The Open Chair Project

“A space for stories, reflections, and redemption.”

  • Lunch Date

    I had one of those rare, meaningful conversations over lunch today. The kind where you leave feeling a little lighter, a little clearer, and a lot more aware of the rooms you’ve been waiting to enter.

    It wasn’t about answers or big decisions. It was about perspective.

    As I listened, I recognized familiar words and questions—questions I’ve asked myself and still revisit from time to time:

    Am I doing enough?
    Will it matter if I’m not here?
    Have I earned my place at the table?

    I didn’t see the person across from me as someone to fix or advise. I saw a fellow traveler on this journey of growth. And I saw a reflection of the future me I’m working toward: someone who no longer waits for perfect timing, or full confidence, to take the next step.

    The conversation was a reminder of the power of meeting with people who want to see you grow. People who believe in your potential and gently nudge you to unlock the doors you’ve been standing outside of, telling yourself “Not yet. Maybe when I’m more ready.”

    The truth is, growth rarely feels perfectly timed. It feels uncertain. Messy. But it happens when we choose to move forward anyway.

    Today’s lunch was a gift: a chance to remember that sometimes we are further along than we give ourselves credit for—and that the next room we’re meant to enter is waiting for us to simply turn the knob.

  • To Lead or Not to Lead – spoiler, you are leading now.


    Lead Well

    By Kristie Phillips | The Open Chair

    Somewhere along the way, many of us picked up the idea that in order to lead, we had to be perfect.
    Flawless habits. Flawless choices. Flawless emotions.
    But the longer I walk this journey, the more clearly I see the truth:

    Leadership doesn’t require perfection. It requires integrity.

    Integrity isn’t about having all the answers or getting it right every time.
    It’s about choosing to live in a way that your private journey and your public message are moving in the same direction.

    Not matching perfectly.
    Not without stumbles or slow days.
    But aligned with honesty, effort, and grace.

    This realization hit me especially hard recently.
    In conversations with the people closest to me—my husband, my family—I felt the weight of their observations.
    Where they saw inconsistency, I felt shame.
    Where they questioned my habits, I questioned my right to lead.

    But here’s what I’m learning:

    When you are in a season of becoming, you will feel the gap between who you are and who you are becoming.
    That gap isn’t disqualification—it’s evidence of growth.

    If you’re honest enough to see the space between your ideal and your reality—and you’re willing to keep moving toward integrity—you are already leading well.

    You don’t have to fake perfection to be a leader worth following.
    You just have to keep choosing:

    • To show up with humility
    • To own your growth areas without hiding
    • To keep aligning your daily choices with your deeper mission

    Because leadership that demands perfection becomes heavy, brittle, and distant.
    But leadership rooted in integrity—raw, honest, imperfect integrity—is magnetic. It draws people toward hope. Toward possibility. Toward their own courage to grow.

    If you feel the tension between who you are and who you’re called to be—you’re not failing.
    You’re becoming.

    Keep leading.
    Keep becoming.
    And remember: Integrity is enough.

    Thanks for reading today’s reflection from The Open Chair. If this resonated with you, I’d love for you to share it or leave a comment. Let’s keep building a space where real leadership—and real growth—can thrive.

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  • Coach or to not coach

    I hired a coach.

    Not because I’m lost.
    Not because I’m broken.
    But because I’m growing—and I don’t want to outgrow my clarity.

    As a coach, I spend my days helping others find their voice, step into their seat, and lead with purpose. But I’ve come to learn something sacred: even the guide needs guidance.

    Even the chair I sit in—this open chair I talk about so often—requires reflection, alignment, and intentional stewardship. I can’t lead others into the deep if I’m afraid to go there myself.

    Getting a coach isn’t a sign of weakness.
    It’s a sign of commitment.

    It says:
    “I believe in what I’m building.”
    “I value transformation enough to invest in my own.”
    “I’m willing to be stretched, refined, and challenged—because the people I serve deserve the best of me, not what’s left of me.”

    This is not just a step in my business.
    It’s a seat I’m choosing to take in my own story.

    A front-row seat to the uncomfortable.
    The brave.
    The becoming.

    Because I’m not just building a coaching business—I’m building a life that reflects my values, my faith, and my call to serve with excellence.

    So if you’ve been feeling the nudge—if you’ve been circling your own growth, wondering if now is the time—this is your invitation.

    ✨ The chair is open. It always has been.
    And I’d be honored to walk with you as you take your seat.

    Let’s start your journey—one step, one conversation, one courageous “yes” at a time.

  • You’re Closer Than You Think

    Some days, the finish line feels a mile away.
    And other days, like today, you get the rare gift of looking back and realizing—you’ve come further than you ever imagined.

    Today was one of those days for me.

    I’ve spent months dreaming, writing, wrestling, and refining. Page by page, I’ve poured my heart into something bigger than just a book. It’s a movement. A reminder. A chair. A table. An invitation.

    And here’s what I know to be true: success rarely looks like fireworks.
    It looks like showing up.
    It looks like choosing presence over perfection.
    It looks like one ordinary day stacked on top of another until—suddenly—it’s extraordinary.

    If you’re working on something right now (a dream, a decision, a new beginning), and you’re wondering if it’s worth it—let me speak this over you:

    You’re closer than you think.

    Keep writing.
    Keep healing.
    Keep creating space.
    Keep building what God whispered to your heart.

    You don’t need to have it all figured out to be faithful.
    You just have to keep showing up.

    So wherever you are today—whether you’re typing your first paragraph or wrapping a project that’s taken years—I see you. And I’m cheering you on.

    Let’s keep making space for each other.

    The chair is still open.

  • Be Positive Things

    Inspired by the words of Keecia Rouse

    “Be positive things and trust the Word of God. Stay faithful in all things. He will bring to pass what you believe Him for.”

    When Keecia said these words, they stopped me in my tracks—not because they were flashy or poetic, but because they were rooted in something deeper: faith anchored in truth. We live in a world where it’s easy to say nice things but harder to be them, to live them out when life gets uncomfortable, unclear, or delayed.

    But that’s where faithfulness meets us.

    There’s a verse tucked away in the Old Testament that speaks directly to the season of waiting—the tension between believing and seeing.

    “For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie.
    If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.”
    — Habakkuk 2:3 (ESV)

    God gave this word to the prophet Habakkuk in a time of deep frustration and injustice. The prophet cried out, asking why evil seemed to prosper, and God’s reply was simple: Wait. Trust. The vision will come.

    How often do we stand in that same space? Waiting on the healing. Praying for the breakthrough. Hoping for restoration. We whisper promises back to ourselves—not because we’re trying to manifest something, but because we’re clinging to what God has already said.

    “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.”
    — Hebrews 10:23 (ESV)

    The hope we have is not fragile. It’s not rooted in outcomes or feelings. It’s anchored in a faithful God.

    Abraham understood this. When everything around him said impossible, his faith said God is able. Romans 4 reminds us that “he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.” (Romans 4:20-21)

    And maybe that’s our invitation today:
    To be the positive thing in a negative world.
    To trust the Word of God—not just the parts that make us feel good, but the ones that stretch us.
    To stay faithful in all things, even when the outcome hasn’t shown up yet.

    Because He will bring it to pass. Not always how we expect, and rarely on our timeline—but always in His way, in His time, and for our good.

    So today, friend, I challenge you the same way Keecia challenged me:
    Be the thing you’re hoping for. Be light. Be peace. Be faith. And above all, be anchored in the One who is always faithful.

    🪑 Reflection from The Open Chair:
    In this space, we make room for real conversations and honest hope. So today, take a moment to sit with this:

    What are you waiting on God to bring to pass?
    What does “being positive things” look like for you in this season?

    Pull up your own “open chair” and reflect—He meets us there, right in the middle of the waiting.

    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
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  • Full Circle of Grace

    The School, the Stage, and the Story In Between

    In 2010, I followed a vision that had been stirring in my heart for years—I started a K–12 school. It wasn’t just a job or a dream project; it was a calling. I poured everything into it: my time, my creativity, my faith, and my heart. The school became a place of learning, growth, laughter, and music. I can still remember the joy on the little ones’ faces during our preschool plays, the way their voices lifted in song, and the pride in their parents’ eyes.

    But the story didn’t stay on the mountaintop. Life got complicated. My marriage was struggling. I made decisions that hurt people I loved and compromised the integrity of what I had built. Before the consequences unraveled completely, I made the painful decision to resign. Not because I didn’t love the school—I did with all my heart—but because I wanted to protect it. I couldn’t let my personal failures cast a shadow over what had been built. Walking away broke something in me. I lost not just a position, but a piece of my identity.

    Years passed. Healing has been slow and layered. God has been faithful, even in the mess. Grace found me—not the polished, churchy kind, but the gritty, tender kind that meets you in the ashes and quietly says, “Let’s begin again.”

    Today, out of the blue, a teacher who once worked with me at that school called. She asked if I would make a piano recording for the preschool plays. My heart jumped. She could’ve asked anyone, but she asked me. I knew she couldn’t ask me to come play live—maybe out of respect for the past or a desire to protect the present—but still, she asked. Without hesitation, I said yes. I even offered to record all three plays if she brings the music.

    It was such a simple request, but it carried so much weight. It felt like a full-circle moment. I won’t be standing on the stage. I won’t be directing the show. But I’ll be there—in the music, in the memories, in the gentle return to a place I once had to leave.

    It made me think of Little Bo Peep—the nursery rhyme we all know. She lost her sheep and didn’t know where to find them. But the story says they’ll come home, wagging their tails behind them. I used to think that line was just about sheep or silliness. But maybe it’s also about grace. Maybe the things we lose—whether they’re roles, relationships, or parts of ourselves—aren’t always gone for good. Maybe, in time, some of them circle back to us. Not in the same form, but in a redemptive one.

    This is what redemption looks like sometimes. Not flashy. Not headline-worthy. Just one quiet note after another, a thread of grace weaving through the story.

    And I’m learning that God doesn’t waste anything—not even our worst chapters.

    Welcome to The Open Chair. This is my story. What’s yours?

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  • The Story That Opened the Chair

    There’s a chair I’ve been sitting in for a long time.

    Sometimes in silence. Sometimes in surrender. Sometimes in resistance.

    And then, one morning, I started writing. And the weight I didn’t even know I’d been carrying started to lift.

    I realized that my story wasn’t finished. It was unfolding. And more importantly—it was colliding with grace in ways I never expected.

    This blog—The Open Chair—isn’t about performance or perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about showing up. It’s about sitting for a moment, then standing with purpose.

    Maybe you’ve felt stuck. Maybe you’re searching. Maybe you’re leading others while secretly needing someone to lead you.

    Wherever you are—there’s a seat for you here.

    You’re not just welcome here. You’re needed here.

    The chair has always been waiting.

  • My Spot

    We have been in our house for almost 8 months. Last year this time (spring) this house was just a frame – we would walk this house and pray in almost every space. We had our family come in and pray in the areas where we planned to have future guests. We had friends pray in several rooms. Most importantly, we prayed and dedicated these spaces to The Lord. We wanted to have a home that we could share. A home that would be a place for others to come and feel comfort. – This porch has already had so many good conversations – so much laughter, a few tears, and a lot of love poured out.

    But this is MY spot. This is where I am able to get alone but I don’t feel alone. The fresh air, birds chirping, and sounds of the littles down the way playing is perfect harmony to my ears. Sometimes I just sit, sometimes I write, but most times I’m reading. Lately, this is my meeting room with God.

    I want to be a morning person so badly. I hear it’s how people get the most done. I try and try, but after a few days – I’m just so tired that I have trouble staying focused. Last night we picked up the table and chairs, that are pictured, from a friend and placed in my space. I sat outside last night and read from the Word and wrote a little and prayed Thanksgiving for all the blessings God has given to us.

    This morning I wrote my tribe of ladies that I have found my spot. This morning, even though I did not go and sit outside – I’ve just finished telling y’all that I’m not a morning person, so know that I was running out the door to get to work on time – I was able to smile real big, and this is why…

    This is the spot – this is my meeting room with Jesus. You see, we still work together all day long, but this right here is our spot and I know it is (He is) with me wherever I go and is waiting for our meeting time with just as much excitement as I am. Do you have a spot?

  • Blah Blah Blahs

    Photo by Ann H on Pexels.com

    Do you ever get the “blahs”? Like nothing comes to you…you are waiting and maybe even digging in different places for inspiration.

    I had this happen…actually, it’s been happening the last few weeks. (oddly around the birth of this very blog) I took the plunge and started this blog because I wanted to share my story – a story of redemption, a transparent person, a momma, a grandma, a sister, a wife, a friend, a wanna be cook, and a Christian – not written in order of perference or priority.

    My mind seems stuck. Maybe I’m thinking too hard about what the reader will want to read. Maybe it’s time to remind myself that it doesn’t matter what others think – it’s what I know – and yet fear still steers on occassion.

    The preacher asked of us this weekend, Where do i need to trust God more? I truly believe I need to trust God more with ALL of ME!! As stated above, I still “worry” about what others think of me. If I talk too much about my faith, then I will be unrelateable….If I don’t talk enough about my faith, then I’m not authentic…If I don’t talk about my past, then I’m not transparent…If I talk too much about my past, I become the product of gossip and judgment – and the vicious cycle continues.

    Photo by Jani Tisler on Pexels.com

    Do you know or recall that satan is first found in the Bible attacking Eve’s mind? Read in Genesis 3. The serpent asked Eve a question and she answers back with her version of what God had restricted – to not even touch the tree – and the serpent just rides piggy back on her incorrect assumption. The serpent is so dramatic. – but just wait, Adam and Eve are coming with the drama big time – introduction of the first victim drama act, the blame game – no one is taking responsibility for the actions they were so sure of just moments before. Isn’t that just like us. To make excuses for why we act the way we do – or perhaps excuses for inaction. There are consequences immediately that we are still feeling today. enmity between me and the snake – for sure, pains in childbirth – check mark times two, we planted our garden this weekend (one task that actually brings joy to us now) but the work we do at our jobs to be able to eat is the toil we have now. One day we will return to the dust. Thank God there is hope in that as well.

    Our mind is a powerful thing. Set out on it’s own to wander, can be disasterous. But setting our minds on Christ and things above (eternity) – well that’s where clarity happens. So today, if I can encourage you in one thought in the midst of my rambling, trust God. Get into His Word and let His Word get into you. Just like me today, not knowing what to write – once you start you will wonder what the big deal was to getting started. James is a great book to begin with!! What are you waiting for? GO!

  • We have this treasure…

    2 Corinthians 4:7 “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourseleves”

    This verse reminds me of a statement some of my girlfriends often use after stating a difficult season or moment in life – you will hear “but God”. A lot of times that is the end. But God – silence.

    Today, I want to go further into my “but God” statement.

    Life is not easy – there can be so many requirements, so many expectations. We are individuals, with individual goals, individual strengths and weakness, and yet all strive to be liked, loved, popular, and just well in all areas of human success. That is enough to drive anxiety, depression, fear, and discouragment to burnout city. There is a solution to the madness – In pursuit of Christ all of it makes sense. There is joy. There is hope. There is peace. Is it really so simple as pursuing Christ?

    My quick answer is YES. My life proves it. Almost a decade ago, I was lying in a hospital bed where the doctors would not release me because they could not find what was wrong with me. After almost 48 hours, they had to release me and instructed me to follow up with my doctor. Months and months with blood work and no answers. Each time the blood work pointing to a different possibility. Hindsight now, I’m pretty sure the paragraph above describes the reason for my episodes of not being able to stand without fainting, inefficiencies in my blood work, and the mysterious rash that would come and go so quickly it was difficult to document. It was definetly stress related. By the way, no medical issues at all today. But God.

    I knew something had to give or I would not be around much longer. My life was actually killing me. I sat in denial for a very long time. And there were only my family (the ones I grew with, not my married family) and just a couple of true friends that kept me from being a danger to myself. I’m forevery grateful for them and sit here in tears as I type this up today. But God…I believe those individuals were in my life for that very reason, for that season.

    I started to lean back to God. I never felt alone from Him, just felt distant. I started to trust more and more each day. He was always faithful to me. It’s amazing what this season was for me. It’s really not as easy as I thought it would be to write about it. It really does not give the Holy Spirit the justice of what strength was given to me during this time.

    I’m not sure anyone can relate to what I am writing today, as I am just typing and it feels a bit like rambling. All I know, moment by moment I started trusting God more (those moments are still growing the trust for Him to this moment right now) God can handle all of our needs. He knows us. He sees us. He hears us.

    Ephesians 3:20 “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.”

    Keep leaning in. Keep trusting. We have this treasure within us doing a mighty work. Be complete in Him. It truly is the only way.