Conclusion.
Conclusion? I don’t suppose there is a conclusion. This may be the last page in the book, but it is purely a moment in time. The story doesn’t conclude here; it continues on. I’m just part of the story, part of the journey. And as I explored this God of the universe, as I came to know Him more and more…I wrote.
Thank you for taking the time to go through this thought process with me. Thank you for being part of my story, and in so doing, being part of the greatest story ever told. Thank you.
Cheering you on as you run your race with Christ.
Kaylee
May 9, 2008
How great the Father's love for us.
Good Morning y'all.
I rock babies in the Progressive Care Unit at the Carolinas Medical Center on Monday evenings. It's a beautiful thing though I must admit, there are times where I'm so exhausted by the time I get there, that I nearly rock myself to sleep (oops).
Recently, I tend to rock the same little baby girl. She's bigger than most of the babies and has been there quite a while. Last night when I got there she was already fussing (I reckon she must have known I was on my way and was calling first-dibs on my services, ha).
She had monitors hooked up on other visits, but this time she had a feeding tube and a bag hooked to her stomach for her waste to drain into. Her outfit was open so I could see her stomach - amongst all the tubes attached to her belly. She also had a pretty fresh scar running vertically on her stomach.
The nurse was having trouble getting her to settle down enough to feed her so she laid her in my arms and we began to watch Barney together. I was rocking her and while looking at her, I noticed she also had an extra growth by her right ear. With each inhale and exhale she breathed, I was reminded of the difficulty she has breathing. The smell of her waste bag created a nauseous feeling throughout my body. In addition to all of this, she also has something wrong with the formation of her left eye.
I sat there rocking this baby girl. While doing so, I began to pray for blessing upon blessing to flow in and through her life.
As I sat there praying and rocking, it dawned on me that her spirit was whole. That yes, life has been extremely unfair for this child thus far in her journey but that it was I, myself, who had labeled her as broken. I realized that though she has numerous medical conditions and doesn't quite appear to look like every other baby in the unit, she's whole. She's complete.
She relaxed enough for the nurse to feed her while I held her.
After the feeding, she got a bit too heavy so I placed her in her crib and began playing with her. She kept on smiling this smile that melted my heart. All of a sudden she started turning red and tensing up. I waited to see if it continued and that it wasn't just a bathroom pause, but she continued. I called the nurse over who claimed she either had to burp or throw up as she opened up her feeding tube, allowing the excess discharge coming from her stomach to rise into the tube.
The rest of my time there I sat sprung over her crib, talking to her, interacting with her, smiling at her, and simply watching her. As I did this, I couldn't help but think of God and His love for us.
I'm not perfect. I'm definitely not perfect. I'm flawed in so many ways. And over and over again Satan plays off of my flaws. He lies to me. He tells me I'm not good enough. He tells me I don't make the cut. He tells me that I'm not complete. But I am complete. I am whole. My heart is resting in the loving hands of my Father and nothing can separate me from His love.
There will be hard times in life. There will be times when life's circumstances seem to suffocate my living and I'll choke. There will be times when I'm scared. There will be times when I have multiple things going on all at once and they may seem more than I can handle. I'll fuss and I’ll cry.
But God continues to watch over me, to talk with me, to interact with me, smile at me, and guide me. Even when I may not have my eyes fixed right back on Him, He remains. He remains by my side and He remains in the very presence of my life. His love remains. He remains.
And as for me. As I sat there hung over the railing of her crib, I couldn't help but notice a sheet of paper hanging on the side of her crib that the little girl's family had filled out. It had a bunch of lists such as "I like to...I don't like to...etc". One list read:
I communicate by screaming, by looking at you, by raising my eyebrows, by falling asleep, by smiling, by grasping fingers, and by reaching towards you.
Yes, I'm the same way. Sometimes I communicate with God by screaming. Sometimes by looking right at Him. Perhaps by falling asleep and resting in Him. Sometimes we smile at each other. Sometimes all I can do is grasp His finger and reach out with all I have towards Him... and then perhaps sometimes it's as simple as an eyebrow raise.
Cheering you on as you come to know the great love of our Father as He forever stands by your side.
May you come to know that the lies of today and days gone past surely fall far from the truth of our redemptive history - a God who will do anything to protect and restore the crown of glory He placed on our souls and a God, who by the power of His love, has made us whole.
Kaylee
I rock babies in the Progressive Care Unit at the Carolinas Medical Center on Monday evenings. It's a beautiful thing though I must admit, there are times where I'm so exhausted by the time I get there, that I nearly rock myself to sleep (oops).
Recently, I tend to rock the same little baby girl. She's bigger than most of the babies and has been there quite a while. Last night when I got there she was already fussing (I reckon she must have known I was on my way and was calling first-dibs on my services, ha).
She had monitors hooked up on other visits, but this time she had a feeding tube and a bag hooked to her stomach for her waste to drain into. Her outfit was open so I could see her stomach - amongst all the tubes attached to her belly. She also had a pretty fresh scar running vertically on her stomach.
The nurse was having trouble getting her to settle down enough to feed her so she laid her in my arms and we began to watch Barney together. I was rocking her and while looking at her, I noticed she also had an extra growth by her right ear. With each inhale and exhale she breathed, I was reminded of the difficulty she has breathing. The smell of her waste bag created a nauseous feeling throughout my body. In addition to all of this, she also has something wrong with the formation of her left eye.
I sat there rocking this baby girl. While doing so, I began to pray for blessing upon blessing to flow in and through her life.
As I sat there praying and rocking, it dawned on me that her spirit was whole. That yes, life has been extremely unfair for this child thus far in her journey but that it was I, myself, who had labeled her as broken. I realized that though she has numerous medical conditions and doesn't quite appear to look like every other baby in the unit, she's whole. She's complete.
She relaxed enough for the nurse to feed her while I held her.
After the feeding, she got a bit too heavy so I placed her in her crib and began playing with her. She kept on smiling this smile that melted my heart. All of a sudden she started turning red and tensing up. I waited to see if it continued and that it wasn't just a bathroom pause, but she continued. I called the nurse over who claimed she either had to burp or throw up as she opened up her feeding tube, allowing the excess discharge coming from her stomach to rise into the tube.
The rest of my time there I sat sprung over her crib, talking to her, interacting with her, smiling at her, and simply watching her. As I did this, I couldn't help but think of God and His love for us.
I'm not perfect. I'm definitely not perfect. I'm flawed in so many ways. And over and over again Satan plays off of my flaws. He lies to me. He tells me I'm not good enough. He tells me I don't make the cut. He tells me that I'm not complete. But I am complete. I am whole. My heart is resting in the loving hands of my Father and nothing can separate me from His love.
There will be hard times in life. There will be times when life's circumstances seem to suffocate my living and I'll choke. There will be times when I'm scared. There will be times when I have multiple things going on all at once and they may seem more than I can handle. I'll fuss and I’ll cry.
But God continues to watch over me, to talk with me, to interact with me, smile at me, and guide me. Even when I may not have my eyes fixed right back on Him, He remains. He remains by my side and He remains in the very presence of my life. His love remains. He remains.
And as for me. As I sat there hung over the railing of her crib, I couldn't help but notice a sheet of paper hanging on the side of her crib that the little girl's family had filled out. It had a bunch of lists such as "I like to...I don't like to...etc". One list read:
I communicate by screaming, by looking at you, by raising my eyebrows, by falling asleep, by smiling, by grasping fingers, and by reaching towards you.
Yes, I'm the same way. Sometimes I communicate with God by screaming. Sometimes by looking right at Him. Perhaps by falling asleep and resting in Him. Sometimes we smile at each other. Sometimes all I can do is grasp His finger and reach out with all I have towards Him... and then perhaps sometimes it's as simple as an eyebrow raise.
Cheering you on as you come to know the great love of our Father as He forever stands by your side.
May you come to know that the lies of today and days gone past surely fall far from the truth of our redemptive history - a God who will do anything to protect and restore the crown of glory He placed on our souls and a God, who by the power of His love, has made us whole.
Kaylee
Labeled.
Hello.
For the entirety of yesterday's work day my diet consisted of two enormous brownies - and I must say the best brownies I've ever had; nevertheless, by the end of the day, I had a headache - go figure! Instead of walking home I decided I'd walk to a nearby cafe, get a salad, and write some Christmas cards.
With my food ordered, eaten, and only a few Christmas cards written (oops!) I took my tray to the "tray disposal" area and began dispensing my fork and napkin, and placing the plate into the bin. I glanced over at a kid who had been chit chatting away throughout the entire duration of my visit in the cafe and was still going, just a jibber-jabbering away in his high chair - probably around 3 years of age, loud, and never-ending.
That kid oughta be a preacher someday, I thought, I wonder if his parents tell him that. I wonder if they think the same thing and if they'll raise him telling him that...I wonder what he'll actually be.
As I stood next to this adorable rambling boy it got me thinking about my own life, how growing up there were a million hunches, a million guesstimates, and a million labels of Kaylee and her future. Who I was. Where I was going. These "prophecies" became the definition by which I defined myself - and they came from every element of my childhood and every element of today. Everything and everyone we encounter has a direct affect on our past, on who we are now, and who we aspire to be.
A friend once said to me "You know, when we meet someone we tend to pick up on one or two of their traits and fill up our entire understanding of that person with those couple of traits, but what happens is we fail to see all the other dimensions of that person."
You see, sometimes it's hard for me to let go of the "defined" Kaylee. The Kaylee people assumed I was and figured I would become. Sometimes it held me back. Growing up, all I knew was soccer and music. But as the years have passed I've come to know that there's much more to me than soccer and music.
The irony I'm finding as I write this is that a couple of years ago I asked God to teach me who I was. I figured He'd just tell me that I really liked soccer and music, but as I sit here and write this, I realize that in the past couple of years God has strengthened my strengths and somehow even managed to use my weaknesses. He's brought up new-found interests, knowledge, and experience. You see, the process doesn't stop. We're not limited to what we were yesterday nor who we are sitting here today. Tomorrow brings another day yet to live and grow.
So what is it today that's defined you all these years? What "label" have you, yourself known is untrue and yet have been unable to let go of? What do you want to learn more about? What do you want to grow in? Because the story doesn't end with our childhood labels, the story continues on in a never-ending process to become more like Christ - and in that process we can become the person we maybe never thought possible.
Perhaps, the labels of days past are an affirmation of who you are today, if so, beautiful, but perhaps, they've become a sort of bondage telling you that you're all you're ever going to be - that there's no more to than what you are today. If so, press on. Press on to take hold of all you were created to be and to do. I betcha it's more than you could ever dare to dream. "Yesterday came and went. Like a vapor, it disappeared. But you left something behind yesterday. A piece of yourself, a piece of the legacy you're building. Today, you'll create another piece of it. And tomorrow. And all the tomorrows after that."
Cheering you on as you claim, or perhaps re-name your labels,
May you dream and aspire to be all that you were meant to be.
Kaylee
NDMS...it's a drill.
Good Afternoon y'all.
Last week my chapter participated in a National Disaster Medical System (NDMS) drill. A few days prior to the drill, while walking to work, I was thinking about the drill. I began to think about how all these teams of people - the Medic, the Fire Department, Red Cross, etc. - were getting together to simulate and prepare for a disaster. As soon as I began thinking the thought, I immediately became overwhelmed as a tear formed in my eye. What? I thought. Why did I just get so overwhelmed with thinking about the drill's execution?
But as I got to thinking about it more; it makes sense, a lot of sense, as to why I was so overwhelmed. The drill; moreover, the theme, the idea, the reason for the drill is beautiful, really. In fact, the drill is a reflection of what this walk here on earth should be like.
At church recently, the pastor addressed the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Lazarus, a poor man, would just sit there, hoping to catch the rich man's crumbs. When they both passed away Lazarus was up with Abraham and the rich man was "down below." The rich man asked if Lazarus could just dip his finger in some water to cool his tongue. Upon the rejection of that request - since apparently, there is a "barrier" where those in heaven can't venture down to hades and vice versa - he inquired, "Well, at least can you send Lazarus back to warn my brothers so that they don't end up the same way as I?" That request too, was rejected.
The pastor went on to describe how the rich man, even "down below" didn't get it. He still looked at Lazarus like a servant. His riches and power had built a barrier of separation so great that no one could get to him. How on earth he had chosen to live alone, and how now, he had to live eternity in his choosings.
The pastor addressed this parable in numerous dimensions stating that most people would think that this parable is about how Lazarus needed the rich man (and yes, perhaps) but also that maybe, just maybe, the rich man needed Lazarus. In order to keep from building up his wall of separation - his hell - he needed to stay connected. He needed Lazarus so as to not find himself alone. I found this to be quite profound and quite enlightening to say the least; however, the dimension of the parable that I see reflecting as it pertains to the NDMS drill is the part of how on earth he had chosen to live alone, and how now, he had to live eternity in his choosings. He made his own hell on earth and after earth, what remained was what he made.
The parable is sad, yes, as it pertains to the rich man; yet this parable offers so much hope and beauty. We don't have to be the rich man. We get to help bring Heaven to earth. The Kingdom is at hand and we get to live in His ways, receive His mercy and grace, and reflect as best we can the Kingdom in its fullness that is to come. And this? This time on earth...it's a simulation, a drill, a reflection, a gift to prepare as best as we can for our King.
In talking about living a life of holiness, I once heard someone say, "You know, I know the bride always has a choice, but have you ever heard of a bride who didn't want to look beautiful for her groom on their wedding day?"
I remember someone also once said, "So many people don't want to bow to God while on earth. Do they figure once in Heaven the desire will just come naturally? (Okay so I paraphrased that, but that was the gist of it). I remember it struck me that bowing before this Jesus, loving this Jesus, it's a process; moreover, a transformation into His likeness. Yes, of course, according to Revelations every knee will bow down on Heaven and Earth, and below the Earth - and any in betweens that may exist. But a heart after God, a desire to love God, learning to walk in harmony with God, becoming like God - it takes practice, it takes living...it takes a drill.
The most beautiful part of all of this (and probably what it was that first brought that tear to my eye when thinking about it) is that the NDMS is not a compilation of one, it is of many. Many people from different places come together to respond.
This restoration of His Kingdom...it's done one by one, many by many, and all for all. We're not alone.
Cheering you on as you participate in the preparation and practice of the coming of our King. (in a manger, in our day to day messes, and someday, riding on a cloud, shining like the sun).
May today be a day where you choose Heaven, where you choose His ways, where you experience more and more the beauty that is to be had while walking in harmony with God.
Kaylee
Last week my chapter participated in a National Disaster Medical System (NDMS) drill. A few days prior to the drill, while walking to work, I was thinking about the drill. I began to think about how all these teams of people - the Medic, the Fire Department, Red Cross, etc. - were getting together to simulate and prepare for a disaster. As soon as I began thinking the thought, I immediately became overwhelmed as a tear formed in my eye. What? I thought. Why did I just get so overwhelmed with thinking about the drill's execution?
But as I got to thinking about it more; it makes sense, a lot of sense, as to why I was so overwhelmed. The drill; moreover, the theme, the idea, the reason for the drill is beautiful, really. In fact, the drill is a reflection of what this walk here on earth should be like.
At church recently, the pastor addressed the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Lazarus, a poor man, would just sit there, hoping to catch the rich man's crumbs. When they both passed away Lazarus was up with Abraham and the rich man was "down below." The rich man asked if Lazarus could just dip his finger in some water to cool his tongue. Upon the rejection of that request - since apparently, there is a "barrier" where those in heaven can't venture down to hades and vice versa - he inquired, "Well, at least can you send Lazarus back to warn my brothers so that they don't end up the same way as I?" That request too, was rejected.
The pastor went on to describe how the rich man, even "down below" didn't get it. He still looked at Lazarus like a servant. His riches and power had built a barrier of separation so great that no one could get to him. How on earth he had chosen to live alone, and how now, he had to live eternity in his choosings.
The pastor addressed this parable in numerous dimensions stating that most people would think that this parable is about how Lazarus needed the rich man (and yes, perhaps) but also that maybe, just maybe, the rich man needed Lazarus. In order to keep from building up his wall of separation - his hell - he needed to stay connected. He needed Lazarus so as to not find himself alone. I found this to be quite profound and quite enlightening to say the least; however, the dimension of the parable that I see reflecting as it pertains to the NDMS drill is the part of how on earth he had chosen to live alone, and how now, he had to live eternity in his choosings. He made his own hell on earth and after earth, what remained was what he made.
The parable is sad, yes, as it pertains to the rich man; yet this parable offers so much hope and beauty. We don't have to be the rich man. We get to help bring Heaven to earth. The Kingdom is at hand and we get to live in His ways, receive His mercy and grace, and reflect as best we can the Kingdom in its fullness that is to come. And this? This time on earth...it's a simulation, a drill, a reflection, a gift to prepare as best as we can for our King.
In talking about living a life of holiness, I once heard someone say, "You know, I know the bride always has a choice, but have you ever heard of a bride who didn't want to look beautiful for her groom on their wedding day?"
I remember someone also once said, "So many people don't want to bow to God while on earth. Do they figure once in Heaven the desire will just come naturally? (Okay so I paraphrased that, but that was the gist of it). I remember it struck me that bowing before this Jesus, loving this Jesus, it's a process; moreover, a transformation into His likeness. Yes, of course, according to Revelations every knee will bow down on Heaven and Earth, and below the Earth - and any in betweens that may exist. But a heart after God, a desire to love God, learning to walk in harmony with God, becoming like God - it takes practice, it takes living...it takes a drill.
The most beautiful part of all of this (and probably what it was that first brought that tear to my eye when thinking about it) is that the NDMS is not a compilation of one, it is of many. Many people from different places come together to respond.
This restoration of His Kingdom...it's done one by one, many by many, and all for all. We're not alone.
Cheering you on as you participate in the preparation and practice of the coming of our King. (in a manger, in our day to day messes, and someday, riding on a cloud, shining like the sun).
May today be a day where you choose Heaven, where you choose His ways, where you experience more and more the beauty that is to be had while walking in harmony with God.
Kaylee
In the silence.
Hi all.
I was driving a Red Cross vehicle today and wanted to listen to some music; however, much to my dismay the radio didn't seem to be working. Realizing that it wasn't an issue of volume or power flow, I let it be for a bit. However, upon a deep and true desire for music, I went back to the control panel and began working on the radio again. No such luck. As I sat there in silence, immobilized at a red light, unable to bring music to my ears, it dawned on me that the situation seemed to be playing out the season of my heart.
Recently, I’ve felt quite far from God. Really far in fact. I can't seem to find Him. I can't hear Him. And I feel empty. It's not a feeling of sadness. It's a feeling of emptiness. This feeling has left me feeling a bit abandoned and most certainly lost. I want to reach out, grab Him, and rope Him into my arms. But I can't seem to. I can't seem to find Him. All I've found is silence. My life is guided by silence right now. I can't find Him within me, above me, behind me, nor before me. He seems out of reach. God is silent.
This season isn't a season of inquisition of His existence or presence in my life. He's here, there, everywhere...but where? I can't find Him.
So what is it? What is it that when in seeking you find silence? What if you want a harmonious melody to sound throughout your life leading you to the next verse or the next chorus, and yet the music won't play? And what if you fear that once the music finally starts, it won't be the song of your request?
What is it?
It's faith. It's being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see, or feel, or hear.
For a while my friend and I had a running list of "Ya know you're getting old when..." Ya know you're getting old when you check out the ring finger before checking out the guy, ha. You know you're getting old when people try to set you up. You know you're getting old when...etc. One of the lines was, you know you're getting old when you actually turn off the radio because you like the silence.
A smile smirks my face as I think about this in my spiritual walk. Silence. I have this desire for the music to play, the beat to sound, and the melody to carry on and yet; I would have to say that it is in the silence that the true definition of my faith is being defined. I believe. Even when I don't feel, see, hear, understand, or comprehend, I believe. I walk through the valley head held high knowing my Savior stands on the other side exuberantly waiting to greet me. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or the tomorrows after that, but one day, some day, I'll collapse into His arms. And all of this. All of this silence? Worth it. And as for today? Ha, you know you're maturing in faith when you face trials of many kinds.
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete,
not lacking anything.
James 1:2-4
Maybe today you find yourself in a place quite similar to mine. Maybe you've been there far longer than I have been...Press on. Let this season carry on so as to mature and complete you - not lacking anything.
Beautiful, really.
Cheering you on as you press on through mountaintop highs and valley lows.
May His grace be made perfect in your weakness.
Kaylee
I was driving a Red Cross vehicle today and wanted to listen to some music; however, much to my dismay the radio didn't seem to be working. Realizing that it wasn't an issue of volume or power flow, I let it be for a bit. However, upon a deep and true desire for music, I went back to the control panel and began working on the radio again. No such luck. As I sat there in silence, immobilized at a red light, unable to bring music to my ears, it dawned on me that the situation seemed to be playing out the season of my heart.
Recently, I’ve felt quite far from God. Really far in fact. I can't seem to find Him. I can't hear Him. And I feel empty. It's not a feeling of sadness. It's a feeling of emptiness. This feeling has left me feeling a bit abandoned and most certainly lost. I want to reach out, grab Him, and rope Him into my arms. But I can't seem to. I can't seem to find Him. All I've found is silence. My life is guided by silence right now. I can't find Him within me, above me, behind me, nor before me. He seems out of reach. God is silent.
This season isn't a season of inquisition of His existence or presence in my life. He's here, there, everywhere...but where? I can't find Him.
So what is it? What is it that when in seeking you find silence? What if you want a harmonious melody to sound throughout your life leading you to the next verse or the next chorus, and yet the music won't play? And what if you fear that once the music finally starts, it won't be the song of your request?
What is it?
It's faith. It's being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see, or feel, or hear.
For a while my friend and I had a running list of "Ya know you're getting old when..." Ya know you're getting old when you check out the ring finger before checking out the guy, ha. You know you're getting old when people try to set you up. You know you're getting old when...etc. One of the lines was, you know you're getting old when you actually turn off the radio because you like the silence.
A smile smirks my face as I think about this in my spiritual walk. Silence. I have this desire for the music to play, the beat to sound, and the melody to carry on and yet; I would have to say that it is in the silence that the true definition of my faith is being defined. I believe. Even when I don't feel, see, hear, understand, or comprehend, I believe. I walk through the valley head held high knowing my Savior stands on the other side exuberantly waiting to greet me. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or the tomorrows after that, but one day, some day, I'll collapse into His arms. And all of this. All of this silence? Worth it. And as for today? Ha, you know you're maturing in faith when you face trials of many kinds.
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete,
not lacking anything.
James 1:2-4
Maybe today you find yourself in a place quite similar to mine. Maybe you've been there far longer than I have been...Press on. Let this season carry on so as to mature and complete you - not lacking anything.
Beautiful, really.
Cheering you on as you press on through mountaintop highs and valley lows.
May His grace be made perfect in your weakness.
Kaylee
Mop girl.
Hi all.
Last week I had a meeting to attend uptown (also known as downtown for the rest of us not born and raised here in Charlotte). I climbed up into our enormous Red Cross Suburban and began my venture to the meeting. I think I hit just about every red light. I finally got to the right street only to realize that upon taking the right turn "suggested" by the directions in hand, I was probably heading in the wrong direction. I turned around, stopped and asked for some help. Being informed that it was "right up the street" I decided to park in the closest parking ramp. I drove around and around and around, even attempted to park in the compact car slots in the parking ramp (bad idea) - although so is going around and around in a parking garage in a huge Suburban but you know, I try.
Eventually, I landed myself a nice little spot to park and luckily found myself on an elevator to maneuver me downwards to the street - which only plopped me out on the wrong street. A wonderful man kindly guided me to the street I wanted to be on. I found 735 West Fifth Street and 755 West Fifth Street, but there was no 740 West Fifth Street to be found. I asked around, even called information. I kept thinking to myself, Is this some sort of Harry Potter movie where I just have to run into the brick walls of this building and I'll magically end up on 740 West 5th Street? I didn't try to see if my thinking was true, simply opted out of attending the meeting (rather retrieve the information via email) and began making my way back to the parking garage.
After being turned around and having difficulties even finding the parking garage, I took a sharp 180 turn heading back towards my car's destination, only to have a car quickly jolt on its breaks to keep from hitting me. The driver politely waved me on. I took three steps forward, my arm briskly rising up as it passed my body. As my hand swung up to eye level it came to my attention that my parking ticket was no longer in my hand. Apparently with the swoosh of my arm, so too, was the swoosh disappearance of my ticket (which had only seconds before been in my hand). I began twirling in circles like a dog chasing its tail looking for this "imaginary" ticket (or at least imaginary is what it must have appeared to the driver sitting there watching me). With no luck of finding the ticket, I waved the driver on his way and ventured onward to the parking garage elevator.
Luckily the lady on the elevator on my way down had told me to remember that I was on the butterfly floor. Yes, the butterfly floor. I got off on the butterfly floor, walked all around, and no Red Cross Suburban in sight. I walked up to the centipede floor and down to the ladybug floor and still no suck luck. As I was hopelessly, mopishly, walking around I glanced to the right only to spot the Red Cross Suburban through a window in the cement wall. With the way the garage was set up, if I went up I would go over the suburban and if I went down I would go under. In order to get to the suburban, the only option (that I could tell of) was to climb through the window. I opted into taking that option, hiked up my pink cotton skirt, and scaled the cement wall with my pink rubber rain goulashes, climbed over the window sill, and dropped myself down onto a nearby vehicle, with fingers-crossed that I wouldn't set off the car alarm.
Down I went, floor by floor. Squeezing my way downwards past all the other cars going upward (seems to be that most of the morning traffic was arriving to work not leaving...go-figure). I thankfully, and successfully, made it to the bottom floor to read: Lost Parking Ticket Go to Cashier Floor. I turn around. Head back up. I get to the cashier, state my issue. He says, "lost ticket, $10" as he scrolls his eyes downward to a sign that reads, "Lost ticket $10." I ask if they accepted credit cards. He said, "No." As I began scrolling through my purse (really to serve as a hiatus in talking with him, as I stalled in hopes that he would reconsider the amount owed) He then let up the gate. I began to say something to the effect of, "Well, are you suuu." - He closed the window on my face...and away I drove.
Yesterday, I had a situation where a landlord attacked both my character and my work abilities. Though I had the support of my supervisor and my supervisor's supervisor, by the end of the day I had still managed to leave a small pool of tears at my desk.
Dry-eyed, I left work for a brief stop at home to put on my "Keg Patrol" tee shirt and jeans and make my way over to the Red Hot Turkey Trot Fundraiser for Red Cross. Upon my arrival, I find out that the Turkey Trot is not a run (though that's what it is for me back home. Thanksgiving we do a turkey trot, Easter is our bunny hop, ha). Anyway, this Turkey Trot was not a run. It was an extremely formal event and I found myself in jeans and hiking boots. (It was raining. I figured I was pretty smart gearing all up for the bad weather as I thought the event would be held in outdoor tents). No, it was held in the lobby of one of the finest buildings in uptown. No big deal, a little out of place, but just a minor detail as there were a few other "Keg Patrol" volunteers dressed in similar out-of-place outfits. Problem though, I don't end up doing Keg Patrol. Rather, they ask if they can shift my assigned volunteered position and send me to the will call table. So I sit, with all these beautiful (beautifully dressed up) people walking in, taking will call tickets.
After a while, the incoming flow of guests had dissipated and I decided to go scope out the place. I travel down the elevators, make my way around, and am asked to find a mop. No biggie! I find a mop. As it drips a bit I decide to take the yellow rolling bucket with me as well. I push my way through the sardine, nicely-dressed, gathering of people and mop up a few drops of water. As I began rolling my way back with the mop and bucket I run into the CEO of our Red Cross Chapter. I quietly commented something about "gotta love the mop ha ha." As the CEO passed by, just enough to be behind me about a foot, I gallantly dumped the yellow bucket of water onto the floor hitting many of the guests with a wave of water. With gallons of water gushing about, hitting every person within a 20 foot radius and girls screaming and jumping up out of the way in their nice little outfits, I'm pretty sure Lake Michigan and all of its entirety was strewn about the floor at that moment. And I'm pretty sure this must have caused a ripple effect of motion throughout the massively populated area. My mop, being completely soaked served only as a way of spreading the water about, splashing the people even more. A few minutes later as I sat there head down, mopping up my mess, a rescue crew arrived to finish cleaning up the disaster. Ha, I'm pretty sure the Red Cross operates on disaster prevention and preparedness. Not sure how much I helped out the Red Cross mission.
So why am I sharing this? Besides the fact that I'm hoping that you can perhaps get a slight chuckle out of my embarrassing and quite horrific situation? Because at the end of the night I was able to call my mom and have a really good hard laugh about it all - I'm living for something more than prestige and power. I'm living to live life abundantly.
Life is crazy. It's frustrating. It's confusing. It's difficult. Sometimes it's black. Sometimes it's white. Sometimes it offers situations that are a million shades of grey. Relationships aren't perfect, as demonstrated by my situation with the landlord. Moments don't go as planned. Things change. But at the end of the day, God is, was, and is to come. His faithfulness endures forever. Morning will come. This too shall pass. God is good.
And, speaking of good. The good news is, morning did come, and we had a farewell breakfast for one of our employees. Everyone, including the CEO had a good hard laugh at "mop girl."
So whatever it is today that has you feeling like you don't make the cut, embarrassed, frustrated, feelings of failure, anger...let go and live in it all. Live every moment, even the unexpected, unpleasant ones. Live the emotions life entails. Live it all anyway.
Cheering you on with an empty bucket of water in yesterday's past, laughs for today, and hope for tomorrow.
May you live each moment of your life.
Kaylee
Last week I had a meeting to attend uptown (also known as downtown for the rest of us not born and raised here in Charlotte). I climbed up into our enormous Red Cross Suburban and began my venture to the meeting. I think I hit just about every red light. I finally got to the right street only to realize that upon taking the right turn "suggested" by the directions in hand, I was probably heading in the wrong direction. I turned around, stopped and asked for some help. Being informed that it was "right up the street" I decided to park in the closest parking ramp. I drove around and around and around, even attempted to park in the compact car slots in the parking ramp (bad idea) - although so is going around and around in a parking garage in a huge Suburban but you know, I try.
Eventually, I landed myself a nice little spot to park and luckily found myself on an elevator to maneuver me downwards to the street - which only plopped me out on the wrong street. A wonderful man kindly guided me to the street I wanted to be on. I found 735 West Fifth Street and 755 West Fifth Street, but there was no 740 West Fifth Street to be found. I asked around, even called information. I kept thinking to myself, Is this some sort of Harry Potter movie where I just have to run into the brick walls of this building and I'll magically end up on 740 West 5th Street? I didn't try to see if my thinking was true, simply opted out of attending the meeting (rather retrieve the information via email) and began making my way back to the parking garage.
After being turned around and having difficulties even finding the parking garage, I took a sharp 180 turn heading back towards my car's destination, only to have a car quickly jolt on its breaks to keep from hitting me. The driver politely waved me on. I took three steps forward, my arm briskly rising up as it passed my body. As my hand swung up to eye level it came to my attention that my parking ticket was no longer in my hand. Apparently with the swoosh of my arm, so too, was the swoosh disappearance of my ticket (which had only seconds before been in my hand). I began twirling in circles like a dog chasing its tail looking for this "imaginary" ticket (or at least imaginary is what it must have appeared to the driver sitting there watching me). With no luck of finding the ticket, I waved the driver on his way and ventured onward to the parking garage elevator.
Luckily the lady on the elevator on my way down had told me to remember that I was on the butterfly floor. Yes, the butterfly floor. I got off on the butterfly floor, walked all around, and no Red Cross Suburban in sight. I walked up to the centipede floor and down to the ladybug floor and still no suck luck. As I was hopelessly, mopishly, walking around I glanced to the right only to spot the Red Cross Suburban through a window in the cement wall. With the way the garage was set up, if I went up I would go over the suburban and if I went down I would go under. In order to get to the suburban, the only option (that I could tell of) was to climb through the window. I opted into taking that option, hiked up my pink cotton skirt, and scaled the cement wall with my pink rubber rain goulashes, climbed over the window sill, and dropped myself down onto a nearby vehicle, with fingers-crossed that I wouldn't set off the car alarm.
Down I went, floor by floor. Squeezing my way downwards past all the other cars going upward (seems to be that most of the morning traffic was arriving to work not leaving...go-figure). I thankfully, and successfully, made it to the bottom floor to read: Lost Parking Ticket Go to Cashier Floor. I turn around. Head back up. I get to the cashier, state my issue. He says, "lost ticket, $10" as he scrolls his eyes downward to a sign that reads, "Lost ticket $10." I ask if they accepted credit cards. He said, "No." As I began scrolling through my purse (really to serve as a hiatus in talking with him, as I stalled in hopes that he would reconsider the amount owed) He then let up the gate. I began to say something to the effect of, "Well, are you suuu." - He closed the window on my face...and away I drove.
Yesterday, I had a situation where a landlord attacked both my character and my work abilities. Though I had the support of my supervisor and my supervisor's supervisor, by the end of the day I had still managed to leave a small pool of tears at my desk.
Dry-eyed, I left work for a brief stop at home to put on my "Keg Patrol" tee shirt and jeans and make my way over to the Red Hot Turkey Trot Fundraiser for Red Cross. Upon my arrival, I find out that the Turkey Trot is not a run (though that's what it is for me back home. Thanksgiving we do a turkey trot, Easter is our bunny hop, ha). Anyway, this Turkey Trot was not a run. It was an extremely formal event and I found myself in jeans and hiking boots. (It was raining. I figured I was pretty smart gearing all up for the bad weather as I thought the event would be held in outdoor tents). No, it was held in the lobby of one of the finest buildings in uptown. No big deal, a little out of place, but just a minor detail as there were a few other "Keg Patrol" volunteers dressed in similar out-of-place outfits. Problem though, I don't end up doing Keg Patrol. Rather, they ask if they can shift my assigned volunteered position and send me to the will call table. So I sit, with all these beautiful (beautifully dressed up) people walking in, taking will call tickets.
After a while, the incoming flow of guests had dissipated and I decided to go scope out the place. I travel down the elevators, make my way around, and am asked to find a mop. No biggie! I find a mop. As it drips a bit I decide to take the yellow rolling bucket with me as well. I push my way through the sardine, nicely-dressed, gathering of people and mop up a few drops of water. As I began rolling my way back with the mop and bucket I run into the CEO of our Red Cross Chapter. I quietly commented something about "gotta love the mop ha ha." As the CEO passed by, just enough to be behind me about a foot, I gallantly dumped the yellow bucket of water onto the floor hitting many of the guests with a wave of water. With gallons of water gushing about, hitting every person within a 20 foot radius and girls screaming and jumping up out of the way in their nice little outfits, I'm pretty sure Lake Michigan and all of its entirety was strewn about the floor at that moment. And I'm pretty sure this must have caused a ripple effect of motion throughout the massively populated area. My mop, being completely soaked served only as a way of spreading the water about, splashing the people even more. A few minutes later as I sat there head down, mopping up my mess, a rescue crew arrived to finish cleaning up the disaster. Ha, I'm pretty sure the Red Cross operates on disaster prevention and preparedness. Not sure how much I helped out the Red Cross mission.
So why am I sharing this? Besides the fact that I'm hoping that you can perhaps get a slight chuckle out of my embarrassing and quite horrific situation? Because at the end of the night I was able to call my mom and have a really good hard laugh about it all - I'm living for something more than prestige and power. I'm living to live life abundantly.
Life is crazy. It's frustrating. It's confusing. It's difficult. Sometimes it's black. Sometimes it's white. Sometimes it offers situations that are a million shades of grey. Relationships aren't perfect, as demonstrated by my situation with the landlord. Moments don't go as planned. Things change. But at the end of the day, God is, was, and is to come. His faithfulness endures forever. Morning will come. This too shall pass. God is good.
And, speaking of good. The good news is, morning did come, and we had a farewell breakfast for one of our employees. Everyone, including the CEO had a good hard laugh at "mop girl."
So whatever it is today that has you feeling like you don't make the cut, embarrassed, frustrated, feelings of failure, anger...let go and live in it all. Live every moment, even the unexpected, unpleasant ones. Live the emotions life entails. Live it all anyway.
Cheering you on with an empty bucket of water in yesterday's past, laughs for today, and hope for tomorrow.
May you live each moment of your life.
Kaylee
Kickin' it back in a hammock.
Hi all.
It's been a while. I've been a bit busy. The past few weeks I've been in Texas, Michigan, the mountains of North Carolina, and of course, home away from home right here in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Moving on...
The other day I was on the phone with one of my friends who also recently moved away from the beautiful landscapes of West Michigan.
"I can't find Him," I exclaimed. "I can't find God."
She then proclaimed, "Yea, but I'd rather be where you're at. These days I just forget about Him. I feel like I just left God in West Michigan. Sure, I remember Him on Sundays, or when I talk with you or a few of my other friends. But I don't remember Him. I don't think of Him throughout the week or within my day."
Ha, we argued back and forth for a bit as to who really had it worse off. Me, crying out, lost, just hoping to hear Him, feel Him; nonetheless, completely and totally frustrated with it all. Or her, simply negligent to His existence, but really overall, fine in life. Day in and day out, she's good.
By the end of the conversation, I just had to start laughing. I told my friend. "You know, I feel like we're on this Island. Both lost. I'm running around in circles. Running. Running. Running. Hands up in the air, frantically inquiring, whudda we gonna do? Whudda we gonna do? Whudda we gonna do God? Meanwhile, my friend is kicked back in a hammock, soda in hand. Again, me, running around in circles. Perhaps, we could even picture me running circles around my friend, and my friend, feet up, no apparent worries.
So I suppose we really could argue who has it worse off...me? Upset. Her? Upset that's she's not upset. But really, we're both lost in our own way.
Perhaps life is like an island. Yes, eventually a ship will sail towards home, but that's not right now. Right now there's a whole island of adventure to be explored. My friend and I are both missing out. My friend kicked back in a hammock is missing out on all the other parts of the island and all the other adventures God has to take her on. And me? I'm so frantically running about that I'm missing the world as it passes me by. If my friend would get off the hammock, she would see all that is around her, all that God wants to show her. And perhaps, if I actually took a moment and attempted to look at the hammock, even contemplate sitting on it, I could just rest a while. Maybe I just might feel the sunshine on my face. I might just feel God; I might just hear Him whisper sweet words of love in my ear.
But how do we do this? How do find a balance of actively pursuing God and yet rest in His faithfulness and goodness at the same time? I'm not really all too sure. I know He has a whole world of adventures, sights, and journeys to take us on, and yet, He doesn't want us to wind up face first in the dirt while we do it.
Trust perhaps. Perhaps we just trust that despite our own understanding, despite whatever season we're in, that it's all part of the adventure and it's all part of the process. Life is a process. We continue on. Sometimes we press forward, forgetting what is behind and sometimes we press upward, we press up and above our own understanding of the circumstance and we rejoice. We rejoice in what is...even if not what expected. We rejoice in what is to come both in this moment, the rest of today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that.
Some day the ship will sail, but the breeze is blowing now, the sun was shining yesterday, is shining today, and will shine tomorrow. Treasures are buried waiting to be found. Butterflies are dancing around you. The adventure is at hand. Enjoy.
Cheering you on as you come to seek harder than you've ever sought before, and yet rest more than you've ever rested your whole life through.
May trust, perseverance, and joy fill your day.
Kaylee
It's been a while. I've been a bit busy. The past few weeks I've been in Texas, Michigan, the mountains of North Carolina, and of course, home away from home right here in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Moving on...
The other day I was on the phone with one of my friends who also recently moved away from the beautiful landscapes of West Michigan.
"I can't find Him," I exclaimed. "I can't find God."
She then proclaimed, "Yea, but I'd rather be where you're at. These days I just forget about Him. I feel like I just left God in West Michigan. Sure, I remember Him on Sundays, or when I talk with you or a few of my other friends. But I don't remember Him. I don't think of Him throughout the week or within my day."
Ha, we argued back and forth for a bit as to who really had it worse off. Me, crying out, lost, just hoping to hear Him, feel Him; nonetheless, completely and totally frustrated with it all. Or her, simply negligent to His existence, but really overall, fine in life. Day in and day out, she's good.
By the end of the conversation, I just had to start laughing. I told my friend. "You know, I feel like we're on this Island. Both lost. I'm running around in circles. Running. Running. Running. Hands up in the air, frantically inquiring, whudda we gonna do? Whudda we gonna do? Whudda we gonna do God? Meanwhile, my friend is kicked back in a hammock, soda in hand. Again, me, running around in circles. Perhaps, we could even picture me running circles around my friend, and my friend, feet up, no apparent worries.
So I suppose we really could argue who has it worse off...me? Upset. Her? Upset that's she's not upset. But really, we're both lost in our own way.
Perhaps life is like an island. Yes, eventually a ship will sail towards home, but that's not right now. Right now there's a whole island of adventure to be explored. My friend and I are both missing out. My friend kicked back in a hammock is missing out on all the other parts of the island and all the other adventures God has to take her on. And me? I'm so frantically running about that I'm missing the world as it passes me by. If my friend would get off the hammock, she would see all that is around her, all that God wants to show her. And perhaps, if I actually took a moment and attempted to look at the hammock, even contemplate sitting on it, I could just rest a while. Maybe I just might feel the sunshine on my face. I might just feel God; I might just hear Him whisper sweet words of love in my ear.
But how do we do this? How do find a balance of actively pursuing God and yet rest in His faithfulness and goodness at the same time? I'm not really all too sure. I know He has a whole world of adventures, sights, and journeys to take us on, and yet, He doesn't want us to wind up face first in the dirt while we do it.
Trust perhaps. Perhaps we just trust that despite our own understanding, despite whatever season we're in, that it's all part of the adventure and it's all part of the process. Life is a process. We continue on. Sometimes we press forward, forgetting what is behind and sometimes we press upward, we press up and above our own understanding of the circumstance and we rejoice. We rejoice in what is...even if not what expected. We rejoice in what is to come both in this moment, the rest of today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that.
Some day the ship will sail, but the breeze is blowing now, the sun was shining yesterday, is shining today, and will shine tomorrow. Treasures are buried waiting to be found. Butterflies are dancing around you. The adventure is at hand. Enjoy.
Cheering you on as you come to seek harder than you've ever sought before, and yet rest more than you've ever rested your whole life through.
May trust, perseverance, and joy fill your day.
Kaylee
Carry each other.
Hi from the South.
My brother is an amazing triathlete and my sister, quite the runner. I figured it was about time I too, got involved in athletic endeavors so this summer I signed up for my first 5k. Figured it would be fun seeing as a group of fellow friends from my church were also running.
We arrived downtown Grand Rapids. When it came time to line up for the "Get Mark, Get Set, Go," I discovered that these races are extremely organized. They had signs that were held so that one could start with runners who ran a similar pace. I don't typically keep any sort of track of how fast I run - think I'd depress myself with the time, ha ha. But I remembered my sister timing us earlier that summer and she said, "eh, good, we're around an 8:00 minute mile pace.” So what did I decide? I decided that hey, I'll just start with the 7:30/minute mile pacers so that I'm challenged. What a great idea that was! I took off running the race, surrounded by hundreds of people, who were much faster than I, or at the very least, were in much better shape than I.
I'll admit, some people passed me.
But there were times that I, when really lucky, managed to pass a few people. (Oh, and I have to mention that there was a group of girls all dressed up the same, yelling cheers as we ran past. It was great!)
About half-way through I realized I had been pushing myself a bit too hard. (I know, I know, it was only a 5k but I wasn't in all that good of shape to start with). Somehow I just kept running.
I crossed the finish line with an amazing time - for me that is. I somehow managed to run faster, stronger, and harder than ever before. And what's so amazing to me is that I felt like I was being carried. My speed and velocity were guided by, fed by, and led by my fellow runners. It was an energy I've never felt before. I didn't feel like I was running, I felt like I was floating. And when the moment came that I felt I couldn't run anymore...the energy and determination of all the other runners; the spirit of the race is what kept me pressing on.
I share all this because it's such a beautiful representation of our race with Christ.
We were made to live in community. We were made to run this race together, and in doing so we channel great amounts of energy and perseverance to each other. I'm not pointing out the literal racing part of the 5k. Who won is irrelevant to the ways of Christ. What is relevant is that we finish. That we all finish. In our lives we will be surrounded by a multitude of differences as well as commonalities...and somehow, in the beautiful workings of God, living in community allows us to carry each other in complete complement to each of our abilities.
I heard a message taught on this at church once. Loved it! I thought it was beautiful to see a representation of it all played out on a Saturday morning race.
Cheering you on as you run your race with Christ.
May you carry when you can carry and may you be carried when you need to be carried.
Kaylee
My brother is an amazing triathlete and my sister, quite the runner. I figured it was about time I too, got involved in athletic endeavors so this summer I signed up for my first 5k. Figured it would be fun seeing as a group of fellow friends from my church were also running.
We arrived downtown Grand Rapids. When it came time to line up for the "Get Mark, Get Set, Go," I discovered that these races are extremely organized. They had signs that were held so that one could start with runners who ran a similar pace. I don't typically keep any sort of track of how fast I run - think I'd depress myself with the time, ha ha. But I remembered my sister timing us earlier that summer and she said, "eh, good, we're around an 8:00 minute mile pace.” So what did I decide? I decided that hey, I'll just start with the 7:30/minute mile pacers so that I'm challenged. What a great idea that was! I took off running the race, surrounded by hundreds of people, who were much faster than I, or at the very least, were in much better shape than I.
I'll admit, some people passed me.
But there were times that I, when really lucky, managed to pass a few people. (Oh, and I have to mention that there was a group of girls all dressed up the same, yelling cheers as we ran past. It was great!)
About half-way through I realized I had been pushing myself a bit too hard. (I know, I know, it was only a 5k but I wasn't in all that good of shape to start with). Somehow I just kept running.
I crossed the finish line with an amazing time - for me that is. I somehow managed to run faster, stronger, and harder than ever before. And what's so amazing to me is that I felt like I was being carried. My speed and velocity were guided by, fed by, and led by my fellow runners. It was an energy I've never felt before. I didn't feel like I was running, I felt like I was floating. And when the moment came that I felt I couldn't run anymore...the energy and determination of all the other runners; the spirit of the race is what kept me pressing on.
I share all this because it's such a beautiful representation of our race with Christ.
We were made to live in community. We were made to run this race together, and in doing so we channel great amounts of energy and perseverance to each other. I'm not pointing out the literal racing part of the 5k. Who won is irrelevant to the ways of Christ. What is relevant is that we finish. That we all finish. In our lives we will be surrounded by a multitude of differences as well as commonalities...and somehow, in the beautiful workings of God, living in community allows us to carry each other in complete complement to each of our abilities.
I heard a message taught on this at church once. Loved it! I thought it was beautiful to see a representation of it all played out on a Saturday morning race.
Cheering you on as you run your race with Christ.
May you carry when you can carry and may you be carried when you need to be carried.
Kaylee
Flying.
Hello.
This past weekend I was in Chicago for a wedding. In the airport on the way down I was talking with one of my friends. He asked me if I liked flying to which I responded, "I don't always particularly like the taking off and landing part, but I like being up in the clouds."
This trip was no exception. I, once again, did not particularly enjoy the take offs; however, my flight home was incredible.
I took my seat on the plane. Buckled myself in. The plane started to move and elevate off the ground. I could see everything below me. Then, clouds surrounded the plane and I couldn't see anything, but then....we rose above the clouds and I saw the most beautiful, absolutely beautiful view. I can't explain it. I really can't. Words wouldn't give it all justice to the beauty and clarity that I saw. I felt as if my world had been expanded ten times over and my breath was taken away. Deep, deep awe rested on that moment - and the moments that followed. I sat and stared out the window...completely captivated by what I saw and felt.
This past summer I wrote a song. Part of the lyrics read:
Waiting, I'm waiting
But I've never waited like this before
Cause I'm learning how to breathe
Resting in His peace
Finding my wings
Preparing to fly
...while I wait.
This whole experience down in Charlotte, North Carolina has been incredible, but it was a rough start. I couldn't help but think that this flight back to Charlotte was a beautiful representation of a life in Christ. There are times we wait, we wait on Him, to hear Him, to be restored by Him, to seek Him, to find rest in Him. We simply wait. But then He calls. He calls us to action, to take flight. I'm not sure what I expected everything to be like when I wrote this song, what the "flight" would actually look and feel like. Something beautiful I suppose.
But it didn't all seem beautiful as I took off. It wasn't at all like I had planned, nor what I expected. I struggled a lot and my vision was cloudy. But the clouds are breaking free and so am I.
Day by day, year by year, season to season, chapter to chapter, God takes our souls and our beings out flying - through adventures, through opportunities, through work environments, through our interactions, through our children, through our family, through our friends. He takes us flying. He takes us on adventures.
If God is calling you to wait, to wait on Him, then wait. Perhaps it would help to keep in mind that waiting isn't putting your life on hold, it's simply waiting. For me personally, I've come to love my time of waiting because I seem to rest best in Him during my times of waiting - I may be anxious to know what the next step is but I still find waiting a time where my heart finds much rest.
And If you're taking off, remember the "flight" might have a bumpy start, confusion and cloudiness may set in. Goodness knows, turbulence may even last the entire flight through, but fly....fly because when you get through the cloudiness of confusion, when you break through, your breath will be taken away by the beauty of our author's plan.
Wherever you find yourself in the flight, simply rejoice. Rejoice that His plans are far greater than we could dare to dream. They are to prosper and not to harm us. They are breath-taking.
If someone were to ask me if I liked what it meant to be a servant of Christ, I suppose my response would be quite similar to that I gave my friend, "I don't always particularly like the taking off and the landing part, but I love it when I'm soaring and I love it when I'm resting."
Cheering you on as your adventures continue.
May you find beauty and may you find rest.
Kaylee
This past weekend I was in Chicago for a wedding. In the airport on the way down I was talking with one of my friends. He asked me if I liked flying to which I responded, "I don't always particularly like the taking off and landing part, but I like being up in the clouds."
This trip was no exception. I, once again, did not particularly enjoy the take offs; however, my flight home was incredible.
I took my seat on the plane. Buckled myself in. The plane started to move and elevate off the ground. I could see everything below me. Then, clouds surrounded the plane and I couldn't see anything, but then....we rose above the clouds and I saw the most beautiful, absolutely beautiful view. I can't explain it. I really can't. Words wouldn't give it all justice to the beauty and clarity that I saw. I felt as if my world had been expanded ten times over and my breath was taken away. Deep, deep awe rested on that moment - and the moments that followed. I sat and stared out the window...completely captivated by what I saw and felt.
This past summer I wrote a song. Part of the lyrics read:
Waiting, I'm waiting
But I've never waited like this before
Cause I'm learning how to breathe
Resting in His peace
Finding my wings
Preparing to fly
...while I wait.
This whole experience down in Charlotte, North Carolina has been incredible, but it was a rough start. I couldn't help but think that this flight back to Charlotte was a beautiful representation of a life in Christ. There are times we wait, we wait on Him, to hear Him, to be restored by Him, to seek Him, to find rest in Him. We simply wait. But then He calls. He calls us to action, to take flight. I'm not sure what I expected everything to be like when I wrote this song, what the "flight" would actually look and feel like. Something beautiful I suppose.
But it didn't all seem beautiful as I took off. It wasn't at all like I had planned, nor what I expected. I struggled a lot and my vision was cloudy. But the clouds are breaking free and so am I.
Day by day, year by year, season to season, chapter to chapter, God takes our souls and our beings out flying - through adventures, through opportunities, through work environments, through our interactions, through our children, through our family, through our friends. He takes us flying. He takes us on adventures.
If God is calling you to wait, to wait on Him, then wait. Perhaps it would help to keep in mind that waiting isn't putting your life on hold, it's simply waiting. For me personally, I've come to love my time of waiting because I seem to rest best in Him during my times of waiting - I may be anxious to know what the next step is but I still find waiting a time where my heart finds much rest.
And If you're taking off, remember the "flight" might have a bumpy start, confusion and cloudiness may set in. Goodness knows, turbulence may even last the entire flight through, but fly....fly because when you get through the cloudiness of confusion, when you break through, your breath will be taken away by the beauty of our author's plan.
Wherever you find yourself in the flight, simply rejoice. Rejoice that His plans are far greater than we could dare to dream. They are to prosper and not to harm us. They are breath-taking.
If someone were to ask me if I liked what it meant to be a servant of Christ, I suppose my response would be quite similar to that I gave my friend, "I don't always particularly like the taking off and the landing part, but I love it when I'm soaring and I love it when I'm resting."
Cheering you on as your adventures continue.
May you find beauty and may you find rest.
Kaylee
Taking the fight out of the enemy.
Hi There.
I must first draw attention to a spelling blooper I made yesterday. I accidentally wrote drewel instead of drool which okay, funny, I misspelled the word. (And you know, I remember I kept looking at the word and thinking it looked funny but just couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with it - perhaps spell check would have been a wise choice, ha). But I realized this morning it's spelled drool, not drewel. I laughed so hard. It may not seem as if it's a big deal, but for those of you who don't know, I had a professor in college who was really life-changing. She challenged me and presented me with ideas and materials that really have shaped my life. Her name? Professor Christine Drewel and best yet --- I send her these emails. So, basically, I inserted the name of the teacher who I hold in the highest respect and regards in the place of the word drool...how embarrassing!
So Professor Drewel, my sincerest apologies for my spelling blooper yesterday. I know you're probably having a good hard laugh at all of this yourself. Good thing you weren't my spelling teacher because then it would have been a double whammy...ha.
Anyway, let's move on...for my sake...
One of my friends, Slade Searight, wrote me the other day. He wrapped his email up with this story. It's so beautiful and inspirational I just had to share it:
I'll leave you with this...while in training to be a Special Agent in Virginia, we were beaten down again and again and again and again. They ran us until they knew we would pass out or throw up. They made us fight one another during defensive tactics training to the point of being knocked out. We were bruised, cut, broken and bleeding. Do you know what the point of all this was?
To see who would get up.
"Where are my quitters?" The lead instructors would yell this constantly during the first couple weeks. "Just raise your hand, and it will all be over. We'll even give you a nice meal and all the water you can drink while the rest of these people suffer. Who has had enough?" After the first couple miles, everyone's a tough guy. But, after mile 8, and 200 push ups, and enough sit ups to make you feel like vomiting, and being forced to swim across a lake and then roll in sand...a nice meal and all the water one can drink starts to sound real nice. It's inevitable...there are always a few who raise their hand. It's designed that way. The promise is kept; they are given a nice meal, all the water they want, and they are given about 2 hours to pack their bags until the bus arrives to take them to the airport. They chose to give in...and it was the easiest thing in the world to do.
In my case, it was expected. All the instructors knew that I was in seminary, of all places, before coming to the academy. They didn't think I'd make it 2 seconds, this religious Christian wimp from Michigan. What they didn't know was that I had military experience. That, more importantly, I was a soldier in Jesus' revolution. That I wasn't going to quit, no matter how tough it got, because I felt so strongly that God was proud of me to be taking on this job, certainly a road less traveled. Eventually, I earned the respect of the instructors and my classmates, and the Christian seminary student was voted to be the class speaker at graduation. Evil got in some licks, but I got up...again and again. I will NEVER stay down. I will always get back up. I invite you to do the same, pretty girl. No matter what, get up. If you need help, ask and I will help you get up. Lord knows I have needed help getting up time and time again. Never, ever stay down and let evil smirk at you. No matter how much it hurts, keep getting up...it will take the fight out of the enemy, even if you don't have anything left to throw at him.
- Me
Beautiful...
Cheering you on as you find yourself pressing on.
May you find yourself getting up again and again and again....and then...again.
Kaylee
I must first draw attention to a spelling blooper I made yesterday. I accidentally wrote drewel instead of drool which okay, funny, I misspelled the word. (And you know, I remember I kept looking at the word and thinking it looked funny but just couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with it - perhaps spell check would have been a wise choice, ha). But I realized this morning it's spelled drool, not drewel. I laughed so hard. It may not seem as if it's a big deal, but for those of you who don't know, I had a professor in college who was really life-changing. She challenged me and presented me with ideas and materials that really have shaped my life. Her name? Professor Christine Drewel and best yet --- I send her these emails. So, basically, I inserted the name of the teacher who I hold in the highest respect and regards in the place of the word drool...how embarrassing!
So Professor Drewel, my sincerest apologies for my spelling blooper yesterday. I know you're probably having a good hard laugh at all of this yourself. Good thing you weren't my spelling teacher because then it would have been a double whammy...ha.
Anyway, let's move on...for my sake...
One of my friends, Slade Searight, wrote me the other day. He wrapped his email up with this story. It's so beautiful and inspirational I just had to share it:
I'll leave you with this...while in training to be a Special Agent in Virginia, we were beaten down again and again and again and again. They ran us until they knew we would pass out or throw up. They made us fight one another during defensive tactics training to the point of being knocked out. We were bruised, cut, broken and bleeding. Do you know what the point of all this was?
To see who would get up.
"Where are my quitters?" The lead instructors would yell this constantly during the first couple weeks. "Just raise your hand, and it will all be over. We'll even give you a nice meal and all the water you can drink while the rest of these people suffer. Who has had enough?" After the first couple miles, everyone's a tough guy. But, after mile 8, and 200 push ups, and enough sit ups to make you feel like vomiting, and being forced to swim across a lake and then roll in sand...a nice meal and all the water one can drink starts to sound real nice. It's inevitable...there are always a few who raise their hand. It's designed that way. The promise is kept; they are given a nice meal, all the water they want, and they are given about 2 hours to pack their bags until the bus arrives to take them to the airport. They chose to give in...and it was the easiest thing in the world to do.
In my case, it was expected. All the instructors knew that I was in seminary, of all places, before coming to the academy. They didn't think I'd make it 2 seconds, this religious Christian wimp from Michigan. What they didn't know was that I had military experience. That, more importantly, I was a soldier in Jesus' revolution. That I wasn't going to quit, no matter how tough it got, because I felt so strongly that God was proud of me to be taking on this job, certainly a road less traveled. Eventually, I earned the respect of the instructors and my classmates, and the Christian seminary student was voted to be the class speaker at graduation. Evil got in some licks, but I got up...again and again. I will NEVER stay down. I will always get back up. I invite you to do the same, pretty girl. No matter what, get up. If you need help, ask and I will help you get up. Lord knows I have needed help getting up time and time again. Never, ever stay down and let evil smirk at you. No matter how much it hurts, keep getting up...it will take the fight out of the enemy, even if you don't have anything left to throw at him.
- Me
Beautiful...
Cheering you on as you find yourself pressing on.
May you find yourself getting up again and again and again....and then...again.
Kaylee
Rest your body on an air mattress, Rest your soul on God.
Hello.
I know, you know, we all know...I sleep on an air mattress. And yes, for whatever reason I seem to find utter satisfaction in the fact that every night I, Kaylee Marie Hendrickson, find myself sleeping on an air mattress. I do, I seem to find some sort of pride and satisfaction out of it. I suppose I must admit that for whatever reason it's sacred to me. Ha, okay so maybe sacred is a bit much in describing the location of where my drewel falls at night but really, I think that sleeping on an air mattress has much more signifance in my life than simply a lousy night of sleep. It reminds me to live life simply. It reminds me that I don't need more. It reminds me that I am truly blessed. So yes, I suppose sacred. To me, sleeping on an air mattress is sacred. I feel the need to add in here that it's a deluxe air mattress...yes, deluxe. It has this whole thing that lifts it up off the floor. Truly beautiful and truly quite the luxury should I find myself engulfed upon a camping expedition in the up and coming future.
Okay okay, air mattress, sacred experience. Moving on.
Though it may be a sacred experience it is also a very crappy experience. Every morning I wake up ridiculously freezing, particularly my toes. (I honestly think that it's because my air mattress rests itself on a slant due to the make up of my room. This allots for the blood to flow to my head and not to my toes, ha ha. Hence, I wake up freezing, painfully freezing. Though I have found it as a handy technique for not hitting snooze too many times as I find myself sprinting to the hopeful knowledge of a hot shower.
I'd like to note here that my air mattress is a double-wide. It's big...huge...lots of room to move around...and yet, I only sleep on half of it. I tend to curl up in the top left-hand corner. I'm never truly comfortable and I don't end up sleeping in the typical comfortable positions I've slept in for the past 22 years of my life.
So, the other night I was lying on this oh-so-wonderful air mattress and I couldn't get comfortable. I was freezing and restless. I got to the point where I began to think that I was never going to be able to warm up, get comfortable, and fall sleep.
For whatever reason, I began sinking in towards the middle of the mattress. ahhh, so much more comfortable. A little bit later I was finally so cold I pulled the sheet out from under me and grabbed the blanket I had below (which I know, why hadn't I used it before on all those cold nights?...because, cost/opportunity, or something like that. I thought the cost of being cold outweighed the opportunity to be comfortable?...I finally concealed and ripped off the sheet, grabbed the blankets underneath, threw my pillows in the middle, and climbed into bed.
The past two nights have been the warmest and most comfortable nights since my arrival in Charlotte - besides those couple of nights I house sat for a dear friend and landed myself what seemed a cloud of blessings to sleep on, ha ha.
The thing is that in this whole little bit I realized how much my air mattress represented my heart. The past couple of months have been incredibly hard...lonely...confusing...difficult, and I've found myself curled up in my own little corner. Not wanting to move. Frozen. Even perhaps numb. Really, to be completely honest...I really just felt dead. As I sunk into my air mattress and as my body began to release itself, I realized how much my heart was starting to do the same. It's starting to ease up. It's starting to breathe. And just how the blankets warmed me up, so too, has God been my strength when all I have is weakness to offer. I don't know what made me finally sink into the air mattress. I could have all along but I didn't. I was too hidden in my corner of the mattress. I don't know why it has taken until now to see with eyes wide open the beautiful saving hand of my Father. But I am. I'm sinking into Him. He's comforting my heart and warming my soul. And me? I'm finding rest.
So what is it? What is it that has you cornered up, cold, and unable to find rest?
May you hope. Hope in Him who, in our incredibly great weaknesses, reaches deep down into our lives and brings restoration, in His timing and working it for good.
Cheering you on as you seek to find the areas of your life that have you cornered up, bitter, angry, frustrated, numb, confused, empty.
May you hope in your inability to save yourself and rest in His ability to save your all in accordance to His perfect will.
Kaylee
I know, you know, we all know...I sleep on an air mattress. And yes, for whatever reason I seem to find utter satisfaction in the fact that every night I, Kaylee Marie Hendrickson, find myself sleeping on an air mattress. I do, I seem to find some sort of pride and satisfaction out of it. I suppose I must admit that for whatever reason it's sacred to me. Ha, okay so maybe sacred is a bit much in describing the location of where my drewel falls at night but really, I think that sleeping on an air mattress has much more signifance in my life than simply a lousy night of sleep. It reminds me to live life simply. It reminds me that I don't need more. It reminds me that I am truly blessed. So yes, I suppose sacred. To me, sleeping on an air mattress is sacred. I feel the need to add in here that it's a deluxe air mattress...yes, deluxe. It has this whole thing that lifts it up off the floor. Truly beautiful and truly quite the luxury should I find myself engulfed upon a camping expedition in the up and coming future.
Okay okay, air mattress, sacred experience. Moving on.
Though it may be a sacred experience it is also a very crappy experience. Every morning I wake up ridiculously freezing, particularly my toes. (I honestly think that it's because my air mattress rests itself on a slant due to the make up of my room. This allots for the blood to flow to my head and not to my toes, ha ha. Hence, I wake up freezing, painfully freezing. Though I have found it as a handy technique for not hitting snooze too many times as I find myself sprinting to the hopeful knowledge of a hot shower.
I'd like to note here that my air mattress is a double-wide. It's big...huge...lots of room to move around...and yet, I only sleep on half of it. I tend to curl up in the top left-hand corner. I'm never truly comfortable and I don't end up sleeping in the typical comfortable positions I've slept in for the past 22 years of my life.
So, the other night I was lying on this oh-so-wonderful air mattress and I couldn't get comfortable. I was freezing and restless. I got to the point where I began to think that I was never going to be able to warm up, get comfortable, and fall sleep.
For whatever reason, I began sinking in towards the middle of the mattress. ahhh, so much more comfortable. A little bit later I was finally so cold I pulled the sheet out from under me and grabbed the blanket I had below (which I know, why hadn't I used it before on all those cold nights?...because, cost/opportunity, or something like that. I thought the cost of being cold outweighed the opportunity to be comfortable?...I finally concealed and ripped off the sheet, grabbed the blankets underneath, threw my pillows in the middle, and climbed into bed.
The past two nights have been the warmest and most comfortable nights since my arrival in Charlotte - besides those couple of nights I house sat for a dear friend and landed myself what seemed a cloud of blessings to sleep on, ha ha.
The thing is that in this whole little bit I realized how much my air mattress represented my heart. The past couple of months have been incredibly hard...lonely...confusing...difficult, and I've found myself curled up in my own little corner. Not wanting to move. Frozen. Even perhaps numb. Really, to be completely honest...I really just felt dead. As I sunk into my air mattress and as my body began to release itself, I realized how much my heart was starting to do the same. It's starting to ease up. It's starting to breathe. And just how the blankets warmed me up, so too, has God been my strength when all I have is weakness to offer. I don't know what made me finally sink into the air mattress. I could have all along but I didn't. I was too hidden in my corner of the mattress. I don't know why it has taken until now to see with eyes wide open the beautiful saving hand of my Father. But I am. I'm sinking into Him. He's comforting my heart and warming my soul. And me? I'm finding rest.
So what is it? What is it that has you cornered up, cold, and unable to find rest?
May you hope. Hope in Him who, in our incredibly great weaknesses, reaches deep down into our lives and brings restoration, in His timing and working it for good.
Cheering you on as you seek to find the areas of your life that have you cornered up, bitter, angry, frustrated, numb, confused, empty.
May you hope in your inability to save yourself and rest in His ability to save your all in accordance to His perfect will.
Kaylee
A life of gratitude.
Hi Y'all.
Casework Management Coordinator....Mouthful to say, but that's my job title.
As caseworker, I work with clients after a disaster. I issue additional financial assistance for food and clothing. I make hotel extensions. I give referrals for clothing and furniture. I handle the necessary paperwork needed to provide rent assistance and security deposit assistance. Yes, that's right. Free money. Free food. Free assistance. It's beautiful.
But one thing I've noticed in dealing with the clients is that each client has their own response to Red Cross assistance. Some are prideful and struggle to accept help. Some demand our help. Some become enraged that we are unable to help in the ways they expect. And some, well some, jump into my arms giving me hugs and praise and then continue on their way out the door as they begin to dance in the parking lot - it's true! And some, remain in awe, completely humbled.
But it's difficult. Casework is difficult. I have to consistently use discernment when dealing with clients. What do they need? What are they responsible enough to handle right now? In giving them financial assistance, am I helping or am I simply enabling a greater problem at hand; perhaps a lack in personal motivation and responsibility, reliability? Do they want to get back on their feet or are they simply "abusing the system." It's difficult. Extremely difficult. It takes a lot of time and energy to help our clients and to help them in the best way possible. But I do. I am committed to supporting, encouraging, and enabling our clients to live life to the fullest.
And it's frustrating. It's frustrating when someone demands something from you. It's frustrating when they don't understand that you cannot and perhaps should not, assist them in the ways that they want. But oh, how absolutely incredibly amazing it is when a client offers gratitude.
So I have to wonder...Do I treat God like that? How do I respond to God? Am I too proud to accept His help? His grace? His blessings? Do I try to do it on my own? Why do I get so angry when God doesn't answer me in the ways that I expect or the ways that I want? Why do I fail to trust that He's giving and taking away in accordance to His perfect will? And why do I demand things from Him? Do I not trust that in His perfect timing, in His perfect ways, He's working for good?
Gratitude. Why is gratitude not the first thing pouring from my lips as I wake and in the last breath I exhale at night? Why do I not look at every good and perfect thing in my life as a blessing, not as what I deserve, but as a blessing, a true blessing, a gift? Why do I not remain in a constant state of awe at the grace in abundance poured on my life?
Grace. Forgiveness. Strength. Love. Faithfulness. Joy. Peace. Kindness. Mercy. Patience. Goodness. Self-Control. Wisdom. Provisions.
Thanks be to God for all the blessings and gifts that He pours down on me daily. May my life be that of living gratitude; shown in the words that I speak, the things that I do, in the people I love, and in the way that I live,
Cheering you on as you celebrate today, the great gracious blessings that flow from our Father onto and into our hearts.
May showers of blessings fill your day as well as your heart.
Kaylee
Casework Management Coordinator....Mouthful to say, but that's my job title.
As caseworker, I work with clients after a disaster. I issue additional financial assistance for food and clothing. I make hotel extensions. I give referrals for clothing and furniture. I handle the necessary paperwork needed to provide rent assistance and security deposit assistance. Yes, that's right. Free money. Free food. Free assistance. It's beautiful.
But one thing I've noticed in dealing with the clients is that each client has their own response to Red Cross assistance. Some are prideful and struggle to accept help. Some demand our help. Some become enraged that we are unable to help in the ways they expect. And some, well some, jump into my arms giving me hugs and praise and then continue on their way out the door as they begin to dance in the parking lot - it's true! And some, remain in awe, completely humbled.
But it's difficult. Casework is difficult. I have to consistently use discernment when dealing with clients. What do they need? What are they responsible enough to handle right now? In giving them financial assistance, am I helping or am I simply enabling a greater problem at hand; perhaps a lack in personal motivation and responsibility, reliability? Do they want to get back on their feet or are they simply "abusing the system." It's difficult. Extremely difficult. It takes a lot of time and energy to help our clients and to help them in the best way possible. But I do. I am committed to supporting, encouraging, and enabling our clients to live life to the fullest.
And it's frustrating. It's frustrating when someone demands something from you. It's frustrating when they don't understand that you cannot and perhaps should not, assist them in the ways that they want. But oh, how absolutely incredibly amazing it is when a client offers gratitude.
So I have to wonder...Do I treat God like that? How do I respond to God? Am I too proud to accept His help? His grace? His blessings? Do I try to do it on my own? Why do I get so angry when God doesn't answer me in the ways that I expect or the ways that I want? Why do I fail to trust that He's giving and taking away in accordance to His perfect will? And why do I demand things from Him? Do I not trust that in His perfect timing, in His perfect ways, He's working for good?
Gratitude. Why is gratitude not the first thing pouring from my lips as I wake and in the last breath I exhale at night? Why do I not look at every good and perfect thing in my life as a blessing, not as what I deserve, but as a blessing, a true blessing, a gift? Why do I not remain in a constant state of awe at the grace in abundance poured on my life?
Grace. Forgiveness. Strength. Love. Faithfulness. Joy. Peace. Kindness. Mercy. Patience. Goodness. Self-Control. Wisdom. Provisions.
Thanks be to God for all the blessings and gifts that He pours down on me daily. May my life be that of living gratitude; shown in the words that I speak, the things that I do, in the people I love, and in the way that I live,
Cheering you on as you celebrate today, the great gracious blessings that flow from our Father onto and into our hearts.
May showers of blessings fill your day as well as your heart.
Kaylee
Play upon me.
Greetings from the South.
I love music. I love it so much. I used to have a choir teacher who said she wished that life was like the opening of the Drew Carey show, that is, if there was a theme song to a moment that we'd sing it, dance it, run through life performing it.
So maybe that's a bit extreme (though I'm not going to lie, I'd love it if life was one big gigantic musical, oh how beautiful that would be) but really, she was on to something here. As I've mentioned before, I walk to work. Every day I walk to work. I like it. In fact, I like it a lot! But I have to be honest and say that I enjoy the walk even more ever since my mom sent my ipod that she recently got fixed for me (thanks, Mom).
So I walk to work...every day....ipod on...(sometimes if you're lucky, you may even catch me walking with a hip-hop in my step)
So I have this music in the background, right? And somehow everything is just that much more beautiful. I'll be just walking right along, land myself beneath a tree and find myself simply in awe, in awe of God's creation, in awe of all His great designs. I passed a squirrel the other day climbing right along and I felt like Sleeping Beauty when she finds herself out in the woods by herself for the first time! Ha, no really, somehow music makes me feel that much more connected....I smell things sweeter, I feel things deeper. Even the breeze becomes so overwhelmingly beautiful that I literally want to fall flat on my knees in worship right there on the sidewalk.
In general, I like soaking things in; however, somehow everything is that much more enhanced by the presence of music.
In walking to work the other day, I was reminded of how intricately reflective music is of Christ and in living the way of Christ.
For those of you who don't know too much about music; in music, there is something called the melody (this would be what you find yourself full-heartedly singing to along with the radio as you drive down the road or stand in the shower). Then there is something called the harmony. These are the notes that "complement" the melody. They make the piece that much more beautiful.
So the more I get to thinking, I'm thinking that God is like the grand melody and we are the harmonies. Alone, harmonies may or may not seem all that interesting, but put together with all the other harmonies and alongside the melody...ah, true music to thy ears is what you get!
You see, this story is not about us. It's about Him. He is the divine melody. We (and how great is this) get to be the harmonies. He uses us to embellish, enhance, gradiositize (okay so that's not a word) but you get my drift. We get to help make the song better.
And I'll admit that it took me a while to learn this but, as most of you know, I simply love music and used to just dream of singing on stage. It got to a point where I realized that if I sang for one person who heard what needed to be heard in the journey, then I would have used my gifts and talents wisely. When I realized this and realized that God may use me for other things besides music (though who knows what's in store) I began asking God if my life could be a harmony to His melody.
Moreover, I used to think about all of our stories playing together at once...how they may, at times, seem like ruckus rather than inspirational tunes (ha). And, yet, I used to imagine that all of our stories, throughout history, current at hand, and stories yet to come, together, must play out the most beautiful, beautifully orchestrated piece up in Heaven.
And what I love the absolute most is that sometimes in music, there can be an overtone. Have you ever heard of an overtone? It's something along the lines of when all the notes are sung/played in perfect pitch, there is a note that becomes audible. No one is singing this note. It just is a result of these other notes. Let me repeat, no one sings it, and yet in compilation of all these notes sung together in the way they were supposed to be sung (because yes, it is difficult to perfectly sing a note) another note exists.
Ahh, beautiful! When our hands and feet become in tune to the ways of Christ, when we walk in (ah-ha) harmony, when we walk in harmony with God, there is this "overtone," perhaps, God present, is what I'm looking to say. When we become the harmony to the divine melody, it is our destiny, and it is the music in which the Holy Spirit dances. It is us, being His hands and feet. We become His reflection! His harmonious reflection!
So I wonder, what does my harmony look like? Am I living so as to create an “overtone?” And do I find rest knowing that my story (no matter how much it may seem like ruckus) is part of a beautiful orchestrated piece?
Cheering you on in this dress-rehearsal.
May each moment fill your heart with excitement for the "Big Show!" - Sorry wow, this is getting a bit too cheesy even for me!
Kaylee
I love music. I love it so much. I used to have a choir teacher who said she wished that life was like the opening of the Drew Carey show, that is, if there was a theme song to a moment that we'd sing it, dance it, run through life performing it.
So maybe that's a bit extreme (though I'm not going to lie, I'd love it if life was one big gigantic musical, oh how beautiful that would be) but really, she was on to something here. As I've mentioned before, I walk to work. Every day I walk to work. I like it. In fact, I like it a lot! But I have to be honest and say that I enjoy the walk even more ever since my mom sent my ipod that she recently got fixed for me (thanks, Mom).
So I walk to work...every day....ipod on...(sometimes if you're lucky, you may even catch me walking with a hip-hop in my step)
So I have this music in the background, right? And somehow everything is just that much more beautiful. I'll be just walking right along, land myself beneath a tree and find myself simply in awe, in awe of God's creation, in awe of all His great designs. I passed a squirrel the other day climbing right along and I felt like Sleeping Beauty when she finds herself out in the woods by herself for the first time! Ha, no really, somehow music makes me feel that much more connected....I smell things sweeter, I feel things deeper. Even the breeze becomes so overwhelmingly beautiful that I literally want to fall flat on my knees in worship right there on the sidewalk.
In general, I like soaking things in; however, somehow everything is that much more enhanced by the presence of music.
In walking to work the other day, I was reminded of how intricately reflective music is of Christ and in living the way of Christ.
For those of you who don't know too much about music; in music, there is something called the melody (this would be what you find yourself full-heartedly singing to along with the radio as you drive down the road or stand in the shower). Then there is something called the harmony. These are the notes that "complement" the melody. They make the piece that much more beautiful.
So the more I get to thinking, I'm thinking that God is like the grand melody and we are the harmonies. Alone, harmonies may or may not seem all that interesting, but put together with all the other harmonies and alongside the melody...ah, true music to thy ears is what you get!
You see, this story is not about us. It's about Him. He is the divine melody. We (and how great is this) get to be the harmonies. He uses us to embellish, enhance, gradiositize (okay so that's not a word) but you get my drift. We get to help make the song better.
And I'll admit that it took me a while to learn this but, as most of you know, I simply love music and used to just dream of singing on stage. It got to a point where I realized that if I sang for one person who heard what needed to be heard in the journey, then I would have used my gifts and talents wisely. When I realized this and realized that God may use me for other things besides music (though who knows what's in store) I began asking God if my life could be a harmony to His melody.
Moreover, I used to think about all of our stories playing together at once...how they may, at times, seem like ruckus rather than inspirational tunes (ha). And, yet, I used to imagine that all of our stories, throughout history, current at hand, and stories yet to come, together, must play out the most beautiful, beautifully orchestrated piece up in Heaven.
And what I love the absolute most is that sometimes in music, there can be an overtone. Have you ever heard of an overtone? It's something along the lines of when all the notes are sung/played in perfect pitch, there is a note that becomes audible. No one is singing this note. It just is a result of these other notes. Let me repeat, no one sings it, and yet in compilation of all these notes sung together in the way they were supposed to be sung (because yes, it is difficult to perfectly sing a note) another note exists.
Ahh, beautiful! When our hands and feet become in tune to the ways of Christ, when we walk in (ah-ha) harmony, when we walk in harmony with God, there is this "overtone," perhaps, God present, is what I'm looking to say. When we become the harmony to the divine melody, it is our destiny, and it is the music in which the Holy Spirit dances. It is us, being His hands and feet. We become His reflection! His harmonious reflection!
So I wonder, what does my harmony look like? Am I living so as to create an “overtone?” And do I find rest knowing that my story (no matter how much it may seem like ruckus) is part of a beautiful orchestrated piece?
Cheering you on in this dress-rehearsal.
May each moment fill your heart with excitement for the "Big Show!" - Sorry wow, this is getting a bit too cheesy even for me!
Kaylee
I have a file.
Good Afternoon.
I have a file. I do. I have a file here at the American Red Cross. It contains all sorts of information about me. I didn't know I had a file until the other day when I was looking to do some more organizing and I found files. Upon inquiring about these files I found out that I, myself, have a file - and that I could look at it if I wanted. Of course, I wanted to see what people have filed about me so I cracked open the file. I started reviewing a piece of paper which stated some of my medical information. It stated that I had extreme emotional stress and lifting limitations. Below that was checked a box that stated to “restrict hardship.”
I began to laugh. Well of course, lifting limitations. I can't do one single push-up ha. But what I found to be incredibly humorous was the fact that my "file" stated that I should be restricted from hardship...and......I'm......the......caseworker. I suppose they figured if they couldn't get me to stop crying they'd just have me join in with the clients, ha ha.
No no, but humorous no? I mean my file claims I have weaknesses, weaknesses that yield limitations, and yet my weaknesses seem to be my strengths here at American Red Cross. My heart may emotionally take on the given situations I find myself surrounded by, and though not always easy, not always what seems ideal, it is quite ideal when working with people who need someone to feel with them, for them, right alongside them. Restricted from hardship? Hmmm.
I remember the first year I volunteered with fifth and sixth graders. The leader of the program taught the volunteers something. He said that if Johnny is beating up someone ask him why he's doing it. Try to get him to figure it out. Try to get him to realize that he has strength. He has strength not so that he can beat a brother up but to defend him....beautiful!
I have extreme emotional stress (or so that's what my files states), lifting limitations as well, ha, and lots of other things that make me, me. I have extreme amounts of energy which used to amount into high levels of anxiety but I've learned to channel my energy towards being extremely organized and productive. I've learned that anything (talents, abilities, gifts, strengths, weakness) can be used in two ways - to glorify God or to not glorify God. For me, it's taking what the world may diagnose, criticize, or label as a weakness and allowing God to use it as a "strength" - in whatever way He desires.
You see, we each have our own "file." We may not like exactly what the file contains, we may wish it was different, we may even wish we could swap files, but I guarantee you, your file is beautiful and it contains all that God wanted it to contain. Our weaknesses are made perfect in Him, through His strength - and of course, in His time.
And just so you know, I stink at math. I always have and always will. When it comes to math, my file reads "bad at it." So I want to make clear here that I'm not saying that if you're bad at math, if you offer it to God, you'll become good at it. Ha, I suppose you could; in Him all things are possible – even drastic improvements in mathematical abilities.
But what I'm trying to say is, love your file. Love the you, you were designed to be - weaknesses and all. So often the world's standards tell us that we're not good enough. That since we're wired, designed, and operating under a certain stigma we are incapable of certain tasks, responsibilities, and opportunities....but God doesn't label us, voiding out certain "files" that seem outdated and less efficient.
So what is it today that you find serving as your weakness? As your struggle? What makes you feel that you are incompetent, unworthy, undesirable? How could it be channeled for good? God seeks for His hands and feet to be strong in us and through us. The story only gets more beautiful when He does this through our weaknesses.
But guys, most importantly, rest...rest in His faithfulness, in His goodness, and in His perfect design of you, beautiful file and all!
Cheering you on as you search your file.
May it be filled with all sorts of unique and beautiful fingerprints of our never-ending creative Father.
Kaylee
I have a file. I do. I have a file here at the American Red Cross. It contains all sorts of information about me. I didn't know I had a file until the other day when I was looking to do some more organizing and I found files. Upon inquiring about these files I found out that I, myself, have a file - and that I could look at it if I wanted. Of course, I wanted to see what people have filed about me so I cracked open the file. I started reviewing a piece of paper which stated some of my medical information. It stated that I had extreme emotional stress and lifting limitations. Below that was checked a box that stated to “restrict hardship.”
I began to laugh. Well of course, lifting limitations. I can't do one single push-up ha. But what I found to be incredibly humorous was the fact that my "file" stated that I should be restricted from hardship...and......I'm......the......caseworker. I suppose they figured if they couldn't get me to stop crying they'd just have me join in with the clients, ha ha.
No no, but humorous no? I mean my file claims I have weaknesses, weaknesses that yield limitations, and yet my weaknesses seem to be my strengths here at American Red Cross. My heart may emotionally take on the given situations I find myself surrounded by, and though not always easy, not always what seems ideal, it is quite ideal when working with people who need someone to feel with them, for them, right alongside them. Restricted from hardship? Hmmm.
I remember the first year I volunteered with fifth and sixth graders. The leader of the program taught the volunteers something. He said that if Johnny is beating up someone ask him why he's doing it. Try to get him to figure it out. Try to get him to realize that he has strength. He has strength not so that he can beat a brother up but to defend him....beautiful!
I have extreme emotional stress (or so that's what my files states), lifting limitations as well, ha, and lots of other things that make me, me. I have extreme amounts of energy which used to amount into high levels of anxiety but I've learned to channel my energy towards being extremely organized and productive. I've learned that anything (talents, abilities, gifts, strengths, weakness) can be used in two ways - to glorify God or to not glorify God. For me, it's taking what the world may diagnose, criticize, or label as a weakness and allowing God to use it as a "strength" - in whatever way He desires.
You see, we each have our own "file." We may not like exactly what the file contains, we may wish it was different, we may even wish we could swap files, but I guarantee you, your file is beautiful and it contains all that God wanted it to contain. Our weaknesses are made perfect in Him, through His strength - and of course, in His time.
And just so you know, I stink at math. I always have and always will. When it comes to math, my file reads "bad at it." So I want to make clear here that I'm not saying that if you're bad at math, if you offer it to God, you'll become good at it. Ha, I suppose you could; in Him all things are possible – even drastic improvements in mathematical abilities.
But what I'm trying to say is, love your file. Love the you, you were designed to be - weaknesses and all. So often the world's standards tell us that we're not good enough. That since we're wired, designed, and operating under a certain stigma we are incapable of certain tasks, responsibilities, and opportunities....but God doesn't label us, voiding out certain "files" that seem outdated and less efficient.
So what is it today that you find serving as your weakness? As your struggle? What makes you feel that you are incompetent, unworthy, undesirable? How could it be channeled for good? God seeks for His hands and feet to be strong in us and through us. The story only gets more beautiful when He does this through our weaknesses.
But guys, most importantly, rest...rest in His faithfulness, in His goodness, and in His perfect design of you, beautiful file and all!
Cheering you on as you search your file.
May it be filled with all sorts of unique and beautiful fingerprints of our never-ending creative Father.
Kaylee
Library of people.
Hello.
As mentioned before, I don't have a lot of money and seeing as I moved my life down here in my little Nissan Sentra, I don't particularly have the most elaborately decorated townhouse. In fact, as a humorous side note, as of now, my living room consists of this enormous dining room table with two tiny short bar stools as its companion for seating, a television (that is partially melted because months ago I left my flat iron on it and melted the thing…oops!), a couple of random lamps, and a purple wicker chair...yes, purple, and yes, a chair, not a couch meaning only one person can sit. But it's my townhouse, full of simplicity...and I just love it.
My bedroom...my bedroom has an air mattress that I sleep on, a cross on the wall, and then, a bookcase. The bookcase is actually what I've been trying to get at. You see, I have some books. Not too many, but some. To be honest, I'm sort of a book hog. I like my books. And to be even more honest, I don't even have that many, but I'm proud of the ones I do have. I might even shamefully admit that sometimes I even sit and count them - I know, sounds extremely pathetic, and it probably is; but, for whatever reason, I get some sort of odd satisfaction knowing how much information my brain has encountered.
Anyway, I have placed each one of my books on my bookcase, exactly where I want each book to be. In fact, and some of you may know, but I'm a bit of an extremist when it comes to organization. My bookcase is just perfect! It’s set-up just the way I want it and just the way I like it!
But little did I know that my life was being played out with my bookshelf and book organizing obsession. You see, recently I've had a total shift in my world-perspective, a total shift in my understanding of a God bigger than me.
I am Casework Management Coordinator here at American Red Cross, so daily I work with people from all different backgrounds, cultures, and areas of the world. Daily, I hear their stories. Daily, I'm coming to realize that this world of ours is really big.
And I am very, very small. I can barely begin to attempt to understand everything going on, good and bad. I can barely wonder why and how things happen. For me to be in control would be a very scary thing, but for years I have tried to control this world in which I live. But I simply cannot control this world. It's too big. But it's not too big for God and God is in control. And to realize that there is a God big enough to be in control, to know that He's the same in West Michigan as He is in Charlotte, to know that it isn't always about having an answer as to why things happen or asking Him to place certain things a certain way. But to know, to trust, that upon whatever we're led to and through, He'll be working for our good. I can't even begin to grasp how beautiful I'm finding this all to be.
So I've come to find that I can't just place God in my life like I place books on my bookshelf. In fact, I shouldn't be placing things at all. I am not the bookkeeper; I am simply a book. I am a story, a story surrounded by a million other stories. And I am just one. One book...one story, placed on the shelf just ever-so-gently, ever-so-knowingly, ever-so-accordingly to be part of the greatest story of all.
So this world...it isn't simply about a tiny little bookshelf in my room, it's much more beautiful than that. It's a Library of People.
Cheering you on as the story continues to press on.
May you find rest in the place the Father so lovingly has placed you today.
Kaylee
As mentioned before, I don't have a lot of money and seeing as I moved my life down here in my little Nissan Sentra, I don't particularly have the most elaborately decorated townhouse. In fact, as a humorous side note, as of now, my living room consists of this enormous dining room table with two tiny short bar stools as its companion for seating, a television (that is partially melted because months ago I left my flat iron on it and melted the thing…oops!), a couple of random lamps, and a purple wicker chair...yes, purple, and yes, a chair, not a couch meaning only one person can sit. But it's my townhouse, full of simplicity...and I just love it.
My bedroom...my bedroom has an air mattress that I sleep on, a cross on the wall, and then, a bookcase. The bookcase is actually what I've been trying to get at. You see, I have some books. Not too many, but some. To be honest, I'm sort of a book hog. I like my books. And to be even more honest, I don't even have that many, but I'm proud of the ones I do have. I might even shamefully admit that sometimes I even sit and count them - I know, sounds extremely pathetic, and it probably is; but, for whatever reason, I get some sort of odd satisfaction knowing how much information my brain has encountered.
Anyway, I have placed each one of my books on my bookcase, exactly where I want each book to be. In fact, and some of you may know, but I'm a bit of an extremist when it comes to organization. My bookcase is just perfect! It’s set-up just the way I want it and just the way I like it!
But little did I know that my life was being played out with my bookshelf and book organizing obsession. You see, recently I've had a total shift in my world-perspective, a total shift in my understanding of a God bigger than me.
I am Casework Management Coordinator here at American Red Cross, so daily I work with people from all different backgrounds, cultures, and areas of the world. Daily, I hear their stories. Daily, I'm coming to realize that this world of ours is really big.
And I am very, very small. I can barely begin to attempt to understand everything going on, good and bad. I can barely wonder why and how things happen. For me to be in control would be a very scary thing, but for years I have tried to control this world in which I live. But I simply cannot control this world. It's too big. But it's not too big for God and God is in control. And to realize that there is a God big enough to be in control, to know that He's the same in West Michigan as He is in Charlotte, to know that it isn't always about having an answer as to why things happen or asking Him to place certain things a certain way. But to know, to trust, that upon whatever we're led to and through, He'll be working for our good. I can't even begin to grasp how beautiful I'm finding this all to be.
So I've come to find that I can't just place God in my life like I place books on my bookshelf. In fact, I shouldn't be placing things at all. I am not the bookkeeper; I am simply a book. I am a story, a story surrounded by a million other stories. And I am just one. One book...one story, placed on the shelf just ever-so-gently, ever-so-knowingly, ever-so-accordingly to be part of the greatest story of all.
So this world...it isn't simply about a tiny little bookshelf in my room, it's much more beautiful than that. It's a Library of People.
Cheering you on as the story continues to press on.
May you find rest in the place the Father so lovingly has placed you today.
Kaylee
Flowershop invitation.
Hello Again.
So I live about 7 blocks (or .7 miles) from work. Given the fact that there are limited funds coming into my bank account and the fact that 7 blocks really isn't all that far, I feel it would be simply silly and quite irresponsible to drive to work; therefore, I walk. It's a lovely thing - to start your morning off with fresh air, blood flow, and some quiet time. I find it lends itself to a great way to "prepare" for the day...Now, the walk home is a whole 'nother story; eh just kidding, the walk home serves as a stress reliever which that, too, is a very beautiful thing, sort of necessity, if you will.
Seeing as I've been here about a month and the fact that I often have additional training on Saturdays means that I have completed this walk numerous times. On this walk, I pass by a floral shop. It appears quite quaint and more than anything it radiates of enchantment. For whatever reason I have this overwhelming desire to step into the floral shop. The shop sticks out far above the other shops I pass. It could be because of it's location. It's closer than the other businesses that I pass (the Bi-Lo Grocery store, in particular, sets itself back a few hundred yards. And I must admit, I have found myself in the Bi-Lo oh too many times since my arrival to Charlotte, ha).
I walked past the floral shop the other day and once again found myself completely enchanted by this little shop. I wanted to step into it so badly. I feel invited by it....I'm not exactly sure why I haven't stepped in yet. Perhaps, I don't really have the time, nor make the time. Perhaps, it's because I don't have the money to buy flowers so I feel as if I don't belong in the store. I mean people don't typically really want to help you unless you're going to purchase something. So I suppose that would lend me more as a nuisance. The thing is though, I really want to go into this floral shop. I haven't made it in yet but I have this feeling if I did, I would meet the most wonderful people. I just have this feeling it would be so. And I bet the aroma is magnificent! (hmm, with a smile on my face I take a deep breath as I write this, just imagining the beautiful smells).
As I passed it this time round I thought, if my heart is awakened this much by such an adorable place, God must be in this. So I got to thinking.
This floral shop was enticing. It was something I wanted to explore, to know more about. What do I, as a Christian look like...Am I like this floral shop? Do people see me and feel compelled to know more, learn more, explore more? Does my life sing of adventure, life abundant, and enchantment?
I'm wondering if it's possible for Christians to look like this floral shop...are we immersed into communities...into loving people? Or are we set back, waiting for people to come to us? And when we do immerse ourselves are we filled with mystery, glory, and love? Does our living offer a sort of enticing appeal? Call it an invitation? Do people want to step in and see what we have to offer? And, even more, are we welcoming those who step in? Because I'm thinking that a lot of people feel the way I feel walking past the floral shop wondering; What do I have to offer? What if I just want to explore this Jesus, look around a bit, you know? Am I, I mean, are we, living a life aware of those around us, are we welcoming them into our lives, into our stories regardless of their relational "status" with Christ? Because if not, then something is not quite right, not quite right at all.
I haven't found a church to attend yet down here in Charlotte, though I've visited a few. The first week down here was a bit difficult. I felt like this God of mine was only recognized in West Michigan. I felt a bit lonely in my faith. I remember hearing one time about this lady who went to church over and over again, yet didn't necessarily consider herself a Christian. Upon the inquiry of as to why she kept attending she simply stated, "because I loved the smell." Apparently, there was a sweet smell in the building of the church.
I remember hearing this story and thinking, I want to smell Christ. I want to smell Him. Oh, how beautiful, I thought. My first visit to a church down here blessed me with the sweet fragrances of Christ and community. Though the church I visited will not be where I attend regularly, there was a scent, a familiar scent, different denomination than growing up, but same scent - and being far from home, I somehow felt home. I'm not sure if it was the "sense" of community, scents, get it? (ha, okay sorry) or simply Christ. Whatever it was, I smelled something there, something I smelled all growing up and something I must tend to smell when I am aware of Christ's presence. (oh as a disclaimer, there is the off chance that this smell of the church could be attributed to all the old men's cologne phew-eee! haha).
But just as I bet this floral shop would be sweet fragrances to my sense of smell, so too, should our living be that of sweet aromas pleasing to Christ and to those we encounter.
Oh, and I haven't even mentioned the best part. The name of this floral shop? The Blossom Shop. How great is that! Through Christ we blossom into something beautiful! Of course, how perfect!
Cheering you on as you immerse yourselves amongst the world, reflecting life of adventure and enchantment as you, through your daily living, release pleasing aromas to the Father.
May you find yourselves blossoming into something a bit more like Christ every day.
Kaylee
So I live about 7 blocks (or .7 miles) from work. Given the fact that there are limited funds coming into my bank account and the fact that 7 blocks really isn't all that far, I feel it would be simply silly and quite irresponsible to drive to work; therefore, I walk. It's a lovely thing - to start your morning off with fresh air, blood flow, and some quiet time. I find it lends itself to a great way to "prepare" for the day...Now, the walk home is a whole 'nother story; eh just kidding, the walk home serves as a stress reliever which that, too, is a very beautiful thing, sort of necessity, if you will.
Seeing as I've been here about a month and the fact that I often have additional training on Saturdays means that I have completed this walk numerous times. On this walk, I pass by a floral shop. It appears quite quaint and more than anything it radiates of enchantment. For whatever reason I have this overwhelming desire to step into the floral shop. The shop sticks out far above the other shops I pass. It could be because of it's location. It's closer than the other businesses that I pass (the Bi-Lo Grocery store, in particular, sets itself back a few hundred yards. And I must admit, I have found myself in the Bi-Lo oh too many times since my arrival to Charlotte, ha).
I walked past the floral shop the other day and once again found myself completely enchanted by this little shop. I wanted to step into it so badly. I feel invited by it....I'm not exactly sure why I haven't stepped in yet. Perhaps, I don't really have the time, nor make the time. Perhaps, it's because I don't have the money to buy flowers so I feel as if I don't belong in the store. I mean people don't typically really want to help you unless you're going to purchase something. So I suppose that would lend me more as a nuisance. The thing is though, I really want to go into this floral shop. I haven't made it in yet but I have this feeling if I did, I would meet the most wonderful people. I just have this feeling it would be so. And I bet the aroma is magnificent! (hmm, with a smile on my face I take a deep breath as I write this, just imagining the beautiful smells).
As I passed it this time round I thought, if my heart is awakened this much by such an adorable place, God must be in this. So I got to thinking.
This floral shop was enticing. It was something I wanted to explore, to know more about. What do I, as a Christian look like...Am I like this floral shop? Do people see me and feel compelled to know more, learn more, explore more? Does my life sing of adventure, life abundant, and enchantment?
I'm wondering if it's possible for Christians to look like this floral shop...are we immersed into communities...into loving people? Or are we set back, waiting for people to come to us? And when we do immerse ourselves are we filled with mystery, glory, and love? Does our living offer a sort of enticing appeal? Call it an invitation? Do people want to step in and see what we have to offer? And, even more, are we welcoming those who step in? Because I'm thinking that a lot of people feel the way I feel walking past the floral shop wondering; What do I have to offer? What if I just want to explore this Jesus, look around a bit, you know? Am I, I mean, are we, living a life aware of those around us, are we welcoming them into our lives, into our stories regardless of their relational "status" with Christ? Because if not, then something is not quite right, not quite right at all.
I haven't found a church to attend yet down here in Charlotte, though I've visited a few. The first week down here was a bit difficult. I felt like this God of mine was only recognized in West Michigan. I felt a bit lonely in my faith. I remember hearing one time about this lady who went to church over and over again, yet didn't necessarily consider herself a Christian. Upon the inquiry of as to why she kept attending she simply stated, "because I loved the smell." Apparently, there was a sweet smell in the building of the church.
I remember hearing this story and thinking, I want to smell Christ. I want to smell Him. Oh, how beautiful, I thought. My first visit to a church down here blessed me with the sweet fragrances of Christ and community. Though the church I visited will not be where I attend regularly, there was a scent, a familiar scent, different denomination than growing up, but same scent - and being far from home, I somehow felt home. I'm not sure if it was the "sense" of community, scents, get it? (ha, okay sorry) or simply Christ. Whatever it was, I smelled something there, something I smelled all growing up and something I must tend to smell when I am aware of Christ's presence. (oh as a disclaimer, there is the off chance that this smell of the church could be attributed to all the old men's cologne phew-eee! haha).
But just as I bet this floral shop would be sweet fragrances to my sense of smell, so too, should our living be that of sweet aromas pleasing to Christ and to those we encounter.
Oh, and I haven't even mentioned the best part. The name of this floral shop? The Blossom Shop. How great is that! Through Christ we blossom into something beautiful! Of course, how perfect!
Cheering you on as you immerse yourselves amongst the world, reflecting life of adventure and enchantment as you, through your daily living, release pleasing aromas to the Father.
May you find yourselves blossoming into something a bit more like Christ every day.
Kaylee
Structure out of chaos.
Good Afternoon Y'all.
First of all, I must say, since moving down south I'm truly fascinated with the fact that people truly do say y’all and I'm informed that all y'alls is the plural of y'all. How great is that! My goal for the next year that I'm down here is to correctly use the word y'all in a sentence, in the correct context, and in sure flow of conversation, meaning that I don't force myself to say it. It'll just come out. I figure once that happens I can consider myself a true southerner, ha!
I currently find myself living in Charlotte, NC. I am serving 10.5 months in the AmeriCorps working as the Casework Management Coordinator for American Red Cross - and I love it all! I could sing wonders for days pertaining to the wonderful, interesting, broken, hurting, devastated, and most importantly beautiful, beautiful clients I get to help. Ah, but that would take days, so saying that I love it all will have to suffice for now in regards to summarizing my experience thus far.
Moving on, structure out of chaos.
I was out doing some errands the other day. As we all know summer is the time for road construction. I feel completely surrounded by it these days. There is this particular stretch close to my townhouse that is utter chaos. I think all four lanes are torn up, orange cones everywhere, and then at times part of one lane will be paved so you dip in and out while driving. It's a mess. Well it seems as if they have finally conquered this absolute mess and completed the paving portion of the construction. While attacking these errands, I found myself driving on this newly paved road, which for some odd reason I find completely refreshing. It's kind of like roller-blading on newly paved cement. Something about it..ahh, the wheels...so smooth.
Anyway, I find myself on this newly paved road, right? And due to the fact I like new cement I thought I would love it, but what I found was utter chaos. Complete and total confusion. You see the road lines hadn't been painted yet. So I was driving around on a blank sheet of concrete with no idea as to how to navigate myself in a straight line (ha, Matt and Chris, just so you know, I apparently must still drive like packman - eating the center lines). I may not drive on the center of the road but the lines at least keep me on the road, ha.
Oh and just so you remember, I've only recently moved down to Charlotte so I'm not all that great at directions. On this errand, I had a decent idea of how to get to my final destination, but how soon I'd come upon it and exactly where it was, was a little vague.
So here I am driving…I know I want to end up at the post office and I kind of know how to get there but the thing standing between me and the post office was this non-painted concrete road. The thing is, I was driving with lines on the road up until a certain point and then all of a sudden, there were no lines. I became frantic. I felt confused. There were other cars coming at me, beside me, and behind me. I could see that stop lights were ahead but had no way of staying focused on anything beyond my immediate moment of driving. I had no way to prepare for what was coming and really, to be honest, I was in all kinds of disarray.
Good news is eventually I landed myself safely into the parking lot of the post office.
But why would I bring this up in relation to Christ?
Oh, I just knew you'd ask.
I see Christ all over this. I suppose I see God working in anything that is chaotic. You see God stepped into chaos and created order, His creation. He is the God of order. He made things to work orderly. It wasn't until the fall of man that chaos stepped in once again. So when I see things that are disorderly, I see that the situation is in need of order.
In this case particularly, I see it so clearly in relation to my race with Christ. You see so often in life things will be going well. I think I have it all figured out and know exactly where I'm going. The crazy thing is often times I just think I know where I'm going and what's going to happen. I'll be cruising right along and then out of nowhere things don't go as I planned. Chaos and confusion step in. I know there are things up ahead but I can barely focus on the here and now. I get frustrated and anxious, nervous and worried. Things come up at me, alongside me, and up from behind me and I feel helpless in the situation.
Driving with no lines reminds me that I need a God who brings order. Chaos and confusion are part of our broken world but we have a God who makes order and brings peace into the brokenness. There are times when things will not go as planned and there are times when I feel completely helpless, but God remains faithful and He always carries me home. I always land up safely back into His arms.
What's even more beautiful about this is that God doesn't give us ten feet walls to drive in He doesn't make it so we can't see where we're going. He doesn't make it so we’re always completely blinded to the upcoming. He simply gives us guidelines. He simply makes it easier to travel down the road. The road with simple painted lines brought complete order out of the chaos, so too, with Christ. His Word, His teachings, His ways are the simple things that bring order, bring peace, land us safely into His loving ways of life. We can still see some of what lies ahead; we still get to catch all that is around us. We just get to live it in a less complicated, more beautiful way.
I continue to love God and His ways.
Cheering you on as you come to trust in a God who brings order out of chaos.
May each day flow in His ways and rest in His faithfulness.
Kaylee
First of all, I must say, since moving down south I'm truly fascinated with the fact that people truly do say y’all and I'm informed that all y'alls is the plural of y'all. How great is that! My goal for the next year that I'm down here is to correctly use the word y'all in a sentence, in the correct context, and in sure flow of conversation, meaning that I don't force myself to say it. It'll just come out. I figure once that happens I can consider myself a true southerner, ha!
I currently find myself living in Charlotte, NC. I am serving 10.5 months in the AmeriCorps working as the Casework Management Coordinator for American Red Cross - and I love it all! I could sing wonders for days pertaining to the wonderful, interesting, broken, hurting, devastated, and most importantly beautiful, beautiful clients I get to help. Ah, but that would take days, so saying that I love it all will have to suffice for now in regards to summarizing my experience thus far.
Moving on, structure out of chaos.
I was out doing some errands the other day. As we all know summer is the time for road construction. I feel completely surrounded by it these days. There is this particular stretch close to my townhouse that is utter chaos. I think all four lanes are torn up, orange cones everywhere, and then at times part of one lane will be paved so you dip in and out while driving. It's a mess. Well it seems as if they have finally conquered this absolute mess and completed the paving portion of the construction. While attacking these errands, I found myself driving on this newly paved road, which for some odd reason I find completely refreshing. It's kind of like roller-blading on newly paved cement. Something about it..ahh, the wheels...so smooth.
Anyway, I find myself on this newly paved road, right? And due to the fact I like new cement I thought I would love it, but what I found was utter chaos. Complete and total confusion. You see the road lines hadn't been painted yet. So I was driving around on a blank sheet of concrete with no idea as to how to navigate myself in a straight line (ha, Matt and Chris, just so you know, I apparently must still drive like packman - eating the center lines). I may not drive on the center of the road but the lines at least keep me on the road, ha.
Oh and just so you remember, I've only recently moved down to Charlotte so I'm not all that great at directions. On this errand, I had a decent idea of how to get to my final destination, but how soon I'd come upon it and exactly where it was, was a little vague.
So here I am driving…I know I want to end up at the post office and I kind of know how to get there but the thing standing between me and the post office was this non-painted concrete road. The thing is, I was driving with lines on the road up until a certain point and then all of a sudden, there were no lines. I became frantic. I felt confused. There were other cars coming at me, beside me, and behind me. I could see that stop lights were ahead but had no way of staying focused on anything beyond my immediate moment of driving. I had no way to prepare for what was coming and really, to be honest, I was in all kinds of disarray.
Good news is eventually I landed myself safely into the parking lot of the post office.
But why would I bring this up in relation to Christ?
Oh, I just knew you'd ask.
I see Christ all over this. I suppose I see God working in anything that is chaotic. You see God stepped into chaos and created order, His creation. He is the God of order. He made things to work orderly. It wasn't until the fall of man that chaos stepped in once again. So when I see things that are disorderly, I see that the situation is in need of order.
In this case particularly, I see it so clearly in relation to my race with Christ. You see so often in life things will be going well. I think I have it all figured out and know exactly where I'm going. The crazy thing is often times I just think I know where I'm going and what's going to happen. I'll be cruising right along and then out of nowhere things don't go as I planned. Chaos and confusion step in. I know there are things up ahead but I can barely focus on the here and now. I get frustrated and anxious, nervous and worried. Things come up at me, alongside me, and up from behind me and I feel helpless in the situation.
Driving with no lines reminds me that I need a God who brings order. Chaos and confusion are part of our broken world but we have a God who makes order and brings peace into the brokenness. There are times when things will not go as planned and there are times when I feel completely helpless, but God remains faithful and He always carries me home. I always land up safely back into His arms.
What's even more beautiful about this is that God doesn't give us ten feet walls to drive in He doesn't make it so we can't see where we're going. He doesn't make it so we’re always completely blinded to the upcoming. He simply gives us guidelines. He simply makes it easier to travel down the road. The road with simple painted lines brought complete order out of the chaos, so too, with Christ. His Word, His teachings, His ways are the simple things that bring order, bring peace, land us safely into His loving ways of life. We can still see some of what lies ahead; we still get to catch all that is around us. We just get to live it in a less complicated, more beautiful way.
I continue to love God and His ways.
Cheering you on as you come to trust in a God who brings order out of chaos.
May each day flow in His ways and rest in His faithfulness.
Kaylee
Keychain for Patience.
Hello all.
I know, it's taken me forever to write, but to be honest things just aren't flying at my left and right. God’s working on me in a very intimate way, and in His timing. So I share what I feel I ought to share. This may sound sort of silly, but after some journaling tonight I thought I’d share some of my thoughts.
Hey God, it's been a while. I've sort of been in a funk. To be honest, I’m not really sure what to think of you. No, of course I know you're real, and of course I know you love me and all that good stuff. It just seems as if I'm sort of a dork...I feel a little overwhelmed with myself. I'm not sure how to understand how you work in this world. I mean yeah you created it, but I don’t understand why your ways are such. Why good things happen in time. I'm not sure why patience seems so key to everything...yet, I’m thinking it's one of the hardest things for us humans to obtain. And yet without patience, we humans can be so destructive. Honking our horns, getting upset at the lady with 11 items in the 10 item check out, nasty words flying everywhere...what funny people we are and yet you choose to love us anyway....
It seems as if love is the key to the way of Christ and patience is the chain the key is on; putting strain or giving length to it.
Patience is like a keychain. Odd analogy I realize.
I think it's funny that my immediate desire is almost always everything of this world and too often not what God's desires.
Oh, that God would teach me His patience. That my heart would immediately desire His heart's desires. That my heart would beat like His.
So much to learn about myself and so much to know about myself. I want God to teach me the true desires of my heart given to me for His plan. I want Him to teach me who I am, to teach me who I was created to be, to use me in every way designed and crafted for His plan.
It’s beautiful to think that before time began, He knew that today March 1 at 10:11 pm I'd be writing Him. He knew exactly where my heart would be. Seeing as He knows me best, I suppose I should give my all to Him; release my heart's desire to the mercy of His plan.
Cheering you on as we all strive to become a little more patient, and as you each unravel the treasures of your heart that Christ created in you.
May God show you the desires of your heart. May He take you deeper and deeper into His love.
Kaylee
I know, it's taken me forever to write, but to be honest things just aren't flying at my left and right. God’s working on me in a very intimate way, and in His timing. So I share what I feel I ought to share. This may sound sort of silly, but after some journaling tonight I thought I’d share some of my thoughts.
Hey God, it's been a while. I've sort of been in a funk. To be honest, I’m not really sure what to think of you. No, of course I know you're real, and of course I know you love me and all that good stuff. It just seems as if I'm sort of a dork...I feel a little overwhelmed with myself. I'm not sure how to understand how you work in this world. I mean yeah you created it, but I don’t understand why your ways are such. Why good things happen in time. I'm not sure why patience seems so key to everything...yet, I’m thinking it's one of the hardest things for us humans to obtain. And yet without patience, we humans can be so destructive. Honking our horns, getting upset at the lady with 11 items in the 10 item check out, nasty words flying everywhere...what funny people we are and yet you choose to love us anyway....
It seems as if love is the key to the way of Christ and patience is the chain the key is on; putting strain or giving length to it.
Patience is like a keychain. Odd analogy I realize.
I think it's funny that my immediate desire is almost always everything of this world and too often not what God's desires.
Oh, that God would teach me His patience. That my heart would immediately desire His heart's desires. That my heart would beat like His.
So much to learn about myself and so much to know about myself. I want God to teach me the true desires of my heart given to me for His plan. I want Him to teach me who I am, to teach me who I was created to be, to use me in every way designed and crafted for His plan.
It’s beautiful to think that before time began, He knew that today March 1 at 10:11 pm I'd be writing Him. He knew exactly where my heart would be. Seeing as He knows me best, I suppose I should give my all to Him; release my heart's desire to the mercy of His plan.
Cheering you on as we all strive to become a little more patient, and as you each unravel the treasures of your heart that Christ created in you.
May God show you the desires of your heart. May He take you deeper and deeper into His love.
Kaylee
God in all things.
Hey Everyone.
Have an absolutely fantastic day with God and me cheering you on!
Yeah, crazy thought isn't it? God cheering us on. But He does. I feel like too often I expect God's form of cheering to be a direct shout in my ear. But then I got to thinking. Maybe God is cheering us on in His own creative way. (Don’t get me wrong, sometimes He really may shout in our ears, ha ha) But wasn't He the God in the eye of the hurricane? That still small voice. So maybe He's cheering us on through ways we never expected.
Maybe a smile from someone or a hug from someone.
Maybe it's in the joy we receive from giving.
Maybe it's in the peace beyond all understanding that we get in moments of strife.
Or maybe He cheers through nature.
Maybe the rain is His way of saying, "Hey, I’m cleansing you. Keep going."
Flowers are His way of saying, "Look how beautiful I make things in time and in its proper season. Trust in Me."
Thunderstorms are His way of saying, "Wow, I'm big. Do you trust me?"
Fruit is His way of saying, "Look how I provide for you. Have no worries. I'll take care of you."
Rocks are His way of saying, "Look how solid and strong I am. I will never fail you."
Water is His way of saying, "I'm essential for your body, for life and I'm here for you to dive into."
Oh I’m sure there's so many ways God is cheering you on, but for now, how is God Cheering you on today?
Cheering you on in my little humanness while Christ Cheers us on as our Savior and Lord! Oh I love it.
May He speak words of encouragement in all that surrounds you.
Kaylee
Have an absolutely fantastic day with God and me cheering you on!
Yeah, crazy thought isn't it? God cheering us on. But He does. I feel like too often I expect God's form of cheering to be a direct shout in my ear. But then I got to thinking. Maybe God is cheering us on in His own creative way. (Don’t get me wrong, sometimes He really may shout in our ears, ha ha) But wasn't He the God in the eye of the hurricane? That still small voice. So maybe He's cheering us on through ways we never expected.
Maybe a smile from someone or a hug from someone.
Maybe it's in the joy we receive from giving.
Maybe it's in the peace beyond all understanding that we get in moments of strife.
Or maybe He cheers through nature.
Maybe the rain is His way of saying, "Hey, I’m cleansing you. Keep going."
Flowers are His way of saying, "Look how beautiful I make things in time and in its proper season. Trust in Me."
Thunderstorms are His way of saying, "Wow, I'm big. Do you trust me?"
Fruit is His way of saying, "Look how I provide for you. Have no worries. I'll take care of you."
Rocks are His way of saying, "Look how solid and strong I am. I will never fail you."
Water is His way of saying, "I'm essential for your body, for life and I'm here for you to dive into."
Oh I’m sure there's so many ways God is cheering you on, but for now, how is God Cheering you on today?
Cheering you on in my little humanness while Christ Cheers us on as our Savior and Lord! Oh I love it.
May He speak words of encouragement in all that surrounds you.
Kaylee
The best romantic ever.
Hi all.
So I’m sort of a sucker for romance. Okay, okay, I’m a complete and total hopeless romantic. And I’ve sort of been in a funny mood recently. You know the mood where you trust that God has a wonderful love story to write for you, but you wonder if He's even picked up the pen to write it.
Anyway, I have a confession. Sometimes, I have really profound thoughts (stop laughing, I really do, not very often, ha ha, but it happens.) And sometimes I learn something new. I get super stoked about it and then want so badly for someone to share in the excitement I’m experiencing. So basically, I have many wonderful moments that I feel I experience all by myself and that no one will ever be able to "re-capture" it with me, at least not exactly.
The other day I found myself asking, "God, who's going to know all these amazing thoughts I have. (Am I struggling with pride here? ha ha) God who's going to know exactly what I’m experiencing right now? And who's going to...? And this? And...and?" I found myself wondering who was going to know me. All of me. And I mean really know me. Then in my whiniest, most pathetic voice, with a hint of cry, I said, "And God” - in between sobs - “Who's going to bring me flow---errs?"
In my little heart I heard, "Kaylee, I bring you flowers every spring. More flowers than you could ever imagine. And Kaylee Hendrickson, I know your every thought. You don't even have to re-tell the amazing moment so I can sort of relate. I was actually right there with you through that moment. I completely relate and know your story. I know every fiber of your being and I adore who I made you to be."
This thought somehow allows me to let out a big sigh of relief, live for today, and wait patiently for all that He has in store.
Cheering you on in whatever relational status you find yourself in.
May each one of you know that you are completely and totally romantically involved with Christ, and may you see His signs of affection for you that are all over the place. For example…flowers.
Kaylee
So I’m sort of a sucker for romance. Okay, okay, I’m a complete and total hopeless romantic. And I’ve sort of been in a funny mood recently. You know the mood where you trust that God has a wonderful love story to write for you, but you wonder if He's even picked up the pen to write it.
Anyway, I have a confession. Sometimes, I have really profound thoughts (stop laughing, I really do, not very often, ha ha, but it happens.) And sometimes I learn something new. I get super stoked about it and then want so badly for someone to share in the excitement I’m experiencing. So basically, I have many wonderful moments that I feel I experience all by myself and that no one will ever be able to "re-capture" it with me, at least not exactly.
The other day I found myself asking, "God, who's going to know all these amazing thoughts I have. (Am I struggling with pride here? ha ha) God who's going to know exactly what I’m experiencing right now? And who's going to...? And this? And...and?" I found myself wondering who was going to know me. All of me. And I mean really know me. Then in my whiniest, most pathetic voice, with a hint of cry, I said, "And God” - in between sobs - “Who's going to bring me flow---errs?"
In my little heart I heard, "Kaylee, I bring you flowers every spring. More flowers than you could ever imagine. And Kaylee Hendrickson, I know your every thought. You don't even have to re-tell the amazing moment so I can sort of relate. I was actually right there with you through that moment. I completely relate and know your story. I know every fiber of your being and I adore who I made you to be."
This thought somehow allows me to let out a big sigh of relief, live for today, and wait patiently for all that He has in store.
Cheering you on in whatever relational status you find yourself in.
May each one of you know that you are completely and totally romantically involved with Christ, and may you see His signs of affection for you that are all over the place. For example…flowers.
Kaylee
God in street signs.
Hey.
First off, I’m so sorry that I haven't been sending more of these. I've been seeing God all over the place. Really, I have. It's just that I’ve been finding myself super busy (which don't get me wrong I’m thankful for all the things I am blessed to do). It just gets tiring and doesn't allow for a lot of "free time" to write.
Moving on, saw another billboard the other day. It was great. It read:
Open Heart Center
Oh how wonderful is that! I suppose this one doesn't need too much explanation but; nonetheless, I have the time now so I’m going to take the time to at least share what it means for me.
Open heart center. What would a community look like if it were an open heart center?
Maybe people would be open for God's love to flow in their hearts. Maybe people would leave their hearts open enough so that love could flow onto others as well. Maybe people would be able to completely 100% open up their hearts and share their joys, their struggles, their pains, their moments of complete awe of God, and so much more. Maybe people would feel connected rather than alone, loved rather than hated, accepted rather than rejected, helped, given hope, encouraged, inspired, known, understood and unconditionally loved.
Maybe. And maybe it would be beautiful.
Cheering you on as your hearts open up to all that life entails.
May you feel others opening their hearts to you and may we, followers of Christ, be known as the community with the open heart center.
Kaylee
First off, I’m so sorry that I haven't been sending more of these. I've been seeing God all over the place. Really, I have. It's just that I’ve been finding myself super busy (which don't get me wrong I’m thankful for all the things I am blessed to do). It just gets tiring and doesn't allow for a lot of "free time" to write.
Moving on, saw another billboard the other day. It was great. It read:
Open Heart Center
Oh how wonderful is that! I suppose this one doesn't need too much explanation but; nonetheless, I have the time now so I’m going to take the time to at least share what it means for me.
Open heart center. What would a community look like if it were an open heart center?
Maybe people would be open for God's love to flow in their hearts. Maybe people would leave their hearts open enough so that love could flow onto others as well. Maybe people would be able to completely 100% open up their hearts and share their joys, their struggles, their pains, their moments of complete awe of God, and so much more. Maybe people would feel connected rather than alone, loved rather than hated, accepted rather than rejected, helped, given hope, encouraged, inspired, known, understood and unconditionally loved.
Maybe. And maybe it would be beautiful.
Cheering you on as your hearts open up to all that life entails.
May you feel others opening their hearts to you and may we, followers of Christ, be known as the community with the open heart center.
Kaylee
God in driver's training.
Hi Everyone.
The other day, I’m sitting on the Wealthy exit ramp and a car drives by in front of me. On top of this car sat sort of a teepee like structure that read:
A+ Student Driver A+
Oh no, way too funny, I thought, as I sat laughing for quite some time waiting for my light to turn green. Why was this teepee like structure so funny? Probably had something to do with the idea that most of us would not rate student drivers in the A+ category. I mean seriously, I’m still somewhere in the D range (for those of you who don't know freshman year I road tripped it to Florida with some friends in my car. By the end of the trip I was not allowed to drive my own car and told I drove like packman...you know, because I ate the center lines).
Moving on, I just wanted to point out that sometimes others may not view us as A+ people, or A+ Christians. So often we even judge ourselves as failures. Give ourselves an F. At times I find myself thinking, what is God thinking about me right now? You’re so impatient. You weren't very respectful there. Why are you so selfish? But then I have to remind myself of God's unconditional love, and that He doesn't grade me. He loves me. I think we'd all be pleasantly surprised by what God has to say about us. Maybe it's something more like, "Thanks for helping that person. Remember when you listened? Remember when you controlled your tongue? Thanks for sharing. I used you there; look how I’m using you now. Look at how you love. Well done."
It’s funny I’ve never heard anything about getting to Heaven and hearing, "Wow, you really stunk it up done there." I’ve always thought we’d hear, "Well done my good and faithful servant."
Cheering you on as you come to know that we can unconditionally love ourselves just as Christ unconditionally loves us.
May you start looking at yourself as an A+ Child of God A+. Yes, we struggle, who doesn't?) But hey, well done. Continue to be good and faithful servants!
Kaylee
The other day, I’m sitting on the Wealthy exit ramp and a car drives by in front of me. On top of this car sat sort of a teepee like structure that read:
A+ Student Driver A+
Oh no, way too funny, I thought, as I sat laughing for quite some time waiting for my light to turn green. Why was this teepee like structure so funny? Probably had something to do with the idea that most of us would not rate student drivers in the A+ category. I mean seriously, I’m still somewhere in the D range (for those of you who don't know freshman year I road tripped it to Florida with some friends in my car. By the end of the trip I was not allowed to drive my own car and told I drove like packman...you know, because I ate the center lines).
Moving on, I just wanted to point out that sometimes others may not view us as A+ people, or A+ Christians. So often we even judge ourselves as failures. Give ourselves an F. At times I find myself thinking, what is God thinking about me right now? You’re so impatient. You weren't very respectful there. Why are you so selfish? But then I have to remind myself of God's unconditional love, and that He doesn't grade me. He loves me. I think we'd all be pleasantly surprised by what God has to say about us. Maybe it's something more like, "Thanks for helping that person. Remember when you listened? Remember when you controlled your tongue? Thanks for sharing. I used you there; look how I’m using you now. Look at how you love. Well done."
It’s funny I’ve never heard anything about getting to Heaven and hearing, "Wow, you really stunk it up done there." I’ve always thought we’d hear, "Well done my good and faithful servant."
Cheering you on as you come to know that we can unconditionally love ourselves just as Christ unconditionally loves us.
May you start looking at yourself as an A+ Child of God A+. Yes, we struggle, who doesn't?) But hey, well done. Continue to be good and faithful servants!
Kaylee
Let's run.
Hello.
So I get out of my car today (heading to class) and instantly I see this girl frantically running. No, it wasn't out of panic. It was more out of excitement. And this wasn't just any run, her arms were flip-floppin' every which way and her hair was just swooshing all over the place. It appeared to be some sort of fast pace dance or something. This run was completely filled with unexplainable joy. It was by far the funniest run I have ever seen, backpack and all just flapping all around. I have no idea where this girl was running to; I saw her bend around a few cars, and then sort of disappear. I looked for her, but I couldn’t define where she went exactly. Maybe she was running because she saw a friend she hadn't seen in a while, maybe she was just really excited to get to the warmth of her car, and maybe just maybe she was running for the sake of running. Nevertheless, this girl was running ridiculously and running with all she had. I must admit for a very split moment in time, I mean nano second I thought, wow, that's kind of dorky, but that thought quickly blew over as I began to laugh, and a part of me wished I could have joined this girl in her dorky run. It looked sort of fun --- I wish I knew what her destination was that made her run like she did.
So then what did I do? I asked, "God, where are you?" And then it hit me. Her run was exactly how I want my running with Christ to look like. So free, so fun! I wanted to run with her kind of passion and excitement.
I began to wonder. What if we all ran our race like this? What would it look like for us to run so that people passing by would look at us and say, "Wow that's kind of dorky...I want to join." And when they join in, maybe we'll be able to tell them why we're running and who we're running to because I'd sure love to know why she was running so fervently.
What would our running look like?
Would our running have to be completely and totally in the freedom of Christ: forgiven, accepted, and loved?
Would we have to be just like this girl, totally carefree of what the world thought of her as long as she was bringing glory to God?
Would we have to be filled with unexplainable joy?
Would our running intrigue people so much that they'd want to join in?
I sure hope so.
Cheering you on as you run like you’ve never run before.
May you run with all that you have.
Kaylee
So I get out of my car today (heading to class) and instantly I see this girl frantically running. No, it wasn't out of panic. It was more out of excitement. And this wasn't just any run, her arms were flip-floppin' every which way and her hair was just swooshing all over the place. It appeared to be some sort of fast pace dance or something. This run was completely filled with unexplainable joy. It was by far the funniest run I have ever seen, backpack and all just flapping all around. I have no idea where this girl was running to; I saw her bend around a few cars, and then sort of disappear. I looked for her, but I couldn’t define where she went exactly. Maybe she was running because she saw a friend she hadn't seen in a while, maybe she was just really excited to get to the warmth of her car, and maybe just maybe she was running for the sake of running. Nevertheless, this girl was running ridiculously and running with all she had. I must admit for a very split moment in time, I mean nano second I thought, wow, that's kind of dorky, but that thought quickly blew over as I began to laugh, and a part of me wished I could have joined this girl in her dorky run. It looked sort of fun --- I wish I knew what her destination was that made her run like she did.
So then what did I do? I asked, "God, where are you?" And then it hit me. Her run was exactly how I want my running with Christ to look like. So free, so fun! I wanted to run with her kind of passion and excitement.
I began to wonder. What if we all ran our race like this? What would it look like for us to run so that people passing by would look at us and say, "Wow that's kind of dorky...I want to join." And when they join in, maybe we'll be able to tell them why we're running and who we're running to because I'd sure love to know why she was running so fervently.
What would our running look like?
Would our running have to be completely and totally in the freedom of Christ: forgiven, accepted, and loved?
Would we have to be just like this girl, totally carefree of what the world thought of her as long as she was bringing glory to God?
Would we have to be filled with unexplainable joy?
Would our running intrigue people so much that they'd want to join in?
I sure hope so.
Cheering you on as you run like you’ve never run before.
May you run with all that you have.
Kaylee
Ice, Ice Baby.
Hello Everyone.
"The Lord is not slow at keeping His promise as some understand slowness.
He is patient with you..." 2 Peter 3:9
What, you want a word picture? Okay.
Recently in the morning, I get all ready for school, or the what-nots of my life. I head out to my car and in an instant I'm automatically frustrated. My car is always covered with snow or ice. Sometimes it's on the outside of my car and sometimes it's on the inside of my car. (the ice that is, although sometimes the snow gets in there too) Anyways, I end up spending much of my precious time either dusting my car off or scraping my car free from the icing it has received over the previous night.
What is my point? That I could just take off with my car covered with ice and snow but it wouldn't be very safe. I may or may not make it to my destination safely (this has nothing to do with my actual driving because that's just unsafe in and of itself...oops). And I always fail to remember that in taking the time to dust my car off, my car gets to warm up. And I like the feeling of being warm, as opposed to freezing, as I drive to my desired location.
God knows that we have "icings" and "snow coverings" all over our hearts. These don't necessarily mean negative things but things that just need to be worked out. We can "risk it," or we can wait for His timing and make sure that we get the best. So often, we get impatient and want to drive right through life, failing to see how God's "timing" functions as He cleans, shapes, molds, and "de-ices" our hearts so the journey can be at its best. We fail to understand that He doesn't hold out on us. In fact, He holds out His hand to guide us through our moments of impatience and confusion. And when His time finally fits into our time, we're all "warm" and we feel better about the drive, the journey. I love how patient He is with us as we de-snow, de-ice, and de-freeze.
I know a lot of you are "waiting" on God; for healing, for understanding, for wisdom, for patience, for Him to take away certain feelings, or to give you certain feelings, to work things out in certain situations. Maybe you're waiting for something to happen with your child or your spouse. Maybe you're waiting on a job, waiting for the "one," the next phase of life, graduation. You know where your "wait" is. May you know that God is working right now. May you trust that these things are already at work, coming soon to your heart (I sound like some advertisement for a movie). In His time.
Random story if you have the time. In high school, I would take off out of the driveway with a foot of snow on my car. After many warnings, my mom finally said, "Kaylee, if I see you drive out of that driveway one more time with snow on that car, I’m taking the car away from you"- oops! I’ll admit, now that years have passed, that when I would take off with that much snow on my car, the snow would fly off the hood of my car and nearly blind me while driving down the road - caused sort of a white-out condition. Maybe my mom was on to something.
Cheering you on as God defrosts your heart.
May you find comfort in the ways of His timing.
Kaylee
"The Lord is not slow at keeping His promise as some understand slowness.
He is patient with you..." 2 Peter 3:9
What, you want a word picture? Okay.
Recently in the morning, I get all ready for school, or the what-nots of my life. I head out to my car and in an instant I'm automatically frustrated. My car is always covered with snow or ice. Sometimes it's on the outside of my car and sometimes it's on the inside of my car. (the ice that is, although sometimes the snow gets in there too) Anyways, I end up spending much of my precious time either dusting my car off or scraping my car free from the icing it has received over the previous night.
What is my point? That I could just take off with my car covered with ice and snow but it wouldn't be very safe. I may or may not make it to my destination safely (this has nothing to do with my actual driving because that's just unsafe in and of itself...oops). And I always fail to remember that in taking the time to dust my car off, my car gets to warm up. And I like the feeling of being warm, as opposed to freezing, as I drive to my desired location.
God knows that we have "icings" and "snow coverings" all over our hearts. These don't necessarily mean negative things but things that just need to be worked out. We can "risk it," or we can wait for His timing and make sure that we get the best. So often, we get impatient and want to drive right through life, failing to see how God's "timing" functions as He cleans, shapes, molds, and "de-ices" our hearts so the journey can be at its best. We fail to understand that He doesn't hold out on us. In fact, He holds out His hand to guide us through our moments of impatience and confusion. And when His time finally fits into our time, we're all "warm" and we feel better about the drive, the journey. I love how patient He is with us as we de-snow, de-ice, and de-freeze.
I know a lot of you are "waiting" on God; for healing, for understanding, for wisdom, for patience, for Him to take away certain feelings, or to give you certain feelings, to work things out in certain situations. Maybe you're waiting for something to happen with your child or your spouse. Maybe you're waiting on a job, waiting for the "one," the next phase of life, graduation. You know where your "wait" is. May you know that God is working right now. May you trust that these things are already at work, coming soon to your heart (I sound like some advertisement for a movie). In His time.
Random story if you have the time. In high school, I would take off out of the driveway with a foot of snow on my car. After many warnings, my mom finally said, "Kaylee, if I see you drive out of that driveway one more time with snow on that car, I’m taking the car away from you"- oops! I’ll admit, now that years have passed, that when I would take off with that much snow on my car, the snow would fly off the hood of my car and nearly blind me while driving down the road - caused sort of a white-out condition. Maybe my mom was on to something.
Cheering you on as God defrosts your heart.
May you find comfort in the ways of His timing.
Kaylee
Lousy.
Hi all.
First off, remember when I told you to take a breath in, hold it, then let it out?....yeah about that. The other night, I’m lying in bed, I take a deep breath in, something gets caught in my throat. I gag. I cough. I nearly puke, and then I breathe out...I then died laughing as I recalled that only a few days earlier I had sent an email out telling you all to relax, taking deeps breathes in and exhaling out. Hope you had a better experience with your attempt to relax.
The other day I was driving through Standale. Some of you might know of it. It’s that little town, more like a villa, that if you blink you might miss it. Apparently I didn't blink because I got a glimpse of a sign. The sign (located in front of a bowling alley) read:
Lousy Bowler League
Sign ups Inside
Oh, I laughed. And laughed hard I did. (And yes, it's because I’d be the best lousy bowler on the lousy bowler league) So of course, I have to ask, "where you at in that one God?" Here's what I’m thinking.
Let’s just say I was to sign up for that league, which I haven’t (at least not yet, ha). But let's just say I did. No matter what, by participating/practicing I would become better. At least I would hope I’d get better. There may be games where I bowl higher scores, and others that I bowl lower scores but overall, my skills are going to get better.
In relation to racin’.
I think we should all have signs in our hearts that say things such as: Lousy with patience. Lousy with controlling my temper. Lousy with controlling my tongue. Lousy with pride…and so on and so forth. I think we should admit to our weaknesses. Yes, fully surrender to the idea that we are not perfect, that we are flawed.
And then sign up at the best "bowling alley in the universe," God's Kingdom. Trust me, you won't be alone. You'll have a whole team that is "lousy," or for the sake of being a little less harsh, struggling with the same thing. There will be teammates who will be able to help you. There will be teammates struggling with something else, and there will be fans cheering you on. The thing is that admitting to "lousiness" and signing up for help is the first step at getting better. There will be times where you will do really well (higher scores) and then there will be times you won’t do so well (lower scores). There will even be days you have nothing but straight gutter balls. But overall, you're going to get better and better with the help of our friend, Jesus, and with the community that surrounds you. And one by one, or strike by strike, you'll knock out those pins, those struggles. I'm reminded of this verse:
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving"--Colossians 3:23-2
Just a little side note. None of you are really "lousy." Perhaps just a little "lousy at something." Each of you is a child of God, and I hope there's no confusion in that truth. And what you do won't really keep "score" with God. We all fall short. It’s just that the more we practice the better we'll get…make sense? Hope so...
So anyone signing up? For God's Kingdom, silly, not the actual bowling league. But if you do sign up for the actual bowling league, let me know. I’ll come and cheer you on, ha ha.
Cheering you all on as you continue to grow and develop your Christ-like "skills."
May you get your game faces on.
Kaylee
First off, remember when I told you to take a breath in, hold it, then let it out?....yeah about that. The other night, I’m lying in bed, I take a deep breath in, something gets caught in my throat. I gag. I cough. I nearly puke, and then I breathe out...I then died laughing as I recalled that only a few days earlier I had sent an email out telling you all to relax, taking deeps breathes in and exhaling out. Hope you had a better experience with your attempt to relax.
The other day I was driving through Standale. Some of you might know of it. It’s that little town, more like a villa, that if you blink you might miss it. Apparently I didn't blink because I got a glimpse of a sign. The sign (located in front of a bowling alley) read:
Lousy Bowler League
Sign ups Inside
Oh, I laughed. And laughed hard I did. (And yes, it's because I’d be the best lousy bowler on the lousy bowler league) So of course, I have to ask, "where you at in that one God?" Here's what I’m thinking.
Let’s just say I was to sign up for that league, which I haven’t (at least not yet, ha). But let's just say I did. No matter what, by participating/practicing I would become better. At least I would hope I’d get better. There may be games where I bowl higher scores, and others that I bowl lower scores but overall, my skills are going to get better.
In relation to racin’.
I think we should all have signs in our hearts that say things such as: Lousy with patience. Lousy with controlling my temper. Lousy with controlling my tongue. Lousy with pride…and so on and so forth. I think we should admit to our weaknesses. Yes, fully surrender to the idea that we are not perfect, that we are flawed.
And then sign up at the best "bowling alley in the universe," God's Kingdom. Trust me, you won't be alone. You'll have a whole team that is "lousy," or for the sake of being a little less harsh, struggling with the same thing. There will be teammates who will be able to help you. There will be teammates struggling with something else, and there will be fans cheering you on. The thing is that admitting to "lousiness" and signing up for help is the first step at getting better. There will be times where you will do really well (higher scores) and then there will be times you won’t do so well (lower scores). There will even be days you have nothing but straight gutter balls. But overall, you're going to get better and better with the help of our friend, Jesus, and with the community that surrounds you. And one by one, or strike by strike, you'll knock out those pins, those struggles. I'm reminded of this verse:
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving"--Colossians 3:23-2
Just a little side note. None of you are really "lousy." Perhaps just a little "lousy at something." Each of you is a child of God, and I hope there's no confusion in that truth. And what you do won't really keep "score" with God. We all fall short. It’s just that the more we practice the better we'll get…make sense? Hope so...
So anyone signing up? For God's Kingdom, silly, not the actual bowling league. But if you do sign up for the actual bowling league, let me know. I’ll come and cheer you on, ha ha.
Cheering you all on as you continue to grow and develop your Christ-like "skills."
May you get your game faces on.
Kaylee
It's not time out, it's time in.
Hello Everyone.
I'm in Kirkof today, right, and I’m looking for a spot to sit as I wait for one of my girlfriends to meet me. I want to find a calming place to sit which I presume would include a nice view. After I walk for what seemed like forever, I slumped myself down on a couch. Though it had a window, I wasn't really thinking it to be much of a view – but ‘twas all I could find As I sat there I looked out the window and what to my wondering eyes should appear, I know, I know, you're thinking reindeer, but no. And it didn't appear it was already there, but okay moving on, it was the tip of the clock tower on campus. All of a sudden it hit me...I had sat at the absolutely perfect spot. Time! The view I was experiencing and the angle I was looking at it through was a direct representation of my life.
You see, I rush so much through life, and I get so super excited anticipating future events that often times I fail at being fully present. When I fail at being present it's like looking through a window at a clock. I literally just watch time pass me by as opposed to experiencing life through the use of time. It's something I think we all tend to forget, especially considering the culture and the times we live in. Jesus knew we struggled with this concept as He said, "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life....Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself" Matthew 6:27, 34.
I’m thinking there is nothing I can do to add or take away from the timeline of my life, but there is plenty I can do to add and take away from my living... I think a lot of you can relate (at least a little) to what I’m talking about. So why worry? God is in control. Goodness will prevail. And that's all we need to know to live life. There is so much more that could be said about this, but for now I’m going to end my cheer for the day with:
Cheering you on as you live life.
May you strive to be fully present in every moment passing.
Kaylee
I'm in Kirkof today, right, and I’m looking for a spot to sit as I wait for one of my girlfriends to meet me. I want to find a calming place to sit which I presume would include a nice view. After I walk for what seemed like forever, I slumped myself down on a couch. Though it had a window, I wasn't really thinking it to be much of a view – but ‘twas all I could find As I sat there I looked out the window and what to my wondering eyes should appear, I know, I know, you're thinking reindeer, but no. And it didn't appear it was already there, but okay moving on, it was the tip of the clock tower on campus. All of a sudden it hit me...I had sat at the absolutely perfect spot. Time! The view I was experiencing and the angle I was looking at it through was a direct representation of my life.
You see, I rush so much through life, and I get so super excited anticipating future events that often times I fail at being fully present. When I fail at being present it's like looking through a window at a clock. I literally just watch time pass me by as opposed to experiencing life through the use of time. It's something I think we all tend to forget, especially considering the culture and the times we live in. Jesus knew we struggled with this concept as He said, "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life....Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself" Matthew 6:27, 34.
I’m thinking there is nothing I can do to add or take away from the timeline of my life, but there is plenty I can do to add and take away from my living... I think a lot of you can relate (at least a little) to what I’m talking about. So why worry? God is in control. Goodness will prevail. And that's all we need to know to live life. There is so much more that could be said about this, but for now I’m going to end my cheer for the day with:
Cheering you on as you live life.
May you strive to be fully present in every moment passing.
Kaylee
Growth.
Good morning (well, by the time you get this it most likely will be morning, but as for me, it’s night right now).
So apparently I just can't sleep...fair enough.
I'm lying in bed tonight, right? And I start thinking about how many amazing people God has placed in my life and how incredibly blessed I am. I get this sudden jolt of excitement about God. I become in awe of how wonderful He is, how truly great He is. But then I realize I’m not really worthy of what He gives me. So I ask, "God why do you love us so much?" and in the quiet of my heart I hear, "For moments like these, Kaylee." I started thinking more about this, and are you ready? I mean really ready, because here's the word picture.
One of my good friends has a baby girl. She's four months old. In the past few months I’ve had the great privilege of watching her develop. About a month ago or so her legs weren’t strong enough to hold herself up (you know, sort of like jello). The other night I was holding her and she did great holding herself up, her legs so impressively strong. It was like seeing a whole new little girl. Little does she know how far she’s come. In time, I know her legs are only going to get stronger and stronger. I am incredibly proud of her growth – I can only imagine how her mother feels.
It makes me think of us. We're like babies. We start out not quite understanding Christ, and a lot of our "muscles" aren't so strong. When we accept Him, it's like we just signed up for a membership at the local fitness center. God works us out every day. Some days more than others. And although we start out like jello, He shapes us into something more like gold, as He makes us stronger and stronger. Little do we really know how much we're growing and the strides we're making, yet it's His joy and honor to watch us throughout the process.
Cheering you all on as you realize that you are growing and that He is very proud of you.
May each step of the way shape you more like Him.
Kaylee
So apparently I just can't sleep...fair enough.
I'm lying in bed tonight, right? And I start thinking about how many amazing people God has placed in my life and how incredibly blessed I am. I get this sudden jolt of excitement about God. I become in awe of how wonderful He is, how truly great He is. But then I realize I’m not really worthy of what He gives me. So I ask, "God why do you love us so much?" and in the quiet of my heart I hear, "For moments like these, Kaylee." I started thinking more about this, and are you ready? I mean really ready, because here's the word picture.
One of my good friends has a baby girl. She's four months old. In the past few months I’ve had the great privilege of watching her develop. About a month ago or so her legs weren’t strong enough to hold herself up (you know, sort of like jello). The other night I was holding her and she did great holding herself up, her legs so impressively strong. It was like seeing a whole new little girl. Little does she know how far she’s come. In time, I know her legs are only going to get stronger and stronger. I am incredibly proud of her growth – I can only imagine how her mother feels.
It makes me think of us. We're like babies. We start out not quite understanding Christ, and a lot of our "muscles" aren't so strong. When we accept Him, it's like we just signed up for a membership at the local fitness center. God works us out every day. Some days more than others. And although we start out like jello, He shapes us into something more like gold, as He makes us stronger and stronger. Little do we really know how much we're growing and the strides we're making, yet it's His joy and honor to watch us throughout the process.
Cheering you all on as you realize that you are growing and that He is very proud of you.
May each step of the way shape you more like Him.
Kaylee
Defin thyself.
Hello.
I've never been a huge drinker. I'll admit I've tried it a few times in my life. I can honestly say those experiences never really came with positive outcomes and ah yeah, just hasn’t really been my thing. Well yesterday was my birthday and I turned 21 (rather than exciting, it was quite possibly more depressing to know that I had to take the time to renew my license.)
I'm going to be brutally honest with you - and let down some of my pride....I was in the shower this morning pondering my life. I started to think about the words I’ve said over and over again. The words of oh, I don’t' drink.
But now I'm 21, and it's legal to have a couple of drinks if I want. I started to realize that throughout the years, somehow the words oh, I don't drink had given me some sort of power. A very negatively notated power. I used these words as a way to set myself above others. And this morning for a brief moment I found myself very sad that I had lost this power; this idea that I’m better than you because I don’t... (I know, I know, bear with me; this is a huge pride barrier being let down here). Then it hit me...my whole life I have often defined my "Christian" self by what I do and what I don't do.
But being a Christian isn’t about what I do, or what I don’t do. My faith, my relationship with Christ, is about the way I live; how I serve, how I help, how I work, how I study, how I talk, how I listen, and so very much more.
What we do doesn’t define us. It is only by the grace of God that we are called His children. So often, I find myself like the Pharisees, saying, “I don't do this. I don't do that. I don't break this law or that law,” or even yet, “I do this. I do that. I volunteer here, and I give my money there.” And I fail to live in the grace of God and to live as He has called me to live - and that is to love Him and to love one another as He loves me.
It’s not about what I do or don’t do. It’s not about legalism. It’s about grace...And in turning 21, I’m going to live in that grace.
Cheering you on as you live a life free from legalism.
May you find yourself living in His grace every moment of every day.
Kaylee
I've never been a huge drinker. I'll admit I've tried it a few times in my life. I can honestly say those experiences never really came with positive outcomes and ah yeah, just hasn’t really been my thing. Well yesterday was my birthday and I turned 21 (rather than exciting, it was quite possibly more depressing to know that I had to take the time to renew my license.)
I'm going to be brutally honest with you - and let down some of my pride....I was in the shower this morning pondering my life. I started to think about the words I’ve said over and over again. The words of oh, I don’t' drink.
But now I'm 21, and it's legal to have a couple of drinks if I want. I started to realize that throughout the years, somehow the words oh, I don't drink had given me some sort of power. A very negatively notated power. I used these words as a way to set myself above others. And this morning for a brief moment I found myself very sad that I had lost this power; this idea that I’m better than you because I don’t... (I know, I know, bear with me; this is a huge pride barrier being let down here). Then it hit me...my whole life I have often defined my "Christian" self by what I do and what I don't do.
But being a Christian isn’t about what I do, or what I don’t do. My faith, my relationship with Christ, is about the way I live; how I serve, how I help, how I work, how I study, how I talk, how I listen, and so very much more.
What we do doesn’t define us. It is only by the grace of God that we are called His children. So often, I find myself like the Pharisees, saying, “I don't do this. I don't do that. I don't break this law or that law,” or even yet, “I do this. I do that. I volunteer here, and I give my money there.” And I fail to live in the grace of God and to live as He has called me to live - and that is to love Him and to love one another as He loves me.
It’s not about what I do or don’t do. It’s not about legalism. It’s about grace...And in turning 21, I’m going to live in that grace.
Cheering you on as you live a life free from legalism.
May you find yourself living in His grace every moment of every day.
Kaylee
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