life in technicolor

Life is beautiful.

That is not to say that life is perfect, that life is easy, or that life is always good. There is pain in the fabric of our lives. We enter the world with the groans of childbirth, we face challenges that seem insurmountable. Loved ones pass away, families crumble, friends betray, dreams don't always come to pass. Life is confusing and painful and unfair. Everyday, it seems, we move further from perfection, deeper into a pit of devastation, ignoring the intentions of God for our lives. Good people suffer, hearts break, chaos surrounds us, people are hungry, people are sick, people are lost.

Tonight I sleep in my bed, but tomorrow, I could be swallowed by the earth, left as skin and bones, my soul flying to a new world. There is no promise--life is but a breath, a fleeting moment.

And still, it is beautiful.

The heartache that we feel when a loved one dies proves that life is precious, that life is sacred. The devastation caused by a broken family shows that relationships are important, that love is important. Dreams prove that our lives have meaning, that what we do matters, that we have a purpose. Our heart aches for those in suffering because we have an intrinsic understanding, a deep knowledge that life is beautiful, life is valuable, life matters.

A leper suffers in silence, stigma attached to his very being. No one will touch him, no one will hold him, no one will care for him. And yet, he smiles, and he laughs. Would laughter exist were life not beautiful?

Would color exist if not to show us the beauty of our surroundings, of art, the beauty of expression, the beauty of our souls? And don't sprinkles just make you happy?? Would humans connect so deeply to music and art, would so many have the gift of creativity if life were not, ultimately, beautiful? Would travel and adventure be so exciting if life were not to be explored and enjoyed? Would good company and good conversation bring us so much comfort and hope if life was insignificant, if people were an afterthought?

Would I have ten fingers and ten toes if this life were not made for me? Would I have eyes to see and ears to hear the majesty of the earth, the compassion in others, the love offered to me?

"Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love, to work, to play, and to look up at the stars." -Henry Van Dyke

Life is beautiful. If life were not so, flowers would wilt, music would cease; laughter would turn to tears. If life were not beautiful, the sun would cease to rise and set, the waves would cease to crash; the hope of a new morning would disappear. Food would lose its flavor, hugs would make us cringe, conversation would turn to silence; babies would no longer smile, the sky would turn black, love would lose its power.

But it is not so. Regardless of circumstance, life is beautiful. There is suffering and injustice that we were never intended to experience, that we cannot understand, that we are desperate to change. Left to our own devices, we have chosen death. And yet life is beautiful, and Beauty is redemptive, Beauty is healing.

Our God, and our hope, is found in the beauty of life; our God is found in the midst of suffering, rising the sun every morning, filling our hearts with joy, bringing beauty forth from ashes.

and the walls come tumblin' down

I have a piece of the Berlin Wall sitting on the bookshelf in my bedroom.
A piece of this wall, a wall that stood for oppression and isolation, is sitting in my bedroom, as a reminder that walls can come down.

But forty years ago, nobody would have ever imagined that this wall could come down. Nobody would have ever dreamed of seeing the other side of this dreadful wall, ever again. Nobody believed that the wall that had been so present for a lifetime, containing them, trapping them, could ever come down.

Can you imagine being born into a world, living a lifetime suffocated by the presence of such oppression? Can you imagine believing that this was normal, that this was how life was intended to be?

Can you even imagine the emotions as the wall fell? Can you imagine what it felt like to be released from the bounds of this wall, from the authority of the guards telling you that freedom was not possible? Imagine the relief as you took a sledgehamer to this wall, this prison, and watched as it crumbled before you, and freedom was, once again, yours. It's powerful, right?

History is full of reasons to hope. I keep a piece of this wall on my bookshelf, in my bedroom, as a reminder that walls can come down, that freedom belongs to those who seek it, that God is a God of liberation. He does it for nations, for people groups, and He does it for individuals, for you and me.

Everyone, I think it's fair to say, has their own wall. It's usually the one thing that keeps you from truly living, the one thing that keeps you from wholeheartedly trusting in the name of Jesus. And, it's usually monstrous and scary.

It starts when we're young and it's full--of our insecurities, our failures, our fears; full of defense mechanisms and distrust; full of bad memories and every negative thing that we've been trained to believe, about ourselves and our world. Our response to the world is conditioned by the presence of this huge, ugly thing in our lives. It's dark, it's constricting, it's awful, and yet we've never lived without it.

And God says from the very beginning that He will knock it down, as soon as we are ready to take the first swing. Our reaction is very rarely to run to the shed and get the sledgehamer; we've become so comfortable with this life, regardless of the frustration and sadness over the presence of this wall, that we cannot even understand the freedom that comes on the other side. We've never lived without this wall--so much of our identity is decided by this stupid wall.

At what point do you decide that the pain of living with this wall is less than the pain you might experience while you knock it down? When have you had enough of letting this wall dictate how you respond to the people and the circumstances in your life? When do you finally realize that the freedom that Jesus offers us is better than life?

When do you finally decide that it's time to tear down this wall and let freedom be yours?

new soul

Something new is beginning. I can feel it in my soul. Something big, something unexpected, something so necessary for my life. I think you have to let God deal with your heart, dispense of the old, before He can bring you the new.

About six months ago, something began, and continues, in part, to this day. We all have our own trials....and this is my biggest, toughest, meanest trial thus far. It sank its sharp teeth into my skin and hasn't quite let go, leaving me bleeding, leaving me feeling messy. I did not foresee it--it hit me like a train, completely out of left field, altering everything I thought I knew about myself, about others, about life, about my God. The clarity of my human weakness was, and remains, evident. Questions, doubts, intense fears came to the surface, none of which I had the answer to.

And God reveals Himself through it, slowly, painfully dealing with the mess that is my life, that is our lives. It comes in waves; like so much of life, it ebbs and flows. Some days, I wake up, sure of the hope that I have in Jesus, feeling His deep love, aware that His mercies are new every morning, confident in His strength, and His promise for redemption and restoration, not just for me, for us all. Some days, though, to put it simply, suck. Some days, I feel off, I feel distant, I feel sure that this will bury me, that there is no light at the end of this tunnel, that my lantern is about to run out of oil. I know, for certain, that my strength, my desires, my intellect, are too weak to carry me through. And I lack patience.

I lack the strength or endurance to wait for God's timing, for His will to be revealed in this, for His glory to shine through my life. I lack the ability to see the bigger picture. I want it, yes, I believe in it, but I am tired. I am exhausted of it, completely drained. I want myself back. I need something new.

Do you ever just have a moment? A moment, maybe a song, maybe a few seconds where the chaos of life fades and you feel complete Peace, and you know, His Love is real, and it offers hope, and it is strong enough to pull us out of whatever grave we've dug for ourselves. It's a moment that reminds us that there is something more, something bigger, and it's coming for us.

I had one.

I was taking a shower, iPod playing my "worship playlist" in the background. I was about ready to get out, because technically I was done. Fresh and clean. But this song came on. Rescue is Coming, by David Crowder. I sat down in the shower and let the water hit my face, wash over me. I closed my eyes and listened to the words, just listening, needing to hear from God. Needing God to speak to my heart.

And there's nothing wrong with you
And nothing left to do
But believe something bigger
And there's nothing wrong with love
I know it's just enough to believe

Don't give up now
A break in the clouds
We will be found
Rescue is coming now

God is here. And when He comes, He brings renewal, and that's what I feel. A certain newness, which, unfortunately, doesn't mean that all my troubles are gone. But Our God is faithful, and Our God promises to make us new, to put a new song in our mouth, to give us a new spirit, to wash away the old, to restore us, to give us purpose and passion.

Ezekial 36:26 "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws."

2 Corinthians 5:17 "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"

What exactly this means for my life right now, I couldn't even try to guess...God continually blows my mind, I don't even want to try and guess what is going on in His heart, because I'm usually wrong. But I can feel it stirring deep within my soul. I can feel it bubbling up within me, ready to explode out of every pore. I can feel it deep inside me, itching to come out.

I just want to get up, take my anxious energy and run until I find it. I want to run, shedding every piece of my former self until I have nothing, and from there, I will find it, this thing, whatever it is, that God has prepared for me, that I have been waiting for, that I need. I want to run until I find the heart of God, until my heart is beating in perfect unison with His. Then, I will be new.

stop this train

Take a moment to imagine me seven years ago, in my prime awkward years: huge glasses, braces color coordinated to upcoming holidays, crimped hair, Winnie the Pooh overalls, pooka shell necklace (pooka? puka? pookah???), platform shoes, book in hand.

This period of my life is known best for my crush on, we'll call him Dustin Dones, and for my geekiness. I was really into reading history books, and writing in my journal about daycare, the 12 billion guys who like me (I was oddly cocky...and surprisingly insecure...) and how prepared I was for a boyfriend. I was a wedding-loving, crush-having, science fair project-doing weirdo.

Now, I've gotten rid of the pooka shells, but not the bridal magazines; no more super-geek glasses, but I still have retainers (and a sweet lisp); I still do really dorky things, often, and I'm still absolutely a hopeless romantic. I still have insecurities that are rooted in far more than my junior high years, but insecurities seem to fade as Love comes in. I'm pretty confident that some of the desires of my heart at age twelve will remain there for eternity--they're rooted in more than junior high, too.

I'm a girl, to the core. My favorite color is purple and I have multiple playlists called "Love Songs." I talk, a lot. I love flowers and hugs and love stories. I read Redeeming Love and Captivating annually. Also, so that I can be a really good wife, I've read Wild at Heart and The Five Love Languages (I have all of them...). I still want the ultimate love story, but my idea of what that is changes almost daily. My understanding of love is changing almost daily. I think I'm changing daily, too. Weird how that happens.

Growing up is the weirdest thing that's happened to me so far. It's this completely beautiful thing mixed with so many fears, so many expectations, so many new things coming and so many old things going. Twelve year old Kara is long gone, and twenty year old Kara is just around the corner (oh my gosh). So many crushes have come and gone, and more, I'm sure, are just out there waiting for me. So many ideas, hopes and dreams have ended, many have yet to begin; some are being fulfilled right now. The past few years have been filled with so much--pain, joy, love, laughter, fear, excitement, challenges, growth. A constant, ever changing, sometimes awesome, sometimes awful, journey. My life has already been filled with so much, it's hard to even fathom what the future holds.

And now, I realize that I spend a large majority of the time thinking about my future (apparently, it's one of my strengths...), dreaming about and planning what is to come, neglecting today. I have to ask myself, why wait for the future, or spend too much time reminiscing about the past? This moment is happening, right here, right now. As for me, dorky, girly me, I intend to live it, still holding onto memories (and embarrasing humor) of the past, awaiting with hope the future, fully alive now. In the good, the bad, the painful, in the moments of frustration and in moments of joy, I'm going to live.

I'm not going to stop dreaming. The ability to dream, to hope, even in the midst of times of trial and pain is a gift that I'm not letting go of. But I'm not going to let my plans, or hopes, for the future get in the way of what God would intend for me to do today. I have faith that everything else will fall into place in God's timing.

catastrophe and the cure

I'm sitting on the couch right now. In my headphones, Explosions in the Sky is playing. Inside, It All Feels The Same.

I have this Garden State-esque feeling, the one where Zach Braff's character is sitting in the plane, with mass chaos surrounding him, as his world crashes down around him, and he just sits, numb, immobile. Except I don't feel numb, and I don't feel immobile. But I'm sitting on this couch and I feel as if it's just me and this song, which, by now, has changed. Home.

These songs are so mellow, I'm surprised it doesn't put me to sleep. But it never does. It never has, and probably never will. There's something in these songs--they excite me, they motivate me, they make me want to do something. It's like, when I picture my life, this is the soundtrack.

At first, it's just the guitar, some light picking. Then, strings. I have no idea how they do it, what instruments they're actually using...With no real pattern, except they are there, it's beautiful, and here I am, thinking about my life, thinking that this song completely describes how I'm feeling at this moment, except with no words, just the guitar, the bass, and a few strings.

Maybe there's something wrong with me, but my heart starts to go....it's beating fast, I swear, the whole couch is shaking because my heart is beating so hard. It's beating, and pumping blood, and it is exactly in tune with this song. It's beating along with the guitar and the strings and the wordless melody is playing in my head. And I'm thinking, this song doesn't need words because it's the soundtrack to my life. Every part of my life.

This song is when I'm bursting with passion, exploding with excitement, ready to face anything. I want to get up and run, or dance, or sing, or just go.
This song must be what it's like to fall in love.
This song is when I feel so close to God.
This song is pain; this song is insecurity; this song is fear.
This song is joy; this song is trust; this song is taking the next step.
This song is when I'm exhausted, ready to collapse, ready to give up.
This song is peace.

This song is my life. And it doesn't need words, because somehow all the parts come together, all the instruments join together, and it speaks for itself.

my body is a cage

If I could just touch your cloak, and be freed from my sorrow;
if I had faith enough to reach out and be set free.
My mind and my body may ever fail me, yet you call me into you, saying,
"Daughter, come in Love," and, "Child, Go in peace."

Twelve years of suffering released in one moment.
One moment of fear, one moment of redemption,
following in the train of your glory.

"Who touched my clothes," you asked as your mercy fell upon me.
"Who touched me?," again, and I could feel your deep love.

How could I not fall at your feet, shaking in awe...?

One word you spoke and I knew that I was yours:
"Daughter" you called me, and I was white as snow.

One sentence in the midst of thousands, and my life is forever changed.
You looked for me in the midst of a crowd.
You spoke to me though the work was already done.
You felt it in Your body, in Your hands and in Your feet;
the weight of Your glory, now I feel it in mine.

Now I go, I go in peace.

If I could just touch your cloak and be freed of my sorrow;
if I had faith enough to reach out and be set free.

**Mark 5:25-34

what's in store

I have this list, and it keeps growing. Mostly it grows at night, when I can't sleep. As I lie awake thinking, my mind, and my heart think up dreams I never knew I actually had, and suddenly, they become a priority. So I have this list, and I’m convinced that it’s not just for fun, but this list is a necessity for my life.

It's a list of "I wants..." I don't know if they'll ever be fulfilled, but they're fun to think about, and hope for as I try to figure out what I'm actually going to do with my life...

write a book I really like books. I'm convinced that I'll use every last dime that I have at Barnes & Noble. About a month ago, this one popped into my head. Ever since I could read, I've loved it, but I'd never dreamed of writing, until one day, I just wanted to...I have no idea where it came from and I have no topic in mind, just this desire…

own my own bookstore I already have all the plans drawn up in my head. It will be a bookstore/coffee shop with big lush couches that you sink into, curl up with a cup of tea and a blanket and lose yourself in a book. It will have beautiful bookshelves with ladders like in "Beauty and the Beast" and only the best books--new and used; it will have book clubs and meeting places, live music and art...maybe even art shows. And, in my imagination, it has brick walls...I don't know why, it just does. I know I have a lot of friends that don't necessarily like to read, but it's okay, you're invited too.

write a song my friends do this all the time and make it look so easy, but I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Maybe eventually.

fall in love and I want to remember every single detail from the first awkward moments to the cute things that are ridiculous to remember, but that I've absolutely freaked out about. Maybe this is too girly, or too old fashioned, but I want to be pursued; I want to scrapbook about it and write letters and get really excited about things that are so trivial, but so fun.

get a new last name shocking, I know…I want to be married.

get married well, yes, there’s a difference. I want to be married, but I also want to get married…I want to have the tents and the lanterns; it has to be outdoors, in the countryside or on top of some beautiful rolling hills. I can't give away too many details because I'm actually afraid that somebody will steal my ideas...

learn I want to major and minor in a billion things because I can't make up my mind. I don't want people to ask me what my plans are because, to be completely honest, I don't have any. I'm learning to embrace the uncertainty...I just want to keep learning...

teach I want to Teach for America. Or I want to Teach for any country, really.

babies I want to take care of babies. I want to go abroad with no return ticket; I want to love people. And I don't know what that means, but in my mind, it means hugs and laughter and holding babies and talking with young girls, and reminding people of their inherent worth and dignity.

find adventures I want to be adventurous, all the time. I want to stay up late and get up early, and learn to not be tired. I want to go sailing, and scuba diving, kayaking and river rafting, rock climbing and skydiving. I never want my life to be mundane--I want it to be spontaneous and ridiculous. I want to go whale watching and backpacking; I want to go to the opera, learn how to cook, take salsa lessons, make art, create stuff, explore different cultures and experience every facet of life.

I just want to live the best life that I can and I think that the ever-growing list is helping me get there.

the curse of being in love

Love is a funny thing. There are so many facets to love, so many qualities to it that we could just never understand. I feel like God has been teaching me about how to love forever. I don't know if I'll ever truly get it. On the opposite end of the spectrum, fear is a funny thing, too. I mean, it's really not that funny...it's more obnoxious than anything. And yet, even being fully aware of this, how often do we allow fear to control our lives, to dictate our relationships, to decide how we feel and how we act, to keep us from being open, from being vulnerable, from taking risks?

"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."
Proverbs 4:23

How much guarding have we been doing? How many walls have we put up around our hearts, our source of life, our one source of true connection with others, with God?

I get nervous about this, because I am continually learning about how important our hearts are, how much God cares about my heart, and how God is going to use my heart in His Kingdom; I get nervous because there is a difference between being careful with your heart, and being closed with your heart; I get nervous because I've put up so many walls to keep the bad out, which is important, but without even knowing it, these same protective walls have kept so much else out--so many potentially great things, so many people, and I think, sadly, that I've even locked God out of my heart on occasion.

And I think that if our guarding, our protective barriers, have the ability to keep things out, they also have the ability to turn on us, and destroy our ability to let our hearts do their jobs: to give life.

If we are so busy fearing and avoiding the unknown, the risky, the things that have the potential to hurt, we can't see that these same things, these scary things, are the same things that God would ask us to grab onto, and to run towards with our entire lives, with all of our hearts. God's greatest commandment to the world is simple, and terrifying: love. everyone.

Love is this incredible gift, this wonderfully beautiful ideal, that we are to share with everybody- friends, family, neighbors, spouses, even the people that we've barely just met. But I'm just going to be honest, it is scary. It is so vulnerable, and so naked. But it is so necessary. When we offer our hearts, hearts that have been redeemed and refined by Jesus, we offer life, and, I'm slowly learning, it's worth the risk. And when I say slowly, I really really mean it. I'm talking like a turtle's pace...

It's scary like the feeling when you move from having a crush on somebody to actually liking them and it moves from just being fun to being real; it's scary like when you actually start caring about a friend or a particular situation--your heart breaks when their heart breaks, you are burdened for them, you can no longer separate yourself from them...it's no longer just about you.

With all of this guarding, all of this closed-off-ness, it is so easy to confuse our fear with God's voice, or God's will. Where God would say, "Yes, open your heart to love and be loved," we interpret our fears and doubts as God saying, "No, not now, not yet..." or as God saying that we are no longer responsible for His greatest commandment, which, after writing it, just seems ridiculous.

Sometimes the risk is minimal, and that's awesome because it's not really that scary and it's really no biggie--maybe you just make a phone call or send a little text message. Sometimes the risk is far from minimal, and it's painful, and hard, and it's the best expression of love that we can muster up, and it gives life, and hope. But if nobody can see your heart, can feel your love, and experience the life that you have to give, then what is the point?

I'm going to steal a quote from "To Write Love on Her Arms:"

"Love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding...Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter...I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless...We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home."

You know those people in your life that are just really really great at loving people, and you just don't really even understand? It just doesn't make sense because they seem so courageous and brave and still so whole, not broken, which is what I think we all fear. I think when you're seeking God and loving how He says to love and living in His will, then He takes care of the rest. If you can believe it (sometimes I can't), He cares more about your heart than you do. And, even better, perfect Love drives out all fear. whoa.