In the meantime, feel free to do some blog browsing and drop some suggested blog topics in the comments, too.

I’m listening. And writing. And ready to see what blog 2.0 might look like.

Today I was struck by chapter 2. Don’t know it? Let me sum it up – Job has suffered beyond what is imaginable. He’s got a handful of friends who come to comfort him. It went like this:

“Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to Job for they saw that his suffering was too great for words.” – Job 2:13

They just showed up. (Spoiler: later in the book they start spewing and spoiling all the GOOD from chapter 2. Honestly, I’ve been them at times, too.) While I wish I could be the “just show up” friend for so many, it’s a team sport and we can only show up for the need we can touch, ya know? But if you are in a spot to sit with folks, I wanted to share something with you.

As I was emerging from two years of serious loss and agony, I felt like God wanted me to talk about it. And so I called my awesome friend Rebecca and she gave me a mic to share some stuff on her podcast. I don’t know if it will help but it certainly was healing for me to talk about it. He knows your story… He knows what’s next. He knows where He wants us to sit quietly and save the words. Here’s the link; I hope you’ll give it a listen.

*I’ve been on a few other podcasts with Rebecca. If you want to check them out, you can go HERE to see them all listed.

Listen in. Oh…and I walk out in a giant Texas homecoming mum, too. So there’s that.

If you wanna hear more of my teaching stuff, check out the speaking & teaching menu. If you’re interested in bringing me to your event, retreat, or evening a lil’ living room gathering, you can connect with me HERE (be sure to ask if you want me to bring my big, borrowed mum along, too.).

The next day as Grandpa surveyed the still smoldering mound of ashes, a well-meaning friend asked, “Now what?” And as he unloaded a shovel from a borrow pickup truck, he said those three words: Now we shovel.

I like to think I have some of Grandpa’s determination in hard, seemingly hopeless times. Sometimes life can feel dark and deep like a never-ending pile of ashes. My mom said there were 35 truckloads of ash removed from my grandparents’ property after that fire. Nothing was saved. Everything was gone. And so they shoveled.

My Grandma and Grandpa’s house has always lived in my memory as the most joyful and safe place I can remember from my childhood. But what I didn’t know then was that their home was rebuilt on top of the very spot Grandpa started shoveling ashes. As kids every now and then we’d find a charred lil piece of history in the yard or a flower bed. A reminder of rebuilding, restarting, and finding new hope.

This summer is about restarting for me. While I may not be writing here much in this blog post graveyard, I am writing. I’m composing and creating lots of big stuff: studies and essays and stories that feel like new hope.

I can’t wait to share more. Soon. So, stay tuned. Follow along. God is helping me rebuild. New hope. New light. “Now we shovel.”

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i write and teach Bible studies to lots of cool ladies. There. That explains the lack of blogging going on around here. We just ended a cool 11 weeks of Ecclesiastes; i was writing the study for a few months before that. It’s been deep. It’s been heavy, but mostly, it’s been rich and true.

After i wrap up a study like that, i fall into a “gap.” The in-between. (NOTE: this is way different that the “upside-down” for those Stranger Things fans out there.)i get tired and a lil aimless. i land in-between studies and in a gap that feels less focused than when i have a plan.

During this gap i somehow cracked open the book of Habakkuk. Yea, i know. Weird. But for some reason, i’m drawn there right now. Yesterday i read these words in the Message translation of Habakkuk 2:2:

And then God answered: “Write this.
Write what you see.
Write it out in big block letters
so that it can be read on the run.”

Risking taking this passage out of context, i was DRAWN to the word: “write.” God told Habakkuk to WRITE. Ya see, Habakkuk was struggling with an unfair world where the bad guys (seem to) win. He asks two BIG questions of God: “Why?” and “How long?” ANYONE RELATE? But the cool thing about this funny lil book is that God answers Habakkuk’s questions directly and tells him to write them down plainly for everyone to see…

Everyone in a hurry
Everyone who doesnt take the time to look for themselves
Everyone who might need it in the future
Everyone who has impact/influence over others
Everyone.

And so, i thought of me and my other “gap” friends. When i take off “on the run” in the craziness of my life, am i leaving Him standing there with truth just dripping from His hands for ME, but i’m too _________ to stop and listen?

Mind the gap, Kris. For me, the gap can quickly become the time when:

i let busyness overtake quietness
i let darkness overshadow light
i let noise overtake whispers
i let other voices speak louder than the One Voice

What say you? How do u define the gaps in your life? Valleys? Trenches? How do you mind those gaps in your life? Does He have big truths for you to write out with big block letters for all to see? i dunno. Minding the gap is where i find myself right now…

I woke up with these two words today: WRITERS WRITE. Today I’m facing down the blinking cursor for the first time in weeks. Not sure why because a few weeks ago I wondered if I’d ever write again. Ever. And then today those two words were banging around in my brain…like a beeping alarm on my watch that I just don’t know how to turn off (true story).

And so, here we are.

After I crossed my most recent writing finish line in November, I honestly wondered if I’d ever have the desire to type another word. As the deadline loomed, life tried to wreck me. I struggled to navigate my usual writing process; inadequacy and insecurity became my native tongue. The mental/emotional/spiritual battleground OWNED me.

Today I’m writing again.

I’m convinced I needed to shut it down and let God rework me a bit. I needed to let Him take over and fill my tank before I put my hands back on this keyboard. My friend/pastor Ron once told me one of the holiest things you can do is take a nap. I needed a figurative nap.

Maybe your struggle isn’t finding words like mine, but I’m sure you can relate in your own way. Where are you feeling like a failure and listening to lies? Can I suggest something?

Get some rest.
Step away.
Let your mind, heart, body, soul breathe.

You’ll write again…trust me on this one. Doubt and hopelessness won’t win. Sometimes that doubt creeps in and strengthens us. Writers write.

Well. I guess I need to explain. Ya see, God gave me the gift of a new friendship that started yesterday over La Madeline salads and iced coffee. It started out as a get-to-know-ya-let’s-help-each-other-with-Bible-study-stuff lunch, but it ended with a deep dive into our histories and who God is molding us into and how.

We talked about our stories…our histories. I shared with her how on 6/19/85 my life fell apart, but also fell together (but I wouldn’t know that until years later).

As I drove away from my lunch, I felt the still-open wound of him being physically gone. I wished I could really introduce my new friend to him. Ya see, I didn’t get time to tell her how brilliantly hilarious he was. I never mentioned how much I loved his turnaround jumper at the top of the key. I don’t think I told her that he loved classic country music. I never brought up how he appreciated the greatness of John McEnroe. I neglected to tell her how much he loved mechanical pencils and yellow lined notepads. And I certainly didn’t tell her how much I loved sneaking into to his New Living Bible to read his notes and thoughts and prayers and dreams.

But I did introduce my new friend to Dad.

Today I woke up thinking about tomorrow (6/19)…thinking about this weekend. Father’s Day weekend is always weird for me. Some years I’m broken; some years I’m good. But this year, I want to remember that I still get to introduce my dad to everyone around me.

When you meet me, you meet him. When I make you laugh, you encounter his killer sense of humor. When you hear me talk about how lyrics and good music is my soul-food, you get to know the man who learned guitar just to play and sing Sunshine on my Shoulders for me. When we take on some Tex-Mex together, you get a taste of Dad’s favorite nights at Rodarte’s restaurant in the Gibson’s shopping center. When I tell you about how Young Life changed my life, you learn that his hope/dream was for teenagers to meet Jesus early in life and trust Him to the end. And when I share my tribe with you, you find out that Dad’s greatest desire was to love his wife and kids well…and leave a legacy of family and faith.

For lots of folks this weekend is hard. Sometimes we focus on the loss; sometimes we long for that day to pass. But this year I want to remember to introduce you to my Dad no matter how much time has passed.

Mom,
I’ve put writing this letter OFF for a while now. I like to think of myself as having lots of words, but when I think of you and trying to tell you just how much you mean to me…no words feel strong enough, big enough, loving enough.

Without question (and I know you’ll just shake your head when you read this) you are why I have hope, mom. Yea yea yea, Jesus is my one true hope, but you are hope personified. It all goes back to those days at Arrowhead and the wicker love seat in the garden room for me. That’s where it became REAL for me…this hope that you exude. Ya see, for me, my Highland Village memories are good and easy…little kid stuff. I think back and remember lots of playing with Jonny, eating Doritos in the game room, hide-and-seek in the laundry chute, kickball in the street, eating candy out of Grandma’s candy jar, seeing you and Dad laughing and dancing (I don’t know why I remember lots of laughing with you two, but I do – I mean, remember the square-dancing days???), roller skating in the driveway, going on lake adventures with Grandpa. That was HV for me.

But Arrowhead was different. Don’t get me wrong…I still remember LOTS of fun, hilarious, GOOD stuff with Dad and our whole family and all the animals, but for me Arrowhead is where I saw hope lived out through you. How do i wrap words around SEEING HOPE?

Hope for me, was seeing you in your robe with your coffee and your Bible or devotional of choice sitting in the lil wicker loveseat on the good days, the mundane days…and the unbearable ones. It was the one thing I never doubted even in the darkest times. Never one single time…even in the worst of it…did I wonder if you would persevere and keep trusting God. Never once did I become afraid I’d lose you, too. Never ever ever ever did I think you might turn your back on your faith because life was finally just TOO MUCH. Never once.

Ya see, you shared hope with me even when you didn’t know you were doing it. When you were simply putting one foot in front of the other…just taking the next breath, doing the next thing…you have never been more beautiful or impactful or just pure GOODNESS than in those moments to me. I wanted to be you. I still do. Mom, you showed me what it looked like to trust Jesus NO MATTER WHAT. We can say that, but you were forced to live that. And because of us getting to witness you and how you walk/walked (sometimes crawled) through the dark days of this life we’re living, we can know that trusting Jesus is worth it. It’s not conditional and it’s never empty. You changed eternity, mom. We have all (your kids and grandkids) put our trust in Him…I’d guess my siblings would all say the same thing…because we saw you live it out before our eyes.

You may not remember this, but you said something to me a year or so ago and I haven’t forgotten it. You said:

“You know, when we lost the baby I didn’t think I could ever endure something that hurt that bad. Your dad and i were barely 19 and 20. I was kinda relieved once we’d gotten through it because I felt like we could do anything after surviving it. Like maybe I’d get a pass. And then your dad died. I asked God how He could let this happen…AGAIN. How could I possibly make it this time? And then I looked at you kids and knew I didn’t have a choice. I had to survive because of you. And so, I did whatever I had to do.”

Mom, you are hope. You are strength. You are unconditional love. You are generosity. You are joy. You are fun. You are support. You are help. You are everything I could ever hope to be and all I could ever hope our kids would grow to be.

When I read the part of Jesus’ words to us about being salt and light to the world, I see YOU in every word. He said these words knowing Judith Lynn Wood Hunter Smith would LIVE THEM OUT. Never ever doubt how He’s using you in the life of others…especially us. We are who we are because of you. Thank you, Mom. Happy birthday.

Here’s to 80 more,
kdm

Salt and Light – Matthew 5:13-16 (The Message)

¹³ “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ve lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.

^14-16 “Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.

Was it because we were locked down doing puzzles, watching The Princess Bride, baking, and making cold brew with my favs (and 2 mutts)?

Was it the Hunter Christmas zoom that still makes me giggle when I think the hilarious madness of it all?

Maybe it was the Murphy birthday serenade from the street complete with a dinner and cookies drop-off on the sidewalk out front?

FOR SURE. It’s been a birthday of reminders that God loves me…and He’s given me a tribe to prove it. But this year the best birthday gift was hand-delivered to my porch by a sweet lil Christmas elf (yes, Lauren, i called you an “elf”) early on the morning of my 51st bday. It’s NOT lost on me the timing of it all, friends.

God and Lauren made sure i got my hands on the final two workbooks for the WHAT WE LEAVE Bible study i’ve been writing/teaching since spring 2020. When i grabbed the delivery off my porch, i paused to take a deep breath and lay my eyes on these two in a quiet house, just me and the real Author. Ya see, I’ve written a few studies over the past few years, but these two hold a new degree of “it could ONLY be God.”

These two studies came to life in the most difficult writing season i’ve ever experienced. i struggled through my tightest writing deadline of ever, i got crazy-sick (that 9-day COVID headache was no joke), I walked through some painful broken places with those i love, i endured epic writer’s block, i felt uninspired, insecure, and unable. And yet, here i hold these two books God authored through my typing fingers and crazy frazzled brain. The best birthday gift? It’s the fact that He lets me be part of this process. I’m humbled. I’m thankful. And I’m a little bit scared.

Moses and Matthew…they took me on a journey. i hope you might want to come with me when I start teaching in January 2021. But for now I’m just going to sit here with my cup of coffee by the Christmas tree and hold these reminders of the gift He gave me this year. He let me be a lil part of His plan.

Drop me a line if you wanna go on the WWL journey with me. You can do it online on your own, gather your own group, or join us in person at RPC in Flower Mound, TX.

He’s up to something, that’s for sure. The coolest gift ever is getting to be part of it.

So so so many amazing thoughts/prayers/ideas/pains/questions coming from our week in Belize. I’ve done lots of writing…some will become blogs, I’m sure. Some have become prayers. But there’s one thing I’ve realized…there’s too much to sort out into nice neat piles of:

thankful for this
confused by this
struggling to understand this
conflicted about this
hopeful because of this
happiness embodied in this
asking WHY about this
never wanting to leave this
wanting to forget this

I thrive on control and order and my time here felt like a giant shoe scramble of feelings. And–after the first 24 hours in Belize and a good cry on the beach–I realized that this is one of those times that God is asking me to just jump in the pile and dig out one shoe at a time…He’ll sort it out for me.

Even my writing took on a new feel…it became a bullet point list of thoughts and feelings and memories that I’d choose to dig down and examine later.

One morning before we headed to Holy Angels School to start the day, Brent posed a challenge to our family (and later to our whole group) to seek to answer one question:

WHY YOU WE HERE?

Answering this q for myself became the primary topic of discussion with God and me over the next few days.

While on the trip, I read a new all-time fav called  Help, Thanks, Wow  by Anne Lamott. While processing all my “shoes” scrambled up in my mind and recorded in my journal AND wrestling with Brent’s question, I read this and it became my Belize mantra:

“The truth is that ‘to whomever much is given, of him will much be required; and to whom much was entrusted of him more will be asked,’ if Jesus is to be believed. He meant us not the Kennedys or the Romneys — us, to whom such exquisite companions have been given. In the face of this, we mysteriously find ourselves willing to pick up litter in the street, or let others go first in traffic. Or even to let the psychotic talk to us for longer than a normal person would, to set aside the apprehension or boredom we feel and actually listen…

How can something so simple be so profound, letting others go first, in traffic or in line at Starbucks, and even if no one cares or notices? Because for the most part, people wont care–they’re late, they havent heard back from their new boyfriend, or they’re fixated on the stock market. And they wont notice that you let them go ahead of you. 

They’ll take it as their due. 

But you’ll know. And it can change your whole day, which could be a way to change your whole life. There really is only today, although luckily that is also the eternal now. And maybe one person in the car in the lane next to you or in line at the bank or at your kid’s baseball game will notice your casual generosity and will be touched, lifted, encouraged — in other words, slightly changed for the better — and later will let someone else go first. And this will be quantum.” 

The WHY in the midst of the shoe scramble? There it was. For me, the answer was in the litter-picking-up.

Because He’s given me the ability and opportunity to.
Because most of the time only He knew.
Because He can change me thru the litter.
Because maybe how I serve/love will impact someone else.

“And this will be quantum…”

And so for me, at that school I attempted to end every day picking up litter. (There is so much litter there.) And the funny thing was, it was some of the best time I had w/God..almost like a super-cool inside joke between me and the Creator of everything,

Funny thing, on our last day at the school He arranged that one of my fellow workers asked, “Hey Kris, could u help out w/something? I need a hand picking up this litter before we head out…”

Good one, God. Nicely played.