Matty

Today I begin with Matty.

I love this man.

Today is his birthday.

We have celebrated every year since we've met. (Seven years ago).

This morning with Miles and Mandy we ate breakfast and told stories.

We laughed.

We randomly burst out into song.

He is my brother, a best friend,

pop culture conversator (is that even a word?), and prayer warrior.

Happy Birthday my beloved friend.

Smooches.

xoxoxo

Kurry

A View of Gratitude

Today has been an alright kind of day. Not my favorite, but quiet before the fun that will take place this weekend. I woke up and had a slow morning, it took me awhile to pull open the shades to the day and things I hoped to tackle. I uploaded a ridiculous amount of pictures to Facebook, and then I went to Covington Honda to get my car service and engine light fixed. Two hours later a young man walks in, sits down and asks me to change the channel so we could watch Ellen. Lady Gaga was on repeat, and we shared a conversation about Gaga, and pop culture. He was the last person I'd imagine with an opinion, but alas we should never judge a book by its cover.

In leaving however I began thinking about my car, I've had it five years September. I began to think about 5 years ago right now. I began to feel the walls close in around me as I broke down the past 5 years of my life, and 156,000 miles on my car. I'd say after that things kind of lulled out. I went to Walmart and came home, grabbed my mail, and knew that I had to start unpacking my bedroom. It was time. I was suffocating in the undone.

As I pulled items out of boxes and unwrapped small glass objects and placed them back in the home they last knew, I thought over and over again: "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

This admission is not a surprise, nor is it ridiculous. I don't indulge my heart many moments such as that one to feel the weight of current life circumstances. But today I could not run.

But I began to make a list.

My biological father, whom I never met face to face after I was a year old was a recovering alcoholic and celebrated 23 years of sobriety 1 month and 3 days before his death five years ago, July 26th. Of my favorite and most prized possessions (including his watch, photographs that my very talented paternal grandfather took, and my grandmother's quilt) are pieces of paper with his handwriting on it. I have letters, and cards from him that I treasure, but among those with his hand meeting the page is a small yellow pad of paper. There are pages upon pages of things that he wrote that day he was grateful for. They ranged from his faith in God, relationship with his mother, the sunshine, and scribbled away almost ineligibly was 'that my daughter is safe'.

He wrote gratitude lists every day as part of working 'the program', and I am so thankful that among those things I found in his home next to my letters, was this very unnoticeable priceless collection of thoughts. They document part of his journey.

I have never written a gratitude journal. Even when Oprah got on the bandwagon years ago- I never did it. I always felt like "God knows I'm thankful", and just moved on. Today in the midst of a day in which I was face to face with a plan I did not choose, I understood why to be consciously grateful mattered. It means that in every and all circumstances that we are choosing to change the periscope we view life, ourselves, and God and instead of closing in by what is not- we are opening up to what is.

I unpacked and I folded, and I struggled- but the thoughts in my head found a pattern of gratitude and for which I found a resting place. My list was long, and I didn't write it down. But I know that I began with Christ- and then I went on to be thankful,

For the man I never knew but loved me so deeply

For Gracie

For this home

For time

For the stamps in my passport

For Crystal Light and Diet Coke

For XM Radio

For postcards

For conviction

For hope

For being chosen by Christ

For promises unspoken and unseen, and lastly for what was supposed to happen that didn't, so that I could experience what is... and what is coming.

Thankful for a lesson of love and hope, scribbled away on what would otherwise be an ordinary yellow note pad.

Hurts?

At some point last night I was able to fall asleep after meandering through some tough emotional territory. This summer has been one of my favorites: no questions asked. However, it has cut and it has pushed and there are a lot of things about it that I still sit and think, "wait. did that really happen?" (both in great, great ways, and in some sad ways too).

I think in that place I am coming to terms with some realities that for all the hype spoken, and for all the good intentions just are not what was hoped for (that sentence covers such an expanse of situations: its ridiculous). This place arrived a few days ago, but came into full voice yesterday while hanging out with Patrick. At one point we sat outside Starbucks in Roanoke, and we discussed and dissected life as we know it, and I also quietly listened to him retrace the past 7 years we have known each other. It was fun to talk, but it felt vaguely similar to a conversation I usually had with someone else.

At the end of our time together he gave affirmations and encouragements for the place I am, and shared that while he realizes it was not the plan, is glad that we will be living by each other for a little bit longer. He acknowledged that I with three others have been part of his support system and best friends in life, and that he was thankful for me. He told me he could see and respect growth and change- but that a quiet calm and stillness had returned. That struck me, and I smiled. He took me in for a hug, and I sighed deeply acknowledging in a small infrequent moment that this summer while amazing, has been hard.

In my dream last night I was sitting and discussing an email I wrote before bed in real life. In my dream the recipient of this email sat with me, leaned in close and said, "hurts?"

I said quietly and tearfully that yes it did. They said nothing.

I am beyond thankful for the friends in my life that I can call upon at any hour of the night (though I am respectful about waking them up, and wait typically until morning). I have been pursued with fervor, and I have found joy in the most tender places. This summer I have seen and touched so much in the landscape of my own heart, purpose, and journey: there is so little to question or even think about regretting. How many people can say that?

Yet the Lord has made it clear that unless He is my hiding place, my fortress of truth, love, and purpose that everything else will crumble. I have seen what happens in this lack of focus and I have repented for the ways that I have forgotten to keep Him the priority. I do not feel forgotten, and I do not feel unloved by Him. I have been able to see that my plans are always plans made on shifting sand. And that while my flesh desire earthly things, that my heart wants only what is in Christ's timing and perfect sovereignty.

However. I have also learned that admitting struggle, defeat, and sadness is not a means of failure. In being vulnerable this way with the few chosen I have grown the most to let the hurt out of my body and heart, so that the healing can come.

In my dream I sat with someone I've lost along the way. It felt as real as the sun on my face. It was warm, and it was so familiar. I could almost touch it and swear we were sitting on the edge of the world. I woke up to the process at hand of growing and surrendering it all to Jesus.

I imagined in my recollection, my loving Savior, leaning in close and whispering so softly, "Hurts?"

I said tearfully and quietly it did. Instead of nothing, I heard:

"Let me take that for you."

And the day. Began. Again.

Mother Teresa

Today I was thinking in my car about Mother Teresa. Ok, yes I know that is a completely random person to be thinking about. But seriously, I was and my thoughts ranged. I thought,

1) I don't know a lot about her as a person. Just that I know she did amazing things.

2) I have a quote by her tucked away in my heart about trusting God. I wonder what other quotable things she has said.

3) How old was she when she died? How did she die?

So on this Thursday night (I am also proud to say that I knew it was Thursday most of the day-- its been a really strange and peculiar week). I decided to do what I have become quite good at: googling. (Though I wanted to do this in the car while I was thinking about Mother Teresa, I opted to focus on driving: good choice).

There are some things that I thought were interesting.

1) At the age of 18 she left home to join the Sisters of Loreto as a missionary, and never saw her mother or sister again.

2) She wrote often about her doubt, and lack of faith. To the point that there have been several things written about her using her faith only as a publicity shield.

3) I know so little about Catholicism.

4) She was a dynamic woman. I knew that she did great things for the 'poorest of the poor', but did not know the timeline for her life, or the immense criticism she had received for the quality of care at clinics, and the use of donated charitable funds.

BUT anyway- the dryness of the biography and timeline left the desire for some Mother Teresa wisdom, and so I began researching quotes and anecdotes. Obviously for the span of life she lived and the work she did I could fill several blog entries with them, but the ones below are my absolute favorite.

Enjoy. Let them be a spring board for thought in your life as you contemplate the challenges posed by a woman who with all judgement or skeptism aside- loved people in their most broken and desperate state and lived a life directing others to Christ. We need more people like her. I need to live more like that.

"I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, he will not ask, 'How many good things have you done in your life?' rather he will ask, 'How much love did you put into what you did'?"

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."

"Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies."

"Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."

"Spread the love of God through your life but only use words when necessary."

"Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at His disposition, and listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts."

"God made the world for the delight of human beings-- if we could see His goodness everywhere, His concern for us, His awareness of our needs: the phone call we've waited for, the ride we are offered, the letter in the mail, just the little things He does for us throughout the day. As we remember and notice His love for us, we just begin to fall in love with Him because He is so busy with us -- you just can't resist Him. I believe there's no such thing as luck in life, it's God's love, it's His."

"Love to be real, it must cost—it must hurt—it must empty us of self."

The Compass.

This fall I was reading a friend's blog and she was discussing in vulnerability how in dealing with the terminal illness of her long time beloved friend she was dealing with feelings of loneliness. She quotes another mutual friend in regards to the meaning of Natalie's life:

"My heart is a compass and Natalie is my magnetic north. She steadfastly points in the right direction; she gives bearing when the sky is too dark to see stars. Without her, I feel unmoored; adrift, heartbroken and alone."

I was so connected to this, that I wrote her an email saying that I appreciated her thoughts on the blog and the one above just really resonated with me. Her response was welcomed and in it she says, "I loved that idea of magnetic north; it got me thinking. The actual magnetic north in the western hemisphere is located in the Hudson Bay in northern Canada. Yet for most of the hemisphere, when a compass points north it points right through the Hudson Bay and on to the north pole. I loved that imagery--I think of Christ as my north pole, and Natalie as my magnetic north: when I seek her advice, she steadfastly points me to Christ."

This email conversation continued and I was really moved by the way my friend shared about Natalie. Dealing with cancer again, she opted against Chemo. She wasn't in any pain, and she was just very tired. My friend explains that a post Natalie world would be so incredibly frightening.

The other day I was on Facebook while I was hanging out running errands. I saw on my news feed that Natalie had passed away. Without thinking or hesitating I switched to email and wrote a quick email to my friend. I told her that I was praying for her heart and celebrating a life lived in Grace and Love that impacted hers for 14 years. I also wrote, "The compass rests and she is with Jesus".

I have not been able to get this friend, her loss, or the incredible legacy I have only gotten to hear such a small amount of, out of my head. For two days its all I can think about, and so I have been praying fiercely for peace and comfort.

In December I was pretty friendship-lost with the move of Andrew Piper to the West. I thought often leading up to Christmas how much of our friendship pointed me to Christ. (This could also be because he is over a foot taller then me, that I am always looking up at his face... and also thinking about it- his complete North Face wardrobe... interesting) How lucky I was that I had him in my life and how much I have grown because of him. I decided to give him a brass compass beautifully situated in a wooden box. On the outside the longitude and latitude coordinates of the North Pole were engraved. I wrote a card which explained a little bit about where the idea came from, and I wrapped it up neatly in Christmas paper. He opened it, and in a classic exchange between us, our eyes met and there was silent moment of gratitude.

It's been a dizzying year. It began shooting my first Wedding for Macy and Peder, an early morning 3am New Years phone call, and then a road trip to Florida. Since then I think I've been playing catch up to my heart and I have lost a lot of direction and footing. The 'waiting' was brutal, and in the end what I was waiting for came, and now I sit... and I think... and I process...

And I read the news that a beloved friend has lost their battle with cancer. I pray for the girl she leaves behind who in an email wrote back to mine about her loss "Saturday, as I woke up, I realized I was seeing the very first sunrise in my life that I saw and Natalie didn't. This will all take too much learning"

If there is something tangible that could be offered, purchased, or traded I would gladly take it delicately in my hands, place it in a beautifully fashioned wooden box, wrap it up with a bow and hand it to my grieving friend. Having dealt with loss, and even still processing much of what is learned in the darkness, I know that words comfort less then we would like... but the fact that we are on this journey and we are not alone sometimes speaks more eloquently in the silence of a loved one, and their hand being offered to closely grasp ours then any Hallmark card or conversation could say.

To my friend whom has has lost someone so dear. You are not alone, though you may feel it. Though your grief is like an ocean- it will ebb and flow, your compass I know, still would want nothing more then in her death to direct you in the way of Christ much like her life.

For the past few days I have thought about my friend, Natalie, and my compass. I am thankful that on this night I can pray with sincerity and thanksgiving that the Lord has given me several gifts of friendship and people in my life. I have seen their love this summer in abundance and I am thankful that I can reciprocate so much of their example now that I have settled storms and won some wars.

However, there remains still taller then me by a mile one person in particular. I know that my gift to him this Christmas is still true. I know that even though we have hurt and pushed each other in recent months that because of that relationship and friendship I have been able to experience Christ in an authentic and tender way... we change and we grow and we talk and we laugh. I know in my heart, deeply hidden and protected is a silent understanding- the point. The purpose. The journey. To push each other towards the truth, the love, and the perfect purpose found in Jesus Christ. Sometimes in silence, sometimes at an appointed time to pray, sometimes in phone conversations, and sometimes in speaking hard truths in love.

I am made more thankful for his presence in the wake of someone's loss.

Our lives intersect. Our relationships parallel. Our God loves us and reminds us in the testimonies of others that He is the only way, the only true North. I am thankful for reading a blog entry in December which began this entire dialogue, and I am thankful for knowing the meaning behind a story because I chose to write and connect.

Who is your compass?

Who waits, prays and petitions, and loves you?

Who in hurts, joys, struggles, and triumphs deflects attention from themselves so that you can see the glory and magnitude of Christ?

Do they know it?

China. Chesapeake. (Oregon). The Moon.

"I ask of you to bring me home,
For all the years that I may roam.
You showed me love through all my faults"

Today's Ten

Highlights of today:

1) I got Jessica confirmed and ticketed for Vegas. Heck yeah.

2) I had two great conversations, one with Tex, the other Kerri. It is always refreshing to sit on the phone with someone and talk about life with, and not have to explain a back story. They know you, they know the past, you simply just have to meet them in that place and be vulnerable. Today was a great day for that.

3) I had some returns at Target, so I put on a dress, threw the hair up into a ponytail and off I went for my evening excursion. I held back and did not get an iced coffee. Sleep these days- not possible until after 2am... so we are trying to limit caffeine.

3b) I love that I can feel my ponytail on my back. I don't know when my hair finally got this long, but I have been LOVING it.

3c) Got a straight up random compliment from the checkout person at Target. It was nice, random, and perfectly unexpected. I am glad it didn't turn creepy with him asking for my number. It was so wonderfully refreshing to not want a single thing more from it then someone noticing I looked pretty today.

4) Sent a genuine email that almost surprised me because it was not what I expected to say, think, or feel... but I knew that I meant it and it was true. And I'm glad that they will too.

5) Heard the Tonic song, "Release Me" on XM on the way home. I really like Emerson Hart quite a bit, and the song came out May 2nd (a little googling), and I have since returned home and purchased the album. (You will probably be getting a copy of this album: yes I am talking to you). Also, expect blogs entries about a couple of song in particular. Love me some good song lyrics.

6) I got a card in the mail from my sister Courtney. Highlight of being home again? I am now reachable by mail and have gotten some of the best letters.

7) I smiled today at a stranger. And they completely lit up like Christmas.

8) Gracie came up from behind me while I sat at my desk and sniffed my ear, and quietly placed her head on my shoulder (there is a bed behind my desk chair)... and she just sat with me for a moment. It was tender, and it was absolutely divine.

9) I drove home and saw the above sunset over the mountains. I may have mixed feelings about being in Lexington instead of elsewhere- but in those miraculous gifts in the horizon I know that Jesus loves me, His love is perfect for me and without end. I rest there.

10) I don't have a number ten. But I like well rounded groups and lists.

11) Oh wait. So I left a voicemail today for a friend, and I talk about it being Tuesday, completely not at all sure what day it really is, but fairly certain it was in fact Tuesday. Yeah, so it took me like 4 hours to realize its Monday. To be that free and not know what day of the week could be a sign of lack of schedule/discipline... but to me? This planner/control freak? It shows motions of flight and freedom. I'll take it.

The Rainy Day That Never Came.

Today I had one of those weird moments with Facebook.

I was looking at someone's page, I can't even remember now who it was and to the left I had a mutual friend in common with the person I was stalking. Without thinking I clicked on the picture and then I realized that Suzie Frank, my dear friend is gone.

I had followed Suzie's battle in illness for a couple of years. I remember getting an email forwarded to me through the Ridgefield Emmaus grapevine about a fundraising effort by her daughter Lisa, for the Leukemia Walk in San Francisco. I did not hesitate, I went to the website and donated what I knew I could and that was it. A few days later I got an email from Mike Frank, Suzie's husband/Lisa's dad. My relationship with Mike was a special one in my High School years and we were able to reconnect and sort of catch up the best way you can without sitting in front of each other with a cup of coffee.

My freshman year of High School I was a new Christian in a whole new swimming pool of peers. The Franks were my Sunday School teachers, and were close to my parents as they worked on Emmaus weekends together, and so having them on the same team that Fall meant the Franks were at my house every Wednesday night. I got to chat with them before the meeting, and was invited to sit in on one meeting in particular to hear Mike share his testimony. I was honored, it was a special consideration made per his request.

A few months later Mike took a job traveling extensively for his job. He wrote me postcards. This theme has been woven so beautifully in my life. Suzie and I would talk and meet often, and in her I found an older wise woman in whom I could confide and grow with. When my parents split up I remember feeling shame and embarrassment, I knew it was not my fault or responsibility, but the image of a whole family was a hard one to let go of. I kept to myself about my pain and the circumstances. While I have a few letters from her, I received a letter from Suzie at the most perfect time. It was short and to the point. I cried. I have kept that letter in my stack of prized possessions for 13 years. It speaks the truth. And the truth of which never changes.

The Frank's moved away when I was still in High School and so the relationship faded per consequence of time, but the footprint was still palpable. I thought of them both often, and cherished the memories of conversation, dinner, and the pursuit they both had to make sure that I was ok after my family broke up. In them I found wisdom, and I respected deeply their love for each other. Perhaps that is where my hope to one day marry my best friend began, they... were marvelous.

When I got the message that Suzie had passed away I was deeply saddened but also quite relieved her time of suffering had ended. She was courageous in her battle, and she was... just remarkable. I remember the day well. I was on my way from Indianapolis to Mason, and I was quiet the entire car ride. I remember talking to Tex that night on the phone and I remember saying out loud that I was sad about Suzie passing, but I did not elaborate. I was silent as tears streamed down my cheeks and then I went to sleep. I may not have been close to Suzie in recent years, but the impression and impact she made on my life during those 4 years of chaos has never truly left me. She stepped up to the plate when I needed a mother figure, and she loved me in ways I have yet to experience the same way.

I can't believe that it is now July 19th and I am writing about this for the first time. I think this was one of many things that I swept under the carpet in May hoping to get to those feelings on a rainy day, but the rainy day never came.

I went to her page on Facebook today not even registering that I knew that she had passed away 2 1/2 months ago. I loved being able to read messages of friendship and love left by many people that I knew growing up. One included my Mom appreciating her life, but also thanking her for loving her children. The message struck me, and well that is a whole different story.

The Lord has blessed me with women that have loved and nurtured me for years. Many of them have taken the role of sister, friend, but a select few have come along side me and loved me like their own. I learned young that while we are not able to choose our siblings, and parents- we are given a divine opportunity in Christ to extend what our family tree looks like, and in this case I was one lucky girl to have loved and been loved by such a remarkable woman.

I have her letters. And I know that the contents of which are still true. I'm thankful that today, in this moment I can read them and be thankful for the growth over time, but also for the roots and seeds she planted all those years ago that I am now returning back too. The journey continues, I am on the road. It's been an intense summer, the rainy day never came but today I was able to click a face and visit a friend... and I remembered and in her memory I found joy. But also... peace.