a kind word

Today I was given a compliment and it completely brightened my day. So later in the day, and not even necessarily on purpose, I did the same thing. I gave a compliment to someone who immediately told me that they needed to hear those words. 

Your words have value. What you say to someone holds weight for them. You can change a person's entire day with just a few uplifting words.

If you have something nice to say, say it. Interrupt a conversation to tell someone that their hair looks beautiful. Stop someone walking by to tell them that you like their style. Send your friend a text to let them know that you appreciate their cheerfulness or their thoughtfulness or graciousness. Tell your mother that her wrinkles are beautiful. Let your child know that their artwork is the the most amazing thing you've seen. 

Don't hesitate. That person needs to hear your words. Go ahead: make their day.

KC

By the way, you have a beautiful smile! 😄

invested friends

Yep, I'm back! I went on a most wonderful visit to Canada to spend time with my husband's side of the family. I was spoiled by some amazing cousins and aunts and uncles. And I took a mental break from everything!! If you missed me, I'm sorry! If you didn't miss me, then I'm not sure why you're reading my blog right now....

Over the past few months I've realized a valuable thing about friendships. Something that I probably should have realized a lot sooner than now....but I guess better late than never!

I noticed that all of my close friends are different from each other. I guess I don't necessarily get close to a specific type of person. But you know what all my close friends have in common? They take time for me. They are interested in me. They like me because I am me (not sure on the grammar there, but I think you get it). They don't like because because of what they can get from me or what I can can give them or do for them. They have chosen to make me an important part of their life. 

Do you understand how valuable that is? Non-conditional friendship. They like me despite my failings, even when I do stupid things. They pick me up when I fall and listen to my complaints and frustrations. I don't have to pretend because they aren't judging me. I can be myself comfortably because I am secure in our friendship. 

And you know what that type of friendship does for me? It makes me want to go above and beyond for those people. To show them just how much I appreciate their gift of friendship to me. 

Oh boy. I just made another connection. Here goes: 

You know, I think many people are mistaken in the aspect of our relationship with Christ. He's not looking to get anything from us. His relationship with us is not conditional on how great or perfect we are. His gift, his relationship (through salvation) has never been something that can be earned. He gives it simply because we ask.

And we don't have to repay Him by being perfect. We don't have to repay Him at all! 

But, a truly grateful heart will want to go above and beyond for Him, just to show Him how much His gift means to them. 

Wow. Deep stuff for a jet-lagged mind at midnight. I'm quite certain I hear my bed calling my name!

KC

give

My parents taught me many great lessons as a kid. Sometimes they would talk me through a situation. Other times they taught through example. I was very fortunate to have two parents who had their heads on straight and who always inclined their ears to God.

Both my parents were very hard workers. Dad had a job or two or three. My Mom did an excellent job as a housewife and mother and then eventually as a librarian. 

But it wasn't just in employment that they did their hard work. It was in everything. When they helped out a neighbor or volunteered for their churches or our school. If someone was in need, my parents were there. And they were always giving their best for whomever needed them. 

That's hard to come by these days. People have a bunch of excuses: they don't have the right skills. They are selfish with their time. They have no desire to be helpful. They are too busy (that sounds like me!) They don't have enough money to give.

I have been fortunate to have a few very close friends who give of their time for me (and others) on a regular basis. These people, along with my parents, constantly remind me of the value of giving yourself to others. 

Now this is just my opinion, but I happen to think it's a good one:

I don't believe that God created me so that I could get everything I ever wanted out of life, always thinking only of myself. I believe that I was created to give. To do for others. To sacrifice my time, money, and effort for whomever God points out to me.

Acts 20:35 "Jesus said: it is more blessed to give than to receive."

I know this is more easily said than done. But I think it helps to start looking for needs and then start fulfilling them. My parents were great at that. Someday I hope my kids will say the same thing about me.

KC

i'm with God

I questioned this today.

I looked at my failures and shortcomings and told myself that surely I'd never be more than what I was. 

And in that instant, I put limitations on God.

How stupid could I be?!

My God, He's huge. He's amazing. He does great things with people who allow Him to do so.

Me? I'm unworthy...all by myself. But, I'm not by myself. I'm with God. He's working in me and through me and who am I to stop Him by telling Him my limitations?!

You wonder what your purpose is? Why you are here? What you can do with this life you are living? I wonder that about myself too.

But let's stop. Let's just put our faith in the fact that a God knows. Let's trust Him to work it out how He wants and when He wants.

That's a whole lot easier than taking that responsibility on all by ourselves.

But we can rest assured knowing that there IS a plan and that Someone has got it all figured out for us. I'm glad He's in charge, because I would mess up the entire plan!

KC

20. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, 21. Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen. 

Ephesians 3:20-21

becoming me

A few years back I made a realization: I didn't know who I was outside of being a wife and especially being a mom. There is nothing wrong with finding your identity in being a wife and mom. But for me, a part of me was missing.

So you know what I did? I began to search out who I was and started becoming her. 

I embraced my piano playing again.

And started teaching piano lessons.

I started a small business. (Very small - I don't have time for anything but a teeny business!)

I took a leadership role in our local MOMS Club.

I became a CrossFit trainer.

I ran my first (and currently only) half marathon.

I started substitute teaching.

I got in the habit of saying yes to risks and adventures instead of always saying no.

I worked at developing new friendships.

I became more open, honest, and out-going with people.

I started writing music.

And started this blog.

I took more chances and ended up with great memories because of those choices.

I looked at who I wanted to become and then started.

Often times I was pushed outside of my comfort zone. Talking to people I didn't know. Being a leader when I used to have no confidence. Taking on challenges that I knew could possibly fail. Saying, "Sure, why not?! That could be fun!" Sometimes it was hard work. Some things took a lot of time. Physically I've pushed passed limits that I had put in front of me. But more importantly, mentally I became stronger. 

I decided it is more fun to live life taking chances and experiencing new things than to do the same ol', same ol'. The memories I will have. The stories I will tell. And I kinda figure that the more experiences I have in life, the more ways and options God can use me in someone else's life.

I'm still not exactly who I want to be, but I figure that's going to take a lifetime to accomplish. And that's okay with me - it'll be fun getting there!

KC

mental pictures

When our family goes for a bike ride, my husband usually takes the lead, the kids are in the middle and I always take up the rear. The mommy in me wants to make sure everyone crosses the street safely, that no one falls down, and that I keep my eyes on them at all times.

But I have realized that I rather enjoy riding in the back of the pack. I get to go at a leisurely pace and watch my kiddos riding along in front of me. Those little legs just peddling along. My son doing his little jumps up the curb. My daughter's hair streaming behind her...

I'm often told by the older generation to enjoy this time with my kids as they will grow up and be out of the house so quickly. So I do. 

In moments like these I take mental pictures, not just of the images of my kids, but the emotions that I feel as I watch them. I want to remember what my little ones look like, but also the feelings that only a mother can have toward her beloved children.

Perhaps that's how one "treasures these things up in her heart," as Mary did...

KC

an amazing privilege

A dear friend of mine posted a status update on Facebook today. She mentioned losing a few of her friends over the past few weeks. One of which she sat with as the friend passed on to heaven. What an amazing person to be at death's door with a friend. It brought to mind something I've been meaning to share but just hadn't done so yet. I guess I was just waiting for the right time.

When my Dad was sick, eventually we knew he wasn't going to live here on this earth much longer. We resigned ourselves (with much emotion) that we were on our way to saying our good-byes. While Dad was still at home in his bed, sometimes I would just go and sit with him to give my mom some much needed respite. I would spend a night or two also, so that my mom could sleep without worrying about him trying to get out of bed. He had the determination, he simply no longer had the strength.

During these times, I feared that I might be the one who was with him when he died. I even voiced it out loud to my Mom that I had no desire to be there when that happened. Perhaps I was worried that it would make death too real. Or bring me face to face with "the other side." I don't know exactly why, but it left me a bit creeped out to even think about it. 

My Dad ended up in a hospice house. It was a beautiful place. If I'm not mistaken, my Dad was there about 10 days. My husband and I spent Easter Sunday there with my Mom. My Dad was mostly incoherent. We went to a brunch that they were serving. It was April 8th.

On April 9th, in the evening, I called one of my brothers and asked that he go with me to go visit Dad. It was an urge I had to follow. He drove me the 40 minutes it took to get there. My Mom was there, she rarely left as we knew he was nearing the end. 

My brother and I sat on opposite sides of my Dad as his breathing slowed. At one point, my Mom left to get a nurse because there was so much time between breaths. She walked out of the room and my brother and I watched my Dad's chest. It stopped. It didn't start again. 

After a pause my brother looked at me and said, "He's gone." 

I started to cry. My brother told me, "Right now, Dad is up in heaven getting his crown." 

At that moment, I was given a little glimpse of what heaven will be like. I felt like I was at the back of a crowd, a crowd that was cheering loudly and joyfully for the man who had just arrived and was getting his crown of jewels. 

My Mom says when she walked into the room, I was sobbing with the biggest smile on my face. The emotion that I was feeling was truly out of this world. A mix of earthly sorrow and heavenly joy.

What a gift!

What a privelege.

(Even as I write this, I can feel my breath being caught up in my chest - you ever had that feeling?!)

God knew what He was doing when He prodded me to go visit Dad. He wanted me to experience the privelege of having a dear saint pass from this earth to God's incredible heaven. It was the most beautiful experience I have ever had. 

I was standing at heaven's door. And it was amazing.

KC

(Found this just this afternoon in a drawer somewhere, after I had decided to write this post. That's my Dad.)