed up my hours and I mopped up my nose with a growing pile of tissues, gathering like soggy clouds in my wastebasket. And my fingers hovered over the keys. Backspace gobbled up my words faster than I could get them down and I must have started five or six...

43 10
When Hollowed and Holy Quiet Speaks Loudest

We’re sitting in the glow of neon, the golden arches casting pale yellow and red on the asphalt where we’re parked. I’m sipping iced tea even thought it’s cold and we’re clutched by winters deep spell, flurries scattering around outside haphazardly lacking the stamina to collect themselves on the ground. The windshield wiper swipes at them randomly streaking the window with frost. I’ve pulled my hat down low over my...

37 0
Come Weary: An Advent Invitation

Advent is here. We are straining forward each day with anticipation. But still, this season of darkness and yearning is upon me. The early day’s sun retreats leaving a smattering of white twinkling lights strung in rows across the tree like fingerprints. The candle’s flesh is melting down its sides like shedding skin and it flickers like a great hope in the darkness. I can’t help but feel my depression...

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