Knowers of Darkness vs. Blinded with Pride

I think there are a couple different kinds of Christians.  We’ll refer to them, respectively, as “Knowers of Darkness” and “Blinded with Pride.”    The Knowers of Darkness have an uncanny awareness of their wretchedness.  They look in the mirror and see their filth.  They understand how unworthy they are of grace and the sacrifice of Christ.  They know, keenly, their own disgust and ugliness.  No one has to explain depravity to them- the tears on their pillow night after night- are proof of their dirtiness.  These people can see the good in their hearts of their friends, and covet those gifts.  The Knowers of Darkness are so attuned to their lack of worth that they are unaware of what their gifts might be, the true weight of grace, and are convinced that Christ is far too beautiful to touch them.  They believe and desire for the worth and beauty of friends and family to be touched by this Beauty- though even through talking and loving the Lord…still wrestle with seeing and knowing their own brokenness- while being haunted with the beauty touching all those around them.  They see an untouchable in the foggy shower mirror.  They see a frog who knows Christ’s love…and battles for it… but will never ever, under any circumstances, turn into the princess they desire to be.

The Blinded with Pride are of another ilk.  They have an IV that sucks in God’s grace every hour of the day.  They expect it, so they do not SEE it.  They see their physical grandeur in the mirror each day, and marvel at their blessings.  Blinded with Pride folks want, almost desperately, to be praised for their many gifts and talents.  They seek validation and acceptance in all that they do.  They sin, and shrug.  They know Christ’s love is big enough to cover their indiscretions.  They may fall in tears of repentance, but when the morning comes, they are quick to pull the grace card out of their pocket to swipe on the way out the door.  They expect and expect.  They may see themselves as worthy, while using the verbiage “I have assumed the righteousness of Christ in his death and resurrection,” not because they believe it, but because they need something to mask the stench of their own self-righteousness.  These people may be blinded into thinking that the world is good.  Or, that there are “good” people.  They are happy and joyful, but never rip their hearts open- because they would rather walk with blinders sucking in grace like a pacifier… then see themselves for the horrible creatures they really are.  That we ALL really are. 

I am a “Knower of Darkness.”  Even before I was a believer, I had an inclination to think this way.  To SEE myself this way.  It’s one of my biggest battles.  Accepting Christ, and “getting” His grace are not always simultaneous events.  I know He lives in me, because my heart and life are different.  I have a different purpose when I wake up every morning.  I am new.  But knowing “why” is a different ball game altogether.  I may be cloaked in grace, though I mentally cannot understand why. 

Please know, I am not advocating for either extreme here.  Both commit sins of their own in different ways and for different reasons.  Both are not what the gospel is about.  Both place an attention on self (good or bad) instead of full attention on Christ.  Both fail. Both lack moderation in evident and obvious capacities.  There is a middle ground, a balance, which I find so hard to strike.  There SHOULD be a rightful acknowledgment of your sinfulness- a true disgust for your horrible nature… but you should also know that His grace is ALWAYS enough.  For the Blinded with Pride, there SHOULD be a full awareness of the beautiful gift of the Lord’s grace… but it should never be flippantly understood or taken advantage of by the continuance of sins that CAN be stopped. 

Clearly, with my admission above, as a self-proclaimed Knower of Darkness- I don’t have any wisdom to cushion the truth here.  The thing I latch onto, and will fight for until my very last breath- is that God is all-sovereign.  He loves with a love I cannot even begin to fathom or understand.  I know that He is BIGGER than me.   I know when things seem out of control in my life- that there are lessons to be learned from my multiple failures.  I know when I push others away from my heart- and they keep coming back… that mercy- is so much more than a five letter “Christiany” word to throw around.  Mercy becomes something I can touch.  Mercy is real.  I do know, that although my thoughts can sometimes dig a hole too deep for me to get myself out of, I never ever want to forget how horrible my sins are.  I never want to stop feeling the painful empathy I have for the day Christ died on a cross, naked, with steal pushed through his bones…for every sin I have already committed- and every future sin I will commit.  I don’t want to lose sight of my inherent “scoffer” attitude as I flip the pages of my bible with cynicism and, on some days, dwindling faith.  I don’t want to stop praying for faith- for my soul to march on with courage!  I don’t want my eyes to ever veer from the man on that tree. 

For it is He who gave much, for nothing in return.  It is Christ who loved us, knowing He would be denied by us.  It is the Lord who spoke the world into life with a single word- and watches us make mini gods of all that it contains. 

I don’t have the answers.  I never will.  But pray that I will never stop my painful pursuit of questions- and that the knowledge of a God who has ALL the answers… will always make Himself known to my wretched and filthy heart.  A heart substituted for the heart of Christ- my key to the other world that knows no pain. 

Just a sojourner for the awareness of grace, a question maker, and the owner of an unbalanced lens that sees the darkness in her heart clearly and truthfully…

Kami

Onion Peeling and Wagging Tails

I ask for forgiveness before I even begin.  I’m struggling to be open and honest.  I’m struggling, DAILY, to show the world the woman that God made me.  Every interaction feels forced and overdone, (or underdone, I’m not sure).  My eyes are a bit greyish in color, a lackluster form of their usual piercing blue.  Something is out of whack, off kilter, missing. 

I have a checklist of things I “go through,” since becoming a believer.  It’s my OCD Christian way of making sure I’m talking the talk and walking the walk.  List as follows: (1) quiet time daily, (2) reading the bible daily, (3) reading another Christian book by a reputable author on a subject I struggle with, (4) Spending enough time in fellowship, (5) spending enough time alone in order to evaluate my heart, and reevaluate, and reevaluate… (6) Praying all day everyday, (7) fighting spiritual warfare, (8) exercising/eating correctly, (9) journaling, (10) investing and giving to others of my time, money, and energy. 

I like lists.  I’ve been through this list a hundred times in the past three weeks.  I’m checking things off- yet feeling the very same.  My mom said something about my dog, Major, this morning…that for whatever reason, the Lord has used to break a bit of the fog. 

I really really really love my dog, Major.  He is a strapping black lab with sweet eyes, and the most wonderful demeanor.  He is truly a gift.  My pastor, J.D., always talks about how his kids give him a different perspective of the Lord… and though I have not been blessed with children… the Lord does the same (spare the laughter, people) for me with my dog, Major.  Let me explain.

Major teaches me neediness.  He cannot feed himself; take himself outside (he doesn’t have opposable thumbs, you see…), bathe himself, and much more.  He relies on me.  But it’s more than just reliance out of necessity- he delights in asking me for the things he needs, and he does so boldly and honestly.  I know what his different barks mean.  When he cries, I can instantly diagnose the issue at hand.  In my human impatience…there are days and times this neediness tempts me to pull out every hair on my head…but almost just as instantly, there is a thankfulness in his gestures, physical affection, and soft eyes that pull me back to a place of understanding.  I lack this neediness.  I control all that I can.  I know my reasons, and though some may see them as valid, I see them as an excuse.  Why don’t I cry to my God the second I need something?  Why don’t I thank Him when prayers are answered by wagging my happy tail?  Why don’t my eyes soften to Him?  Well… I’m working on it.  Rome wasn’t built in a day, and my heart won’t be refined in one either. 

Major delights in spending time with me.  He literally follows every step I make around our happy home.  He lays on the bathroom floor while I shower (he doesn’t want me to slip…duh), he likes to ride shot gun and go to Oxford Manor on Saturdays, and he loves to cuddle (aka, hog the entire bed).  There are times he gets caught up in my feet while I cook in the kitchen, and sometimes I accidently step on him…and say, “Maj, you can’t be there!  You are going to get hurt!”  WHAT?  I’m a bad pet mother.  Why would it ever be valid to be upset with a such a sweet little guy… for simply desiring to be CLOSE to me?  God would never be upset for me for being too close.  He would cherish the moments, and delight in them.  I need to seek to be too close, because too close…is just close enough in the eyes of my Savior.

Major teaches me to view myself how the Father views me.  I know Major is my dog, and though I have a tendency for being dramatic- he REALLY is the most handsome dog in the world.  He should be a doggy model.  He is very photogenic!  Even outside of the physical, Major has the most wonderful little heart.  He pours forth an unconditional love that humans are too depraved to even understand.  His HEART is beautiful.  Major’s heart is beautiful… because he gives love.  He is not hardened.  He is not careful.  He recklessly gives and gives… no conditions, no checklist, no reasons or ending goal.  Unfortunately, I’m a whole other story. I am usually guarded.  Much like my dad, I’m an onion… you have to peel me away one layer at a time.  I suppose I have both environmental and situational reasons as to why I am this way, but another reason I have found is- I want to see who will “man-up” enough to wait through the proverbial “peeling.”  (As if that is an accurate test to see what their intentions are for me.)  Recently, I have learned how imperfect my “fail safe” can be.  People can infiltrate my interior that should have been pushed away by layer one!  So what is the point?

Good question.  I’m trying to let my layers fall more quickly and more naturally.  It’s not an easy task.  I feel exposed.  I feel like I’m letting go of the control mechanism.  It’s scary.  Good thing I have a sweet puppy dog to smile up at me with those sweet brown eyes- to show me how imperfect I am, how much I need my Creator, how I should delight in time spent with the Lord, and teach me what unconditional love should probably look more like.  

Just a girl… learning to wag her tail, peel down the layers without causing too many tears, and dodging through this never ending process of refinement.  

-Kami

The Purpose of Darkness

I’ve never really been a fan of the dark.  There is something unusual about the weight of darkness.  It’s a blanket of uncertainty…too much unknown, too much trust needed to navigate, and too little protection.  For someone like me [I fell UP the stairs at work 4 days in a row last week…], the dark imposes further obstacles; sharp corners, closed doors that are usually open, Major dog’s squeaky toys, miscellaneous art supplies, and the occasional beer bottle haphazardly strewn about.  It gets extra tricky for me when the lights go out.  Presents are revealed in the morning in the form of bruises, cuts, and the ever-awkward… melted carton of ice cream in bed.  [Just kidding… it’s actually soggy carrots…]

Darkness can manifest itself in a lot of ways.  I’ve felt that same blanket of fear cover my thoughts this week… a never-ending stream of voices with dark ideas, dark personal flaws, and dark assumptions.  All of which, tearing apart the God given light that shines inside of me…threatening to be the cause of the light’s very demise. The part of me that knows I don’t deserve God, wants very much to throw in the towel…to let the tiny beams of hope from the Lord dwindle into oblivion.  Maybe that same part of me knows that giving up will always be easier.  Maybe the “old me” was not willing to put forth this fight- and is wholly ashamed that the “new me,” the “me” the Lord has refined and pursued… questions if the fight is actually worth it.  I am fearful that I will fail.  

But…I will always fail.  Would a world full of perfect success need a Savior who is mighty to save?  Would a woman feel the presence of the Lord, as heavily as I do now, without the pain and exhaustion it took to bring me there? 

I openly admit- the answer would be “No.”  For that reason: I welcome this pain, I maintain the pain, I live and soak and breathe in this pain…because it is a reminder of the pain it took for Jesus Christ to save the world.  Pain lets me feel the slow drips of that blood on the back of my neck- as I lay at the feet of the Lamb, a Lamb powerful enough to wash me clean.  Pain keeps me there.  Pain keeps me from running away.  

Jesus paid it all for me.  For that reason, I will fight.  I will twist and writhe the devil inside.  I will scream and kick until the mercies given for this day are empty again.  I will stay faithful in the desert.  I will trust that I am emptied, so that I may be filled once again.   I will let the Lord inside the ugliness of my heart… and without anesthetics…feel Him rip the bad out… and glue back together the good.  I will let him break through the blanket of darkness that covers my heart- and that covers this world.  

Just a girl…twisting through exhaustion and darkness with a Holy Light saber [a la Star Wars], and a fighting spirit that refuses to let the world break her of her hope in hope. 


-Kami

It. Just. Doesn't. Make. Sense.

I’ve hit many walls in my life.  Some hurt more than others.  Some surprised me and shook my ability to trust.  Some made me feel isolated.  Some left lifelong scars that I hid for as long as I could.  And others- well… I hit them all over again.  This week, I’ve been the energizer bunny- running full steam ahead; only to crash, retreat, erase it from memory, and start the process all over again yielding the same consequences.  These walls, for me, are the hardest of all.

I can appreciate the way God teaches me lessons.  Now- He would tell you, that I’m the slowest and most stubborn person when it comes to listening to His cues of refinement, but, in turn, He would also admit that I am usually grateful after I give up on the fight.  And I am.  I like a world that makes linear sense.  You make a mistake, there are consequences.  Sin always has consequences, and they are easily the scariest consequences to untangle.  At the root of the mess that has been made… all fingers are pointing towards you.  It’s a lot of weight to carry around.  Believe me- I carried my cross for a long time before I knew Jesus, and even still, because I don’t understand His grace…there are days I try to pick it back up.  I try to pick it back up because I know that I deserve the splinters it causes and the sores it rubs raw… because I know that in a linear world that it makes sense for me to be punished, because even on the days I feel closest to my Father in Heaven… I STILL ask Him the question: “How can someone as good as You, love someone as horrible as me?”  I don’t care how many sermons on love, faith, trust, grace, mercy, and selflessness I hear…. It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Sense. 

There are a lot of things that don’t necessarily make sense to me.  Take my parents, for instance.  It doesn’t make sense that my parents are still madly in love with each other.  My logic tells me: people make mistakes [lots of mistakes]- the longer you spend with the person, the more mistakes you witness them make- the more mistakes you witness them make, the less you like them and want to be around them- the less you like them the more you want to run away forever and ever- if you run away forever and ever your marriage is over and, as a result, you are alone and miserable.  Unfortunately, that chain of events happens to a lot of marriages in our culture.  My parents are the exception to this rule.  I’ve seen some of the mistakes each have made in their lives, and they are more in love today than they were 25 years ago.  It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Sense.

So where does this leave me?  I’m someone who tries to make sense of things that are discombobulated.  I put puzzle pieces in their correct spot, I put band aides on my nephews’ elbows when they jump from insanely high inanimate objects, and I play double intense super solitaire [when I’m feeling extra crazy].  It’s the curse of Eve… to want to put things back together… to make them “right” again.  And lately, this curse has been a wall that I can’t keep myself from running into.  It’s a wall God keeps placing in my wake to expose me for exactly what I am… a person incapable of fixing herself. 

Yep.  Suzy-Fix-it, deadbolt-self-installer-self-described-bad-a, chick-doesn’t-need-a-man-to-do-a-darn-thing… is incapable of fixing herself.  So why do I spend so much of my energy trying convince the world [and myself] that I’m so strong?  Well, for one, I like to see who has the balls to call my bluff.  My parents for instance, call me out on those shenanigans as quick as you could cook a bag of Uncle Ben’s instant rice.  My best friends do the same thing, [though, admittedly, more bluntly and more difficult for me to absorb].  And my Father in Heaven- well, He makes a point to tell me that I’m “full of it” [he doesn’t say the bad word] every single day.  The truth I always expect them to reveal to me is: you’re lonely, you’re broken, you’re suffering through self inflicted guilt, you’re ugly, It’s not about you, you’re on your own.  Instead, they tell me: You have community, you are filled, you have been redeemed, you have a beauty that should be recognized by others, you love the Lord and know it’s about Him, you’re supported.  It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Sense.

This unfortunately doesn’t have an ending with superlatives and intricate prose to show you the answer to my conundrum.  I wish it did, but I can’t stop running into this wall to figure it out.  I know the answer is GRACE, but a word is just a compilation of letters without an origin or understood weighted meaning.  Truthfully, though I could define it, and emphasize its weight, I still don’t understand it.  I don’t understand how it could make me beautiful in a man’s eyes, or how it has glued the hearts of my parents together for so many years, but most of all… I don’t understand how it could make a man carry a cross, up a hill, bleeding and gasping from exhaustion, to some accounts-intestines dragging across the path He walked, crying from pain beyond anyone’s understanding, in constant prayer-not for Himself-but for those cursing Him and slowly killing Him, enduring the nails piercing His veins and bones and cartilage, hanging on a tree for the remainder of His human life-not for Himself- but for mankind.  So… preach away pastors, and biblical scholars, and those with a gift of a beautiful and naïve childlike faith…. I’m thankful that you “get” it.  But for me… I’m thankful for the gift of grace, I’m beyond speechless that a love exists that would endure through every circumstance; I do my best to “accept” it…. But- It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Sense. 

So for now… this energizer bunny will keep going and going and going… probably until I sit at the foot of my Father.  Only then will it make sense to this ugly and undeserving heart like mine.  But until then, I should start expecting a lot of bruises…. 

-Kami

The beauty in dreams...and the jump of believing they may come true...

I imagine it happened once.  Maybe a few times or maybe many.  I certainly have no way of knowing how or when, though, something in my heart is able to map a vague outline.  I see her with too big eyes that tell too much, blonde unruly hair, laughter and songs all her own.  She dreamed big dreams.  She had an imagination of stories about this world and others.  She was light.  So long ago… she almost seems like a figment of my imagination…a fleeting fairytale, only without the happy ending. 

Looking back, I have to admit the details to be a bit hazy.  Yes, my eyes are still too big and despite all my wishes- still reveal too much.  My hair, still blonde… though… I have tried every trick in the book to tame it.  I laugh on occasion, but not without stifling giggles of pure joy back down into the hidden core of my being, worried what people might think of my special joys.  I sing… but only when no one can hear me.  That’s not the worst of it.  I don’t dream anymore.  I don’t dream… because I am afraid more than anything…that they wont come true. 

I did very little fairytale watching growing up.  I remember watching the news and liking the idea that what I was watching… was REAL.  No fluff, no glitter, no flying.  I never watched the news and felt my heart leap out of my chest with happiness nor desire, and I think I enjoyed that steady expectation.  There are some out there who would agree with me. 

In seven days I turn 24.  I’m in a city without close friends, without family, without familiarity… and I would certainly be lying if I didn’t admit that all of those things are daily trials that rip at my heart.  In a short time, so much has been revealed to me- large and small ideas about this world and the power of God’s beauty in and around me.  Nothing like the revelation He delivered tonight. 

I’ve forgotten how to dream. 

Not just the silly dreams.  The real ones.  The important ones.  Maybe I stopped dreaming way back when, because it was easier to stay grounded than to hope that something hardly tangible would come true.  Or maybe, because so many dreams simply shattered in my wake.  I suppose the “why” doesn’t matter.  One day, I may need to sort that out- but for tonight- my heart can’t run away from the “what.”

I’d like to think that some of my light is back.  For almost a year I have experienced joy in the knowledge of a God so big…. well, TOO big for my own imagination!  My brain doesn’t have the capacity to know or understand Him, as I’d wish.  Knowing of God’s existence has a beauty of it’s very own- but His promises are something that you have to have the courage to imagine coming true.  Tonight I realized I have been, at best, a coward about my God. 

Though I still remain firm in the fact that I am nobody’s princess, that “prince charming” in all his perfection and glory doesn’t ACTUALLY exist, and not everyone experiences their “happy ending”…. Something has certainly stirred a big of light up in my heart.  For some reason, I want to take chances.  I want to take chances without considering the probability of the outcome turning, as I’d wish it would.  I want to be hopeful… in God and in people in a way I’ve always been horrified by.  I want to be powerless and reckless.  I want to give to others and love in a way that defies all logic and protection.  But more than any of those things--- I want to dream for things…and finally expect my irrational dreams to come true. 

My favorite Broadway musical sings, “Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game. Too late for second-guessing, too late to go back to sleep. It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes: and leap! …. I'm through accepting limits, cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but till I try, I'll never know! Too long I've been afraid of, losing love I guess I've lost. Well, if that's love --- It comes at much too high a cost! I'd sooner buy, defying gravity. Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity…. And you can't pull me down.”

I suppose I feel a little like flying.  And I’m starting to believe that my feet just might leave the ground,

Kami

Just a Carolina girl...

Well, Here I am.  I have my own studio apartment in Raleigh.  I am mastering the skill of efficiently using space for storage, being open to new people and friendships, committing to caring for others recklessly and selflessly... and even more so: being challenged in every area of my life.  I guess I imagined it would happen.  You know- that "HELLO! You are ALL alone!" feeling.  I knew it would hit me, and I knew it would hurt a bit more than I could prepare myself to endure.  But overall, God has used this time to humble me, show me my flaws in massive ways, allow me to cry, and learn exactly what "being on an adventure" is all about.  (hint- at the crux of an adventure lies the vast unknown that only exists WITHOUT a safety net.)

I'm starting to see that life has little to do with the details....(to my dismay!  I'm a detail kind of gal!).  I remember when I knew that I wasn't supposed to go to law school having a fight somewhere deep within.  One one side of this equation was a lifestyle of expensive suits, egyptian cotton sheets, the perfect guy with the perfect career, a growing 401 (k), blah blah blah.  It was filled with "things," and for whatever reason, those "things" felt very safe.  On the other side of the equation I was to move across the country, I had no immediate job, I had bills to pay without a savings to tap into to pay them, I had uncertainty, I had isolation, and I had fear.  I can honestly say that, on my own, I would have NEVER been able to pick option number two.  Too much of the unknown!  Too much fear!  Too many details with no foreseeable way to put them in place!  So, I moved across the country.  I moved into a world that I had very little power to fix or solve anything.  But the moment I thought I had moved blindly...the Lord revealed to me.... that I, in fact, had new eyes in which to view my surroundings, not less.

Have you been on a REAL adventure?  I thought I had.  I know now that i had only a taste of what a true adventure had in store.  Our LIVES should be adventures!  Adventures that have an element of complete uncertainty... that run on the fumes of faith and faith alone... and are steered by an Author of great esteem, who molds incredibly crafted characters and plots.  I have started this adventure.  I am not sure I have a great deal of wisdom in how to rock the inevitable ebb and flow of the uncertainty, but I can say... that flying by the seat of my pants is my only strategy.  I'm slowly learning how to use my heart over my head, how little "things" matter, and how important trusting in my faith is.  Yes, I am alone.  I don't have my best friends close to me.  I am void of a great deal.  But in this void....is a God so much bigger than me, a God who gave me a good heart, and a slow realization of how my passions can be used for His Kingdom.

Just a Carolina girl living an adventure.... for all the right reasons...

Kami.

God is a spitball champ.

So, I'll assume you're confused.  Why in the world would the King of all Kings know how/ be good at throwing spitballs??!!??  Yep.  He is.  And. Let. Me. Tell. You. Why.

The truth is, as horrible of an analogy as I know this is, it's literally the only one that outlines how I have felt for the past week.  God took my entire life plan.  He took it in his massively strong hands.  He ripped the pages, one by one, in teeny-tiny strips.  He then, put all those strips in His mouth, and allowed them to soak in the back awkward corners like a cow's cud.  After they were juicy enough.... He yelled my name....and... SPLAT.  SPLAT meaning: Sincerely Please Look At [the] Truth.  [So it doesn't work exactly... sue me!  It's late people!]

Truth is something I have a love/hate relationship with.  I cherish honesty.  I cherish feeding others the blatant hard truth- and make it a point to search for those words at any and all times.  That's my calling.  The problem is: I often have a more difficult time giving myself that kind of truth.  I'll make excuses, as needed.  I'll push the Holy Spirit to the back of my head... and per my usual... I keep on truckin'!  This time, God didn't give me that choice.  I couldn't be more thankful... as my depraved nature lends my head and heart to make choices that are often wrong, and off the beaten path.  Sometimes I desire that slap in the face.... and I'm thankful for  Father who knows just how to give those.  Hence the spitball analogy.

My whole life, it's been the plan to go to law school.  I was supposed to be the suit wearing, case writing, sassy arguing Elle Woods [minus the excessive pink and horrific ratdog.].  That was the path, and I was doing all I could in my feeble humanly power to push to that "goal."  Certainly there were other factors that didn't help.  I had people feed that monster.  People keep telling me how I would be a great advocate for others.  People told me that I had a linear brain that could map out all of the corners of each case, and they told me that I was smart enough to find the angle necessary to win.  People built me up, which in turn built upon this off centered ball of yarn... that when let loose... kept unraveling and unraveling and unraveling and unraveling.  This past week, I realized that I had been clinging tightly to the last foot of this yarn ball for dear life.  For one reason and one reason only:  I had no Plan B.

WHHHAAATTTTT!?!?!  I have NEVER been that girl.  Not even when I was face to face in brokenness and awfulness.  I was never the girl that did something, for no better reason, than because I didn't know what the alternative was.  And furthermore- found fear in the scary vast pit of the black infinite unknown.  What a girlie cop out?!  What horrible logic?!?  What in the world was I thinking?  I think NOW.... now I know that I simply wasn't.  I was making excuses in the name of "comfort" and "stability."  I was sacrificing those parts of me that are weird and unique and silly and beautiful... because God made them so.  I was selling my soul to the American status quo--- from fear and fear alone.

Fear is such a terrible monster.  Remember when you were little and you would snuggle up with the covers over your head when you heard a "noise" from your closet door?  That is where all of this begins.  From a young age we are programmed to hide under our covers.  Women, especially, are called to rely on others to be BRAVER than them, to check the closet for them before they relaxed their little eyes to sleep.  These small steps accumulate into the bigger issue... the issue of letting the fear of fear rule everything.  Well.  A week ago... I decided that fear deserved so much more than my timidity and nerves.... I decided that fear deserved a nice swift kick... right in the balls.  [If my mom or dad read this, I'm 100% certain that they will successfully ground me from 4 states away.  But madre y padre- I SWEAR THAT FEAR DESERVED ITTTT.  I hope you can read that in my adorable five-year-old whiney girl voice.... and find my proverbial use of the word "balls" forgivable.  :)]

So, now that fear was kicked in the balls... I have a new challenge ahead of me.  My first step was to outline the things I still "knew."  These were the things that I consistently felt called to accomplish, and even with God's drool trickling down my left cheek...still proved to be faithful.  I knew I was supposed to be in North Carolina.  I have five main reasons for this call; Hayden, Logan, Griffin, Rett, and Sydney.  My nephews and niece have been such a source of joy and I want to be close enough to them to invest in their lives.... TO REALLY INVEST... not just the twice a year kind of time.  I want to go to soccer games, help at girl scout meetings, I want to watch them when their parents need "alone time."  I want them to know that they can always call me or come to me... and that I am a safe place for them to turn.  To accomplish this- I need to be logistically closer.  So that, at least, narrowed down the state.  Instinctually, I further narrowed down the location by picking Charlotte and Raleigh/Durham in terms of most opportunity for my degrees and interests.

Are you still with me?  Are you bored?  Are you still contemplating how a strange blond girl kicks fear right in the balls?  It's fine... just go with it.

So, step three.  I made a list.  I made a list of natural gifts, of things that I love, of things that I enjoy being apart of.  Step four, has been; applying to jobs like a crazy woman in every field and industry that would satisfy the list I made.  I know it wont be satisfied in it's entirety... but it will be satisfied in the way that God has in store for me.  And the rest- I can do for fun, or for my church community.

I'm still working step four, as much as I can being three states away.  I've been so thankful for the unconditional love and support of my parents and friends.  It would be easy to assume that I've lost my marbles [I could make a valid argument for this case, as well.]....though... in so many ways... it feels like all of the proverbial "marbles" of my life have been lost... until now.  I feel like I finally have everything just as it was meant to be.  I have literally constructed what might be the worst logistical plan that I have ever put together in my entire life: a moving date.  December 10th.  I have no idea where I'll be living, what I'll be doing, what kinds of friends I'll find when I pull into my new home.  I have nothing.  Though, in my honest heart of hearts- I have the sweetest peace.  God is humbling me in big ways.  The spit still feels just as wet as when the spitball initially struck... but it's for good reason.  God is showing me reliance.  He is, in all honesty, answering prayers.  When I became a Christian less than a year ago, I have consistently asked the Lord to give me MORE faith... because it wasn't something that was natural for me.  I can't even count how many times I've prayed that prayer.  Maybe millions.  And here's the answer.... in saliva.  Spit from God, lovingly dripping down my cheeks.....

I guess, logistically, I leave Mississippi in 25 days.  I leave a place that has taught me SO much about who I am, and who I am not.  It has shown me the character of God in the faces of people.  Through Paul- God showed me His mighty strength through faith.  Through Kory- God showed me obedience.  Through my Tri Delta sisters- so many to individually name...you have shown me selfless love.  Taylor, my little, you have shown me how important it is to give those you care for "tough love," when they need it most.  Lindsay Tay- you showed me grace, and continue to. Dr. Mayfield- aside from lighting up my whole world with absolutely ridiculous phrases... you have taught me the sheer beauty in watching a man cry out to his God...you have shown me the power of redeeming love and grace.  You have shown me, through your example with Miss Sandy, how a Christian man loves a Christian woman.   Courtney Nicosia- you showed me persistent joy and how to giggle at the really lame things life sometimes brings.  Lauren Salena- you taught me the strength in loving those who can't love themselves.  Alex Donk- you showed me childlike faith.... you exhibit love and thankfulness for each of your blessings... and it has warmed my soul... and my couch.  bahahahaha.  Shawn- you have taught me the weight of "seasons."  That, as believers, we have to sometimes trust each other enough to give the other space.  Katie Anthony- you are the most internally [externally too.. but internally is WAY more important] beautiful strong young women I have ever known.  Thank you for wearing your gold jacket with that sassy Delta Gamma class. [I'm "saluting" you NOW.]  Mary Margaret- thank you for being strong enough to show me the beauty in forgiveness.  Kendall- my best friend.  I miss you terribly.  Thank you for making it ok to let my freak flag fly.  I have full confidence you'll be in my life forever and ever.  Sarah Ali-  you have taught me heartfelt dedication towards a goal.. and how little circumstances actually play a role in our lives... if we refuse to let them.  Megan Wilkyface-  The ultimate delta sis.  [I bet you gagged right there?] Thank you for always being a selfless servant in each and every way you are able to.  In the bonds.   And to my amazing Southern Miss- you have shown the glory of learning and wisdom.  You have always taught me that those things don't always come in books.  :)  Sometimes they come in the form of all night-ers with Jessica Dominguez, they come in crying in the foot of your shower, and there are even times wisdom comes from tossing back one too many cold ones.  I have surely left a million people out, and imagine that I will add 3984729347 additions to this.... but this, in the very least, scratches the surface.

Thanks for your investment in my life.  Thank you for teaching me the importance of a good hair poof, the GLORY of crawfish season, the soul of the South, and that each thing you spend time and energy on... has a lesson for you to learn from.

Just a girl, just a sojourner, just a face filled with God's spit, and a foot that showed the balls of fear what's up....

Kami