we've moved

Desiring a place where both this and the postcard blog can live together in harmony...

We've moved to Wordpress.

Check out our new home here:

http://allroadsleadbackto.wordpress.com/

Three.

In an effort to write more regularly, and the sadness but yet peacefulness that I do not have time to keep up with postcards right now... a list of current favorite things.

1) Weather. My goodness gracious. I had a conversation with a friend once about weather in the winter, how it just does something to my mood, perspective... agh I just hate it. We've been fortunate to have the most wonderfully warm spring weather- allowing for skirts and dresses, cardi's, and shorts with long sleeve tshirts for errands. I love it.

I feel more alive in Spring. I know, I know... cheesy because the earth is waking up and putting on its best show... but seriously. The color on my face, the color in my wardrobe, the reminder that God makes all things new... I just love it. Now. I will be complaining in a mere few weeks that its too hot.

2) A Break Is Coming.

I have with the wisdom and push of Danielle whom I love love love love so much to take a week off. It's planned right now for the end of April. Krystal's birthday is the 22nd and that will begin my time away. I'm trying to get creative about what to do for her day, and get a feel for expectations. One never wants to disappoint the birthday girl! On Monday following I will be grabbing my underused best friend, the Canon and going for a road trip of sorts. To the Ocean. I plan to drive along the East Coast and check out places I've always wanted too. The time is meant to be reflective, restorative, and quiet. I'm thankful for the plentiful PTO time I have a year to make this break possible without removing the opportunity of summer trips, and fall getaways. I will return the following weekend to a Dave Barnes concert in Charlotte, and head back to work May 1. Wait. Have you picked up on how excited I am. WAY excited.

3) Visitors.

Moving to Winston-Salem and enjoying newness is always more fun when "oldness?" (that doesn't sound right), how about Old Friends. Yes... come to visit. This year I've had an oldie/newish friend Seth kick off the New Year on his sabbatical from Mercy Ships- it was so cold, but so fun! At the end of February I had Emily come visit for a long weekend to enjoy time away from mommy hood and sister time. Loved it. On Friday this week, Kerri Fowler Tank is coming to visit. I haven't seen her in AGES... like 2 years I think which is ridiculously too long and much too sad to comprehend. I pick her up in Charlotte and the festivities will begin. Target and Old Navy are always on the list. As is delicious tasty Mexican (taking her to my fave: Don Juan)... she will rub shoulders with my Winston Besties at an egg coloring party Friday night, and just enjoy time catching up and slowing down with each other. I'm grateful for the efforts of friends to come to me... its a welcomed shift as I was able to for a long time be the one to travel TO. Hosting is fun. Way. Fun.

4). So yes. The Weather.

The Vacation.

The Visitors.

Life. Is. Marvelous.

five things.

Of things worth noting... these are just a few things that come to mind.

1) When I was in the Bakery on Summer Staff in 2003, after a couple of times making "dirt" for what felt like thousands... I swore that I'd never make it again. Never. It was disgusting. The magic is gone when you know how its assembled. Fast forward to 2012. Brinkley and I were brainstorming a party to throw at work on Saturday. It's around Spring. I said I'd make "dirt".

This evening I got back from my hair cut, and I started making the pieces of the dirt puzzle. I could not believe for the life of me that I was making it.

A few things stood out:

a) making 2 pots of the dessert is WAY easier then 60,000 (not literally. but it was a lot).

b) I loved my Summer Staff experience. I met some amazing people. And while Jules, Matty, and Jess continue to be prized and beloved people in my life... there were others that made such a tangible impact on my life. The way I viewed community, Christ, and my role in a group of people radically changed that session. I'm thankful for the long lasting and what will be eternal effects of a time well spent. While working at camp I always felt so close and connected to what that experience looked like. It was never far. Not really. This summer it will be 9 years since I set foot in the bakery. It feels far. The context and content of my relationships with three beloved friends continues to evolve, change, grow, and morph into the present.

Yet. Today.

I remembered and reflected how it was one month of service that began it all.

So. Dirt. Was a great experience.

2) I got my haircut today. Not really anything. Just a few layers trimmed in the front. But I got my "summer" highlights done. It's amazing how different you can feel after 2 hours in a chair being done up. Mckenzie is my favorite colorist I've met to date. I trust her implicitly. I like that she can pick up on my tones of "I want change" but knows better then to challenge my desire to cut 12 inches off, just yet. I like her. She's really started to open up and become chatty. It's a good thing.

3) It's summer weather here. The air conditioning went on the other day. It hurt my heart. I turned it off just as quick.

4) Kim and I are going to the Hunger Games tomorrow night. I can't freaking wait.

5) Truthfully. Life is good. There are of course challenges, and highs and lows (sometimes even within the same day). But I feel quietly content and purposely challenged in each day. I've been dealing with some mild frustrations regarding sugar, and my internal roller coaster. There are days when I know that my light is not quite as bright, and that I'm more quiet then usual. Sometimes I struggle with the sound of my voice in my head, and pray that it passes quickly and with little damage. I remember talking to my brother last year about this time about the challenges of sugar, medicine, and such. It was the first time I can ever recall having allowed the emotional burden and exhaustion be heard. Said out loud that its hard. That its a struggle. A difficult one. He encouraged me in the way that I most depend, and yet am always surprised by. That life would continue to move along, and that I'm strong- independent, smart, and more than capable with my faith to tackle this and tackle it well. I feel as though I'm in a similar valley, and pocket of exasperation. I can hear him in my head. I can hear him helping me move along. The past couple of days have been better. But altogether, there's been a lot of emotional stress in the past two months and the priority of my health has not been in its top position. Pulling it together. We're getting there. And because of the Grace and Patience that I have been learning with and for myself... its there- that life is good.

(shout it out.)

If you don't know or are not yet a fan of the duo All Sons and Daughters.

You need to check them out.

We've been singing some of their stuff in church recently, and seriously love love love them.

Artsy.

Indie.

Folkie.

Delicatie (ok I just couldn't figure out another word to keep in line with the 'ie' trend).

A particular favorite is "All the Poor and Powerless". The bridge breaks it down into the most simple action,

Shout it.

Go on and scream it from the mountains.

Go on and tell it to the masses.

That He is God.

So simple right? Shout it out. Scream it from the mountains.

I have been involved in ministry as my full time job, and I have some beloved friends that are partnered internationally with purposes for Christ, some locally in their high schools, and others in places of worship on Sunday's. They are gifted at what they do.

With the thoughts of the future laying before me, and the transitional shifts taking place in what I would hope and dream for the years to come... I have often thought about how sometimes we miss the most simple, direct, and meaningful way to approach ministry. To change our environments at work, to change our churches, our friendships, our families. We get cozy and we get apathetic. I have noticed this to have been most true in my own life when I was on staff at camp, and sometimes still recognize it in beloved friends involved in ministry of the same nature for an extended amount of time. What is potentially hazardous in that place, is that we also get...

Comfortable. I'm not sure we even know when this happens. And sometimes when we are comfortable, we justify, explain, and excuse our behaviors. Our actions became motions that get us to the next place, position, goal, or desire.

Last year in the wake of some growing and stretching I felt convicted that love is a choice. And that everything that comes with that is a choice- to respond to a calling, to pursue with intention, to love much, well, and often. I began to understand how if I am to choose love when my sinful heart and selfish desires beg of me to pursue something different... that means when I actually commit actions of non-love... that too is a choice.

There has been great healing and growth in some dark and twisted areas of my heart over the past three years. Its been a longwinded but wonderfully purposed journey. I know that I am in the strongest, most honest, transparent, and porous time of my life. I am being grown, stretched, pushed and pulled by the people I work with in humbling ways, but mostly from a body of people I call my community here in Winston-Salem. Outside of these friends and times I've been asked recently where I've been. I've not visited anyone for the weekend, taken time off and away. Well. That time is approaching- as I plan and think about a small little spring break vacation at the end of April. To rest. To restore. To be before an ocean or even Mickey Mouse. To stand before myself. To reflect. To be grateful. But outside out of that time that is being purposed right now, I have no desire to go anywhere.

My life. Is here.

My heart is here.

Both in the same place.

Friends.

When was the last time I was truly able to say that?

Last Monday night Jules called. It's been awhile since we've caught up on the phone. And yet because I know that she prays, and reminds me that she is thinking of me in messages or texts, her love and friendship is never far. Jules is special. It's not that I am particularly different, or changed. But a more authentic, vulnerable, and painfully honest version of me emerges because she... is a safe place.

And has been for.

A.

Really.

Long.

Time.

I have spent the week pondering some noted and difficult things and spaces she's challenged me. But also in the encouragement to seek God's heart, and plan while determining the footing. I am thankful for the message of hope and of love.

Yet. I am most thankful.

For the spirit of celebration as she and Seth continue to be sensitive to God's calling for their lives and ministry and stepping forth in that Faith.

For the celebration that a long battled time of waiting, hurting, at times excitement and joy--all led me here. To this space and place.

She is a warrior. For God and with me.

When I get off the phone with her I am always sharpened for the adventure at hand, and I always want to pick up out of my comfortable and cozy place to be USED. To be different. To be BOLD. To spread out my arms and heart...

I want to shout it.

I want to scream it from the mountains.

I want to go on and tell the masses.

That He is God.

Thankful for a such a friend that can inspire that, and so consistently over the past 8.5 (sigh) years.

Lots of thinking going on here.

Lots of growing.

And a girl continuing to fall madly in love with her Savior, this season, time and space... and this new supporting cast of relationships. Love them. Lots.

emily & change

I went back to work yesterday after a very beloved and LONG period of time off, and a visit from Emily- whom has been my most treasured and active friend in some very intense seasons of life. She and I go back before Virginia, before Winston-Salem, before time traveling abroad, and before a broken heart. She's been through some tough things with me, and has pushed me so hard and so much towards the Lord. I am learning as I get older, what a rare gift it is to find girlfriends in life that go to war with and for you, and that are there to celebrate too. I have several special girls in my life, but Emily is different. She's in a class all her own. Which reminds me of friends like Jules, Sandy, Kerri, and Barb. Women that speak to me in truth, and allow me the opportunity to see within myself the shifts and maturities progress as I learn more about who God is, and who I am to God. It's amazing to share life with them.

In other news. There is a major shift about to happen in my place of employment. One that has placed a question on the table that has me searching through prayer, time quiet, and seeking the wisdom of people who love me and know me well. Matty and Seth without being on the same continent had very similar statements made, and I'm thankful for a consistency between them. I spent the weekend really sorting through what the implications of changing my mind would mean. I have been able to flesh out my thoughts and talk through what the different options could be, and I have felt loved and safe to change my mind five thousand times in one sentence.

I have talked about living Internationally for years. Literally forever. If I were to move, say, Turkey- no one in my life would be the least bit surprised. Especially in light of my career advancing, and progressing into something truly wonderful in its inclusion of all things that I love.

However. I love. Love. Capitol L love my life in North Carolina. I am digging in, deeper and with more meaning each week- and I'm home here. If I leave for a year, I would be opting out of that, but then also I know that Home is HERE. It's not anywhere else. I'm grateful for that, but my head starts to spin with the realm of possibility and tenderness in my heart as I sense...

That my dreams are changing.

I'm changing.

What a marvelous thing to feel happening, and yet the tailspin of which is scary, foreign, and somewhat uncertain.

Thankful however that things are becoming much more transparent and clear in prayer, and the pursuit of people who are willing to speak truth to me- and love me consistently and without ceasing. Emily's visit was perfect. The contrast between her friendship and others sometimes gets lost in the distance, but when I'm able to look across the table at her, I'm inspired by the women we've been, the places we've lived together, and now apart- and who through it all I know there's not a thing she would do on my behalf in the name of sisterhood and love.

I leaned in close. To not miss it. To listen. To be. Still. With her. It was fantastic.

Then experienced a final day off to run errands on my own, pal around with Gracie, and to prep for my contribution to the pot luck dinner in a place I love so much, and so dearly.

Work began yesterday, and I was thankful to feel truly rested. And begin planning for the next few weeks projects at work, and keep going. Into and for something that I have truly enjoyed.

Last night I sat with a group of people, who for the most part I do not know well. I got to talk to new friends, and connect with friends that I am truly pumped about having in my life in more intentional and deep ways.

I came home and slept.

Dreamed of a place where the two options that lay before me at work were able to merge into one.

I woke up not remembering how it was accomplished, but just that it was.

And continued to un peel the layers to the day, while winding up for a task at hand that begins at 1:30pm.

I don't know yet now what is to come.

But I'm way excited to meet her, as I've gotten glimpses of this changing person with changing dreams- all the while laughing, loving life. right now.

rest and complaint

I've been sort of a roller coaster recently. I know that its true because the first statement and place to look is, "kari, how is the quality of your rest?" Last week I had a dream, a bizarre and twisted dream in which my teeth started falling out. Mind you, I worked real hard for these straight precious gems and the idea of losing them while awake: terrifies me. Dreams about teeth has long said to be rooted in a lack in control, I didn't think much more of it. Then I was talking about it and thought well lets see what the Psychology journals say about this topic. Ok. I scanned through the meanings and interpretations, and finally on the last paragraph a spiritual consideration was written:

A scriptural interpretation for bad or falling teeth indicates that you are putting your faith, trust, and beliefs in what man thinks, rather than in the word of God.

Alright. That explanation and take was actually a wee bit closer to home. Well. It was all the way home, with the car parked in the garage.

How often do we do this? Seek the "counsel" of our peers, friends, community, and family for their input, opinions, and most of the time justification to feel a certain way, think a certain thing, react into a particular venue, or just console what we are struggling with.

In the most recent weeks I've been trying to relax and rest into life post Holiday. I think the one thing that I have struggled most in adapting is the knowledge and the value in what REST actually looks like. Instead of late nights at work, or early morning scrambling myself together, on a cycle that just wouldn't end... I am now well past the end. Its been 2 months since Christmas Day. How have I applied what I learned during that time, to this one?

Pace is a word used often at work. We talk about adjusting our pace to the flow of traffic, task, day, and season. Speed is what I remember being told to slow down my entire childhood. Either because of my chronic ankle sprains ("Kari, slow the hell down" --stan the man). Or because I was socially, way socially over stimulated. Never could quite sit still or be quiet.

Best thing learned while traveling solo?

Being still and quiet is ok. I don't always need to be "doing".

I adapted and truly began to understand, trust, and know the sound of God's voice (and my own) in the silence.

Yet. Now. I am here in this still somewhat new and unfamiliar place, and I've been flailing a little bit. I have been sensitive about things that I would never normally be. I've been quiet in moments that I would typically be expressing the root of tenderness. And yet, I've complained about situations, people, and circumstances instead of just being quiet. And still before Christ.

(the sermon Series at church right now may feel like it shines a spot light over my head each Sunday. Talking a lot about complaining. Yeah...).

Who am I trying to appease and justify?

What am I trying to establish?

Where am I trying to go? The future? The past?

When I complain what am I hoping to accomplish?

Why do I spend more time at lunch dates filling conversation up with complaint, then I do praying?

I seek the voices and faces of others because I think they matter more. My sin and self righteous behavior tells me that their thoughts and take are the most important.

I am trying to establish that I am right, or been wronged, am blameless.

Where I am going, is never forward. Its usually a tailspin backwards.

I am hoping to prove, and petition my point of view.

I do it, because I perceive that my voice will keep me in control.

Instead of letting it speak to God, and having Him unravel me, so that I can be shaped more in His sight, vision, and purpose.

Truth is.

Life is pretty sweet right now.

I love love Winston-Salem. In spite of being talked to about International opportunities this summer, I am truly happy and peaceful here.

I love love love love my church. I am growing and being stretched in the most perfect and difficult ways.

I am formulating true, real, deep friendships here. People that I have been cared for and loved much by. There have been some priceless Sunday afternoon's off in recent weeks, that I wouldn't trade for any day "doing" anything.

All of those things are more then enough.

They are more then any petition in prayer I've raised.

Yet.

Small. Insignificant details.

Larger pressures and ambiguity.

Are stealing my rest, and my joy.

And robbing the hope I feel in and for Christ to bloom and flourish.

A dream about losing my teeth was the first indicator.

Thankful for it.

But am totally overwhelmed.

And that I suppose. Is ok. If I'm talking to the right person, and not complaining to everyone else.

need to.

I need to write.

Sometimes as much as I need to eat. Breathe. Sleep. And Laugh.

Yet. I can function without it. I can make it through each day without taking the time to reflect or think in a way that forces me to use my big girl words.

I have rearranged some places in my house that got shuffled with Krystal's arrival. Tucked away in hidden corners were remnants of history and love. Life. People known and places seen. All scribbled away on perfectly smooth ivory pages, leather bound in my journals of choice: the moleskine.

Inside those books are memories. Heart cries. People. Tears. Grievances. Hope. Prayers. Pleads. Petitions. Celebrations. And so much of my heart, that I think you can feel it beat with the journal resting in your hands.

This blog has in the past served as a simple way to remain connected to home when I traveled. It fulfilled its purpose consistently. However, I remember a few weeks after it began how much it became a reflection of myself, to myself. That it became a way for me to be connected to me, when I traveled. When I was home. Regardless of where I was and what I was doing.

Sometimes its just hard for me to write on this blog. To focus long enough to sum up and collect the words and thoughts to place as a marker for this time, space, life, and thought. I also am saddened by my inability to use my hands, my favorite pen, and write it down in the moleskine. The newest one. That just waits. Each Sunday I use it for my sermon notes, and I think to myself that I need to write more. Say more of what matters. Even if for just one part of my day I'm able to put together my thoughts regarding that day. What I prayed for. Thought about, wondered, or struggled through.

I have the postcard blog that perfectly documents last year. Its a project I have so tremendously loved and enjoyed through and through. This blog has been a witness in varying degrees of commitment to my journey, story, and I pray- testimony to Christ.

I need to write. I need to write more. I need to find the time, somewhere, carved out to be real and honest. And to tell the story.

What story?

The one that shares the work that the Lord is doing in my life.

My heart.

That I am not the same today as I was yesterday as I run hard and chase after that which will sanctify and restore my life, heart, and relationships.

Writing allows me to reflect and pontificate on all things in which draw me internally, too deep into my head, and help pull me out of that somewhat silent place into a more transparent and vulnerable space.

Just some thoughts.

Why is it sometimes so hard to do what we know we so deeply need?