How to be honest?

This has been one of those very difficult weeks. One where it seems everything is going wrong and requires your attention, but there is something else pressing for the entirety of your thoughts and time, in this case: midterms.

And it's not the sort of messes you can actually clean up anyways, it's the sort you have to wade through and wait out.

These weeks are hard and I sometimes find myself wishing life would just be easy. But then again, I don't. I know many of you are reading this and thinking 'silly girl, your life is easy.' And it's true, I have such a wonderful life and so many blessings, and I am so wonderfully taken care of (I've reminded myself of this, this week). But then it comes down to the fact that my troubles are real, and my worries are real, and my pains are real. Like David, I feel hopeless.

And like David, I've chosen to say 'yet I will praise YOU' because I know He really is supplying my every need, and furthermore He really is growing me up and drawing me near to Him. I'd rather be a compassionate, tender woman who loves the Lord and is careful with the people in her life then one who has faced little hardship or pain and knows not how to 'handle with care.'

I've tasted the smallest measure of distinct pains, and I thank the Lord that He has but dropped my little toe in them, but I think He's strategically allowed these certain things so that I have just enough to say "I don't know what you are going through, but I know what you are going through." I know just enough to know, I don't know.

This is really me encouraging myself to persevere. This is me reminding myself that the Lord is right now working a good thing in me, and it is HIS patience with me that is my hope for ever being anything remarkable. It's His patience to walk me through these mucks and messes, and to not let me sit down in them. :)

I had an absolute brilliant thought today. I repeated it to myself so I wouldn't forget. I've been excited to blog about it.

What is it?

Oh, I don't know- I can't remember.

:/

Fail.

I'm always astounded by David. His courage to call himself righteous, blameless... and so on. To tell the Lord to search him, confident he'll be found spotless. I read some of the Psalms and I go silent. I think it was in one of those moments last week that I asked the Lord to humble me again. I know I need humility- I need reality about who I am, and who He is.

I'm sure you've all heard it said that when you ask the Lord to humble you, He always does. Well, I knew that as I said it. What I'd somehow managed to forget is that when you are humbled... you feel low...like dirt. I want the Lord to search my heart, not because I'm confident He'll find me spotless, but because I want to BE spotless. "Search me and know me" is the major cry of my heart tonight.

You have given me the shield of your salvation, and your right hand supported me, and your gentleness made me great. Psalm 18:35

Aww, I love this verse for the first time. The shield of His salvation, and His right hand right now supporting me. And His gentleness in dealing with me is my hope.

As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness. Psalm 17:15

When I awake. Lord, make me not a child. Grow me up into you.

For the daughter of the melody and light:

Someone brushed her arm with theirs, another’s strong cologne reached around her. She could feel people pressed close all around, yet her heart felt untouchable and her thoughts a million miles from any of these faces. She closed her eyes tight and tried again to offer all these thoughts up.

The night before she’d looked up at the stars, smiling and feeling wide open. Whatever this was in her heart, it couldn’t be shaken. She wished she could hear the stars. Standing at the car, head tilted back she'd become convinced that the constellations knew the song in her heart and if she could only listen to a star as it fell across the sky, she might be free. It would loose its hold on her. She’d be able to let go. She’d be known, and understood, a daughter of the melody and light.

A song could always make her cry, make her feel not alone, not an oddity. The right rifts could answer questions, for a moment. The music could always come so close to being right, but never really release her. Still, it was in the music she looked.

This morning she stood in the music, stood in the praise. And she begged herself to open to the King. She struggled within herself, all the while knowing the answer would have to come from outside. It would have to come from the King. She was postured to fight for it, her hands in fists, her eyes to heaven.

Just then the lyrics disappeared, and there was nothing for her to say. The instruments gave way and one sound rang out. The electric guitar let loose in the hands of a musician, the hands of a father creating the mystery in music that could loose the captive heart of one so small and hurting. She breathed deep. She let go. She didn’t even know the fullness of change, the melody of light flooding into her heart, her soul, her spirit. The song of the stars had escaped for a brief moment. She opened her eyes and with a smile said, “That’s my dad.”


“LIGHT MELODY”. I created this image as a tribute to a bright side of life. A woman dressed in a soft and flooded skirt, which is inspired by a costume of ballet dancers of the beginning of the19th century. Natural gray and white colors represent innocence and are in contrast with a highly emotional background. Sun streams into the room the moment she turns around and dancing, plays the last note. Heavy curtains part to let sunbeams in. I painted drapes in an abstract manner to show the immense importance of a bright light that symbolizes hope.
Lena Sotskova

Wonder. Realizing that I really DO need some of it, because I'm becoming too enamored by things of considerable beauty. To explain, a shooting star is exciting. In fact, it can make you night if you see one, seal that evening in your memory. However, when you watch a meteor shower, you learn that the shooting star is beautiful and spectacular, but mostly in the way it reminds you of the meteor shower. :/

I'm doing a terrible job of this. Its hard to find examples, because the truth is I LOVE finding wondrous beauty in the small things in life and I don't want to downplay them, but I DO want to make the point that something kind of common in beauty is overshadowed when you suddenly come face to face with a true WONDER. You know?

And lately, I'm just too enamored by what really should be the 'common beauty.'

This all sparked because Courtney just sent me a text, and told me she'd just wished on her eyelash that God would give her and I some wonder tonight... and I realized that wonder really is exactly what we need this evening. We need fresh perspective... childlike eyes. wonder.

Okay, I may have just failed at conveying my thought.... but I will leave it for today and perhaps try again once I have more time.. and a clearer explanation.

Peace. Really though.

Before the workers rise from their beds, before the sun turns the skies golden red, you cover the land with your rain, you let the clouds shed all their praise... and with them I make my praise plain.


[Sitting here in the UVillage Starbucks, waiting for the sun to come up and fine tuning my Architecture paper...did I mention this beautiful rain? Rain is so much better in the dark of night or early morning dawn. Good morning friends- may your today be truly blessed with His love and friendship.]

"There is no moral authority like that of sacrifice."


"As fish that swim under the weight of many dark fathoms look like any other fish but on careful examination are found to have no eyes, so writers, looking pretty much like other human beings, but moving deep under the surface of human lives, have at least some faculties of supra-observation and hyperperception not known to others. If a writer does not go down and use these- why, he's just a blind fish."


"There is no forgetting how we could live if only we could find the way."


Nadine Gordimer, The Essential Gesture

My Heart Takes Deep Breaths

My heart takes deep breaths,
Preparing my desires for another death.
Bracing itself for the years it might wait,
Drawing strength to face its written fate.
Slowing the speed of my dreams
That race away at each new scene,
Studying the script and each character's face.
If slow and steady wins the race,
Deep breaths win with Hepburn grace.

Chances are all of you have a "Kati(e/y)" in your life, so this should come as no surprise to you when I tell you that Katrina means "Pure One, Beloved." As such, I've always felt that purity is a sort of responsibility I need to learn to live up to, or rather, a quality I need embody. But I've found it's not easily understood what exactly God sees as Purity.

I know purity is defined as "Without Mixture" and most of us view it as this ilucent beauty, untouched and undirtied. To be pure, I've thought I must keep myself apart, avoid anything that might 'soil' me. But this understand was confronted when I went to the University and discovered that I was going to have to face a number of "dirty" things.... topics, discussions, conversations, literature...

My dad played a further role in offending my idea of "pure" when he challenged my basic understanding. It was then that the Lord began to show me verses like "This is pure and spotless religion, to care for the orphan and the widow." Let me tell you first hand, caring for the orphan, isn't clean and pretty. Sorry to disrupt ideals here. Christ spent his time with the prostitutes, tax collectors and sinners. He stirred up the dirt. And yet, if we know nothing else about purity, we KNOW He was pure. So our basic understanding of purity seems to fall not only short, but I've found that if I hold on to my concept of purity as it is now, I will never really fulfill HIS description of purity that I see walked out in scripture. I have shadows thus far and that is all, I know something about purity has to do with having no dualism in us. Its not in NOT seeing or touching the dirt- its in truly seeing Christ as the center of EVERYTHING and recognizing where there is distortion, and bringing light to those dark places. It's carrying a presence with us that unbends the bent, and realigns where the enemy has twisted and distorted. I know it surrounds this heart that is Christ-centered and has no dualism.

This was all sparked by a silly comment of someone regarding my purity of mind... but its been in me for the past two days, a growing frustration with our misunderstanding of purity...with MY lack of understanding of it. I want to be pure, and while I can look at characters like the great saint and see purity, I can't quite put my hands around it. So today, I am beginning my word study of purity. I especially want to know what exactly the Greek words mean when we are told that Christ is waiting for a pure and spotless bride, without blemish or wrinkle.... because wrinkle here stumps me. I am ready to have my understanding be offended again. And if this is what He is waiting for us to become, we better make sure we really get it.

I'm thinking on some of my favorite authors and quotes (a common tactic for when I have to read literature I dislike for school...'a spoonful of Lewis helps the Modernism go down.') So I opened up The Great Divorce in search of 'the great saint.' I've been thinking a lot about that character lately, the woman who's very presence makes the children love their parents more purely, and husbands love their wives more deeply. She's one of my heroes quite truly, depicting true love and purity. She makes something stir in my heart and come alive. Like a little child, I see her and think "I want to be like her someday." But I have a lot of selfish ambition and desire to be rooted out of me yet...I love connecting others, introducing different friends of mine, or simply building bridges of relationship by speaking well of those in my life. When I meet new friends and realize how well they would get along with another friend of mine, I delight in introducing them and creating an environment where they can truly connect. However, I still love too much to be loved. If I am really going to be like that great saint, I cannot take love unto myself or for myself, it must flow through me swiftly and purely.

Tyson (one of the wisest young men I know!) mentioned the other day about his posturing when he interacts with girls. He literally adjusts his heart to make sure he is "giving hugs," not ever taking them. I was shocked a bit, and told him so. You see, of all the young men, he is so strongly the essence of a brother. Girls who hardly even have relationship with him describe HIM when others ask who they see as a big brother. He gives the "safest hugs" of anyone I know, meaning, I feel safe and at peace, and cared for. I DO feel like I've received a hug. What surprised me was his intentionality. I am proud to say its clearly conveyed, because what he hopes to do, he certainly does. The connection between that and what I am really trying to say is this: If I am to become like that great saint, and in other words who I feel called to be, I cannot 'take.' Sometimes in my heart, I still want to grasp... grasp onto friends and friendships, good reputation, comfort, my own plans... It's a common re-posturing of my heart to live freely, holding on only to the Lord and His promises to me. Thats really what the 'poem' below was about... re-posturing my heart to not grasp, but to hold onto something bigger, Him. I read about the great saint Lewis depicts, and I am re-envisioned, realigned, ready to sacrifice. Great stories of wonder can do that to a person, thats why I love stories, they change our perspective... drawing us out of the mundane day to day into something grandeur. We suddenly recognize the stakes are high, and we can afford to take great risk, and make great sacrifices. We live a great story when we surround ourselves with them.

Having said that, and bragged about one of my best friends for a moment, I wanted to share one of my favorite quotes, one that is working its way through me yet again:

When you own heart's been broken it will be time for you to think of talking. But someone must say in general what's been unsaid among you this many a year: that love, as mortals understand the word, isn't enough. Every natural love will rise again and live forever in this country: but none will rise again until it has been buried.
CS Lewis, The Great Divorce

I've gained a few new followers over the last week, and I thought I'd say hello. You are a few of my favorite girls and I look forward to sharing my thoughts, revelations, writings, and crazy happenings with you through my blog. Bless you guys!

It's a wonderful moment to tell you all how much I love you and appreciate you taking the time to read through here. I know it's not always the best quality of writing, or the funniest. I especially love your comments (hint, hint). You are such wonderful people and I am blessed to walk through life with you. You each challenge and bless me in different ways, encouraging, correcting, loving and affecting me in many unique ways. Thank you each for who you are in my life. Again, I am such a blessed young woman.

Something Bigger to Hold On To

I'll press into You, with every fear and tear and heartache
I'll press into You.
I'll return to You with every thought and prayer and breath I take
I'll return to You.

Each time my heart unfolds, I'll call Your name,
Run to you, know no shame, reveal the pain.
Hold me in Your everlasting love,
Give me something bigger to hold on to.

Tell me a story, a story of wonder
Of desire and sacrifice, men called after Thunder,
That my courage may stir, and my weak heart return
To a brighter fire than any man's may burn,
To a sweeter hope than any earthly dream,
To a greater love than my heart currently sings.

I'll press into You. I'll return. Run to You, for I'm Yours.

It's so exciting to recognize that Father is daily transforming my mind, literally. This morning I think I grasped a new understanding of why He cares so much about stewardship. Ultimately, it all comes down to how we steward people. Doesn't everything come down to the people in our lives? Yes, God is first and it really all surrounds Him, but grant me this, just follow.

According to 2 Peter 3, we are waiting for a new heaven and earth. A fire is being reserved for the earth, and what will remain after that fire comes? Righteousness. The righteous. It's not ultimately about how we spend our money, its not His currency anyways. The final question isn't "did you recycle?" So why does He care SO much about how we steward our finances, jobs, gifts, talents, environment, semi-good cars, cell phones (yes, kicking myself here!), rooms, books....why does He care that we are good stewards?

Because good stewards, steward...what is put into their hands, be it $1000 or a human heart. If in the end, men and women are what remain, aren't they one of the highest examples of how good of stewards we are?

I am taking a risk here, and please do challenge this if you disagree...but as I understand it, God created this earth because He wanted US. right? He wants a family, He wants to share all the goodness that the trinity is, with mankind.

I want to be a good steward in the little things, so I can be a good steward in the big...His people, and Him. Truth remains, love remains, He remains...and you remain.

So many wonders.

Life and loviness.

I don't really even know what I'm talking about-- I think its more my heart speaking. But yes, life is full of wonder and beauty, mysteries that force us to run to the edge, trusting we wont fall off...or will, but that we'll land in something grand. Sometimes I wish I could rip open my life for all of you, not speak in code and "larger picture" words, but wisdom is a virtue ;) And besides, the "larger picture" conversations allow me to give you the gold at the end of my roads, without dragging you through the potholes. Hopefully, these posts help to transfer something from my specific situations, into yours, whatever they be.

I promised myself this would be a short blog, for I have officially begun my senior year, and the homework is already heavy upon me. With a number of commitments, and a desire to spend myself in some new ways too, I have to spend each minute where it is best invested, not where is convenient (or where I am pressured by friends to spend it--- though my heart is absolutely to be with them). So, here are my quick thoughts to fill those of you who read this to know whats going on in my life (aka, Kimberly Dawn):

I am very excited about my classes this quarter:
Honors English Seminar, which focuses on how literature interacts with cultural crisis. I think this will be one of the most important classes I take in all my college years. We are delving into the recent political situations in South Africa, and the different approaches writers took to bring about change. I wish the instructor were a little more alive (and didn't lose the entire class by her babbling down at her notes), because this subject is who I am at my core! I know little about South African politics in the 1980s-- VERY LITTLE. And as of now, I know far too little in general about world politics, but one of my recent challenges from the Lord is to cast off fear based on what I don't know-- and not let it stop me from what I'm called to know. I NEED to know these things, and you have to start somewhere.

Its been a recent revelation that what I feel called to is absolutely political. For years I felt called to be a lawyer. For one case: protect. I am too passionate about protecting the broken and hurting, the children who are abused and broken, forgotten, unborn...too passionate to not be devoted to change. But, I realized that law school didn't line up with the other desires of my heart, and a courtroom didn't really seem like my battlefield. Thats when I started to realize that my pen is my tool to bring change. I've always kept my grades and activities in such a way that if God did call me to law school at some point, I wouldn't be discredited. You see, there is still this passion to affect our culture in a political way...

I will not be a politician, so I never stand when pastor norm calls those individuals to stand...but I've been feeling convicted lately for not. I still don't know how it will all play out, but what I DO know is this, I have a heart to see my nation restored, and I have been given a gift in some measure in writing, plus a whole lot of passion. I'm called to the people. This is what I know, and this is why I am thrilled to engage this honors course, I'm praying to uncover mysteries and strategies that even the professor is unaware of, as I ask Father: How do I as a writer serve my nation, amidst crisis?

If I knock, He'll open. And if I seek, He'll answer..... I have a lot of questions. I see a great deal of wonder, mystery and beauty about me, and I intend to affect it. :)

I have two other courses too:
Astronomy.... if you know me, you probably don't need me to tell you how excited I am about this course!!!
Architecture... if you know REALLY know me, you could also guess that this class (and as my dad would say, EVERY class) is thrilling to me. I took a course last year on architecture and absolutely loved the overarching study of buildings, and the changes in how people perceived and attempted to create beauty- as well as what they found important, and what was even achievable. I especially became hooked as we reached the Gothic period in France and England. The abbot who is credited with 'creating' Gothic aimed to use the structure and aesthetic of the building to raise peoples eyes up, and recognize that all light and revelation came from God. His structure was beautiful. And watching as the technology involved with vaulting (ceilings) evolved and escalated with flying buttresses ...aww I came alive! I'd heard Mrs. Roberts talk about them in high school, but I didn't get why they were so exciting, until I watched over weeks and then suddenly saw how they opened up the structure and made it all more airy, light, beautiful. Its incredible how one person can have a revelation that changes everything! I want one of those revelations- actually, a few. I've been praying lately for solutions to real problems- for entrepreneurial ideas.

OKay, last comment and then on to homework:
TONIGHT I AM GOING TO SEE "WICKED" WITH ELISE!!! :)

I left out a critical part of my "family" revelation from Sunday morning. I actually said "This is why God wanted a family" after another piece of understanding came to me...

I only understand this as a sister, friend, and daughter, but I am sure it is intensified in the affections of a wife and mother. When I see someone love one of my loved ones, I love that person (more). Meaning, when my friends love my sisters, I love that friend even more. When Rosemary or Elise talk about how great my dad is, and they treat him like a dad in their life, my heart is all the closer to theirs.

I recently met a friend, of one of my friends from work. The first couple times I hung out with them together, I realized that this friend of my friend, was good to her. She cared for her sincerely, and looked after her, and lvoed her with a pure love...a Godly love in fact. And suddenly, I loved this new friend to, because of her love for someone I love. (confused? I hope not.)

There's more though. I've realized this is magnified when it comes to God. Almost two years ago now, I was driving to my dearest friend Rosie's house (I don't think she'll mind me telling this story--- it may embarass her though) when I had a divine encounter. She was hurting, but I knew the Lord was coming to really mend her heart in an unprecedented way. I'd been waiting all evening for her call, and when it came, I flew out the door...as I drove, I started praying in tongues and it turned into a song. And then I just started to really sing over her and to her (alone in my car...). And something came over me like I have only felt 3 or 4 times. I started to bawl as I felt like I touched a piece of Father's love for her- a passion and intensity that I'd never even felt from Him toward me. The words coming out of my own mouth were wrecking me. By the time I reacher her door, I couldn't even contain the love. I'd felt a piece of what Father felt for His Rosemary Grace and it wasn't almost enough to destroy me.

It changed a lot of things. It changed the way I dared to talk to her, treat her, the level of grace I had for her. And, it made me love her so much more even. But, it also made me love God unbelievably more. I cared about Rosie deeply, and when I discovered how much He cared about her, and how He took better care of her then I ever could, my heart was joined deeper to His.

THIS is why God wanted a family- love mulitiplies in a family. I love Kim more for her love for Kris, and vice versa. It touches my dad's heart when I really express love to my mom...and speak highly of her. This is His intention...

The larger the community, the greater possible expression of love. Love multiplies.

There are those who I have very little relationship with, but the witness of their love for my loved ones has built a bridge already, and I look forward to crossing each of those someday. This is also the power of speaking highly of one another- of dwelling and speaking about that which is beautiful, lovely, pure, true, admirable (etc)--- it multiplies it.

I have never been a "Bigger is better" person (EVER), but this Sunday, I was...and am. I can make more room for people in my close circles, because I see that is the heart of God. Grow love....and love grows communities. If we aren't finding that with bible study, phew.

Everything I have said above is true of our Monday night bible study. Other's love for the Word of God has made me love them more. And the Word of God is living...its a person, Jesus is the Word, right? Its one of the most unique expressions I have seen of love and community- a somewhat random misfit group of us young people started coming to Braden & Joel's bible study. We weren't really close friends. But what we tasted from the begining, we wouldn't let go of, and we became a sort of community, building relationship on the basis of the word truly transforming us and our daily lives. Now, a year later, we are not 6, but 20-something. :/

So, you can see how this revelation of God's heart for a family has become real to me at the perfect moment. ;)

I have four different blogs in my head, and I'm considering just writing them all out right now. Too many thoughts and ideas and revelations... not a bad problem to have.

First one that that came (I'm going to save the most exciting two for the end, so read through) was while I was washing dishes at sbux friday morning. I was looking forward to seeing my friend Meghan, just back from summer vacation at home in Cali, and my friend Aime, just back from her honeymoon in Mexico. I then started thinking about the chance of my sister Kim coming home for Christmas. I began to laugh as I looked at these 3 very close, very different friends. My range of close friends runs somewhere from 17 to 30ish...scratch that, 40's. I absolutely love spending time with a particular 4, 6, and 8 year-olds. When dancing with a 4-year-old is one of your favorite ways to spend a Friday night, and you'd prefer to spend Tuesday night with a good friend watching her daughter score in her highschool soccer match, you have to wonder a bit...how did I get like this?

Please don't take this as bragging...its merely me examining two things: What has caused me to be the way I am? And why was I created to be this way?

These two questions are closely connected to the process the Lord has had me in of growing confidence in His intention to fulfill my dreams.

The answer to why I have such a broad range of close friends I'm pretty sure has to do with my sisters. My sisters are 4 and 9 years older then me, and have been my best friends for a great many years. I wasn't always close with Kim. I have certain memories where Kim was the ideal amazing "older" sister, once when I was crying and very upset she sat and talked with me on the floor in my parents room, and I still remember her promising to take me for a ride in her "rabbit" some day (my favorite car at the time, because it was hers). I also remember her playing some hide and seek game with her earings in her room. I still clearly remember her teaching me how to make a bed properly, how to square the sheets in the corners. All these were before I was 5 years old, and I remember them. Once we moved to our new house (my kindergarten year), life took a lot of turns and I wasn't close with her until I reached high school.

Once again, life took more unexpected turns and I found myself spending more and more time with Kim, becoming best friends as we spend saturdays reading on her couch with a fire burning silently, or catching up on a season of some TV show... or eating her delicious baking projects... anything really. Maybe going to see some film together at the theatre, or playing basketball as she coached me and a bunch of my friends. Nine years came to mean very little, even while they meant a lot. She was older, wiser, and she was my ever-near friend, not judging or demeaning.

Our middle sister, Kristin, has always been my friend...my partner in crime, as well as interpretive dance. ;) She's the one who laughs at me no matter what I do, and pulls out the goofiest side that most of you don't even know exists....that will start conversations with strangers, maybe even bark at them, lay on the mall floor at christmas time, causing people to step over us, offer the woman at the macy's counter my library card as I snoutily inform her "charge it." She's 4 years older, but has never (okay, rarely!) made me feel like the obnoxious little sister. When she was a Junior and I just a seventh grader, she brought me along nearly everywhere. The older siblings I've seen do this genuinely I can count on one hand.

For this reason, when I was a Senior in high school, it seemed not so strange to bring the seventh graders along with me...not as a project, but as a friend. And I am so grateful today that this was put into me, because some of those "seventh graders" are the most incredible young women I know, and my good friends who I love to talk about life with. In Masters Commission and the years following, a girl 6 years or so older then me because my closest and dearest friend, walking through fire after fire together.

This was my final thought, I am so grateful that my parents had us girls 4 years apart, and even more grateful that they raised us to treasure one another as friends.

As for the why I am this way, I'm getting revelation...but I'll leave that to you to determine. :)

The revelation I had today that amazed me was this: our gifts really are for each other. During worship this morning I watched as Barco hopped off the stage to go dance, and Tong Pineda just as swiftly jumped up to the mike and began to sing in his place. I was stunned by how lovely this expression of praise and giftings was, and how the greater the complexity, due to the more people involved, the even more wondrous and lovely. See, I'd watched Tong clear more room for the dancers a few moments before, and considered also how his wife was involved in the training of the dancers...and the other dancers involved and their giftings, and the band. Its lovely, and complex, and so simple and pure at the same time. I hope some of this is making sense, sometimes a revelation is hard to really pass to another through words.

I've long considered my primary gifting to be "for others" as in, it's my heart to see the people around me become who they truly are, deeply, fully, freely. My calling is to call them into their callings. I want to do this through my words (spoken and written), my actions, my literal gifts to them, my glances, my hugs, even my clothing. We read recently in 1 Peter where it spoke about our giftings being for one another... and today I got it. It's not just my gifting that's for others, ALL of our giftings are for others, for one another.

And this led me to realize, "THIS is why God wanted a family." You see, it's beautiful to see a person functioning in their gifting, to watch Jordyn Cline dance is stunning. But to watch a group of people with different giftings, all interact is breathtaking. It's like listening to a piano, than an orchestra. (This comparison in worship this morning made me decide I AM going to listen to a live performance of an orchestra this year). The larger the community, the more beautiful and complex and overwhelmingly beautiful the expression is.

My final exciting remark is this, the Lord gave me a promise in worship today...
"I will write many stories through you, some with your pen, some with your words, and the greatest with your blood."

I gained one other noteworthy revelation today (also in worship...it was a very remarkable morning):
Adventure will find me.

One more thing about fall, it's the season where we reflect. Authors sit and pen, creativity stirring in their spirits like the wind in the autumn leaves. I've included a poem a friend passed along to me that I thought you all might enjoy. Let me know what you think, it's certainly sincere and strong.

My Love Waits

My love waits.
It waits for a time that is always coming, a time never here.
It waits for a heart that might not exist, this I fear.
For what evidence, what proof have I of love?
Only stories told by friends of hearts, roses, doves.
Is it for this my love waits?

My heart is locked up, but I don’t have the key
That could open it up, a liberation I long to feel and see.
How can such fire, such passion be kept inside?
My body feels the ache, the soul longs to confide.
But still, my love waits.

Beauty glides past, but oh such waste;
For of its sweetness I shall never feel, touch, taste.
A blessing to many, a song in the hearts of some,
Yet for me it is a faint, barely discernible hum.
In spite of all this, my love waits.

But feelings aside, longings stripped bare
The day I find her, the day I know she’s there.
I can say all I am is for her, none have taken love from me.
I have kept it safe, kept it secure, kept it free.
For the one, for her, my love waits.

The First Official Day of Fall

It is 90 degrees today in Seattle. Not what most think of when they hear fall, but September is truly one of the most beautiful months in Seattle, and definitely my favorite.

To follow-up my fall blog(s), I'd like to add a couple more reasons to love fall.

Last week I strolled downtown kirkland with one of my good friends, Theresa, and when the rain shower suddenly hit we ran to the car and headed to her house. There we lit a fire, cuddled up with blankets, and picked out an old film (Guys and Dolls). It was the perfect fall girls night.

This morning, I met Rose for coffee in downtown and we sipped cappuccinos and chatted about life, family and goals. September mornings, delightful.

Tonight, I get to spend with my dearest friend, Toni (aka, Rosemary). I'm planning to make her dinner, something special. We'll spend time just catching up and sharing our hearts and thoughts and recognizing all the changes that have happened in one another over the past year.

Perhaps I'll invite a few others over for a bonfire like last Tuesday night. After all, it is only the most beautiful month of the year in Seattle ;)

One thing I DO NOT like about fall: massive spiders moving indoors! :0

And one thing I will like about fall even more some day and look forward to... cuddling and reading with a special someone, cuddling and watching old movies with that special someone, cuddling and talking,... you get the idea. Fall is the best, especially for us cuddly-folk. :)

Dreams.

My Masters Commission year we were so incredibly blessed to have Lou Engle come speak with us (and to meet up with him and his group at a Life Seige in Washington DC). His message took root in the heart of my class, and I've heard many classes since have been lucky to listen to it as well.

He encouraged us,

"Don't live your life for a safe story, live it for a good one... It is easier to go die facing giants than to live in the wilderness. Either you are willing to die for the dream that is in your heart or you will live a safe life."


"Pay close attention to your tears, for your tears point you to your destiny."


"Walk through the land of your dreams." (The quote above my bed, written of course on a picture of a door.)

The last few days I have been wanting to write down my dreams and passions more. I think it is what God is doing in me through Sunday's messages, Dreaming With God (the book by Bill Johnson I am reading), as well as life's circumstances and the previous cries of my heart. I'm discovering a new trust in the Lord that tells me that He wants to accomplish the dreams in me, He wants to work with me and through me...through my dreaming.

Sunday, Pastor Norm told us we need to lift our expectation. He spoke on significance. God's people all throughout history have struggled with a sense of a lack of significance, yet it has always been the heart of God to make them of multiplies significance. Think of Moses. Consider the spies Isreal sent into their promised land. Even for my own life, and my own promised land(s), I want to give the report of Caleb and Joshua... young men who found themselves and their peope to be significant, because they were the people of God!

My dreams may seem out of reach, but the Lord will accomplish His will, and I'm learning that His will is very closely tied to His people, and He desires to co-rule with us (right?). Well, one way He does this is to give us dreams as we seek Him...and then work through us and with us to accomplish them!

With all this new revelation mixing around in my spirit and my heart, and as I write right now, my mind, I can't help but desire to write out my dreams...set down my passions and crazy ideas, mark out what makes me come alive, what makes my spirit cry out, my passions unleash, my fury arise, and my tears fall.

Doesn't it sound like the Lord, that in a time when the vast majority feel more helpless and out of control of their lives, finances, the economy and government God would begin instilling a sense of significance and confidence in His people. A spirit that cries out from within, "Surely we can do this." If God is for us, who can be against us?

I've been wanting to read the Psalms like I haven't in years. And now, I'm wanting to be like David. I want to be honest, and I want to cry out from the heights and the depths to my God. I want to trust Him, though armies surround me (literally!). I want to not take for myself a crown, even if its been promised to me... but wait on the Lord to fulfill His promises to me.

Just a little spilling out onto all of you of whats bubbling up inside. Love you all, I am off to the porch swing to drink my coffee and read for a while...probably some Psalms :)

I drove home last night with this strange desire to write a poem, so I made sure I brought in my journal. I was so tired though and knew I'd be up shortly so I sent myself to bed. Only, I couldn't sleep. My heart was too awake to really sleep. Now, part of this was likely due to the energy drink I consumed around 9:30 last night,...but part of it I think was just an awakening heart. Because after a restless night, I opened my eyes at 6am (a good 40 minutes before my alarm) and was longing after the God who's pouring out this rain... and now even more, I want to write a poem. I think I may be about to meet that Poet I heard of a few weeks ago. In other words, I think the Lord woke me up to reveal yet another side of Himself to me.

He's awakening a seeker's heart in me. He began putting this passion in me to seek out mysteries (in scripture, in prayer, in listening to him, in observing people and the creation around us), and He's been feeding that passion steadily by letting me find so many of the things I've sought, the most importantly, Him. I'm finding Him over and over, and it's always a new mystery discovered. He's a good God. He cares for me. He's a poet. He wants me to be part of the planning and unfolding of my life, and He hopes (intends) for the desires and dreams of my heart to lead me into co-ruling with Him, deciding things together. :0

PS, I love listening to this rain!

I slept in, had coffee on the porch swing with my dad, went for a walk with him, and now am going to do some work real quick and then go play with Tyson and Elsa. Today is a beautiful day. I'm learning to see new qualities of who the Lord is... I'm seeking out who He says He is.

He told me a couple weeks ago, He's a poet. I didn't quite see it then, but I'm beginning to. I've lived a long time expecting to surrender the things I love, seeing that as "trust." When a decision arose, it seemed that the harder one was probably the better one....but I'm starting to learn that isn't always true. Trusting the Lord means knowing Him, knowing His character in light of who He says He is. The Lord created a world that begins and ends each day with the most colorful, creative exhibits of beauty, sunrises and sunsets. He set stars in the sky, should we awake in the night and forget of His love for mystery and beauty and wonder. He made sound... whispers and yells, deep, strong, sweet, tender, alluring and alarming sounds. He says he's the God of wonders. In His word, He chose to center it with poetry and love songs. :/

He's not who I thought.. He's more. I like Him. hahaa.

Mid-September.

This means the season of beloved birthdays is approaching. Courtney, Aime & Ashley's just passed. Todd, Ryan, Bryan among others are right around the corner. Those are followed by all the holdidays, and then my sister kris and my own's birthdays. Oh the many joys and reasons to celebrate the fall.

Braden called the fall a girl's season last night, something about his lack of enthusiasm for scarves and sweaters I think. I disagree, mainly since its my dad who passed his love of fall on to me, with long autumn strolls, crunching the crisp brown leaves on the trail, hot drinks keeping our own frosty fingers warm. The smell of the air, watching our breath as we talk about life, and soccer.

Fall means time to buy new pens (and other school supplies), reorganize your desk, throw out old clothes and neatly put away new ones. Fall is when families start to hunker in earlier, light fires, and drink hot chocolate. Fall is soup season!

Fall is when you get the warm thunderstorms! Rain falls on your car roof, and you decide to just sit in your driveway for a spell and listen. Fall is when you start new classes, and you are still eager enough to get all your homework done early.

I haven't even mentioned the truly "girly" parts of fall, as far as the beautiful autumn tones of clothes that come out, and the abundance of layers you get to splash together (or I splash together...I pity those of you who are limited by the little thing called "matching").

And when you add to all this, the tons of get-togethers, birthdays, and other opportunities to tell people how important they are in your life, and how dear they are to your heart...how could you not love this blessed season, known by the assonance-obssessed, as autumn?

You know what I think happens when you see the face of the Lion? When you see the face of the Lion, overwhelming terror renders you motionless, and vulnerable, and the LOVE of the lamb reaches around you and clothes your naked frame. You can't run, hide, or move. Every thing is shaken off of you, every fear is inferior to His glorious face, every lie is uncovered, every pain is raw and every wound opened. Things you've covered for years are shown- the hurt no longer hidden. And the Lion looks on you. And the Lamb moves from where He lays, beside the Lion. He comes to you, He gives of Himself to cover your nakedness. And the Lion roars. And nothing is ever the same.

Baking With Todd & Kati

Well, Todd (aka, "My twin") and I share quite an affection for all things baked. And since a few months back when we both discovered I can make some killer cupcakes, we've been talking about trying our hand at some red velvet cupcakes. For those of you who have never had red velvet, please stop reading, get up and locate the nearest cupcake shop. They will help you. I first had it a few summers ago in Tennessee, and I fell in love. One of Kim's coworkers makes some pretty darn good red velvet cake. When red velvet cupcakes showed up in Starbucks last February, it was trouble. I think I averaged one a day...they were really good. Then, our addiction got worse. We started frequenting cupcake shops and testing their red velvet (remember this Kaylee? lol).

Last night we decided to try. We located a recipe on "All Recipes" that looked doable for us and had a 4.5 rating (out of 5). It had a couple surprise ingredients... like white distilled vinegar. A suggestion below the recipe claimed that if we made a couple substitutes they'd be deliciously moist and less bland. We did, of course. To top them off I made the cream cheese frosting recipe my sister Kim passed along to me. Waiting for them to cool enough to frost felt like forever....but once we tasted them... we couldn't quite contain our excitement- they were good!! We had actually done it!!

We proceeded to worship as we ate our little bites of heaven...and then take many more pictures of us celebrating (of course).


We then went downstairs and watched as mom, dad and Kris bit into theirs. They liked them too, though their "ohhing and awwing and yumming" were more sarcastic I think then sincere....unlike Todd's and mine.

I love these photos, especially the bottom one. Another great find at Creature Comforts (thank you AGAIN Kim for uncovering its joys to me).



Tonight we are heading downtown to feed the hungry and then over to Alki for one last summer bonfire. September is here, my favorite month of them all :)

Above is a (not so good) picture of the coat.

Funny story: yesterday, roughly 3 hours after blogging, I walked past an elderly man at Northgate Mall, or rather he walked past me. He had a cane and as I stepped aside for him to pass we both said hello. Then he said, "That is a very nice coat." And I said "Thank you, I love it." Then he proceeded to comment over what an excellent coat it was, and I told him, "Yes, its my favorite" as I stepped into Barnes & Noble with the hint of a laugh. :)

It's shameful. I know. But I'm blogging right now aren't I?

I was driving out on a back country road yesterday, at my favorite time of day. And as I glanced over at the side mirror I felt like raw beauty shone into me. I love driving away from the sun at dusk, looking into your mirror and seeing a golden sky illuminated behind dark rich trees. The world looks enchanted. The trouble is, I'd like to stare into that world, rather then watch the one I'm driving toward at 35 miles an hour. No, thta wasn't meant to be allegorical, but take it as you like (it).

That was my profound little moment yesterday.

This morning has been great already. I got to wake up at 5:30, which is my favorite time to wake up on a week day morning. It's the moment I feel the perfect balance between rested and disciplined. I discovered in MCs that 5:30 is my ideal alarm time...but with opening at starbucks over half the week, I rarely touch my bare feet to the floor at that hour.

After showering, another thing I don't often do first thing in the morning (don't judge me...its stupid to shower before working at sbux, and its nearly suicidal for me to crawl into a shower at 3:30am!), I put on my new carmel leather jacket.... my current favorite clothing item and one I wear unashamedly WAY to much as of late. The problem is, it goes with pretty much every single thing I own. Plus, it makes me feel inspired for autumn. Everyone should own a cool leather jacket, it will make you feel like an artist of some kind. ;) (THUS the blog; see you should thank the jacket next time you see it, and trust me, you WILL see it soon and often.)

I then got to drive Abby to the church, which was fun having a carpool buddy, and we listened to Buble (a fall favorite for me!). Next, I met Rose for an early morning cappuccino before work. She's pretty much one of the coolest women I know. Plus, what better way to begin your morning then dreaming about all the amazing European cities you'd like to visit, the professions you'd love to carry out, and catching up on life over a cap....let me answer my own question: not many.


Now, having caught up on emails and plotted out my day, I am sitting here in my caramel jacket, finally blogging and looking forward to the rest of today's fun activities.

Love you all, have a great day. And if you are considering buying a certain leather jacket, do it. ;)

The word of the day: Trust.

Discovering what that means, and learning to silence my thoughts and listen to His voice. Because growing up seems to mean making decisions, and growing up with grace means following His steps and seeking wisdom in the decisions.

Another beautiful photo from Creature Comforts this one is by Andrew F.

I am reading through old posts from 2006 and I came across this story and had to re-post it, it made me laugh way too hard to remember this eventful Thanksgiving morning...

A funny story...

So last night I was being my OCD self and I was 'arguing' with Dad about this little basket that he keeps moving on the window seal. Every morning I wake up and go into the bathroom (mine and Kris' bathroom downstairs!) and the first thing I see is this brown basket, off centered, pushed awkwardly against the old glass coke bottle that hold a flower (a fresh one, not a fake one- thats important to me, lol). OKay, so keep in mind dad and I are in the bathroom at about 2:30am aruging back and forth about the placement of this small basket. Actually, we aren't quite arguing, I am actually begging him to let me atleast angle the basket the other way of he wont let me move it back to where it belongs on the other side of the window seal. He, eventually willing to TELL ME WHY it must be in that ridiculous, off-centered position, tells me to open the window- thus knocking over the basket, which falls and knocks over the glass candle holder on the floor and making quite a commotion. I pick it all up- part laughing at this whole event, but still truly frusterated (dad's favorite word, hehe). Suddenly, in the midst of me putting things back, and re-angling the basket Dad starts laughing and points at the toilet and says, "Look what you did!" "You dropped your shoes in the toilet!"

Well....I had been picking up the bathroom and cleaning (yes, don't all normal people clean their bathroom at 2:30 in the morning?) And I had grabbed Kris' tennis shoes off the floor to put in her room, when dad came in and pushed the basket in against the coke bottle. I still don't know when, or how, but somehow I dropped KRIS's shoes in the toilet in the midst of our "argument" (and by the term 'argument' I mean a persuasive discussion incorporating all the available means of persuasion). As Dad is laughing, I thrust my hand into the toilet (okay- admit it, you are all wondering about the manner of the toilet at this moment...it is flushed, and it had just been cleaned hours before) and grab out Kris's tennis shoes, explaning to dad (in a very panicked, loud tone) "They aren't mine- They are Kris's!" "Crap! Crap!" Dad begins lauging harder than I have heard him laugh in a while, knowing full well that his middle daughter is about to kill me! I began panicking, wondering what to do with them.

Dad said, "throw them in the bath tub. She'll think they got wet in there." But she'd still get mad at me- how did they get in the bath tub?! I went and 'rung' them out in the laundry room and set them on the floor. By now, Dad's filled mom in on the story and she is laughing with dad as I worry about where I can put the shoes to dry. katherine's on the stairs, "what happened?" I said- "Go to your room!" Mom and dad both still laughing, even harder. I set them on the floor in the back corner of the laundry room, hoping she wouldn't see them....and then this morning, I could help but tell her the whole funny story. She laughed, until she found out WHICH shoes. :(


Happy Thanksgiving!

This morning I saw a flower. Tiny, and quickly tramped, but I saw it. It was there and that is what matters. It lived, it grew and it called forward to something greater. I know each man and woman in this town, but I dare not address them. They take little notice of me. I know their children, and we play and laugh together. I am more like the little ones.

It was when the children’s parents called them to come along and hurry home with them, “stay close by my side,” they chided them. As I said, it was then that I first discovered my treasure. I’d seen the way the older ones looked at me that afternoon as they told their children to come close, grabbing their hands. My nose had started to sting, my eyes would have rained were we not all in this drought. The land is dry; the people’s hearts are dry too. Our cattle has grown thin and most have perished, providing dinner for one more night. I wanted to get away from their eyes, the mix of judgment and pity and their own shame all projected onto me like an old silent film. I should have starved by now, I should just die rather then live to remind the few who remember my birth: the expectations, the joy, the dreams of their ignorant youth. It was easier to ignore me, and they tried to make their children forget me too.

I ran until I collapsed in a dead sea of dried up wheat, pale gold for miles. I’d spent all I had inside in this last attempt to escape the dry and painful world. Grabbing dried blades that scratched and cut at my hands, I rolled onto my back and cried out. No words, just a groan that came from empty canyons. The sun was hot, and as I stared at the blood and burnt wheat in my hands, they turned to grays and whites and then all went black. When I awoke it was dark, quiet, and cool. It seemed a different land. I found my hands, and then my knees. As I stared at the ground in front of me, ready to rock back onto my feet I thought I saw myself. Not as I supposed I now looked, but as I once had, or someday could. My hair was dark and long, light and floating on a breeze. My eyes glowed soft. My face was full and though dark from the sun, it was lovely.

I leaned closer and closer, until suddenly I felt I’d tumble over. I was down there, I was deep. I decided to find something to reach down there with, to see if the me in the well might grab it and climb out, or if perhaps this apparition may be something better then it appeared. Water. There were no trees nearby, so I settled on a long, thick blade of wheat, baked hard by the sun. I retraced my steps in the dark and when I figured I was close I returned to my knees and crawled. Reaching its edge, I laid flat on my belly and reached my arm down deep, until I heard something quietly meet: my secret expectations and the real hidden source of life- water. I’d found a well, no doubt an ancient one. I laughed, and then laughed again at the sound of my own long-forgotten laugh. I stared into a sky that seemed less like an empty pale and more like an endless ocean for the first time. I was thankful for it, for the night, for the stars, for the old well I’d found. I started to wonder if it were okay to drink, could I drink it now? Was it bitter like the water we get to spoon from the old pipe for a pound? Who was the man who’d worked to dig it? What was his wife like? I rolled over and stared into the well at the dark lovely woman inside. She was me, and somehow I felt I became her. The silly thoughts of a child you’d think, except for what follows.

The dawn had soon begun to break and I did my best to conceal the treasure, determined to return when I’d decided what I was to do with this well. The following day brought many dreams, more than any night I’d shared with the stars. The following night I returned to the same spot and lay on my face at the well. I’d brought an old red pale, and when I felt I’d looked at the lady long enough, I tied a rope to the handle and slowly dropped it down. I heard the sweet splash of my desires into the depths of reality, louder then the night before and my heart felt stronger then any moment I could remember. I felt the rope grow heavy and I pulled hard. As I brought it to the surface of the ground, I grasped its handle and felt the heaviness of having your dreams in your hand.

Inside, was more then crimson water. A glass bottle floated at the top, attached was a small weight, an anchor of sorts that read “hope” across it. My eyes widened, and I felt it was mine to open the bottle. Inside was a note; it read simply:
Hope rarely comes in the rain, most often it’s quiet, spreading through the soil until it manifests in one beautiful flower, and then another, and another, until the garden itself calls down the heavens.

The penmanship was lovely. But I’d hoped for something more, clearer, perhaps a signature or a date, or a “this water is safe.” But nothing told me the water was safe. On the contrary, something about it seemed entirely wild, even while it was peaceful and quiet. It seemed patient, yet alive with desire to get out. “Release me” it whispered in the dark night. As if I was nothing but the water’s vessel, I tipped the heavy bucket over and felt its cool and wild hands race across my feet. I watched closely as it spread out across the ground my feet touched. You’d think that starving soil would greedily drink the waters down, but instead, hard and dry it resisted. But the water would not be denied its purpose, and it waited patiently for the soil to open up. After several minutes it had all worked its way down. I wondered still more about the nature of the well. I decided to be patient as the water had, and watch to see the water’s affect on the soil.

The next morning I wandered by, unobserved to steal a glance at the water in the daylight. After a quick glance around, I dropped to my stomach and crawled closer, uncovering the well. Looking down, I saw a dark glimmer deep below. I did not see the well’s lady. Deep inside me, I heard a call to her and resisted the urge to release it out loud, even just in a whisper.

As I sat back on my knees, and dusted off my hands, I looked around the spot and recognized it was the same place I’d dumped the bucket the night before. Reaching for the rope, I pulled up another heavy bucket, straining more in the intense heat than I had the night before. As I pulled it over the edge I stared into the bucket, lost in the ripples crashing back and forth. Most often it’s quiet, spreading through the soil, the words I’d read last night splashed back and forth in my mind. I tipped the bucket over again. This time, I didn’t wait to see it soak in. I lowered the bucket back silently, concealed my treasure and crawled until I felt it a safe distance to stand and journey away.

And so my nights continued, traveling to the well and pouring out its wild and peaceful waters across the field. ‘Till one morning I walked toward my well, and as I stared carefully down at the ground, hoping to catch a glance down at the deep waters, I saw something yellow. It was like fire, or the sun, a butterfly. I dropped to my knees in this place, as I had dozens of times before. My breath heavy and my movements clumsy, I reached out to touch its gentle petals. The stem was long and lovely, a picture of beauty we’d long been starved of. Something had grown in this desert. That night I returned, and I drew more then one bucket of water, I drew them over and over, spilling them out across the field until I felt I couldn’t pull the weight of the waters up again. “One last time, and this one will be for a different desert” I concluded. Pulling its heavy red host from the well’s edge, I braced it with both arms and rested it on the ground in front of me. I sat there, a cross-legged quiet warrior. The one who’d waited patient as these waters. The one who’d moved in the darkness of night, not seen by those who should love and embrace me. I sat there, the promise of change in my arms. I offered both my hands to the wild creature in the bucket, and it rushed into my palms to thank me. Filled to the top, I pulled it out and splashed it across my face. A deep gasp, and then a laugh. Next, I reached deep and filled the cup of my hands, raising it to my lips. As the water trickled down my throat, I thought of that hard soil that had resisted to no avail. I felt its coldness run all the way down into the deepest parts of my stomach and heart. I felt awake, alive. I drank again, and again. I couldn’t escape the feeling that my desert was turning into a garden, and I was growing.

We have not yet seen the rain, but the flowers are growing. Some speculate that its magic. Others say science. Logically, it had to come eventually, the soil just needed time to reconstruct and heal itself. Whatever the reason they try to give it, they can’t fully believe it themselves.

This morning I woke, tired from another night’s unseen work. The people are beginning to see the beauty spreading, flowers across the fields. I see a rain cloud growing just above them. I am little, but I am growing too and they may not recognize me. I am the lady in the well, deep calling unto deep. I am the one who waters in the desert, who works in the night, who calls the flowers and waits like the waters, wild and peaceful.

I am Hope.

It's actually happened, a friend had to ask me "What's up with you and NOT blogging?"

So, with that loving prompt, I'm back. I didn't get to blog in Tennessee about some things I'd wanted, and had committed to writing on those topics before moving on....and thus I remained. So here it is, I'll have to catch up on those topics when I find the opportunity, but for now I am incredibly busy this week and will leave you with this photo Kim sent me from the blog Creature Comfort Blog. She said it reminded her of me, and I'm certainly happy it did....I love this. I think we are all curious to find how others perceive us, and our sense of beauty. I love it when people send me things that reminded them of me, or they thought I'd like, especially when its something I really do love. Lately Samara has sent me couple things that I absolutely loved, and I loved that they made her think of me. Thanks Samara :)

And thanks for this photo Kimberly, its lovely.

Feet, and a unique capturing of something vintage and classically pretty...definitely something I'd find beautiful. I love the light in the photo, and its combination of simplicity and detail. I think if I could do anything, it would include traveling, photography, clothes, and writing. :) Okay, and a million other things. I love to capture beauty from different perspectives, both through writing and photography (I miss my camera...).

Isn't there supposed to be a new feature on the cckirkland website, where I can watch the sermon live? I went there and can't find today's sermon by either video streaming or podcast yet.. :(

Help?

Life is full of decisions.

I suppose this is a blessing. I know it is. God chose to give us a free will. He chose to let us make decisions. And at times, He lays two options before us and says, I'll bless either one, now you choose. I don't know why these moments are so hard for me, why it is so difficult for me to look at my own heart and search for which direction I want to take. But it is.

I don't know if I have ever felt like I've had more decisions to make. Like life is truly FULL of decisions. I suppose these questions are always there, but its easy to begin living life on autopilot, continuing in what you've been doing. Comfortable. I don't want to be comfortable in life, or life by default. But decisions are so stink'n hard. And I don't want to miss the Lord in my life, moreover, I don't want to miss the BEST.

In the midst of this season, it's been such a blessing to come to Tennessee for a spell. I've slept more this week already then the past month I think. And after sleeping for long hours, I wake up and still have time to spend hours with the Lord.

He has always been faithful, faithful to lead me. And I'm resting in that...keeping my eyes on His face, and not on the waves.

I've noticed in the midst of these decisions, He's been bringing me back to the bigger picture. The prophetic words spoken over my life have suddenly taken on greater weight, and the passions that break me open are constantly before me. Conversations have been coming up every day reminding me of the life I want to live, a life of sacrifice and passion, that takes risks and has costs, and pays highly. Its coming back to the basics, love that fits the bill.

Best Purchase in a while: United Pursuit Band's album, EP

Buy it!

Summer.

I celebrated summer break on Saturday by sleeping in. It was unbelievable. I dedicated the whole day to rest and forced myself not to think much of my coming to-do list. Katherine and Kolleen and I went grocery shopping, took my car to be cleaned, we vacuumed it and went to Alderwood Mall to get my laptop fixed.

Then it was off to the Sounders Game! I had an absolute blast with three of my best friends downtown. We wandered looking for food and came across the Sounders Marching Band and "March to Qwest" that we had known nothing about. Quite a way to put you in the mood for a good match! We found gelato--- amazing gelato! And ended up being food in the stadium. The first half especially was so exciting, and we won 2-1!

Sunday, work (with Morgan, which made it pretty enjoyable) and much more excitement to be expounded on later.


Monday, I worked from home and spent a remarkable number of hours in or on my bed. :0

Tuesday I went into work early (got coffee with Abby on the way) and got what I needed to done, had lunch with Rosie and Abby and then with Morgan (lol). Came home, and ended up taking a three hour nap! (Wasn't expecting that). Then woke up just in time to run to Jeff and Elise's. Last night was our first session of Financial Peace University. As well, I think it was our first time hanging out as "the neighborhood" with out new addition of Aime. :) Elise made delicious homemade pizzas before and we got to catch up some and talk about the exciting wedding plans.

Before everyone else got there, Elise pulled me around to her desk and pulled out two tickets---- I looked at them and the hugest smile snuck out, "how'd you get them?" She said, "I bought two more for another night." That is right, Elise and I are going to see Wicked in October!!!!! If you didn't know, I have wanted to see this broadway show for close to 4 years! Awww, I am very excited for our date night! Thank you Elise!!!

Then on to FPU, I am so excited about this class. One session in and I surprising don't feel depressed, but really hopeful. I am so grateful that I am going to get practical financial tools at such a young age. He shows how small things in our twenties can really make an impressive impact on our future.

I have just officially begun my summer break. I have almost exactly one hour 'til I need to be ready to leave for homegroup and I'm not sure what to do with it. Not enough time to nap and get ready (and you know a nap is definitely my first choice!). My room is clean. My bathroom is clean. My car- Aw! That may be it. Lame celebration though :/

I already made my to-do list for the next two weeks, perhaps I will get started on that.

Yeah for summer- once I get caught up on a bit of sleep I will be busting out the books! YEAH!

Septmeber 8th!

Here is what Barnes & Noble has to say:

Synopsis
#1 bestselling author Nicholas Sparks's new novel is at once a compelling family drama and a heartrending tale of young love.

Seventeen year old Veronica "Ronnie" Miller's life was turned upside-down when her parents divorced and her father moved from New York City to Wilmington, North Carolina. Three years later, she remains angry and alientated from her parents, especially her father...until her mother decides it would be in everyone's best interest if she spent the summer in Wilmington with him. Ronnie's father, a former concert pianist and teacher, is living a quiet life in the beach town, immersed in creating a work of art that will become the centerpiece of a local church.

The tale that unfolds is an unforgettable story of love on many levels--first love, love between parents and children -- that demonstrates, as only a Nicholas Sparks novel can, the many ways that love can break our hearts...and heal them.

Biography
Sparks is a sort of national sweetheart -- a good-looking family man who writes heart-tugging novels that rarely fail to elicit tears or book sales. His wildly popular The Notebook kicked off a steady string of quietly triumphant love stories.

Just a quick vent.

Why hasn't Nicholas Sparks made any mention of a new book yet!? Huh? I know how it goes. I know he will begin making talk of it right about now and I will spend much of my summer wanting desperately to get my hands on it. At the end of the summer he will even pre-release the first chapter and I will excitedly eat it up. Then, I will return to classes and right as I start to get overloaded with homework and reading assignments, the book will be released. I will make time THAT day to drive to Barnes & Noble and appreciate the displays of it that line the front entrance. I will grab my own beautiful hard bound copy and get in line to purchase it. I will carry it with pride out to my car, set the bag carefully on the back seat. Drive home, take it out, remove any price stickers with the utmost care. Then I will place it on the bottom shelf with all his others and wait for Thanksgiving to finally get to read it! Oh, there will be a number of cases during that time that I will pull it out, thumb through it, smell it, touch the pages, even re-read the back and study the front cover for hints. I'll ponder why he chose that picture. Where is the place on the cover? What is it a symbol of? But I will set it back on the shelf and force myself to wait.

As of now, no mention of another book.

I think there is nothing quite like a warm breeze on a sunny day :) Especially when that breeze carries the voice of David Gray. I'd like to just close my eyes and soak it all in for an hour....but I've got to stay focused and finish this report.

Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice...

I don't think so!

Random story:

Yesterday I am in the bathroom. (all great stories start this way).

I go over, and with my pinky roll out the sufficient amount of paper towel from the dispenser. All the while there is a girl to my right who is washing her hands. I then turn on the faucet (I'm standing right between the said girl washing her hands, and the paper towel dispenser I've prepped-- one of like 8 in this bathroom). As I'm washing my hands and counting in my head-- The aforementioned girl turns off the faucet with her hands, and then GRABS the paper towel she must have seen me just prep.

She dries her hands, tosses the towel and leaves.

I was deeply bothered and had to choose right then not to be offended. That was the biggest decision I have had to make to not receive an offense in quite some time. Clearly, I'm still battling it some. WHY? She'd seen me do it. I wouldn't have minded if perhaps she'd used it to dispense MORE paper towel and leave some for me... And if she had already used her once clean hands to turn off the faucet that she already used her dirty hands to turn on--- why not use those now dirty hands to get her own paper towel to dry her wet, dirty hands? Or why even wash her hands, since by the point she tossed that paper towel and grasped that door handle to leave, they were already dirty again!?

"What is this ____ on my hands? Look! It's there again!"

Yep. Just something I've been pondering. At this point I'm not really bothered, just very entertained. One of those things that happen to you and you feel its so remarkable that you have to share it with someone. Someone knowingly stole my paper towel yesterday, right before my eyes.

Huh. Love. I know. :P

On Mother's Day, I returned home from my early morning test to find my mom wasn't home. :/ So, Dad and I took off to do some last minute errands. While my dad wandered Best Buy...I drove down the lot to one of my favorite stores, Barnes and Noble!

Melissa had told me about a book called "He Loves Me" and I was anxious to get my hands on it. So I wandered in and found the Christian section (which has been moved a few rows to the right). The trouble was, I didn't know who the author was. And I wasn't even sure I had the title right. But as I scanned through the shelves, picking up each one that had either a catching title or a great cover, I found a little treasure.

The spine of the book said "Crazy Love." It was a simple red, a deep autumn red leaf, and the words were simple. The cover of the book had two hand drawn arrows, one up, one down. Thats it. The right bottom corner says "Overwhelmed by a relentless God." Only just now am I realizing that I've been asking God to "overwhelm" me! (Oh MY WORD!). But immediately I knew this could be the book I've been thirsty for. I read the back, and bought it! I cannot WAIT to start this book! Its been a long time since I wanted to skip sleep and just read....but last night I had to convince myself to leave the book on the night stand. This morning I excitedly read the prologue.

I'll keep you all updated, but I am so excited, I couldn't wait to tell you all about it. My expectations are high, and I really believe this is a little treasure my relentless and adventurous God left for me to discover in B&N shelves. :)

(I also found "He Loves Me" and I am incredibly excited to read that too--- I decided to wait on it till I can read it with a friend!)

Here is a review of Francis Chan's Crazy Love on Tim Challies's blog:

There are many voices critiquing the North American church today. The voices come from both within and without; from those who love the church and those who hate it. We all know that there is something wrong. But what? In many cases the prescription is the same while the cure varies widely. In his new book Crazy Love, first-time author Francis Chan, pastor of Cornerstone Church in Simi Valley, California, regular speaker at Passion conferences and other events, and the guy who recorded that “Just Stop and Think” evangelistic video where he walks for miles holding a surfboard, takes his opportunity to challenge the church. “This book,” he says, “is written for those who want more Jesus. It is for those who are bored with what American Christianity offers. It is for those who don’t want to plateau, who would rather die before their convictions do.” It is a book that is meant to change the way Christians live their lives.

There are two ways of critiquing the church. We can critique out of love or out of disgust. Chan is committed to critiquing the church as an act of love. In a recent interview, when asked about the emergent church, he said this: “As a pastor I hear a lot of emergent leaders talk about what is wrong with the church. It comes across as someone who doesn’t love the church. I’m a pastor first and foremost, and I’m trying to offer a solution or a model of what church should look like. I’m going back to scripture and seeing what the church was in its simplest form and trying to recreate that in my own church. I’m not coming up with anything new. I’m calling people to go back to the way it was. I’m not bashing the church. I’m loving it.” And his love for the church is obvious throughout this book.

The format of Crazy Love is straightforward and effective. Chan dedicates three chapters to renewing our understanding of the character of God and seven chapters calling Christians to examine themselves. Within the book are two ongoing themes that are going to get people talking.

The first theme is that we must painstakingly examine ourselves. We cannot assume we are saved, or to use the biblical metaphor, we cannot assume that we are the good soil. Chan calls the reader to a serious self-inventory through a chapter that provides a profile of the lukewarm. He concludes, “a lukewarm Christian is an oxymoron; there’s no such thing. To put it plainly, churchgoers who are ‘lukewarm’ are not Christians. We will not see them in heaven.” God wants all or nothing.

The second theme is deeply counter-cultural, going against the stream of both Christian and secular culture. It is this: live your best life later. Chan wants to see Christians living differently—living in a way that is markedly different from those around them. He wants to see Christians forgoing much of what we consider necessary, what we consider our due, in order to focus on treasures that are eternal. He wants us to get outside the realm of what is comfortable to us and focus instead on radical obedience. “God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.”

These two themes and a focus on the Scriptures serve to create a powerful and deeply challenging book. There is a very obvious commitment here to teach Scriptural principles from the Scriptures and to invite the reader to verify what he is writing from those same Scriptures. Not surprisingly, the book’s weakest chapter is the one that depends least on the Bible. It is a chapter providing examples of men and women who have made radical choices to live radically different. At least a couple of examples are of people who are probably not the best examples overall because as they’ve jettisoned their old lives, they’ve also jettisoned too much good theology.

That small critique aside, I found that this is a paradigm-shaking book with a message that Christians desperately need to hear. Too many of us are living too safely and too easily. But for the brief moments we spend at church each week, we are practically indistinguishable from the unbelievers around us. This is not the way it is meant to be. The church could use a loving exhortation and Chan delivers well.

Yep, time to blog again.

It's a rainy evening and I'm drinking a hot beverage and studying- how could I resist blogging? Then again, I am short for words this evening. Many emotions, many thoughts, few audible words.

You know those times you feel like so much is going on inside and some internal form must be changing, but you aren't able to see it or understand it just yet? Thats this evening. I think some attitudes are surfacing that need to be dealt with, but I can't fully put my finger on them yet, or what actions need to be taken. Do I just need to repent and ask God to change them? Maybe thats it right there. And beyond that, I feel like I need to press through something, into something new. But I can't fully comprehend it. I'm still a student, and I see no job change in the near future, but I think it's stepping into a new level in both of these things. A level of intentionality, or organization, or prioritization. :/

Something's going deeper. Something is changing and getting ready for a new step. Maybe it is Monroe. It would be silly for me to deny that praying about moving to the Monroe church is affecting me deeply. With this sort of a move, I know that my friendships can change, and many will. Some will not, some will pursue me just the same, or even deeper, but others will not and that will be okay too. I know that things will need to change, and I think my heart is busy disconnecting in some places and reconnecting in others....and this evening there is a bit of evaluation about whether or not I am allowing any coldness to creep in while these changes are happening. I don't want coldness in my heart.

Its funny, one of the guys called me a "hippy christian" at Bible Study monday night, light-heartedly. Something like "hippy christians like Kati who are all about love" and its true. I couldn't deny it, and I've been thinking about it the last couple days. And then today I felt like I fell really short of that love- and if I am going to be a hippy christian, I better at least learn how to love. My favorite verses are about love. I must dwell at least once a day (more like 15!) on the verse, "He who is forgiven much, loves much" and "If I speak with the tongues of angels and move mountains, but have not love I am nothing but a squeaking gate" and "This is pure and spotless religion, to care for the orphan and the widow." Those may not be exact translations, but they are deep, deep in my heart and I WANT TO BECOME LOVE.

Really, I am not led by emotions, but I want to be led by love. The Bible says, they'll know us by our love. THAT is our mark. AGH. Really, I could groan right now out of frustration- because I am just beginning to learn what this love feels like, this love that creeps into your bones, and gets into your blood and makes you want to cry suddenly because you so badly want those you love to KNOW the Father, to be overcome by His love and affection and truth and destiny! I want it more, I want it to be so deep in me and through me that it really does overwhelm those I come into contact with and they get saved because they feel Love and I can't deny it, and they can't deny it and it's undeniable LOVE. :)

So yeah, I like to be barefoot, and I really do think it comes down to this, Love. There are three things for us to do now until the completeness of God, Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly, and the greatest of the three is love.

I think I'm a hippy christian. :)