wholehearted

Looking Back on 2014: My Word of the Year

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Fri, 02 Jan 2015 08:32:00 +0000

At the end of 2013-- one of my hardest years yet-- I decided to jump onto the year-naming bandwagon for 2014. It felt cheesy. Motivational speaker-y. It felt like one of those wannabe inspirational posters that show some imposing mountain peak or an eagle soaring above a single word in all caps: EXCELLENCE. DEDICATION. DISCIPLINE.

It also felt a bit presumptive. Other than God, who knew what 2014 would bring my way?

Despite the iffiness, I felt compelled to step into the new year with something. I knew I wouldn't be setting any goals besides survive.the.day, so choosing a word felt like I was doing something-- like my feeble soul was stretching, leaning, grasping at a thread of normalcy and intention for the first time in many months.

I selected the word "hope." I've always liked that word. It's short and simple--just one syllable. But its meaning points to something vast, full, and ripe.

I took that tiny seed of a word and slipped it in my pocket. Hope.

Throughout the year, I didn't do anything particularly hope-themed. I didn't read books about hope or seek out specific bible passages. It was a just a tiny seed in my pocket, a recurring thought in the back of my mind. And sometimes on a hard day I would repeat that word again and again like rolling a seed in my hand. A prayer encapsulated in one small syllable. Hope. Hope. Hope.

It echoed in my heart through many busy months as I focused on healing, as I dove into community with my various groups at church, and as I scuttled through life corralling two spirited kids while always, always running late.

And just as the year was winding down in the Fall, my church began a sermon series about heaven. That's when this hope thing really came together for me.

In 2014, I began to befriend, crave, and ache for hope.

I began clinging to God's promises for the now and the someday-- his presence, heaven, redemption, beauty from ashes-- as if that tiny hope seed was my lifeboat in a churning sea.

I already have another word for 2015, but I'm keeping "hope" in my pocket too.

Have yourself a messy little Christmas....

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Tue, 23 Dec 2014 22:50:00 +0000

So it's official: I'm a sporadic blogger! But in this season of life, I'll take sporadic over never. (This happens to be my present philosophy on showering too.)

Here's a little Advent message that I shared at my local MOPS group a few weeks ago. I've added one more point to the end, because it just seemed right!

The other day I was scrolling through Facebook and noticed the following status update from one of my favorite authors, Jen Hatmaker:

Jen's status made me chuckle, and it reminded me that Christmas can be a bit of a mixed bag.

There are annoying, over-the-top commercials.

Every trip to Costco from Halloween to Christmas Eve is a nightmare because your child will cry pathetic, snot-mixed tears as she begs for a 6-foot plush Elsa doll.

But Christmas can be a mixed bag on an even deeper level.

While it's a season of rich spiritual truths and wonderful memory-making opportunities, Christmas can be a time of incredible pressure. There's pressure to decorate, craft, spend time with family, buy things, cook things, clean your house, host guests, attend parties and events. And if you’ve had a difficult year or have a broken family? Christmas can be downright painful.

Christmas is a mixed bag because life is a mixed bag.

So I've been thinking: What does it look like to celebrate Christmas bravely, simply, and intentionally, right in the midst of life’s mixed-bag messiness? I came up with ~~four~~ five ideas that I’d like to share with you (and I’m preaching these ideas to myself more than anyone!):

Reject the idea that you must do it all. Before things get too hectic, sit down and think about what you can realistically-- and peacefully-- accomplish during this season. This excerpt from Shauna Niequist’s book Bittersweet sums it up perfectly:

"If what it takes for you this year to be present in this sacred, thin place, to feel the breath and presence of a Holy God, is to forgo the cookies and the cards and the rushing and the lists, then we’ll be all right with cookies from the store and a few less gifts. It would be a great loss for you to miss this season, the soul of it, because you’re too busy pushing and rushing. And it would be a great loss if the people in your life receive your perfectly wrapped gifts, but not your love or your full attention or your spirit. "

Read a brief bible passage or devotional to your family each night during Advent. Don’t obsess over what devotional or book to use (like I tend to do). Just pick one! Here’s a tip: if you think your child can handle it, light a candle before you read. I guarantee, this will be a BIG DEAL. Your child suddenly will suddenly think family Advent reading shot up 10 special notches. And you'll think to yourself, "I didn't glue anything, DIY anything, or event consult Pinterest! (Suckas!)" Easy, right?

Do at least one crazy, extravagant act of love or service with your family. Go to a laundromat and tape quarters to the washing machines. Walk down State Street and pass out cash or gift cards. Eat a restaurant and pay someone else’s bill. There are countless ways to love bravely at Christmas! Show your children (and at the same time remind your own heart) that there's great joy in giving and in modeling God's unthinkably lavish grace!

Open your heart to the unique season of Advent by spending just 5 to 10 minutes each day reflecting on an Advent bible passage. Sisters, if you have been going through a difficult time or if you don’t feel particularly joyful this year, then Advent is ESPECIALLY for you. Lean into the hope. The waiting. I want to share one more excerpt from Shauna:
"Advent is the question, the pleading, and Christmas is the answer to that question, the response to the howl. There are moments in this season when I don't feel a lot like Christmas, but I do feel like Advent. Advent gives us another option beyond false Christmas cheer or Scrooge. Advent says the baby is coming, but he isn't here yet, that hope is on its way, but the yearning is still very real. Sometimes, depending on what we've lost this year, Advent is what saves us from giving up on Christmas and all its buoyant twinkling-light hope forever. Advent allows us to tell the truth about what we're grieving without giving up on the gorgeous and extravagant promise: the baby is on his way."
*** And, here comes the new part!***
If few--or even none--of the above things happen... it's okay. Perhaps you're like me and spent a surprisingly large portion of Advent wiping runny noses, stroking hot foreheads, and watching endless episodes of Gilmore Girls while coughing and shivering on your couch. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, it's okay. The meaning of Christmas is not something we construct or chase. It's not something that arrives only if we create the perfect ambiance. Christmas has meaning apart from any of our actions. It has meaning because God broke into humanity and became one of us, to rescue us. The items listed above? They help open us to the meaning (and that's why they're useful), but they aren't the meaning. So cast off the guilt. Allow your Christmas to be imperfect. Simply tell God, "I'm here. My heart is open." And then? Do what comes naturally. Kneel. Praise. Long. Wait. Ache. Knock. Ask. Adore.

Merry Christmas, friends!

Links fit for a Sunday scroll!

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Sun, 20 Jul 2014 07:18:00 +0000

It's sweet to be posting again after several weeks of doing the summer thing (yay!) and recovering from another recent health obstacle (boo!). I now only tolerate three foods: organic baby carrots harvested under a full moon, lettuce washed with unicorn tears, and kale. (It sure feels that way sometimes!)

Healing, I've found, is not at all linear. It's this: feel great, stall for 3 weeks, regress, face a completely new issue, change your diet again, improve, stall, improve, stall. Sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere, but when turn around and see how far I've come, I'm amazed-- and grateful!

Whenever I feel the desire to write, I know I'm beginning to feel like myself again. So here I am-- wading back in! Today, I thought I'd share some good recent Internet reads:

So, so good. This is one I won't forget. "They accepted the offer! Isn’t God good? Mike got a raise! Isn’t God good? The doctor called and the tests came back negative! Isn’t God good? But what then are we to do with the rest of life?"

The funniest version I've seen!

I've been following the Style for Justice trip, a collaboration between Noonday Collection and International Justice Mission. I love Noonday founder Jessica Honnegar's words here. "There is no perfect answer when it comes to doing justice. God does not require a bleeding heart or a passionate calling. We can go scared. We can start small. We can move reluctantly, because God will capture our hearts with or without our permission." More Style for Justice here.

This series is FASCINATING!

Reasonably priced premium denim that you can try on at home for free! Trying this the next time I need jeans!

Model/actress Amber Valetta shares her personal battle with addiction. Insightful and brave. "Why can't I wear a ribbon? A badge of honor that shows I'm sober, that I'm in recovery today."

7 Things Tuscany Taught Me "When in Tuscany you will find yourself awed by how thingy a thing is. In other words, a tomato tastes more like a tomato than any tomato you’ve ever eaten."

Love this idea. "What has saved me this year has been opening this folder every morning to read and reread its contents. I set aside 20 minutes each day and let these familiar words pour over me. The same words from the same people, over and over. This repetition, this act of obedience, has become the foundation of my day. And, miraculously, it has brought peace."

Beautiful.

A very honest look at what healing looks like in autoimmune disease.

Sad I missed this tee bearing one of my favorite messages... "Love conquers all."

<3 Kelly

Eat the Fat

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Fri, 13 Jun 2014 05:12:00 +0000

The cover story for this week's issue of Time magazine makes me smile. It's called "Eat Butter--new science shows fat isn't what's hurting our health." (Here's a great free video summary of the article for non-subscribers.) Seeing this information featured in a prominent publication is exciting, because I'm passionate about eating a whole foods diet that is rich in healthy fats. But it wasn't always this way.

I grew up accepting the popular belief that I should be eating a low-fat, calorie-restricted diet. And I was hungry. All. the. time.

I especially remember feeling hungry in college. I think it stands out in my memory because college was a unique season. My adult self-awareness was developing, I was making my own food choices for the first time, and I had just enough fun money from my part-time job to eat out regularly with friends.

When I ate at restaurants (which was often), I secretly hoped my companions wanted to order appetizers and dessert too--giving me permission to do the same. I also remember furiously snacking on low-calorie protein bars and Trader Joe's pita crackers between classes. Not surprisingly, I felt terrible and gained a significant amount of weight.

Over time I concluded that my eating problem was a "heart issue," and I grew to believe that I was undisciplined and possibly an emotional eater.

As it turns out, I simply was hungry! Now that I eat real foods and plenty of fat, I feel satisfied and steady throughout my days. I eat as much as I want during each meal, and I only feel the need to snack occasionally.

Eating the fat, I've come to realize, is a great metaphor for self care. My body craves nutrient-dense fats, and my mind and spirit require quality nourishment too.

When I don't take the time to feed my soul with things that I truly enjoy, I find that I'm much more prone to binging on "life junk food": mindless scrolling through Facebook, clicking on bait headlines, online window shopping for items I don't need, and more. These activities are stimulating but empty. They add no value to my life and leave me unsatisfied.

Reading good books, writing, dabbling in little art projects, talking with my husband or a friend, spending time outdoors-- these are the things that fill me. Carving out times for these activities, even in the margins of my busy mom life, makes a huge difference in my mood, life outlook, and capacity for self-control.

And then there's God, of course! In Psalm 63, David overflows with praise for God, saying "My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food" (ESV). I love that! And The Message's approximation makes me chuckle: "I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy; I smack my lips."

So, what about you? Do you struggle with "life junk food," or is it just me? What activities are nourishing to you?

Jesus in The Laundry Pile

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Wed, 11 Jun 2014 06:38:00 +0000

"Your life right now-- not the life you wish you had-- is the only place where Jesus can meet you." My spiritual director used to say this, and I need to think about it often. Maybe every day.

The way I live sometimes? It's as if I think Jesus suddenly took up residence in an Instagram shot of someone else's styled and sunlight-bathed life. It's as if I think he's right there with an open MacBook, a perfectly swirled latte, and some sort of potted succulent (right, Becca?).

But Jesus will not meet me there. Why would he?

Jesus is already here. He is standing in the ankle-deep laundry pile on my living room floor. A few hours ago, he was upstairs with me as my sweaty preschooler sobbed, screamed, and kicked the wall. He will be with me tomorrow morning when I make banana pancakes and slather them with peanut butter, and in the afternoon as I sit on a park bench and watch two little people scoot around the playground.

Jesus is here, and every moment I waste longing for someone else's life is a moment I overlook his real presence in my life.

Father's Day Gifts for Good

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Fri, 06 Jun 2014 22:07:00 +0000

Father's Day is just around the corner, and while I probably won't be purchasing a gift for Louis (we usually have a celebratory lunch instead), I have noticed a few standout ethical gifts that are worth sharing:

1. UTL-C Personal Solar Charger and Light from Unite to Light-- $60.00

This gift is my favorite on the list! Louis and I learned about Unite to Light a few months ago at our city's Earth Day Festival, and our brief conversation with their representative sent Louis into a state of techie, do-gooder giddiness. A local-to-us nonprofit, Unite to Light manufactures portable solar-powered units, each fitted with an adjustable lamp and a USB port to charge small devices (a lamp-only version is available too). For each UTL-C purchased, a unit is distributed in an area of the world where electricity is unavailable. You can read more about Unite to Light's impact here. As you may have guessed, we bought a UTL-C on the spot (I suppose we could call it an early Father's Day present?) and added it to our earthquake preparedness kit. Does your husband, dad, or honorary dad love gadgets or preparedness gear? If so, consider this fantastically practical-- and meaningful-- gift!

2. Kalkidan leather wallet from FashionABLE-- on sale for $21.00!

When I started dating Louis, I noticed that he was using duct tape to hold his wallet together (a very Louis thing to do). I let it slide initially, but shortly after we got married I made the "gentle suggestion" that we buy him a new wallet. Wives are good at gentle suggestions, such as "Wow, it's been awhile since you've had a haircut! Wanna sneak away to Supercuts this afternoon?" and "Hmm... Do you think it might be time to trim your beard?" Anyway, had we not purchased that wallet (which I'm proud to report is duct tape free and intact), I'd consider purchasing one of these handsome leather ones from FashionABLE. It is handmade by a women's cooperative in Ethiopia, and each purchase helps these women and their families sustainably rise from poverty. A side note: FashionABLE also makes the BEST scarves! They are soft, vibrantly-colored, and a staple in my wardrobe! Right now, I'm drooling over this one!

3. One World Futbol from the One World Futbol Project-- $39.50
A soccer ball might seem like a boring gift, but this ball is special. First, it never goes flat or needs a pump-- even when punctured. Second, for each ball purchased, One World Futbol Project donates a ball to an organization working with youth in a disadvantaged community (such as a refugee camp). You can learn more about the One World Futbol Project here, and the balls also can be purchased in the TOMS Marketplace.

Happy Father's Day!

On Christian Dreaming

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Wed, 04 Jun 2014 04:54:00 +0000

Over the past year or so the Christian blogosphere, and perhaps even the bookosphere, seems to have exploded with content about the topic of dreams and goals. I seem to stumble across some form of this content at least once a week-- whether it's a podcast, a book, or an upcoming conference.

Within this dream-centered material, there are many great and valuable exhortations: Don't be controlled by fear. Step out of your comfort zone. Be organized, wise, and disciplined.

It often fills me up to read these things, and I'm delighted to see so many Christians encouraging others from their various platforms. The world needs more people dreaming kingdom dreams!

But, as much as I affirm and appreciate this very well-intentioned content, part of me wonders if all of this unqualified dream talk is in danger of sending an imbalanced message.

You see, the past few years of my life have been a wake-up call in the dream department. Those wild and optimistic dreams that sprung up in my twenties gradually disappeared as I entered my thirties-- submerged by the rising demands of motherhood, living with a chronic illness, dishes, dirty laundry, and my own brokenness.

And so I began to pray, and wrestle, and ask questions.

Does God give us our dreams?

If God gives us our dreams, what does it mean when a person is completely unable to move toward a dream?

Does God ask people to give up their dreams?

Who am I to care about my silly little dreams when other people in the world simply dream of reliable income, or food, or equality?

These questions swirled in my mind for months. Meanwhile, I continued to read blog posts and e-books, hoping that someone would confront the tensions I observed. So many trusted Christian bloggers, authors, and leaders were encouraging me to dream audacious dreams. And yet, I could not ignore reality: Sometimes, dreams do not come true-- no matter how much they have been showered in prayer or pursued with wise planning. Sometimes illness strikes. Sometimes college students are shot on normal Friday nights, and precious girls are kidnapped from school. Sometimes tornadoes hit. And depression rolls in. And schedules become too full. And times of rest become too few.

Eventually, I became convinced that the bloggers, authors, and speakers must have it wrong. And so I flung my dreams into oblivion and walked away.

But something happened over the weeks that followed. I found that the naive, grandiose shells of my dreams began to rot away-- but their cores remained. I was still passionate about the same fundamental things, and my heart was still searching for opportunities to live them out.

And then it began to make sense. God does want me to dream, but He wants me to dream with open hands. When I am tempted to cling to expectations, God wants me to leave my dreams fully exposed to the shaping winds of the Holy Spirit.

When I demand that my dreams arise in the vacuum of perfection, God wants my dreams to spring from the midst of life's messy tensions.

When I become obsessed with avoiding disappointment, God invites me to enter into my pain and follow Him towards redemption or a new way.

When I want to use my dreams to define myself and earn accolades, God reminds me that I am his beloved daughter.

When I want to dream for God, He wants to dream with me.

This world is broken, and there's no guarantee that any of my dreams will come true. I'm tempted to protect myself and cast my dreams aside, but God dares me to live them out. He welcomes me into freedom from the fear of failure, because unfulfilled dreams-- though painful-- are not the worst thing that can happen to me. He reminds me that whatever is done in love, whatever is done in Christ, is done well.

So, this is the humble footnote I would hope to add to the blog posts, books, speeches, and podcasts about Christian dreaming: Dream! Yes, dream! But dream with God--and keep your hands open.

What are you dreaming about, friends? Where are you struggling to keep your hands open?

The print that is asking for a home on my walls.

Geocaching with Small Children: What I Learned During Our First Adventure

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Tue, 20 May 2014 04:47:00 +0000

Have you ever heard of geocaching? I first learned about it on Kristen Howerton's blog and have wanted to try it ever since! Saturday was my birthday, so I thought a little geocaching adventure would be a fun, out-of-the-ordinary activity for my family.

The outing wasn't without a few glitches and bumps, but overall it was an enjoyable and educational experience. Here are some things I learned about geocaching--and, specifically, geocaching with small children-- during my family's first adventure. For reference, my children are ages 4 and (almost) 2.

1. Download the app and choose an easy cache for your first find. If you peruse the app or the website, you'll see that each cache has a difficulty rating. Pay attention to that! For unknown reasons, I did not. Fortunately, our first find was super easy and my kids were hooked! I think starting off with an easy cache whet their appetites for the geocaching process. Had we chosen a more difficult cache, I don't think the kids would have been quite as excited to continue our search.

2. Bring small items for trade. Many caches contain tradeables, and geocaching etiquette requires leaving an item of equal or lesser value for each item taken. I knew our kids would LOVE the tradeables element, so Louis and I packed a ziploc with random items from around the house. At first, I wondered if our items would be good enough to trade (a magnet, an old carabiner, a seashell), and I even considered stopping at a dollar store to purchase some cooler trades. But our first find made it clear that the cache-hunting process-- not the tradeables themselves-- bring the true excitement. My daughter, for example, still hasn't stopped talking about the red button she chose from our first cache! So don't stress about tradeables. A sticker, an interesting coin, a Happy Meal toy, or a small item from your junk drawer will suffice.

Some wildflowers at Ellwood...so lovely!

3. Wear close-toed shoes. This was another mistake I made, and so our sandal-clad family spent lots of time tiptoeing through the thick carpet of leaves, bark, and dead branches that covered our search area. Ouch!

4. Stick to terrain that is suitable for small children. Mistake #3 right here! Once we found our first cache, Louis asked me where I'd like to search next. Using my excellent foresight, I chose the Ellwood Mesa, an area with some steep hills and overgrown ravines. The next hour looked like this: chase Simon down a hill, stab my foot on eucalyptus bark, prevent Simon from nearing the edge of a cliff, stab my foot on a stick, etc. For families with small children (especially age 3 and under), I highly recommend choosing a geocaching area with flat, easy terrain where children won't be in immediate danger when a parent stops to consult the app or search under a bush. Fortunately, the app includes terrain difficulty ratings for each cache. (which I again completely neglected until after the fact. "Duh!", party of one!)

Verdict: Geocaching is a fun, even addictive, activity. I highly recommend it to adventurous individuals, couples, and families with older children! For families with small children, searching for easy caches on flat, safe terrain can be a great introduction to the hobby. Just be prepared: your children might ask to go "treasure hunting" all the time!

Posing with our first find! Elise almost chose the green whistle as her trade item but instead took a red button.
Whatever makes her happy!

On Horses, Writing, and Why Hello There!

noreply@blogger.com (kelly) — Fri, 09 May 2014 20:03:00 +0000

My adorable daughter.

When I was a little girl, I was obsessed with horses. You know how, in her “Mother’s Prayer," Tina Fey hopes that her daughter will be interested in dolls and horses far too long? Yep, that was me!

I collected Breyer horse figurines, learned every breed and coloring with Hermione-level encyclopedic authority (“That’s not a brown horse. That’s a bay.”), and probably read every horse-themed children’s novel available in the early nineties (Saddle Club, anyone?).

When I was about 7 years old, the biggest dream in my little second grader heart came true: My mom and dad bought me a pony. (Yes, I know this statement makes my childhood seem so privileged. Don’t worry-- things became screwed up later, and I didn’t grow up wearing pearls and spending my weekends at the country club).

Anyway, we had a horse. A real one. Living in our backyard.

She was a sweet thing: charmingly stocky with a sandy coat and a wild, feathery mane-- pale gold.

And you know what? I was afraid of her.

If the horse obsession didn't make me cool enough, I also wore giant pink glasses which created a striking resemblance to Abigail Breslin's character in Little Miss Sunshine. As you can imagine, I was soooo popular!

Don’t get me wrong. I loved to groom her, feed her, and be close to her. But when it came to actually riding her? I was secretly terrified.

Despite riding lessons since the age of 3, I could not shake my anxiety whenever my pony--or any other horse-- quickened her step beyond a bouncy trot. My body stiffened as soon as she rolled into a canter. And a gallop? I held on for dear life and fought the instinct to close my eyes. I was afraid of losing control and falling off. I was afraid of failing at the thing I loved most.

I never told anyone.

Just the other day, I thought back to my riding days and felt a deep affection for my 7-year old self. I imagined what life might have been like had I been honest about my fear. Perhaps with practice, patience, and my riding teacher’s affirmation and guidance, I would have been able to gallop with ease, or even jump? I’ll always wonder.

And then I realized that I haven’t changed much in nearly 25 years. It’s still the things I love that scare me the most.

The 7-year old in me really likes these earrings from Anthropologie.

I love to write, and I’m embarrassed to confess that the last time I published a blog, I was typing by dorm room light and probably listening to something like Dashboard Confessional. (I’m not sure what’s more embarrassing: my blogging absence or the Dashboard Confessional?)

The reason for my long absence is not that I ceased to be a writer. I’ve always been a writer, and it takes nothing more than a hot shower or a passenger window daydream or a long walk to leave my brain budding with unwritten ideas. And I suppose it’s okay to end there-- just as my 7-year old self could have continued hopping around on a stick pony.

But there’s no substitute for writing--for poking and tapping around the heart and mind until the words trickle, or--if it's a good day-- gush.

So this blog is my attempt to gallop. And maybe jump. And try really hard to keep my eyes open.