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.