He's Waiting

Sometimes I wish that everyplace that I look, and at every task I am trying to complete came with a post it note that said, "take pause. here."

I don't want to miss Christmas. Especially now that I'm decorating my house, wanting to contribute to my community with Holiday Cheer (having house dinner Christmas WAY early was smart for this over tired and exhausted girl).

What I've been learning a lot about, and what I am thankful about is that, here. At the edge. Of exhaustion. Myself. The task. The day. The season. My heart. My mind. Is sometimes the only place I remember to lean back, to lean in, and to give up all my ambitions, desires, and intentions to- Jesus. I can decorate, exchange gifts, and "add" onto the Tree and Season with my offerings.

But the ONLY thing that matters does not require a bow, a cookie, a meal, or a tree.

Jesus asks for my heart. My time. My focus. My energy. My exhaustion. He waits. And waits. Knowing that the choices I will make that will pull me in directions that will not nourish me, and knowing what burdens I will carry before I give them up.

And he waits.

In a manger. Under a dark sky lit with one bright, holy divine star.

He waits for me. He waits for you.

He waits. And we spend so much time and energy focusing on every other tradition, detail, requirement, hope, and wish. That we forget the only one that gives us life, that brings true relationship, secures our eternities, and quenches every dream and wish- is waiting. For our time. For us.

I have 3 days. Two more working days before Christmas Day. I have learned so much this Holiday Season with the stresses, and the work load, and the 75 people I help manage and lead... that a moment, a breather, a conversation outside of the context of the task is encouraging and life giving when the to do list is endlessly long.

At the end of myself and this season I am thankful to be reminded of in small moments and in bigger hopes and plans- that the only thing I need, the only thing He wants, is my heart. All of it. For always.

Sometimes it just takes having no other personal strength or perspective left, to see that one bright one star- in what feels like a very long dark night.... to bring me back home, lift my heart up, and to enjoy that relationship fully, because He's waiting. For it, for me. Forever.

holiday decor.

My sister decorates her house in excess. She claims that its almost as if Christmas Threw Up on her house.

I could not be more different.

I have never decorated for the Holiday. Never bought a big ole tree. Nope.

Explaining this in years past I would just leave it simply with "I'm never home for Christmas". But the truth is, I just couldn't do it. Somewhat of a Scrooge, and a tenderhearted girl to family moments and traditions lost in the space between siblings, and dissolve of my parents marriage.

Last year was different. I sat through Crossroads' (Mandy's Church in Ohio), and wept through their production of Awaited (Their Christmas Show). Like seriously. Cried through nearly the entire thing. Their song "We Three Kings" unglued me. At the seams. I could not control how often the tears dropped. I had been searching. For a very long time. For something. In the midst of that performance, I was able to see without question or obstructed vision. That the Star. I have traveled so far. Both literally and figuratively. He had the power to give me sight. He restored me, in my weakness- in my hurt. The movement of the dancers, and the singular star that was positioned above them. Took my breath completely away.

We three kings.

Have traveled so far.

Through fields and mount

In pursuit of the star

And we with humanity, seek to find

What lies beyond the earth and sky...

Dreamers, three

Unsettled are we

No truth, we find

Or love that sets free

But whisper has come to our ears from afar

To rise and follow this star

Star of wonder

Star at night

Reach Reach Reach for the Star

Star of wonder

Star at night

Star of wonder, star at night...

Reach. Reach. Reach.

Oh, star of wonder star at night

Star of wonder. Star at Night.

You have the power to, to give us sight

To feed the hungry. Restore the weak.

Are you the one, for which, we seek?

We three kings. Have traveled so far.

Abandoned all.

For the sake of this star.

My heart had begun to change while in China, about what does a family look like- what will my traditions be for my children one day- how do you truly honor God in your relationships, etc... my hardened and burdened heart for my own lost traditions began to open wide so that they could be healed. Newness was not replacing beloved favorite memories, but it was helping move a very stubborn foot forward.

I am in the midst of the most stressful season of my professional life. I have had these seasons before. I would get lost into them. They were an excuse for not participating. I was able to hide.

Now that I'm here, and have hung 150 plus ornaments from the ceiling at work, I was sort of at a loss for the desire my heart had to decorate my own home. I wanted my own tree. While at brunch after Church a few weeks ago I shared this. I shared how the Lord has changed and worked in my heart in this regard. Justin suggested that at house dinner the following week, everyone would come bearing an ornament to decorate my tree. I would have a tree. And it would be decorated in friendship. Amazing. When I set my tree up I started rustling through drawers and boxes locating ornaments given to me in the past. Tiffany's was from Emily last year. Diet Coke was found somewhere awhile back- I bought it in hope that it would find its true home on a tree, just didn't know when. Up! Was purchased when they released the first Hallmark Pixar Series (I hang out with K.Piper alot, she enlightened me in this regard). It was funny to me how I'd had about half a dozen ornaments for a tree I never planned on ever having. God is funny that way.

My front door has a Wreath that Kim, my Winston BFF MADE herself. I love it. It's perfect. There are stories on the tree. A globe I found to represent all the times I've been around the world- and how now. Here. Now. Home. Is what matters most.

A home that now houses a tree.

My very first. True. Decorated and beloved tree.

I love the light it casts in the dark night- but also as the sun sets and the glow of the lights reflects on the framed photographs on the wall.

Pictures are below. Including Gracie next to her most favorite new thing. Sitting close, and near to the splendor and joy that is Christmas here. It's like she was waiting the whole time for it to come. She looks at her stocking and sniffs it, and then she sleeps next to the lights. I love it.

feeling better.

Never underestimate the feeling of being healthy. Like no more sniffling, sneezing, coughing, or headaches. I have been sick before, like in the span of my life obviously. But I've never been hit so hard back to back in the span of three weeks. The flu was awful, but the bronchial illness was enough to make my heart sad.

But the healing does come. And something even better returns- ease. Today I returned to work after two whole wonderfully purposed days off. I Christmas decorated (more on that later), I shopping for some misc. gifts, I prepped for House Dinner here tomorrow night, I hung out with Kristyn a lot, and I laughed, talked, texted, caught up, and just loved it.

I returned to work laughing at the banter of the afternoon Alexis and I shared, and began my day with Ed. Whom makes me smile and brings me out of my sometimes over focused on the details in the work place. He was visiting us to help us out while Danielle is out resting her back which she injured this week.

I mention all of this because it was marvelous to come home tonight, to sit and begin to reflect on the day and acknowledge that I feel better. The day was better. It should be important to mention that I love my job, and I love the people I work with- and even in the midst of illness I still love my job, and I still love the people I work with. But today was definitely the FUN that I'd been missing.

So. I will try and rest, and recoup. In typical fashion the next few days are manic and jam packed with work, a dinner party, work, and a flight to NYC!, and a football game, and a Family Christmas celebration early, and a flight BACK home... to work.

But I will love it all.

Especially now that my fever is gone. My coughing has stopped.

I can breathe and laugh and not hyperventilate... and its fun. Again.

Yay.

thankful.

the girls.

favorite picture from Thanksgiving.

From the moment Winston-Salem came on the scene Matt was affirming in me that he'd be at my house for Thanksgiving. The party was smaller. But that didn't make it less meaningful or special.

Explaining who I was sharing the Holiday with was interesting to new friends. Making it clear that Matt and I are not dating, and then how I knew the Pipers- considering I've never lived in Kentucky/Ohio- was interesting. Sometimes just hard to not get lost in reflection, but for the most part: its a great story. The ties that bind us continue to remain closely and tightly woven in a beautiful, remarkably resilient and wonderfully poignant way.

I remember going to hang out with Robin and Kristyn Piper the weekend before Christmas a couple of years ago. I went to help decorate the several Robin Piper Christmas Trees and shop and cook and laugh and love on them. I barely knew them. Tex had just moved to Oregon, and I knew that I was spending Christmas with them as a family. I was driving back to Virginia from Kentucky and I remember I was talking to my mother about the long weekend we had all shared together. Kristyn, Robin, and I ate some amazing meals- played Rummikub until all hours of the night, laughed a lot, and we cried for people we missed, parts of our families hurting, and just loved each other a lot. I told my mother that I felt like then, even before I knew the future and how it was all going to play out- that part of why Tex and I met and shared such an incredible story, was to get me to those women. And to get those women into my life. Because the sisterhood and love that was born was instant. It resembled a lot of what I felt like when Tex and I became friends.

Through fights, and tears, and the rollercoaster of the originating Piper friendship- I'm humbled and amazed (albeit shocked and surprised) and how tightly Robin, Kristyn and I have clung together in sharing life, love, Holidays and friendship. Not to mention, Kristyn moving to Winston-Salem!

Sitting at my dinner table on Thursday night were not my sisters, or my brothers, or my parents. But I had a brother. A sister. And a mother.

Sometimes I think about the family I will have one day. The kids that will call me mom. The man that will call me theirs. I daydream about being moved Internationally with my current job, which is becoming more of a reality each day. And sometimes I worry that I will have to choose between dreams and realities. Then I'm able to sit back and reflect that while my name is not mom, and there is not a ring positioned on my left hand. That I still have young people in my life I love dearly like they were mine. And that I'm claimed by a loving and living God each day. I have a family that is my own. They are a group of characters that have been accumulated and kept through the years, and they are mine.

I am thankful for them. Those at the table. And for the several friends and siblings of mine that are scattered up and down the East Coast and to the West that I continue to know and love- and share this crazy life with.

Next week my family is meeting in NYC for the Giants/Packers Game. It will be the only time I'll be able to spend with them for Christmas. I can't wait. I am not sure there's much more room in this overwhelming heart for more of what I've just experienced. True and lasting love and friendship. (Even my brother Justin is flying in from California for the game!)

Amazing. Thanks to Matty for helping keep my favorite Holiday tradition alive, and being the best friend and brother a girl could ask for. And love. Endless love and gratitude to the 2 Piper women that have never let me go.

sunflowers.

I have noticed in the unpacking and setting up a new house that you can truly start afresh. You can leave memories tucked into boxes that you've not yet been able to sever yourself from. You can remove photograph's from frames. You can keep mementos of a story, a love, a friendship, a time, a season hidden from view. Having a Birthday recently, and compiling my Christmas Card the other day may have heightened this awareness as I visually looked at all of the events of this year. It's been interesting.

A few weeks ago I completed the decorating project known as: Kari's New Place. There will be a separate blog entry posting favorite new things, favorite new places for old things, and just some things that I believe make a home- really a home.I was done placing photographs on walls. Several new pieces made their debut. Some old ones that I still love so much, and can't decide what new should take over. There are a few that were replaced immediately so that their reminders were made a little less raw.

The truth is. Tex and I aren't friends anymore. The story is long, and there are moments when I'm able to rise above what has been said that has been so hurtful, and for the things unspoken that I think should have been said, and I'm able to have a moment of pure. sweet. uninhibited gratitude. However. Those moments are too infrequent, and too much time spans between them. I pray that they will grow closer together, but right now I'm in the valley of anger, resentment, disappointment, and judgement about it all. I have learned that you can un friend someone on Facebook. Edit out songs on your iPod. Take pictures out of frames. Change the way you tell certain stories. Remove reminders. The best, moving to a new place- the ghosts and memories dissipate. Before you know it, you've nearly wiped out a memory, an entire person. It's so bizarre.

I've not wanted to write about it, then wanted too but felt I couldn't. And then today finally sat and looked through old posts here about what has been good, hard, true, and real... and knew that this story. This part of this story was and is true to me. It's part of what I'm learning. It's becoming part of who I am. I won't ramble on about what he said, or what I did. I will share that decorating a new home, in the wake of that relationship ending in finality- hurt with the reflections I found in perfectly chosen and coordinated frames. Without even thinking I moved through each room and placed things that I loved and repositioned them countless times trying to find their space, their placement of perfection. It wasn't until my birthday that I realized I had one picture left to select, and only a few pieces the right size to put in this one place: my bathroom.

The one picture I had refused to place anywhere else up to that point remained on the bed. It was a photograph I received last year for my birthday from Tex. A field of sunflowers. My most favorite flower. It was a perfect gift, last year from a beloved and treasured friend. He took it, and it makes me laugh because its a point of view I would have captured myself. He did good.

This year, on my birthday I stood and reflected on the year. That person. And all of the moments I have listened and been challenged by Christ in Church recently during our sermon series came into full volume.

My heart is bitter, hardened and angry towards Tex. I have specific reasons that I sometimes hold onto so tightly because they justify me. But the truth is, having a hardened heart towards one person- hardens my heart to all people, especially in my relationship with Jesus. We are called to pray for our enemies. I hadn't prayed for Tex in a long time. So a few weeks ago with this challenge posed, I began to pray. Not for our friendship, not for anything related to me. But for him. That has been so hard. Sometimes I get so mad. Sometimes I want to call him up and scream... but then I know somewhere afterwards we'd probably start laughing... which would just hurt more then the screaming.

Most of the time it leaves me quiet. Hurting. And sad.

But as I've prayed for Him. I know that my heart continues to heal. Not in hope for anything more then I will know and proclaim Jesus through each breath, step, and moment of this life. In the good and the bad. When I'm sad and frustrated. When I'm excited and joyful. My heart will be open to His calling, timing, purpose and Love. My spirit will respond to His peace when I'm unable to see or feel anything else.

Thinking all of those things I decided to place the sunflower picture that I had been hiding behind other choices in my bathroom. Its purpose is that in seeing this picture that I will remember to pray, for Tex, for the hurt that I am fighting and watching be healed in an authentically slow and marvelous pace. It's not meant to serve a reminder of the past, or the friendship. It's an image that will force me to remember. To pray. Its the one place I see each and everyday multiple times a day. I can breeze past hallways, and I can avoid guest rooms. But my bathroom. Is central to my daily routine. I will pray. Sometimes I wonder what or if there is a photograph placed with purpose in his house, I wonder if he struggled like I did, with so many old photographs- so many old memories. I hope there is one, that remains.

Sometimes when I'm brushing my teeth I will look at it through the mirror. If I have shoes on I can sometimes see a glimmer of silver that catches the light. On the ledge of the frame rests a key, carefully placed out of sight. When I took the key off my necklace collection of keys and my lock weeks ago, I had it hidden away in its box. The other day I thought about it, and realized its home was here- where sometimes I'd see it, sometimes I wouldn't. But they are together. Not to celebrate or remember a person. To remember to grow. To keep moving forward. To stop cycles. To hold onto what is real. To be honest. To love more. To embrace Jesus.

To Pray.

For our enemies. For those that hurt us.

To have a heart softened, and pursuing Christ with fervor.

I have and continue to meet amazing people. I am busy with work, with my new church, with social groups, and visits from friends. The pace is hectic and busy, and sometimes I'm so content in the new life here that I forget to look back on the story... the road to here. The people that line that journey, those that continue to contribute. I obviously, never imagined that Tex would be part of the past. I never. Never. Never. thought that. (n e v e r).

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, which I love so much I have tried to spend some time reflecting on the blessings of this year and life. And when I'm honest and vulnerable with myself and God, I sense my heart so hurt and hardened by this entire situation turn to mushy goo, when I think about how happy I am, how great my life is- even in spite of sadness because I am growing and blessed abundantly.

Love is a choice. Friendship is a choice. Forgiveness is a choice. Grace is a choice. I pray that I continue to show discernment and vulnerability with those choices. That I'd be filled with the Spirit, and would approach relationships with continued optimism and hope. That I'd be aware that deceit, secrets, and cycles are a choice too. Mistreating someone we love is a choice, we blame dispositions/time/circumstances... I pray that I would be shown where to grow in those spaces and places to choose better.

But mostly.

My heart swells because I know, that I am loved. (Oh, So l o v e d.)

It's everywhere in my life right now. Sunrises and Sunsets. Nights around bonfires with new friends. Surprises on my Birthday. Letters and Care Packages. Laughter. Real true friendship.

And so, I am also thankful for someone I knew a season, whom I thought would be a lifetime- and I pray.

one picture.

I am in the process of designing and creating my christmas card for this year. It is one of my favorite things to do. I think about it nearly the entire year. Last year was fairly epic: I credit turning 30 and feeling the sincere desire to celebrate a difficult year with much learned.

This year I have debated and considered how many photo's and which ones that captured best each individual thing. The first year I launched this tradition was in 2008. I remember what was on it. The girls that lived in the house at the time, me in California, the picture of BC and I on an elephant in Thailand. The people have been fairly consistent, Matt has been present I think on all of them? I am pretty sure.

Last year I was able to break down and apart what the key things were of the year. All of the faces, places, and moments unspoken in a silent image.

This year.

It's different.

I have selected a template that allows 9 photographs to be chosen. I have already created a file of more then 30 options. I will have more to add to that list in the coming weeks, with Winston Thanksgiving, and the Packers/Giants game with my family.

Right now the card sits temporarily completed. The nine photographs are poignant to this year. Matt, and Mandy are obviously represented. As are my sisters. The Roanoke friends are too.

But what has also made its home in the line up are two photographs of life here. In this place, time, and space.

I just got home from Life Group. We are getting into Exodus with our Sermon Series, and some tender and sensitive spaces in people are starting to come out. I love it. I love hearing about what people have learned. I love hearing people hash out whether they would believe the warnings of the Plagues, or if they would have a hardened heart like Pharoah. I love everything about the conversation, the questions, the dynamic. I love that I'm not the strongest or the weakest. I might just be the most articulate? Probably. I'll take it. I'm growing a ton. Like I leave and I can actually reflect on choices, moments, and life- and everything about it feels. So different.

On my drive home I thought about this christmas card that I tend to get crazily and excitingly obsessed about. I sometimes get wrapped up about how much different, better, or more fun it will be this year compared to last.

Then I think about if there was one image. One picture to sum it all up- what would that picture be? What do I feel takes every nuance, joy, heartache, lesson, and love and presents it the most poignantly.

How lucky am I.

That I make a file to choose a collection of 9, and there are over 30.

How on earth could I pick.

Just.

One.

Then I think about and see this picture. It's one of the series I took for my "I moved" postcard. It was a favorite profile picture on facebook, for a long time.

There are a few things that I love about this picture.

a. Facing forward, while taking a glance back.

b. In front of a house I love. And still own. A house I pray for each day that those living inside would know the same love, safety, and security that I knew my entire residence.

c. I am so. Happy.

My last two weeks in Lexington were really. really. hard. I was heartbroken for memories. For ghosts. For people that are no longer real, and do not exist. I would open boxes that had been taped shut for a year, and I would hurt as their contents were revealed. I even called Mandy asking her to come help me. I couldn't do it. I lost it. And then something happened.

Something shifted. It was quiet. And like the sun rising to great us for the day, it felt like God saying, "I told you I'd come back. I told you I would rise. Again."

And so I learned how to grieve. Truly grieve memories and relationships while simulataneously celebrating such an amazing work done in my heart, life, spirit, and walk with the Lord.

I was happy. In being found broken, and made whole. Again. Each day.

My life in North Carolina is not a stretch from what anyone imagined it would be, or become. I am a social butterfly. I'm joining amazing community. I'm excelling at my job- and am the favorite of the district. Everything has lined up, and continues to live out perfectly. Insanely perfectly. Like almost too perfect, you wait for the other shoe to drop. I was waiting for that shoe- and instead a boy surprised me for my birthday. A very different sort of shoe. It's true. But that shoe, and the many other steps that led me to this place remind me of this girl. That stood with her favorite green shirt. Armed with a camera and her remote clicker to capture a goodbye moment in front of her house.

This year. This picture. Would sum it up.

The sun did rise. God did and continues to show me His grace is never ending, His love unceasing. I waited. And waited. And hurt. And broke apart- that last couple of weeks. I placed myself tenderly and quietly in a bubble. And I celebrated so much friendship I could have busted.

Tonight I sat in a room of new friends. Who might one day feel like family. We are still getting acquainted, and learning the pace of conversation and vulnerability.

But it felt like home.

Just like I felt, knew, and embraced in this picture.

God. He's just so amazing.

I walked into my apartment tonight with the Apple TV still shuffling (to keep Grace company). Remembering the English translation of the song playing, I smiled and reflected on a God that has been in each sunset, and rise of the moon- in every City, and time zone. He has never. Left. Never.

When He felt far away- I would dream, and my words always failed.

I knew. I knew that He was with me.

He, my moon and sun- and every star in the sky, was and is with me.

The English translation of Con Te Partiro:

"When you are far away.

I dream on the horizon, and words fail.

And yes, I know that you are with me.

You, my Moon are here with me.

My Sun, you are here with me."

31.

My dad just left. He was here for a couple of days and I was able to show off my new town, employment, and life here in this space. It was great.

I am realizing more and more how important it is to invite people in, to bring them in from outside conversations- things talked about while on vacation, trips, or while in different locations.

The heart of life.

The heart of relationships are at home.

Real things are talked about at the table, while there is chaos in the kitchen.

Tenderness is found on the couch when you are touched and held in a cozy place.

Home is where it all comes back.

I always have had an open door policy for my house. Dinner could be made at a moments notice. Sisters could always know there was a place to be for however long they needed. Hospitality is one of my things. It's a passion. And I can always sense struggle in either my own heart, or in a relationship if something is off at home. If I have someone over, or a family member in town and its too hard- or something is difficult with them being at the house, there is something that needs to be addressed in the relationship, (though personal space issues aside).

Not that any of those thoughts are new- I think I'm just still working out what it looks like and means. In a new place. With a set of different walls.

Last weekend I knew that JJ was coming to visit. I had invited and hoped that Kaitlan and Leah would also be able to make the trip- as our Vegas plans got postponed. There were legit reasons for both of them, so I never really daydreamed that either of the girls would show up. On Friday afternoon however, pouring out the Jetta though not Kaitlan, was Leah and Alexis. You could have picked me up off of the ground, I was that surprised.

I had the flu last week. Pretty much incapacitated for 48 hours. When my Birthday came, I hoped to gather some hours in the morning that I could be quiet. Run my errands. Spend some time with just me, my thoughts, and yes- my constantly beeping and ringing phone. I felt loved for days before 31 arrived, but it was special. And when the car arrived full of friends from Virginia, and not even Lexington- but Roanoke, I was flabbergasted. In the best way possible. In a way that meant I knew and was processing how amazing the Lord worked in those friendships, that they'd want to pursue me to celebrate. For three full days.

Alexis had never been to the Lexington house, nor met Gracie. Two fairly large markers in my life. There were moments that I would watch him soak it all in, and just find his place in the movement of girl talk and conversation. Leah and JJ walked through each room, poured over each wall, and took the time appreciating each small detail placed with care, thought, and love.

On Friday afternoon I was still 30 seconds behind them, just feeling worn out from the illness, and truly speechless. The pace was finally set, we all in sync, and I showed them my life. I opened up in ways that I knew I hadn't when they worked for me. I brought them to work. We talked at lunch about my life, what I'm learning, how I feel stretched. What's been hard. What's hurt. What's finally healed. What's arrived. It was amazing.

The weekend was a lot of that.

Our collective relationships all took a turn after those three days. We laughed and watched a lot of movies, got lunch delivered, quoted comedians and favorite memories. We were quiet, while together. Gracie loved taking her rounds to maximize her attention.

Leah was challenged, loved, and held accountable to her dreams in a way she hadn't been yet.

JJ and I got to laugh and share like we always had, just different because dB wasn't the backdrop of conversation or complaint.

Alexis and I took a step forward. One that I never anticipated being asked to consider, or an intention made known.

Turning 31 could not look more different then 30.

Last year there was an ache for an arrival, and someone missing from the party.

Last year I knew that something huge was about to shift and happen, though I didn't know yet, what.

Last year my voice was burdened with hurt, even though I spoke in strength and confidence in the Lord.

This year.

I sat at a dinner table with new friends, and older friends- and celebrated the diversity and likeness of people I have met and loved.

This year I was not aching for an arrival, nor was I searching for anyone else.

This year I have experienced the something huge that happened, and the overwhelming joy that has come from being patient for the right thing.

This year my voice speaks mostly love, echoes laughter- and my silences speak a consistent strength and confidence in a loving Savior whom has loved me so much and so perfectly.

30.

Turning you, was amazing. It was a great year. I learned, loved, lost and let go of a lot. And while I wish I could have changed people, or some details of what transpired- I wouldn't change the goodness that came from seeing relationships, jobs, a house, and a town all the way through.

31 came and a week later my dad arrived. Remarking at the details of the life I've facilitated and created here. Loving each nuance. And finally, when leaving "you look and sound so happy. That's the best." Yes. Dad. That is the best.

At home. In and of myself. And really thankful for the amazing people in my life that pushed me to this place, and continue to participate.

So far 31 has been completely fun, and unexpected. In great ways.

monday has arrived.

jj. came with 2 surprises.

it's monday.

i'm still breaking down how i feel about this past birthday weekend, full of all sorts of laughter, quiet moments, dance parties, and tenderness.

i was celebrated.

a lot.

and that.

was amazing.

the very amazing party planner, my new BFF: Kim

the party crew. there was a lot of sequins. loved it.

she. never ceases to throw things at me. in love.

she "gets" me.

1 of 2 surprises. was literally shocked.

the 2nd surprise. i screamed. twice.

a little ride...

we took a ride to asheville.

it was sublime.

the perfect day for it.

blue sky.

trees on fire.

and gracie.

loved it.

hardened heart.

I knew that Salem Chapel was special when I went my first Sunday with a new friend. I knew that any group of people gathering in a Middle School while a permanent home was searched for, were people of vision. Of hope and faith for what God was going to provide them in the future, and in the meantime were able to take a middle school shell and create... a sense of home and familiarity. A place where walls come down, and people grow: in Christ. In community with each other. Because life together, and life shared pursuing Christ are the best relationships to have.

My first Sunday I found myself trying not to focus on the pastor whom is originally from Canada, as I picked up on his accent and kept giggling as I said, "aboot" in my head. He told the story of his son. And any man telling a story of his little boy is always priceless- but adding the emotional element, I just sort of get carried away.

His son asked him "Dad, what would happen if I got lost in the forest?"

He explains, "I would come find you."

"Dad, what would you do if a bear captured me in the forest?"

He replies, "I would come find you."

"Dad, what if the bear ate me and I was a million pieces inside his belly?"

Still not understanding the origin of this interrogation he says, "I would go into the Bear's belly, and I would put you back together again."

"Dad. What if a man with a knife took me?"

"Well, I would find that man and I would take you back."

After concluding the sermon, reminding the congregational that God is God- and that we need to remember that while we have a heart seeking and chasing after Christ- that we are not Christ. We may have a likeness to His heart. And we may have desires that match his own...

We are not God. We must be obedient to his work in, through, and for us.

He explains, "At some point I will have to explain to my son that if he were lost in the woods, that I would try to find him- but that God knows where he is. And that if a bear had him in a million pieces in his belly, that I would try- but God knows where to find him and would put him back together again. And finally that, if a man had him with a knife- that God would find him- and God would have that man."

Tears chocked in his throat. I was captivated. We sang a song that I tried to scribble down the words too, but couldn't keep up. Thankfully the church blog has a set list with links to iTunes. I am grateful for this tool to keep connected in the week to the music perfectly themed to the message on Sunday.

The relationship I had with the pastor and his family in my last church experience was poignant and personal. I will always love the Daley family, and wish that we lived closer together then we do now. I have been so tenderly loved by them. They have encouraged me to sever unhealthy and hurtful ties with those that are unwise, unloving, and instead find my value and worth in Christ. They have celebrated with me milestones, and victories, and have consistently asked me (even recently) what they can do to impact the move, transition, family hurts, friendships that have come to a pass, and my search to create new community here. They are special, wonderfully supportive friends. Not to mention, the ways that I have grown simply based on the messages I have been able to hear from the pulpit.

I may have come into Winston-Salem skeptical that I would find something that I have loved as much as my experience at Tabernacle.

It is Monday night. And I have been thinking fairly nonstop about the message I heard while at church yesterday, my second visit to Salem Chapel. It's been a cycle that I can't stop, and I am not rushing it.

It's difficult when you are asked in a room full of strangers, "what is the nature of your heart? Is it hardened?".... that you feel like there could possibly be an arrow above your head- a spot light, and you think everyone is noticing you. Just you.

Truth is. I'm in a wonderfully open, and vulnerable space right now with myself, others, Christ, and the unknown. I am doing really well- and I'm truly happy.

But there are spaces and places in my heart that are just... tender. Tender and impressionable and somewhat calloused and angered. Sometimes anger is safe because it controls how open and vulnerable you have to be with someone else, yourself, and most especially God himself.

One place that I'm unable to understand is frustrated that you can delete a friendship on facebook, you can replace pictures framed on the wall, you can take songs off your iPod, and you can remove keys from chains... but there is a space. A place reserved. That is hurting. That is sometimes hard, that is sometimes bitter, that is sometimes angry... that is sometimes disappointed. What is funny about all of those things you can control, change, edit, and forget- is that Jesus lives. He is bigger, stronger, and He will get in your way about something until you can't ignore it. I have thought about this for 24 hours, nonstop. And right when I thought I had controlled the thoughts, even foolishly resolved them (albeit temporarily)... I sat at Starbucks in the mall near work and had my dinner while I scribbled away at postcards. The radio. Jesus in the radio. Began with Josh Groban, and ended with David Cook. I noted and reflected on my heart, which I had begun to recognize was so hurt, so angry, and so uninterested in letting those things go- the self righteousness and entitlement thick.

And I remembered the challenge posed yesterday. To pray. For those "enemies". I put that word in quotations because... the part of my heart not bitter, can't bear to think of this person and the word enemies in the same sentence. So I prayed. And ever so softly and slowly... a smile.

It was a victorious and hopeful moment.

For a moment, I knew that my keeping anger and hurt close, wasn't going to keep me safe.

I was so afraid of loosening my grip on that, because of what it would mean I was accepting. What I was going to desire. What was actually never going to change.

A smile. In the midst of all of those things that I still felt.

Meant that the one thing I was afraid of letting go, was robbing me of what I needed to come.

Less bitterness.

Less anger.

Less disappointment.

So that I could be grateful for a memory.

And not regret the whole of it.

Regret feels safe.

But that's a lie.

Salem Chapel. Is where I will be making my home. Because in 8 days time, I have been challenged to re-examine and rethink 2 months of hard, calloused, bruised, and broken pieces of my heart. I've been reminded that while if I get lost in the woods, and Mandy and Matt might search for me- that regardless, God knows where I am. I know that if a bear eats me and I'm in a million pieces in his belly- that my brother may capture that bear and want to put me together again- that he can't. But God can. I know that if a man takes me with a knife, that my dad can try and track down that man- but God has him, and has me. Quietly and perfectly tucked into the nature and heart of His perfect love and will.

And most miraculously, I was able to smile at Jesus in the Radio for a moment before sadness reminded me that it still lurks around the corner. In that one moment- I remembered what is most true, honest, and worthwhile is never what we hold onto thinking will bring us safety or comfort. It is always- having a heart of Christ... and wrapping that up tightly around our hearts so that we are less stubborn, and less hard. More soft.

That's just scary sometimes.

Yet. In the fear. The scary nature of unknown landscapes of our own hearts.

God is beautiful.

And making beautiful spaces out of the truly bruised, broken and hard parts of our hearts when we are able to pray. Even for. Those who have hurt us. Pray that they will know, see, feel, and be drawn to the beautiful nature of Christ. Because. That's important.

He is beautiful. He restores and redeems our filth, doubt, anger, and... reminds us that there is beauty. There is love. There is hope- in the sunrise, the moonlit night, on the tree where His love was given as a sacrifice... He is beautiful. He is making my heart more beautiful as I let go. Of those hard places and spaces.

A choice. Love is a choice. And loving where we have been unloved is a choice that God always makes. Making a choice to follow and love Jesus, means that today, and everyday- regardless of how difficult... I choose love. Even. When we don't think we can.

We can.

How amazingly different our relationships would be- if we remembered to stop explaining, justifying, or apologizing based on "how or who" we are- and instead remembered to choose better. To change to be better. To choose love. Each time.

Learning.

A lot.

Right now.

And below, is my current favorite song from church.

"I see your face in every sunrise

The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes

The world awakens to the light of the day,

I look up to the sky- and say,

You are beautiful.

I see your power in the moonlit night,

Where planets are in motion and galaxies are bright

We are amazed in the night of the stars

It's all proclaiming who you are,

You are beautiful.

I see you there hanging on a tree,

You bled and then you died and then you rose again for me,

Now you are sitting on your heavenly throne,

Soon we will be coming home,

You are beautiful.

When we arrive at eternity's shore,

Where death is just a memory and tears are no more,

We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring-

Your bride will come together and we'll sing,

You're beautiful."

a preview.

five dollar bill

Best $5 bill spent ever.

A Choice.

I just finished watching Felicity. I sort of procrastinated the end after flying through the first 3 1/2 seasons, then I slowed down. I wanted to delay the consequential ending. I keep thinking about one thing she said to Ben about how their relationship wasn't working. No doubt they both cared about each other. And no doubt that they desired to be in each other's lives. While not an exact quote, it went something like this: "You know who I am, and you pursued me. You want something with me. But you aren't strong enough to have it. And, that makes you a coward." The words were taken out of my heart. I've not been able to let go of the phrasing since. What I love about the last season is that magnetic pull I have to something about where she was when it was finished. Having to let go of something, er someone... to be able to fully embrace what she chose. Who she was going to love. Who she was going to be loved by. Her family of hilarious friends truly reminded me of characters I know and love in my own life. I think I really should write a sit com pilot based on some of our relationships/dynamics.

I woke up on Saturday morning from a strange dream in which I was in one of the final episodes of Felicity. When I woke up, I did not remember much of it. Just how it felt. Then Courtney woke up and I was able to start talking about it more. I was able to piece together who each person was- some consistent people, and some new. Some that I was able to do what I deemed the impossible, and let go. Some that I think I might be in the process of meeting right now. Some people- who have been there the whole time.

Mostly. I could identify in the reality of the morning with the fictional dose of a dream, that we love based on a feeling, on a calling, on a desire, attraction, chemistry, on friendship, on discipline, on grace, and especially on forgiveness. But we also choose it.

We choose to see past things in love- that without its presence would never tolerate.

We choose to laugh again after a long absence with hope that we would never initiate on our own.

We exude joy when we choose to believe in the power of love. The power that love has on, in, and through us. God is just that mighty. As the epitome of being, providing, bestowing, giving, and even times take away to replace with a new truth... for God, His love was a choice too. It was a son. Born. To a virgin- eons ago. His choice was to provide, the way, the truth, and the light so that even if we didn't choose it, acknowledge it, accept it, or trust it- the opportunity was always waiting. Right next to our free will. Which. Because he's God and that is amazing... He gave us out of His choice too. Because His love is endless. His love does not birth pain, jealousy, or hurt. His love births truth, light, hope, peace, forgiveness... so that our sin can find redemption. When we choose to see it. Touch it. Know it. Accept it. Live it. Grip it with both hands- while simultaneously letting go with our spirits.

I choose to love Gracie. I adopted and rescued her from the SPCA. She has proven to be THE BIGGEST and BEST rescue mission I've ever executed.

I choose to love my Family. They are mine. And I am theirs. We belong to each other in a hodge podge of miscellaneous unions and circumstances. But those kids. They belong to me. I belong to them. It is a choice to not take them for granted. To call them. To visit them. To open doors to a home to provide a safe place... for an undisclosed amount of time.

I choose to love my best friends. I choose to jump over the hurdles that come with time, distance, space, and the details of life. I choose to jump because I know that they are jumping and running along side me. Sometimes they lead and I am so far behind I can only make out their shadows of movement. Sometimes we grab each others hands, and hold tightly onto the promises our hearts whisper in the unspoken moment between pure, deep, unconditional love. I choose them, and they've chosen me. The truest ones have never let me go. Best ones have come and gone, and new ones enter the story at the most perfect time. But when I think of endless time, endless laughter I think of Matt and Mandy almost simultaneously. The list behind them is blessed. With decades shared between us, and some just a fraction of time. The beginning of those sort of friendships... are the magical memory makers .

Moving to a new place you tend to think of people you knew in previous lives. You think back to elementary school, and then through all the years following. It's scary and comforting all at the same time. And you can't help but wonder who is coming.

Love is a choice. Sometimes we make the right choice. Sometimes we don't. The best and most we can hope for, is that we treat others with respect. With grace. With tenderness. Honesty. And compassion. It's not always easy.

But.

The choice.

Is always worth it.

Choose to love someone today.

With intention.

With gestures of kindness.

With love letters of appreciation and tenderness.

Love.

Big.

It is in effect. The best choice to make in the day.

dixie classic fair. so fun.

tonight.

Blessed beyond measure by the people in my life.

So much more to come.

So much to say about the past few days.

But had to say...

Tonight,

I miss this girl.

A lot.

pausing. a moment.

I am packing for Disney.

I am preparing for a major visual floorset at work I will be missing.

I am a little drugged up with vicodin.

I am not able to focus well.

I have gchatted with Africa.

I have ruined one box of Mac and Cheese b/c I forgot about it.

I have emptied two bags trying to find 1 thing.

I am in the midst of my 3rd load of laundry.

I have texted and laughed.

I have made plans for next week with someone I met last weekend.

I have updated my phone with movies.

I can't find my phone charger and am going to trust that Courtney will remember.

I am wondering when I'm supposed to take more medicine, b/c I can't remember when I took this dosage.

I miss Matty and Mandy tonight for some reason. Just do. It's probably because the last time I was in Disney World I was with them.

I cleaned off my memory card on my little camera and found the ones below... covering such a wide assortment of things...

And so back to packing and cleaning I go.

But I had to pause before these photographs and document them here. The only journal and marker of time I've been able to keep up with!

here.

Before you know it... life envelops you.

I think what is interesting about moving to a new place where you don't know anyone outside of the people you work with... is that there is a lot of waiting. Before you move, you wade through boxes, memories, and last moments shared with people you love- waiting for the last goodbye. Waiting for those boxes to be moved. And waiting for new life to begin.

Then you move. And wade through those same boxes, that recall memories and last moments shared and you can't wait to talk to people that you love, having survived the last goodbye and now just wanting to say hello.

After the unpacking and settling into your space, you sort of balance between a social life where you once lived, and the one you are about to have. The period of time where you are having to figure out who you are going to pursue, and be open to being pursued by. Sometimes its a long period. However, sometimes... its not.

It is Saturday night and I'm exhausted. Not because work is so hard or so much. But because I have been thrown into, and welcomed into a really fun social life. The past two nights I've been out with great people, and great laughter. And today at work my new friend Ashley came into work to say hi, and it felt like I had known her my entire life. It was bizarre. It was new life. Not waiting in between random worlds and points. I am still processing how I feel about it, where I think some new relationships will go, and what is up. But I have felt seen, heard, and loved. It's been a great transition to Winston-Salem, and this week I was able to really see and feel where this life is taking shape and God is molding each step and person that crosses my path.

And it's great.

Amazing in fact.

And I laugh because I don't know why I ever even had doubt. For a second.

Not doubt that I made the wrong choice- but doubt on how long it would take to feel...

Like me. Here.

All the way me.

All the way here.

I love.It.

(dr.apt)

I can't really talk about it yet. It sort of just makes me upset. Ok. It totally makes me upset. But I finally gave in and went to the Dr. today about my feet, and the pain. I handled the first cortisone shot well- but the 2nd one reduced me to tears, and I sort of almost threw up/passed out.

I have been advised to think about surgery- its not mandatory but the Dr. believes due to the severe tendon damage that it may become necessary in the future. It was sort of traumatic emotional experience in light of the apt. And I went into work only to leave 10 minutes later in tears. I've been learning a lot about how God is in control, and how important it is to follow the wisdom and care of a physician. But, that is not easy for me, and right now I'm freaking out about surgery and what that will entail.

About three weeks ago I made a decision to not do the 1/2 marathon in Disney- but that I was still going, and Courtney agreed to do the 5K with me. At this point I'm not entirely sure how the 5K is going to happen, but I'm hopeful that once the reaction I'm having with the shot subsides that I will be able better gauge how to not exert myself in a way that prevents me from having an AMA-zing time in Disney with people that I absolutely love.

I can't believe the way that this whole situation with my feet escalated. I'm pissed at myself for not going sooner, but I know that I can't beat myself up about it- it won't change anything. It is what it is, and part of me wants to scream at my computer that I just wrote that, and meant it.

Anyway- I'm thankful for a prayer team of people that I can email at the latest hour and then wake up to messages this morning as I prepared for the appointment. Prayer works. Follow up apt is next week. I'm hoping I do not get another shot, because I seriously don't think I could handle that again. And now I'm hoping that the master physician and healer will bring all of this inflammation and pain to a comfortable place and I'll be able to kick the 5K's ass, and meet Tigger with Joy.

near to Christ.

I will have more to say about church but one thing just stayed with me all day...

"Who has God placed near to you, that is far from Him?

Who is just waiting on the invitation?

Who is God calling you to see, really see-

pursue and love where they are at and show Jesus?"

The rest of the day I thought about a lot of different people. Different friends. Co-workers. Family members. People that I have missed. Some people that I know I could have loved differently or better.

Yet in the midst of the sermon- there was one person I had I let go of because I deserved better, that kept coming to mind. I had let go because I knew that holding on put responsibility on me that was still angry at them for being a coward. This morning I thought about how God placed this person near to me, during a difficult period when I was further from Christ and myself then I should have been and how thankful I was that they led, loved, and pursued me well and I grew. I changed. I matured. I became who I needed to be, to finally in the face of something no longer healthy- could stand up and say no.

No more.

This morning in a congregation full of people that I did not know I sat quietly with the Lord and reflected on the work done in my heart and life because someone was near to me, and helped draw me closer to the Father. How that history and love does not change in the midst of a relationship changed or dissolved. It was a grateful, somber moment. Weighted and heavy. Resolute and tangible.

I am encouraged today by remembering and recollecting how the Lord worked and used so much of that time of my life- and I am excited and hopeful by the challenge posed today by the pastor to recognize moments in front my face to be open and bold to the opportunities to seek, see, invite, and love like Jesus.

Who do you have in your life that you know is not near to Christ, but is near to you?

As someone who has been so changed, transformed and saved by the invitation someone has posed to me in truth- what are you doing to impact and reflect the glory of Jesus, where you are?