About Nacole



Hey there. I’m Nacole and boy am I honored you chose to stop by and read and to come here, to get to know me. If you are reading this, then we are already kindred in some way, and I’m thankful for a wild God that is crazy about me and you, and He holds us together. I believe this with all my heart.

I’m a noncomformist, artist, day- dreamer, and fashion-loving southern mom of four girls, lover to one good, steady, car-building, art-creating man. We live our days roaming the backyard in the sunshine by day and cackling around the kitchen by night, where I am convinced romance is still alive, because out of the blue, he likes to reach out and give me a playful love-tap as I walk by {I think you know what I mean *wink*}. We try to have supper around the table, but if I have learned anything in thirty-five years, it’s this: I am a depraved human being, and I will never attain the energy I wish I had until I reach Heaven, where I am sure God will let me do somersaults and rock-climb celestial mountains. A lot of nights, we all fall asleep, huddled on the couch together, and I carry them one by one to the bed, their golden-wheat heads barely peeking above the covers. But sometimes I get to read bedtime stories.  Each and every one of these moments lend inspiration to my pen, or the clicking of the keyboard. And it’s true–before anything is published, you’ll usually find me outside, furiously writing in slanted cursive in a cheap composition notebook.

We call home the Deep South, in Hickory, MS to be exact, where I fight to believe that people of all races, backgrounds and lifestyles are beautifully human. We have a white picket fence that needs painting, a gorgeous back yard that turns into muddy swamp in winter, art projects scattered all around the house, and the laundry often walks down my steps, randomly strewn about, before it makes its way into my washer.

I am by no means perfect, and I call myself a Jesus-follower, avid reader and introvert, although I know I don’t always care about Jesus like I should, I don’t read as often as I’d like, and I can be very friendly and loud around others. I adore spending weekends with books in the hammock or running around the lake. I’m honest to a fault, and preferring deep conversations to small talk, I usually end up speaking straight to the elephant in the room–though I don’t realize I’m doing it.

A lover of the hurting, the shunned, and the un-churched, I’m convinced Jesus was serious when he said he came for the sick. Stuffing the sacred just doesn’t cut it–no, if I’m going to share or write, I believe it should be without piety or lofty, empty words–and so my words often edge toward the radical, the raw, and the real.

I believe in the Niacene Creed, in country living and rock n roll. That God was in the beginning, that He wrapped the Word in flesh, that He came here, amongst us and lived a sinless life, and died and rose again for our freedom. This is the true gospel–that we are free, that God loves everyone, and that leaves no one out. I believe He speaks to me, and He speaks to you, and He can say two totally different things, because we are uniquely and individually pursuing relationship with Him. I’m constantly amazed at grace chasing me down, and how God is everywhere, even outside the church’s four walls.

For the first time in my life, I just may be finally learning what it truly means to live free. This is holy ground, and you are invited along for the journey. Kick your shoes off; I want to conversate with you over hot tea or wine. And if you pop a top on a beer, I won’t mind that either, as long as you share.


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