BeAuTy Roots

God has been digging up some very deep roots the last couple months of my life concerning physical beauty. I didn’t realize how deep these roots of deceit were. I thought these issues were merely a few weeds and had been pulled up and chucked about 2 years ago. I was wrong.

For starters it is extremely difficult for women today not to become obsessed with their outer appearance when the world is constantly telling us that this is what we are supposed to spend all of our money and time “improving”. As women we have been given a desire to feel beautiful but we have distorted this desire by overspending, over exercising, and over analyzing. I could not be found more guilty of this abuse. Yep, been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. Anyone feeling me?

These are some of the pressures I felt...

In high school was when this pressure was the heaviest. I was a big fan of Grey's Anatomy and People magazine. Through the media and my peers I had developed this standard. I had to have the high-end, department store, name brand makeup, full head of highlights (that would cost me an average of $140 every 5 weeks and I religiously stuck to that time frame), and the name brand clothes (Target and Old Navy just didn't cut it). I had developed this image as the cute blond girl who could “work” an outfit. And then their were formals. You have to get the dress (usually the one that showed the most skin), the shoes, the hair (extensions were all the rage) the makeup, the mani and pedi, AND the tan. Can we seriously talk about tanning for a sec?! Sophomore year I became a fan of the airbrush (airbrush=no cancer). At first I would wear my swimsuit while the lady sprayed me but then as I became more comfortable, I would just wear a thong. I remember her talking about other girls bodies that she sprayed and compared them to mine. She told me I had a good butt, nice abs and just needed a boob job. My mother doesn’t even know that. From that day on I was planning on saving up to get a boob job before college. Vowing that I would NEVER ever wear a sports bra. And then spending WAY too much money on expensive padded bras-my favorite was a water bra. I eventually got into the tanning bed thing. UV lights can truly become addicting. That was my senior year, the same time I was on accutane. That’s a deathly combination if you didn’t know. “Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of you mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is-his good, pleasing and perfect will.” –Romans 12:2

Deep roots.

My hair has been every color of the rainbow. My hair was platinum blond all through high school but when I came to college as God began to transform my heart, He showed me that I found so much of my identity in my hair color. In response I dyed it dark brown. Then this last summer I decided to begin the process back to my natural so I could get a less extreme version of blond highlights over that (I've always had this extensive plan for my hair). Well I have been natural for about three months but kind of want some highlights now and so I’m asking God about it, for the first time. And He has challenged me with these questions: Why can’t I be okay with the natural hair color He has given me? Can’t I see that I haven’t ever been satisfied when I have changed my hair color before? I don’t really have the money. The truth is when I examine my heart, I want my hair to be blonder so I can turn more guys heads. Is that my goal? Do I want that to be my focus when I’m walking to class? (Disclaimer: I don’t believe highlights are wrong in and of themselves but if they are causing you to focus on yourself more than your Savior (like me) they become an issue.) “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”-Hebrews 12:1

God, in His grace, continued to dig…

I’ve previously talked about my experience as a Pine Cove counselor (go read that blog if you haven’t :)). Part of the challenge for me was not wearing makeup. A challenge that I was excited about but didn’t realize how hard it would really be. I found myself wanting to go put on makeup when I was struggling with a camper or another counselor or a spiritual issue. It would make me feel a little better. I found rest there. After digesting my camp experience it was very clear to me that I had not completely dealt with this beauty root. “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him”. –Psalm 62:1

Here’s another BIG root for ya….

I’ve had issues with my skin since fourth grade. Not even exaggerating. Fourth grade-first time I went to the dermatologist. I’ve used every cream and taken every pill out there. My senior year of high school I took accutane and I had very successful results from it. It wasn’t until the end of last semester when my skin began to break out very badly, the first time since I had been on accutane. I began to go to a dermatologist in College Station and immediately told her that I wanted to do accutane again. She told me that she didn’t think I really needed something that strong and that my risks of future liver damage would increase, since I had done it before. She wouldn’t let me start it until this semester because I needed to be in town. A week before I was supposed to start it I began to feel very uneasy about my decision. I felt distant from God in my quiet times. My roommate had been hinting that this might not be the best decision. I filled my prescription. The next day I went home for the weekend and it came up at dinner. I had previously just talked to my mom about it, assuming my dad would be fine with it too. Well, they were not on the same page and after dinner my dad showed me articles of patients who filed lawsuits against this prescription because of the severe health problems they have now. The original form of this medicine is actually banned form being sold in the US. The guilt was overtaking me and I knew I had to be obedient. God showed me a way out and I took it, finally. I was thankful later for my roommate who challenged me with the question, “Why do you think God gave you the skin He did?” Well dang, I’ve been asking that my whole life! Then I thought, leprosy. The story in Luke 17 of Jesus healing 10 lepers but only one of them comes back to thank Jesus for this miracle. Jesus responds that his faith has made him well. My whole life I’ve turned from one drug to the next to heal my skin and complaining about it all along but this time I chose righteousness instead of believing the lie, once again, that this medicine would heal me. It’s crazy but ever since, my skin has been extremely clear and I’m just praising God for that blessing. I’m not sure how long it will last but I am convinced that the only medicine I need is faith given by the true healer. This, I believe, is what God wanted me to learn. “A woman who fears the Lord is to be praised”. -Proverbs 31:30

Through this painful uprooting the Lord has urgently impressed upon me that everything is spiritual (deep, right?). The world will not know that I no longer live if I look like the world. This is a hard truth. Good things that I've distorted. Sins that I’ve identified myself with for so long but God is graciously opening my eyes. As women I don’t think we will ever stop being tempted with “products” that promise to make us more beautiful. I don’t think we will ever have a perfect perspective on beauty until heaven. Until we meet the creator of beauty. But I do know that God wants to continue to refine us while we are on earth. To transform our thoughts so we will have the strength to live counter cultural. To allow ourselves to feel ugly so we will know are creator more intimately. So turn off the TV, put down the magazines and open the Word and allow your mind to be permeated with TRUTH because the world needs to know that He’s REAL and He wants to use us.

p.s. I began running (more about that up next) about 2 years ago and fell in LOVE with sports bras :)

Feeling Crafty? (I always am)

I'm usually very motivated when it comes to crafts. (My roommates can testify to this). I lye awake at night dreaming of things to decoupage. I am easily distracted while driving when I see an antique store or yard sale sign. (Seriously glad I'm still alive). Hobby Lobby is the best thing thats ever happened to me (next to Jesus Christ saving my soul). When I have a vision, watch out. Some how I'm gonna figure out how to create it, paint it, glue it, nail it, sew it...until school happens, I'm broke and there's just no time for my creative juices to be juiced.

My roommate found this beautiful old french door at an antique store last summer and I had this idea to use it to frame black and white pictures in each pane and then to write scriptures with a paint pen in other panes. Well....I FINALLY FINISHED IT!








Another project I recently completed was a patio art piece. I had been on the hunt for an old window for months. And I was not about to pay $50 for one on Craigslist. On my way back to College Station this summer I was driving through one of the small towns where you have to slow down to like 5 mph. Thankfully I chose to obey the law that day, slowed down and spotted....ANTIQUES. I instantly felt a rush. My heart started pumping. I couldn't resist the temptation. I HAD to pull over and take a quick peak inside. Now let me explain, I'm not a fan of the expensive, finished, fine furniture, Antique Roadhouse kind of stuff. I'm more of a flea market collectibles kind of girl. These markets usually sell anything if it's at least 10 years old, are very hard to get around in and you get to BARGAIN! Side note: I'm a bargaining PRO. Learned from my momma (she got my prom dress for free). ANYWAYS, this one in the small little town that I don't remember the name of...perfection. It had stuff piled to to the ceiling. Tables that with one coat of paint and some distressing could make great couch side pieces. Vintage mirrors that when hung together could create a chic eclectic look. Most people would see piles of "junk" but I saw piles of potential. After rummaging through stuff for about 30 minutes I had found many treasures but no old windows. I then asked the owner If he had any. He went upstairs and came down with the most perfectly old, chipped paint, 4 paned vintage window! (Guys, they don't even make 4 pane windows anymore). I was ecstatic. AND it was $5. Yep you read that right. FIVE DOLLARS (thanks to my bargaining skills). Soon this is what became of it:





tip: Antique buttons can get pricey. They sell a big bag of a great variety of them at Hobby Lobby for $7 but most of mine came from a friend. So ask your friends, neighbors, sisters, aunts, mama, and memaw. These buttons are the true beauties.

I also learned how to make the most adorable Anthropologie looking flower headbands from other camp counselors this summer. (These headbands are all the rage at Pine Cove Outback). So cute yet so cheap!

Step one: Go buy some cloth or plastic headbands from Wal-mart.

Step two: Pick out your fav printed fabrics. It's good to get fabrics that coordinate with each other if you want different flowers on the same headband.

Step three: Rip 3/4 inch strip of your first fabric (you want one edge to be torn). Next roll one end of the strip hot dog style and hot glue.

Step four: Begin to twist that end and hot glue what will be the middle of the spiral flower. Your strip of fabric should take on a rope like shape.

Step five: Continue to twist and glue until the spiral flower is the desired size.

Step six: Repeat until you have the number of flowers you want for your headband. Then just hot glue them on.

Your results should look something like this:




HAPPY CRAFTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had the privilege of being a camp counselor at Pine Cove Outback for the last six weeks. I was given the name "Kapowski" after being asked what my favorite 90's TV show was and replied that I "loved" Saved By the Bell (you can't deny, that Zach Morris was SUCH a hunk). Most of the time my girls couldn't say my name so I got, "Miss Plakowski", "Miss Kaplowski", "Mommy", "K-Pow" or (my favorite) "teacher". My experience as a counselor is still digesting. These are my raw thoughts...

The first week of camp I had eight 6th grade girls and immediately begun to feel the pressure of my responsibility as their counselor. I had to figure out how to balance the role of their authority, friend, spiritual leader, entertainer, encourager and comforter. For some it was very obvious that discipline wasn't part of their upbringing. Everything they wanted was handed to them on a silver platter. Flashbacks of my childhood flooded my head and consumed me with guilt. Though disciplined some, I could hear the empty threats ringing in my ear and see my acts of persistent scheming until my parents gave in. I had a skewed view of discipline until college. It's a daily challenge still to accept God's discipline and to practice self-discipline. I fight the urge everytime I go home and know exactly what buttons to push to get my parents to give me what I want. God continues to graciously transform my mind. He's shown me the light in that discipline is for those that He loves. One night when the girls were getting ready for a theme night I told them they had to stop fixing their hair or we would be late for dinner. They began to mutter under their breath that I was “mean”. I didn't know these words could hurt so much coming from a 12 year old. I could handle them refusing to obey for a short time but name calling was taking it to another level. I was "Kapowski"! Their counselor! The person they were supposed to want to grow up and be! (I'm laughing as I type this because I know what's ahead). The theme in bible study that week was "Standing Up in a Sit Down World", summarizing God's words from Matthew 5:11-15. I felt like a camper reminding myself that I am blessed when insulted and persecuted for doing God's will (Matt. 5:11). God's words helped me see past the insult. Later that night I redeemed myself when I pulled out my purple and pink tie-dye chi. "Oh man where did you get your chi???" Emily exclaimed. Tie-dye chi=coolest person ever.

The next three weeks I had 3rd grade girls. Thank goodness boys, makeup and attitudes were gone. 3rd grade girls do not have a care in the world and it was a beautiful thing to see them enjoying their unique personality, not feeling the pressure to conform yet. They are amused by simple things like games where you act like you have no teeth and dance parties to VeggieTales songs. I will remember B-Rylie and her yellow sunglasses. Every time I saw her she had those shades on. Even during worship at night. She could've slept with them on and I don't think I would've noticed. Showers were a challenge. I don't really know what 3rd grade girls think that they are supposed to do in the shower cause they would never remember to bring anything with them. "Yes honey you need your shampoo AND a bar of soap AND a towel AND a washcloth AND yes, even a change of clothes." Good mother practice I know. I loved hearing their thoughts. I will never forget 9 year old Bailey waking me up her first night at camp saying, "Miss Plakowski, I can't go to sleep I'm too excited about tomorrow". Or Carrie who told me she was allergic to adults. I asked if I was an adult and her response, "No, only married people are."Oh okay good (K, K, K-K-K, Ohhhhhhhhh K). Oh man, and the questions they ask! Bailey was very intrigued with the story of Adam and Eve. When I explained to her that God took a rib from Adam to make Eve she asked, "Does that mean that girls have one less rib then boys?" Then I was telling her about Eve eating from the tree of knowledge, bringing sin into the world and suddenly realizing she had no clothes on. She paused, looked at me and said, "Does that mean God wanted us to be naked?" I had to be careful how I answered that one. That was only a taste of the infinite questions they asked. It was a testimony to me to see them craving spiritual milk. The younger girls were definitely a delight but at the same time I really struggled with getting on their level, engaging them in bible study and just being silly with them. I knew that I naturally relate to people on a very deep level but I didn't think it would hinder me as much as it did. The other part of me is just prideful and feels ridiculous when trying to be silly. God didn't like my excuses. I just needed to relax, enjoy who I am, not be afraid to admit my struggles/unashamed to ask questions. I needed to cast my cares onto Him and stop thinking I should have it all together or get too caught up in following the rules that I miss moments to giggle. I needed to take on the very nature of my 3rd graders. This is what it looked like to have a child like heart and God was asking me to embrace it.

Week 9 I had 4th grade girls and that was when exhaustion hit me. I began to lose my voice. I wasn't focused. I had to pick up rocks for the first time (form of discipline). I cried for the first time. I felt like a bad counselor. I felt like I wasn't making an impact. I felt like I wasn't bonding with my girls. I believed these emotions were truth and allowed myself to feel defeated. One of my girls, Megan, presented a challenge from the beginning. She was never ready on time. She always wanted to go to the nurse or wanted me to tie her shoes for her, even though completely capable. It took her a while to do what was asked of her and she had trouble paying attention during bible study. Needless to say I was annoyed with her. She would also have dreams at night where she would sleep talk or sometimes cry out or wail. Her dad warned me about them so I wasn't worried but I definitely woke up when they happened. Usually they were very short so I would quickly fall back asleep. One night her cry was louder and longer then before so I got up to see if she was okay. She told me that her stomach and head hurt and so at 3am we went to the nurse’s office. Megan was really freaking out and then was stubborn and wouldn't take the medicine she was given. She begged for water and made herself throw it up. I was so confused until the nurse pulled me aside and told me that her dramatic behavior was probably because she took anti-anxiety pills and they had worn off. Shock and emotion overtook me. How could a girl so young have to take that kind of medicine?! I suddenly felt this burden to speak truth into her life. I remembered that she came from a broken home. Megan stayed in the nurse that night and I went back to the cabin with a new heaviness on my heart. The next day I lost my voice completely. My burden for Megan was growing as our one on one time was approaching. During worship I felt utterly helpless as I couldn’t even sing to God or maybe couldn’t cry out myself. But I desperately needed to be silenced. Not just my voice, but my thoughts and emotions as well. God whispered “just come to me with your heart and know that my love is steadfast”. My verse for that week, Isaiah 41:10 comforted me. “So do not fear for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” I breathed out as the tears rolled down my cheek. I am so sure that Gods words were spoken during our one on one the next day, the hard part being Megan barely looked into my eyes. She told me she hadn’t learned anything new that week…I had to be okay with this. God didn’t promise that I would see fruit. He didn’t promise that I would FEEL okay with everything, but He dose promise that HE is enough.

Week 10 I had 6th graders again. A very special group of girls it was. At that point I felt like I finally believed that God had equipped me, through His strength, to do this job. He gave me an intentional heart that week and my prayer was just that I would love these girls the way they needed to be loved, feel their pain and meet them where they are. It was incredible to see God give them such a hunger for truth where I could share more of my personal experiences of God interruptions with them. I could relate to them better then any other cabin. Such an answer to prayer. God built my confidence this week and helped me believe that I could truly lead people. They had such a desire to learn and grow (can you say CQ phrase?). Sarah released her fear of her parents’ possible divorce and trusted Christ for the first time. God gave Ashlon a desire to speak truth to her Jewish step mom. Amanda trusted Christ for the first time and now wants to talk to her two Mormon friends. Ashlee believes that God will answer her prayer for strong Christian friends at her new middle school. Maddy realized that she could share Christ with her friends by acting out a play when they come over to her house. Abby learned what it meant to surrender all and trusted Christ for the first time. God is good.

God knew I needed that week 10 of encouragement, for nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to experience during week 11, my final week. I was so sure I was going to be on work crew because I hadn’t had it yet. I was mentally and spiritually ready to check out. But God had a different plan then I did (usually the case). Yep, I had a cabin. Week 11 looks a little different then the other weeks because the kids are on scholarship from West Dallas from a ministry called Mercy Street. The man that started it, Tray Hill, had been in the business world for 12 years living the American dream and God gave him a vision. A vision to move into a community in west Dallas and transform the neighborhood through the gospel of Christ by meeting physical and spiritual needs of the community. Knowing coming into week 11 that it would be a brand new challenge terrified me. I was ready to go home and knew it would have to be all God this week because I had nothing left to give. I was thrilled to hear that a mercy street staff member would be in the cabins with us to help. My main prayer that week was that I would be able to love the girls no matter how they respond to me. I had four 4th grade girls, Lamoyah, Idesia, Jashelle and Olivia (the director’s daughter). And a mercy street staff member and her daughter. I soon learned that my girls had very strong personalities. At dinner that night Idesia threw a fit when I made her drink her water (every camper has to drink one glass of water per meal). She hated the way it tasted (like good ‘ol college station water) and spit it back into the cup. I told her we weren’t leaving the table until she drank all of it, backwash and all. Then she spit it out on the floor. I got my senior counselor to assist me. It was only Sunday and I was already praying for patience. That night was miserable trying to fall asleep because the girls blatantly disregarded my directions to be quiet. I also found out that the mercy street staff member had never worked with girls in west Dallas but was only familiar with boy issues because her husband was a mentor. Great news. The next morning my senior counselor urged me to set firm boundaries for them. This was difficult because I naturally have a soft voice, am patient and have a more gentle approach. That wasn’t going to fly in the Hood. These kids are taught that you have to be ready to defend yourself verbally and physically. They cut each other down with their words, never holding their razor tongue. They don’t know how to be vulnerable and let their guard down. My girls would complain every minute that they were hungry or too hot or wanted to go home or didn’t like the food or didn’t want to sit down or do bible study. Completely ungrateful. Never satisfied. Every breath was a prayer. Lord you give strength to the weary and increase the power of the weak. The first incident with Jashelle happened while I was working at archery. Apparently she had a “freak out” at the swimming pool and wouldn’t put her clothes on when it was time to switch. Her mentor informed me that she has some major mental issues and severe ADD and to find her if there is another incident. I was surprised because I hadn’t noticed any signs of this behavior the first day (besides disrespect, which all of the girls contributed to). Well that night during showers Jashelle had forgotten her towel and change of clothes so I told her that she could just wrap her dirty clothes around her to get her towel. At this point her 3 min. were up in the shower and she needed to get out to give someone else a turn. I was hurrying her as she yelled, “Mannnnnnnnn, I don’t wanna get out”. “I’m sorry Jashelle your time is up”. Once her clothes were wrapped around her I opened the curtain and she starts screaming at me. “You saw my butterflies”. “You looked at my body”. Did she seriously just say that? Once she got dressed she starts packing up her suitcase and yells, “I’m going home”.” This camp sucks”. How could she even say that? Does she not realize what a blessing it is to go to this camp?! Theirs still so many fun things that she is going to experience and much more truth to hear and learn. I realized as soon as I thought that, that it was only a couple days ago when I said I wanted to go home as well and God said, “No, you can’t go yet!” “Don’t you realize you have so much to learn still? So much to experience still? Your mission is not complete.” Next thing I know Jashelle is out the door and I’m following behind along with mercy street staff and my senior counselor. We find Jashelle’s mentor and Jashelle begins to scream, “My counselor looked at my inpropriately!” “I don’t feel comftable!” “I wanna go home!” I am beside myself. I calmly explain the situation to Jashelle’s mentor and she understands. She told Jashelle that she had to be prepared before getting in the shower and assured her I wouldn’t look at her inappropriately. I begin to reassure Jashelle too but she still wanted to go home. Then her mentor got her mom on the phone. She put her on speakerphone so everyone could hear her. Jashelle then began to tell her mom that her counselor was looking at her body. It took everything in me to force back the tears as I was standing behind her. Trying to figure out what I could have done to prevent this moment from happening. Her mom told her that she knew she was safe and that going home wasn’t an option, Jashelle’s mentor then talked to her mom and wanted Jashelle’s mom to talk to me. Gulp. What was I supposed to say? She gave me the phone. “Hi Jashelle’s mom… I’m her counselor, Kapowski. I want you to know that….I would never look at anyone like that. Your daughter….is safe and… I love her…. and know there is still so much fun to have this week.” In the same moment trying to forgive her in my heart and sincerely mean everything I just said. Pleading with God to take away all the bitterness I was feeling in that moment and could possibly feel in the moments, the days to come. Jashelle stayed with her mentor the rest of the night. The next day I was better and after bible study Jashelle told me she wanted to tell me something. So we went outside and she apologized for the way that she acted and disrespected me. I was astounded. Granted I knew her mentor told her to, but the fact that she actually did was such a blessing to me. I got to look her in the eyes and tell her I forgive her and that I still love her. I felt God’s joy just permeate throughout me. My face lit up and I got so excited that she saw Christ’s forgiving love through me! I don’t even know how it happened; it felt like an out of body experience. God had supernaturally just loosened all the strings of resentment and anger that I was holding down and tying tighter in knots. I don’t even feel like I was there. It was just her and Christ. Jashelle seeing CHRIST. This fire began to burn within me as I then started to share the gospel with her. I never thought that we would be able to have a one on one but God made it happen. Jashelle didn’t say much after her apology but I was so thankful for just a couple of minutes where I got to speak truth to her. I would do anything to re-live that moment.

My experience as a counselor was nothing like I expected. Coming into camp I was confident that I could do this job. Then I began to look around at the other camp counselors and compare myself. I wasn’t good at relating to my girls and engaging them in bible study. I didn’t know how to be silly. I wasn’t good at being firm with my girls. I can’t be that crazy and enthusiastic all the time! I started to dwell in deceit. Things that I couldn’t do right and things that my pride was preventing me form doing at all. I saw all of my flaws so clearly. It’s like they were a big plate of vegetables right in front of me. Disgusting...brussel sprouts...sitting right in front of me...staring back. I wanted to throw up looking at them. “What do I do with them God?” I felt like a restless wanderer. I desperately wanted to improve in my weaknesses but found myself turning the wrong way for renewal and rest. It was so tempting to want to rest in my appearance or words of affirmation from people. Things I’ve found my worth in and let control me in the past. Eventually God led me to the light. I simply needed to believe that I am fearfully and wonderfully made and God has equipped me to be a camp counselor. He has prepared me my whole life for this experience. He wanted to use my very personality and the way that I love and relate to people. I needed to believe that and trust that this is His will for my life. He is the everlasting God. The creator of the ends of the earth. He will never grow tired or weary and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Once I began to cling to His promises in Isaiah 40 and 41 the overflow of His joy slowly began to drown my pride and the lies in my head. The passion for my savior came out in ways I didn’t think were possible. He gave me energy and strength and love for my girls when I didn’t think I could go on or pour out anymore. I am so prone to follow. Prone to look at another Godly person and try to transform myself into them. But God has a specific will for me. To use my gifts even if I think they are unusable. He calls us to be a leader and I light all alone sometimes. To be at a different church then our roommates. To start a ministry in a dark community. Once I got over my weaknesses and everything that’s wrong with me and allowed Him to work I gained confidence and saw His power in a new way. I saw myself as a leader for the first time. Even if it means being independent for longer then I desire I can’t doubt His will anymore. I can’t wait for my friends. Just me and Christ. Kristen seeing CHRIST. I have no reason to fear.

A prayer I wrote by the lake one morning:

Dear God, just like the stillness of the lake I pray that my soul will be at peace today. That you would completely dwell there and move my pride out of the way. I pray that I would be able to be focused on others and reflect your love for them and not myself, just like the water reflects the beauty around it. That I would see the beauty in every person you created. Let your love wash over me so I can trust and do your perfect will. For I have seen and despise my selfish reflection. Your truth is my sweet and satisfying drink. You quench my thirst and sink me in your grace. You’ve empowered me to keep swimming, to hold my breath longer so I could take part in your rescues. Continue to strengthen me so I will be ready for deeper waters ahead.

Think

I get such a high from my mind being boggled. Today I am so thankful God gave me a mind, to ponder His majesty. To think about tough things. My favorite place is my thinking chair. I always hear the Blues Clues song play in my head, “…and then we got to sit down in our thinking chair and think… think… thiinnnnnnnkkkk…” (that’s what years of babysitting did to me). I love fixing my “comfort drink” as Beth Moore likes to call it, wrap up in my quilt that my best friend made me and dive into the word or a good book with a story line of redemption. I always have note cards by me, to write down any scripture God brings to mind that I need to memorize or idol thoughts I need to surrender. Many times in that chair I have prayed in desperation and cried out in awe of the unbelievable blessings God has given me (a Kleenex box close by is a must). God has brought so much clarity as I sat still there. I’m convinced that people who don’t make time for silence are scared of the truth. The moment when I isolate myself from the world and get alone with Him is when I gradually understand the deeper purposes He has for me. This is my happy place. When I’m still and reminded that He is God. I come and ask Him to make sense of all the things floating around in my head.

What’s Floating in there today:

-that carrot soup I made yesterday was horrible

-The burden I feel for my parents, an urgency I’ve never felt this strong before

-I should really do the treadmill today

-what does it look like for me to understand the reality of the harvest

-I wonder who my future husband is going to be

-wish God will clarify what church I’m supposed to be at

-I miss my roomies

-I’m not selfless enough to be a camp counselor

-I would look really good pregnant

-I really want patio furniture for my apartment

-I really want to start a blog

So evidently I decided I was going to make one of those floaters a reality. TaDa, here it is! I’m the new blogger on the block (and yes I still have some remodeling to do). I love that I finally have an outlet for my thoughts that come to me in my thinking chair. I pray that as I am on this journey of sanctification, form trash to treasure that you will join me. So I welcome open rebuke rather then hidden love (please share your biblical insight with me). God calls us to love Him with our whole mind. So let’s think through the tough stuff. Together.


“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength and with all your mind.” Luke 10:27