breath of life handmade greeting card even if

Even If Card Pack

$9.99

 
Our Even If creations feature the solemn, yet hopeful sentiment that “even if” things don’t go the way we want or plan, our God is good and our God can be trusted.

Greeting cards measure 5 1/2″ x 4 1/4″ (A2) and are printed on bright white coated cardstock for vibrant color and smooth writing. Scripture referenced in design is written in full, with address and translation used, on back, and small Breath of Life Handmade logo underneath it. Blank inside. Available in packs of 10 with white, self-sealing envelopes and Breath of Life Handmade sticker fasteners included.

Lastly, these greeting cards are genuinely handmade. Each pack is made-to-order, and digitally designed, printed, cut, and folded by hand by yours truly! So please have grace for minor imperfections or inconsistencies you might find ♥

 

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Greeting Card FAQs

Stone paper, also sometimes referred to as rock paper or mineral paper, is different from the paper most are accustomed to in that it’s made of limestone instead of wood pulp. This gives it unique qualities, like a velvety smooth texture (I often say it’s like writing on butter), as well as water and tear resistance. It is also rumored to be more economically-friendly, as it doesn’t damage anything living to create.

I do not. There are times when that has almost stopped me from continuing this adventure, because I want to operate in integrity in all that I do. A sweet friend recently encouraged me though, “You paint with words”, which is the true heartbeat behind everything at Breath of Life Handmade. As a result, the artwork used is pieced together through Canva, or in rare cases when what I envision in my mind isn’t available in their database, I’ll use their Magic Media generation app.

All writings within this site, however, are AI-free and my own.

At this time, it’s not possible to purchase loose leaf stone paper, unless I source it from one of its original locations in Lithuania or Sweden. So, the alternative is to purchase the pre-assembled notebooks by Oxford, disassemble them, and reassemble them with my covers and bindings. Currently, these journals cost just under $8 each, and that’s just for the paper alone! Additionally, everything is truly handcrafted, which takes time.

My personal favorites are ball points. The writing is smooth, clear, and rich. Gel pens, in my experience, tend to skip on the pages and take a long time to dry, if they ever do at all. Highlighters also take a while to dry, so I recommend writing everything you need to first, then going back and highlighting when you have a few minutes to let it sit.

My absolute favorite pens, that have translated so well from wood pulp to stone paper, are a new spin on an old classic, the BIC 4 Color Retractable Ballpoint. I particularly love that pack because it features not only the traditional black, blue, red, and green, but also pink, purple, orange, yellow, lime, and teal. And for highlighters, my go-tos are these Sharpie Clear View Highlighter Sticks. (Neither are affiliate links. Just high recommendations!)

As understandably inconvenient as it can be, Daughter Heartmade is currently a home-based solo gig (with the help of my handsome when I need him!), where we live up to the promise of “handmade” in every stretch of the imagination. Additionally, we battle the uncertainties of daily living with a chronic illness. So we have found that realistically, the turnaround time for creating orders is 3-5 days, and we always contact the buyer in full transparency if we suspect it’s going to be longer.

As for shipping, we prefer to use USPS Priority Mail because of their reasonable rates and their history of having packages, even cross-country, delivered within 2-3 days. However, we strive to make sure you always have a more cost effective (although possibly longer) option, should you choose.

Absolutely! If you live and/or work within the Lindale/Tyler proper area, we are more than happy to schedule a meet up to hand off your order to save you shipping time and cost.

 

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breath of life handmade greeting card even ifEven If Card Pack
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Blessed + Highly Favored | Luke 1:28

Blessed and highly favored.

What do we, as followers of Christ, expect that to look like in our lives?

Do we expect it to mean a life void of suffering and trouble? A life where we get the spouse, the house, the career, the notoriety, and the relationships we believe we deserve? A life where we’re supernaturally protected from every wile of this world? A life where every dream and every desire we’ve ever imagined comes true?

In the Gospel of Luke, we meet a young girl who is greeted by an Angel of the Lord as “highly favored by God”. (1:28) “The Lord is with you!” he exclaims to Mary, before telling her she’s been chosen to mother the Savior of all mankind.

So what did Mary’s life look like?

Pregnant as an unwed teenage girl in a culture that already despised women. Shamed. Shunned. Labeled liar and adulteress far before she knew a man. Scorned. Misunderstood. Somewhere along the way, a single mother. And eventually, a mother who was forced to watch as her precious and perfect Son was brutally mocked, beaten, and murdered for the salvation of a callous people who begged for His death.

Call me idealistic… But none of that is included in my dream of what the abundant life looks like. None of it mirrors what so many of us strive for as we seek the comfort and contentment of living our best lives now.

And yet, her life isn’t far removed from the challenges the apostles faced as well. In fact, upon studying the lives of those who walked most closely with Jesus in the flesh, we learn it was not that they didn’t suffer…

It was that they did suffer, but they suffered well.

I don’t know what you’re going through today as you read this sentiment. You may be on top of the world at the moment, in a refreshing season of harvest and of basking in the beauty of life.

Or you may know that you know that you know you’re a son or a daughter of the One True King, yet “blessed and highly favored” for you right now might look like all hell is breaking loose around you.

As I write this, I sit in a precious season of catching my breath. My fight over the past five years has been one of seven two-week hospitalizations to treat complications surrounding the chronic lung disease Cystic Fibrosis, the autoimmune condition Pernicious Anemia, and a uterine cyst the size of a six month pregnancy. Physical ailments aside, it’s also been a season of tremendous grief while losing homes, churches, friends, and family after leaving multiple facets of abuse behind. To say that there have been more days than not of forcing myself to get out of bed would be an understatement. And if I’m being really real, for a long time “God is good!” was an adage my lips often uttered, but I don’t know I truly believed until I finally began to summit this mountain and gaze behind me.

But now… Now I can say with full confidence that my God is good. My God is faithful. My God is patient and kind and unwavering in His carrying of me, even when I’ve least deserved it (and still do). And while I realize I’m young, and it’s unlikely I’ll never see deep travail again, I know there is a day awaiting me, and all who bear the name of Jesus Christ, when I’ll know of nothing but His life, His love, and His light, untainted and indestructible, for all of eternity’s time.

Whatever our present portion, may we be of good cheer. Because if there is one thing I’ve learned in over forty years of affliction, it’s that His favor is rarely the avoidance of the fire…

It’s “The Lord is with you!” within it.

© Farrel DeBaltzo | July 4, 2023

Strength Through Surrender | Joshua 1:9

In the book of Joshua, the LORD passes the anointing from Moses onto Joshua and promises him that He will be with him wherever he goes, if he will only be “strong and courageous”.

I long thought this verse meant to push aside your fears, “cowboy up”, and charge into battle. Trust Him in all our ways, and we will be successful whichever way we turn.

While that concept is partially true, how the story plays out in the passages that follow aren’t exactly what we imagine when the phrase gets used in our culture today.

Joshua, a victorious and seasoned warrior, is charged with leading the entire nation of his brethren across the Jordan River and into the Promised Land of Canaan, where giant grapes (and giant people) await him.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous!”…

I have heard the emphasis put on the latter part, when in context of time and place, I think Joshua may have heard the word “command” and been reminded of the previous years of his life that he spent at the foot of a mountain, and in the wilderness, learning about who his God really is; and the commands that were given to become the chosen people of God… A different kind of nation… A nation of Priests sent to make the LORD’s name known.

The stories ahead of this powerful moment in Scripture include God supernaturally damming up the Jordan; God re-consecrating His people through circumcision and “rolling away their reproach from Egypt”; and God asking His people not to charge into battle on the city that lie ahead, but to march around it for a few days, blowing trumpets and singing, to which God responded by miraculously causing the walls of a fortified city to crumble without a sword to be lifted.

In the end, the “be strong and courageous” command had nothing to do with the physical strength of Joshua, but his ability to trust and follow through on the seemingly ridiculous set of requests, while the LORD made things happen.

Don’t get me wrong — Joshua had his part in all of those moments. Step into a “flooded” river while thousands of people watch on, and trust that the flow will cease? Take a knife to the foreskin of all the males, and that will clear you of your past failures and prepare you for what lies ahead? You’re telling me the mighty warrior Joshua isn’t to lift a sword against the nation of giants, but to send out the worship team and stand guard around them instead?

In the end, courage only happens in the face of fear, whether it be real, life-threatening danger, or perceived danger that just makes you look foolish to outsiders.

But the charge I now take from this story is that no matter how ridiculous the thing God is asking me to do is, I know that being chosen looks radically different.

© Zack DeBaltzo | May 31, 2024

Healed | Isaiah 53:5

The co-existence of chronic illness or handicap and Christianity is a tension many circles of faith don’t believe belongs. Well-intentioned healing ministries have sprouted up left and right over the last few decades, desperate to work alongside God in bringing healing of heart, mind, and body to His people in the here and now.

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve seen Jesus miraculously heal the physical ailments of some and the psychological ailments of others. I’ve watched Him extend lives that were told they would never see certain milestones come to pass – Myself included. I’ve been the recipient of His grace and healing mercies numerous times while hospitalized for Cystic Fibrosis, a life-threatening lung disease I was born with, even bouncing back from full-on respiratory failure in December of 2022.

But without fail, I have witnessed strong and faithful followers of the Way, the Truth, and the Life succumb to the physical law of death within our broken world. And though my severity of suffering indeed ebbs and flows with seasons and circumstances, I have yet to see my DNA fully healed. I’ll be the first to admit also I don’t understand why.

In Isaiah 53, we find one of the most beautiful and well-known promises in all of Scripture: By His wounds we are healed. (53:5) Many grasp this declaration as a guarantee of physical completeness this side of Glory, and as a result, I have been told more times than I can count that my living with CF is a direct result of a lack of real faith. That CF is demonic, an entity on my bloodline that needs deliverance, and because I still battle it, I must secretly want it there. That with every fervent request for healing that I or others utter, we slap Christ in the face and tell Him what He’s already done isn’t enough. And the darkest night He has brought me out of to date: That my lack of victory over CF brings my salvation, and my belonging to Him altogether, into question.

For a while, I believed these things to be true, and I lived under the shame and constant pressure of trying to muster up “enough” faith to be made well on my own… Until one precious morning, when I awoke heavy-hearted once again over what had become an all-too-familiar instance of being prayed over to “just believe” that by His wounds, I was healthy. His tender mercy of holy curiosity led me to pick up my study tools and search out Isaiah 53:5 for myself. And what I found freed me:

“To pardon; ‘There was healing to us,’ i.e. ‘God pardoned us.’” (Strong’s H7495: Gesenius’ Hebrew-Chaldee Lexicon)

The more I studied, the more I understood this to be the preeminent promise echoed throughout the pages of Scripture. Passages like Exodus 15:26, James 5:16, and so many others testify to ultimate healing that transcends temporary and brings hope no matter our physical circumstances. And I also understood that when we extract circumstantial healing as the whole of it, we rob it of its true power and magnificence, and leave those suffering in confusion and despair.

But make no mistake – This tweak in comprehension doesn’t take away from the promise. It deepens it, enriches it, and solidifies it, from this life to the next.

Now, gaining ever-increasing levels of passion and gratitude for just how perfectly enough He is is the wholeness I aspire to. In the past, I’ve responded by either playing possum until the moment of confrontation passed, or by exploding in defense of my faith. Now, I recognize true freedom is rooted in surrender. In recognizing He is God and I am not. In searching for the plethora of beauty, even amidst the ashes. And in knowing my identity, faith, joy, and peace have zero connection to my body not having gotten the memo that it’s out of sync with ultimate reality right now. An ultimately reality I can picture in my heart and feel in my bones. An ultimate reality that, because of my Jesus’ wounds, I find great hope in looking forward to living out for eternity.

Within this design bears my choice to publicly stand up for not only myself, but believers everywhere who question their place in the Kingdom because of a misunderstood narrative. One that tells us that because we often find our lives under the heavy hand of affliction, we’re less mature and less favored and altogether doing the “faith thing” wrong.

May this help someone breathe again. May this help someone believe again. May this make prayers for not only our physical suffering to cease allowable, but prayers for the “even if” as well. And may it assure someone that our bodies can be broken until the moment we meet Him in Glory, yet we can still be healed in all of the ways that matter most.

Shalom ♥

© Farrel DeBaltzo | May 20, 2023

Refresh | Acts 3:19

Repentance has become a somewhat scary word in our Christian culture today. But in the days when Jesus walked our earth, it was everything they never knew they were craving. In Acts 3, Peter witnesses to an awestruck crowd who was hungry for change, and boldly proclaims, “Repent, therefore, and turn back, so that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord.” (3:19)

When we zoom in and take a deeper look into the “times of refreshing” Peter references, we learn the literal translation from the Greek to be “recovery of breath; revival” (Strong’s Concordance G403). A beautiful concept, to be sure. But when we dive even deeper, and couple it with Paul’s promises in 2 Corinthians and Ephesians that we are gifted with the Holy Spirit – the same ruach elohim of the Old Covenant, just in a new tongue – once we surrender our lives to Christ, we realize that the very breath our Father animated Adam’s flesh with thousands of years ago in the Garden, and the very same vibrant intimacy and relationship he and Eve knew pre-fall, miraculously become our own.

How’s that for an inhale?!

But even 2000 years later, we are not so far removed from an abundance of the same cold and heartless religion that blinded God’s people, confused His followers, and robbed repentance of its beauty. Of its rest. And of the simple, yet remarkable understanding of what living reconciled to our Abba truly means. Religion has twisted Scripture and paired repentance with shame, fear, and a ticket out of hell, rather than a life-giving invitation to breathe again and to return to what we were created for. And religion has taught us that Jesus died to make bad people good, when in truth, Jesus died to bring dead people to life.

Water refreshes the thirsty.

Bread refreshes the hungry.

Peace refreshes the anxious.

Rest refreshes the weary.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus refers to Himself as all of these, and more! How refreshing it is to know that because of Him, living – not merely existing – can be our reality, even in the chaos of everyday life. Only then do we understand why of the two sisters, Jesus promised that Mary held the better portion.

Breathe in life. Breathe out love. Every day.

It’s what we were made for ♥

© Farrel DeBaltzo | March 15, 2023

Daughter | Mark 5:34

As the 2018 seasons melted one into another – From the frigid winter air that constricted my airways, to the Goliath-sized allergies spring ushered in; from the humidity of the sweltering summer months, to the dramatic fall into, well, fall – Repercussions of cystic fibrosis induced lung infections, sinus surgeries, and my battle weary 5’3” 92lb frame acted as constant reminders of just how feeble my body is on its own.

It was in the exhaustion of waking up every morning to debilitating muscle and bone aches. It was in the heaviness of every inhale. It was in my doubt that when it came to my day-to-day living for Christ, I would ever be good enough, fast enough, or strong enough to bring glory to His name. It was in the nights I sobbed myself to sleep because I’d lost sight of His promise that healing, in His way and in His time, would come.

And then I would see her. I would see her faith. Her desperation. Her strength and her resilience and her determination. I would see her telling herself, as she recalled the stories of others who had been rescued from their plight, “If I can just touch Him… If I can just reach the hem of His garment… Just let me get close enough to touch Him…”

I saw her wrapping herself in her shawl, her mind racing with tremendous faith and fear, as she hurried down the street, desperate to not miss Him. I saw her standing on her tiptoes, watching the crowd for their reaction that He was near. I saw her riding the waves of dozens around her as He came into focus, and they began shoving their way toward Him. I saw her trip and fall, shielding herself from being trampled and kicked as others stumbled over her in return. I saw her face set like flint as she forced herself to crawl, completely devoid now of worry about what others might think, or what might happen if He didn’t come through. And then suddenly, I saw a spark of pure tenacity in her eyes as she spotted her opportunity and lunged, her prayers now answered in the healing upon her fingertips.

When we back up to Mark 5:29, Scripture tells us, “Instantly her flow of blood ceased, and she sensed in her body that she was healed of her affliction.” What it must have felt like, after more than a decade, to instantly be well! To instantly be free! To instantly realize that the life she could only remember in her dreams was once again her reality.

But as soon as her miracle was upon her, so was the enemy with a new tactic: Fear. Mark 5:30 says that in that same instant, Jesus knew power had gone out from Him, and He asked, “Who touched me?” In response, she fell at His feet, and in fear and trembling confessed what she’d done.

For a split second, I saw hopelessness return to her eyes. What if He wasn’t the man she’d thought He was? Heard He was? What if He hadn’t wanted her to be healed? What if she’d just stolen something that didn’t belong to her?

Instead, Christ saw her… Really saw her… And in seeing her, called out the true identity she had long forgotten: Daughter.

To us, she is most often referred to as “the bleeding woman”. To her society, she was “unclean”, and of barely more worth than livestock. But to her Savior, she was and will forever be “a daughter of God; acceptable to God, rejoicing in His peculiar care and protection” (Thayer’s Greek Lexicon: Strong’s G2364).

The healing Jesus offers is far more than just physical. It’s all-encompassing. In her case, she was healed of any pride or unbelief that might have prevented her from doing whatever it took to find Him. She was healed from the physical assault of her disease, and the shame and isolation that had been her closest companions for over a decade. And in the immediate aftermath of her miracle, she was healed of her identity crisis, and any lingering fear that Jesus may not be exactly who He said He was.

For twelve years, Abba had prepared for her to be healed. Now, it was time for her to live healed, and to make His name known for generations to come.

May we all, as His daughters, follow suit.

© Farrel DeBaltzo | March 8, 2022

Chayil | Proverbs 31:29

Chayil. (Khah’yil.)

The first time I heard this beautiful Hebrew word in April of 2014, something about it resonated deep within me. As a baby conceived with Cystic Fibrosis – a life-threatening genetic illness that pegged my life expectancy at around 8 years old – I was, quite literally, born a fighter. However, CF was only the first of many fires awaiting me in this lifetime, and as a result, I spent the better part of ten years self-destructing in every way imaginable, determined that if I was going to die young, I was going to have a heck of a time doing it.

So when I was introduced to the marrow of chayil while deep in the trenches of my rock bottom… And I learned the black and white of it to be “excellence” and “valor”… My shame and unbelief found it easy to shrug off.

What I failed to understand then was that chayil isn’t something we muster up on our own. It knows no separation from, and is entirely dependent upon, our relationship with our Abba. And in time, we learn that to be a woman of chayil is to be a woman of innately-driven excellence. Strength. Beauty. And honor.

It is quiet courage and confidence that knows it doesn’t have to roar to make a difference, or shove its way into the spotlight to be heralded.

It is borne in the hard and holy and hidden places of our hearts. Places that are steeped in the value of being before doing, and that understand why Jesus promised that Mary held the better portion.

It is fully recognizing that we hold both the sword and its victory in our hands, yet still kneeling before Him and asking Him how to wield it.

It is a war cry, a desperate reminder of who and whose we are when the fight in front of us feels too big… Because most of the time, it is. And we should never be ashamed to admit we don’t have what it takes without Him.

It’s bold. It’s counter-cultural. It’s often mistaken for weakness, and almost always viewed as insane.

But that’s OK. So was our Jesus.

The essence of chayil is most often depicted as a fierce warrior woman. If I’m honest, that’s what I had in mind myself when I sat down to render this image. But as it began to come more and more alive, I realized He was driving home the heart of where our excellence, courage, and strength truly come from: Our union with Him.

Daughter of God, if this all seems intimidating to you, take heart, because you were made for this. The walk of a godly woman isn’t easy… It goes against every societal norm we’re taught, it draws mockers and critics, it costs us close friendships, and it consistently forces us to shed our comfort zones and step into the unknown, where tensions can be high but our Greatest Prize is higher. And by His grace, we come to realize we have nothing to fear. Because we’ve been bought with a price and adopted into His army to overcome lies with Truth, fear with faith, hatred with hospitality, and bitter with forgive. We weren’t made to give the world a piece of our minds, but a piece of His heart. And we were created to help heal, and leave this world that we’re in, but not of, in better shape than we found it.

Expect difficulties. Expect attacks. Expect setbacks, to be sure.

But more importantly, expect victory. Expect freedom. And expect to know the love and companionship of the God of the universe… Who is somehow also our personal Lord and Savior… Who is somehow also our Father who bends low to hear His children cry… So deeply that we shine His radiance from the inside out.

It will feel impossible at times, but that’s why He made us warriors.

That’s why He made us women of chayil.

© Farrel DeBaltzo | January 3, 2023

Love > Fear

There are two diametrically opposed choices we’re faced with every day, multiple times a day, as human beings: Life and Death.

They are driven by two diametrically opposed forces: Love and Fear.

And of them are borne two diametrically opposed realities: Light and Darkness.

They can not co-exist. We live from one or the other.

The Greek word for “casts out” here is “ballō”, and it does not convey fear as a worthy adversary that love gently tells to bugger off. It is much more fierce, painting fear out to be worthless and a waste of time and energy. Other Scripture where this context is used is Matthew 5, when Jesus says salt that has lost its saltiness has no other fate than to tread underfoot and be thrown out; Matthew 13 when it describes fishermen sifting through their catch and throwing away the foul ones; and John 15 when Jesus invites His followers to abide in Him continuously, warning that those who refuse to will be like branches that wither and are thrown into the fire — Not as a threat, but a very real picture of what happens when we choose to cut ourselves off from Life Himself.

Fear appears daunting to us, but it doesn’t have to be. And notice it doesn’t say “authority” casts out fear, but “perfect love”. When we fix our eyes on the beauty of all Jesus is, all He has done, and all the love that drove Him to do so, there is no other logical result than for fear to disintegrate before our very hearts and eyes. He always does the heavy lifting.

There are certainly times in our human frailty when we will stumble. But at the end of the day, and the end of all days, the core of our beliefs and allegiance belongs to one or the other.

May we all who bear His name today choose Love, choose Light, and choose LIFE ♥♥♥

© Farrel DeBaltzo | April 4, 2024

Home

I grew up right outside of Lindale, Texas in blink-and-you-miss-it Garden Valley. When Dad had to leave, Mom and I relocated to a rent house her father owned in Tyler, where I spent years 10 through 20.

At age 21, I hightailed it as fast as I could out of East Texas and to Dallas, then across the country to Washington State, then back to the Dallas/Fort Worth area, then across the country in the other direction to Florida, before finally ending up back in Tyler in 2017 — A place I swore to my love, my friends, my family, and even my God I would never, ever, under any circumstances return to.

I imagine that gave Him a pretty good chuckle, considering He knew what sovereign plan He had in store for me. In His perfect grace, He let me run for a long time — 13 years, to be exact — because only He knew exactly when I would be ready to tackle my past, piece by piece, and heal from it.

And now… Just about the time I’d finally gotten used to being back in Tyler… Here Zack and I are, plunked back down in Lindale, in a home where our route in and out of civilization takes us directly through downtown. Past the old post office I reference in Love You More Than Life: A Memoir. The post office where I used to go with Dad every couple of days to check his business box. The post office that, if I had words for it, I could still describe exactly how it smelled inside. Past the brick corner store, now a guitar and gun shop, that once housed Rexall Drugs and filled my Cystic Fibrosis prescriptions as a baby. Past First Baptist Church, where I was dedicated as a newborn. Past all of the places and memories and emotions still sailor-knot-tied to a ranch and a home where another family lives and whose kiddos now play.

There is no such thing as coincidence.

Especially when it comes to redemption.

Coming home — really, truly coming home in every sense of the word — is both comforting and uncomfortable. Familiar in the best and the worst ways. Messy. Confrontational. And, in the end, utterly freeing.

Because nothing, nowhere, and No One knows you like home ♥

© Farrel DeBaltzo | February 19, 2024