Blessings Blog

Today I am thankful for time to rekindle friendships, time to type furiously, and time to create meticulously yet freely.

It perhaps took me a bit longer than it should have, or perhaps I spent way more time on it than I should have, but perfecting the clip-art-like image of the cross within the heart was my most gratifying project today. I may have shirked a few other items on my to-do list, but why do today what you can roll over to tomorrow? As I may have mentioned, long-term or sans-deadline projects are not my forte, and I may take this attitude on too frequently, but after finishing my actual work, what really drove my productivity today was this seemingly simple symbol.

My friends and family may have seen something similar floating around in my life in the past few months as a small reminder on my wrist with a large backstory. I grew a lot in my time at Carleton, and I owe much of that growth to finding an anchor in the Mustard Seed community. I entered as a freshman, feeling like the odd duck, shy, awkward, questioning, searching. By senior year, I was so much more secure in my faith and the never-ending quest to better understand God's grace and love, and I was able to fully invest in the community as I felt called to with my God-given time and talents. I had developed my own personal faith that could now exist independently of my home church community that I am still very much tied to and challenged by. After graduation in June, I worried I would slip backwards, fall from my trust in God, let myself become unglued at the simplest things like I used to, and lose the sense of peace I felt I could so easily regain, despite all the craziness of academic intensity, simply because of the power of that community. And to a certain extent, that happened because my Forge sisters ended up spread across the country and now across the world, and because I did not want to slip back into old habits and frustrations, I did not sit still for long. I ran to places and people that helped me heal perhaps without even knowing it. 

But what took me a while was the realization that I simply needed to get better at seeking, finding, and reconnecting with God wherever I am, namely in returning to the people and places a little more absent from my Carleton years. I am still finding it hard to feel like I have grown so much, learned so much, and experienced so much and wonder where in the world the product of this process disappears to sometimes! I have been transformed by God's grace, and I would like to think that is evident in how I treat others, what I value, and how I spend my time on this earth. But what happens when progress doesn't line up with the expectations from old relationships and patterns? Mess. That's how it feels sometimes anyways.

As I was navigating the beginnings of post-grad life, I was so thankful to have some funds saved up, a summer job through Skype, and people to visit. I was also dealing with the stress of "imperfect progress" (Unglued's term for what I called "mess") by my traditional non-confrontational modus operandi of not dealing with it. I have understood this conceptually for a while, but though I think it was the healthiest decision to hit the road and visit lots of friends and family around the Midwest this summer and do a lot of introspecting in those hours alone in my baby Civic, I still had not put in the work to make patience and love my default response to confrontation and challenge in old relationships. 

Still, I found myself filled by these adventures, perhaps finding God through intentional wandering. What I still needed was this cup to overflow into my past that is still present, and overflow enough to move the currents in my life that have just felt stuck. And the experience that I keep coming back to that just nourished me in so many ways was helping chaperone my church's youth group trip to León, Nicaragua (if you're interested in more stories, here's my travel blog, kemstravels.blogspot.com). There, I was no longer stuck. I was a sponge. I could truly just be the me that could take in everything. History, culture, hard work, art, dance, music, nature, family. God. My heart was refocused on the concept of sacrificial love. And as I was there, one day, I can't really explain it, but I ended up taking a pen to my left hand. Not to scribble a reminder on the back of it as I do when my hand a bit more accessible than my planner or my phone to type into, but to trace this small heart with a slight curve at the tip, connected and completed by a cross in the center on the inside of my wrist. Somehow, no matter how I contorted my wrist, it was still recognizable. The drawn lines followed its curves and creases and just melted into my flesh.

And there it was, a perfect symbol for sacrificial love. How God so loved the world, how God so loves the world every day, and how we are to devote our lives and follow.

Sacrificial love. To be ready to drop everything for a phone call from a friend who needs you that second. To be ready to lay down your life out of love. To choose to be chiseled and remade a little more every day in God's image - active choice to respond to old habits, temptations, and challenges with as much grace and love as you can.

These days, I continue to draw a crossed heart on my wrist. And after my Nicaragua trip, I also was given a beautiful silver pendant by someone dear to me who I had told about my drawing but who had never seen it. The pendant was just spot-on. Even more amazing is that as I google image searched for a suitable picture to possibly use on this blog, for the pages upon pages, not a single one matched my pendant gift. Yet if I were to have shopped among those multitudes and include mine, I would have picked out the one I have been given. It is perfect.

For now, my necklace will remain around my neck for peace and comfort. But I've gotten a couple questions about why I have this on my wrist, is it a real tattoo, etc. While I would not want a tattoo because of its permanence, the funny thing is that I think it would actually detract from its meaning to me if it were permanent. It is there and I look at it often, but it also fades and bleeds. Each time I take out my pen to touch up a curve one day or draw it anew the next, I am making that choice and intentionally reminding myself of its importance. And each day I see it on this blog, I hope it reminds me, if not you all as well, to love and to serve.

On a random final note, the song that struck me today: "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" by Fernando Ortega. Absolutely beautiful for piano and guitar, and it has been running through my head all day. Hoping my momma and I can work up a duet of some sort!