it is well...

My family has the reputation of the mystery neighbors in our cul de sac. My parents are atleast 10 years older than the next oldest couple in our neighborhood, and while my parents biggest concern is figuring out how to send 2 kids to college, the rest of our neighborhood is financing diapers and girl scout uniforms. However. Each family in our neighborhood comes with a beautiful story. Brett and Amy across the street just went from being young foster parents of a 6-year-old little boy to adoptive parents of this little boy and his 2 siblings in order to keep them all together. 0-3 kids in literally a matter of days. The Hansens next door invite us all into their story as their 9-year-old, severely autistic, "Zach-Man" wonders around the neighborhood. We don't hear too much from Cheryl...she's a night-shift Minneapolis cop who has a 'lady-friend' living with her.

It's a rare occurance that I partake in the neighborhood activities. Partly due to the fact that the vast majority of them include talent shows and slip and slides. However, last night we got a call around 5 from next-door saying that their grill was hot, so BYOM and come hang out. My dad and I walked over started our tastey 'buffalo burgers' and so began our night. I watched as the red radio flyers rolled in carrying kids, coolers, and cookies to share.

Within 10 minutes, there was probably 10 families, 50 hotdogs, and dozens of hungry little munchkins running through the sprinkler while their "hang-a-ber was on the gwill".

The sun was settle behind the clouds creating a calm and comforting warmth, and the wind blew gently. To my right sat "Chueng" who speaks little english, and didn't really interact with anyone, but nonetheless was grinning from ear to ear. To my left sat Amy, the new 'mother of 3'. Who was tired. I watched and listened to her as she began to try the ropes of this whole mom thing. She insisted on vegetables before cookies, and pulled a classic as she told her daughter that she'd 'time her to see how fast she could run home to get her swimsuit on'. (worked on me until i was like 10) In front of me sat homemade bowls of love. Strawberries, pasta salad, apple pie, watermelon...you get the picture. At which point, it occured to me. THIS IS BEAUTIFUL. From the precious sounds of gut-busting giggles of the kids running around, to the 'veteran moms' giving amy advice on how to handle this or that. This was how life was meant to be. Shared. Shared stories, shared food, shared responsibility, shared LIFE. So what if Jack tripped and dropped the cookies on his way up the driveway, so there was a little extra flavor! So what if one family was eating Chicken/Guta Cheese/Apple Brats (which were surprisingly tastey). It was beautiful.

I was over babysitting the daughters of some friends of mine the other day. They got home around 4, however I did not leave until about 10:30. They shared their dinner table with me. They shared their kids with me. They shared their hearts with me. They shared their time with me. They shared their LIFE with me.

I pray this continues in my life. I pray that the people I'm in relationship with would share life with me, and I with them. May we/I share the joys and the burdens of one another. Because it is there that I have rested in knowing that "it is well, with my soul" (which was a worship song sung tonight in which I was reminded of the beauty in simplicity)

True Colors...

funny how a stupid little online quiz nailed me so accuratley...

(go to www.colorquiz.com to take it for yourself. you'll be surprised.)

Here's my results:

Your Existing Situation

Needs, and insists on having, a close and understanding relationship, or at least some method of satisfying a compulsion to feel identified.

Your Stress Sources

The existing situation is disagreeable. Has an unsatisfied need to ally herself with others whose standards are as high as her own, and to stand out from the rank and file. Her control of her sensual instincts restricts her ability to give herself, but the resulting isolation leads to the urge to surrender and allow herself to merge with another. This disturbs her. as such instincts are regarded as weaknesses to be overcome; she feels that only by continued self-restraint can she hope to maintain her attitude of individual superiority. Wants to be loved or admired for herself alone; needs attention, recognition, and the esteem of others.

Your Restrained Characteristics

Believes that she is not receiving her share--that she is neither properly understood nor adequately appreciated. Feels that she is being compelled to conform, and close relationships leave her without any sense of emotional involvement.

Your Desired Objective

Her need to feel more causative and to have a wider sphere of influence makes her restless and she is driven by her desires and hopes. May try to spread her activities over too wide a field.

Your Actual Problem

Feels insufficiently valued in her existing situation, and is seeking different conditions in which she will have greater opportunity of demonstrating her worth.

Your Actual Problem #2

The fear that she may be prevented from achieving the things she wants leads her into a relentless search for satisfaction in the pursuit of illusory or meaningless activities.




what do YOUR colors reveal about you!?

one-man blank machine....

i found myself in a congested traffic situation today. during this 'situation'...which was out of anyone's control, I found myself blocking a car, which was blocking another car, which was blocking another car... I grew a bit agitated because i needed to be somewhere, not to mention so did every other car behind me. well, the jerk off behind me decided that she'd help the situation by honking endlessly at me. i looked in my rear-view mirror and made my stereotype of the two inexperienced teenage drivers, smoking, driving their beat up old truck, and it was obvious that it was more important for me to get where i was going than it was for them. (right? not.) anyways. in the midst of the loud drone of the horn behind me, furious, i threw up my 'not-so-jesus' finger, and continued to notify them that they were assholes. long story short, i had to go a little out of my way. One U-turn, 3 exchanged honks, and far more words than i care to share later, i was back on track to my destination. Once I had calmed myself down, i heard my radio calling me a name. (actually it was just the song) Train's newest, "One Man Wrecking Machine" was the song playing during this escapade.

it was the words to the chorus that got me thinking. "I am a one-man wrecking machine". So often I excuse my ill behavior by saying that I am just one person, my actions really wont mean a whole lot-afterall, i am just one person.

today i took on a new perspective. that one person driving the truck behind me held the power to potentially ruin my day. and she did for about 30 minutes. not only was she a one-man wrecking machine- but I was too. i had the choice to either wreck her day or make it. by freaking out and overreacting to a minor traffic inconvenience, i possibly wrecked her day too. so while i'm only one person. i still have the power to make or break someone's day.

each day we take on a renewing title of a one-man 'blank' machine, and it is our choice whether we will choose to be a wrecking machine, or (in my best attempts to come up with an oppositte of wreck, all that came to mind was love-which left me with 'love machine' which was funny to me...but for lack of a better word, work with me) ...we have the choice to be a wrecking machine, or a loving machine. (still funny, i know) in our single-personness, one-manness, we hold the power to change something-change someone.

laughter...the best medicine

this morning during the church service, they played a clip from "I Love Lucy" (the chocolate factory one...slightly amusing) anyways...there was a dad and his daughter sitting in front of me. The dad was a fairly young, 'hip', dad, and his daughter an adorable little 10 or 11 year old. During this particular video clip, the dad was in hysteria from laughing so hard. and the best part- is that he was gut-busting laughing like a little girl. The daughter repeatedly took her hands and placed them over her hysterical father out of sheer terror and embarassment. It didn't even phase the dad. He continued to squeal like a 6-year-old girl at a slumber party. At which point the daughter just shook her head, shrugged her shoulders, and melted a little lower into the pew. I didn't think the video was all that funny, but I was ear to ear giggling watching this interaction between this dad and his daughter. It was good. if you know me at all, you know I love to laugh. Some people don't laugh enough...

the battle of integrity...

11:00 the night before I have an assignment due in my Child Development class. The assignment is to observe the variety in pictures of children used on childrens toys (gender, race, etc.) The assignment is due tomorrow. The assignment calls for us to physically observe these things at a toy store. Pretty sure Toys 'R' Us closes at 9. So that option is out. I have class all day before this class. I have reached a point where it is no longer a possibility to actually go to the store. However- I've already written the paper. I've bought toys before, i have a pretty good idea of who's on the pictures...and I'm a creative writer, therefore good at making things sound believable. I even wrote in detail about the shared gender picture of two little girls and two little boys that I 'saw' putting together a shrek puzzle...But I never went to the store. Should I be able to turn my paper in? I can turn it in, I can get an A, no questions asked...of that I'm sure. BUT...that will be an undeserved cheated A. But it will help my grade. And it's really not that big of a deal, right? ....

I went to a funeral a couple of weeks ago of a man that was one of the most highly respected people in my life. His son spoke about memories of his dad, and there is one that has resonated in my mind ever since...Jon (his son) came home with a pen one day that his dad didn't recognize, and when asked where he got it, Jon replied, "at school". His dad quickly responded, "well you better return it, that's not yours". A pen. from school...a PEN.

Those words in my paper are not justified. That A is not technically mine. I don't deserve these points. I dug this hole myself. This vicious cycle of procrastination and manipulation has taken over. But it's a paper. A 10 point assignment for a course in my freshmen year of college. as far as my grade..it will help a little, bit it won't hurt a lot. am I overanalyzing, or is it so much more than that?

i've always questioned how to incorporate God into every aspect of my life, (i.e. how can i bring him into Piaget's theory of cognitive development) i think i just found my answer.

i have a choice to make at 3:00 tomorrow afternoon.

to hand in, or not to hand in....that is the question.

[four letter word]

Did you know that the average person uses the word 'love' as many as 48 times in one day? (Did you also know that 87% of all statistics are made up?...haha, incase you didn't catch that, I have no idea how many times people use the word love- i just needed a good lead in) Anyways- I realized the other day, apparently there are a lot of things I love. I LOVE the smell of Coconut Lime Verbana from Bath and Body Works. I LOVE driving in the rain. I LOVE buying new shoes. It was only when I was telling a friend of mine that I loved her and I realized that I was telling her I had the same emotion for her as I did for my new shoes. I decided I'm not okay with that. Now, don't get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoy shoes, and the rain and what not, but I just feel like love (both word and emotion) has become so lackadaisically tossed around. So do I love my shoes? No. I love my best friend. I think this has something to do with my earlier conviction of empty words.

I heard a speaker one time who said "We look most like jesus when we are serving." Ironically, I think that the ideas of loving and serving are somewhat parallel. Therefore- don't we look most like jesus when we are loving? Another thought on that...digging into the whole idea of love languages... Have you ever noticed that everybody has a different 'love language'. I think so often we love the way that we want to, whether that does anything for them or not. I want to learn the love languages in all my relationships and love people they way that they need to be loved- even if that's not how I love best. that is my responsibility to them-to love them.

Each morning I wake up and open my bathroom mirror door to an old piece of paper on which I have written, "how will you grow in your capacity to love all people today?" That was a challenge I got from a friend of mine when I was a freshmen in high school. 5 years later-i still need to grow in that. I still need to learn how to love people- all people.

Love (both noun, word, and even verb!) have been known to get people in trouble. I want to love with no strings attached. No hidden meanings, no ulterior motives. I think that "I love you" are 3 of the most beautiful words in the english language- yet they carry so much baggage. I'm reading a book by Shane Claiborne, Irresistable Revolution. This guy showed up at his high school reunion, and when asked what his occupation was, he responded with, "I'm a lover".

My final thought on love... (allison can attest to this) is this. I don't think we hear it enough, I don't think we show it enough. I was having coffee with my friend Allison the other day, and I was enjoying our conversation, appreciating her honesty and openness, and I took that opportunity to just simply say, "I love you". Why? Because even though she knows that I think she's the bomb- why can't i just tell her that. tell me one person you've met who hates hearing that. i can almost guarentee that no one hates being loved- truly, purely, and genuinley loved.
so if you love them, mean it. if you mean it, say it.

in the words of a mr. rob bell...love wins.

love much. love hard. love strong. love well.

transfer blogs..

[sunday came]
created April 8

thanks to a fire lit under my butt earlier this week, I signed up to be a part of a choir formed for an upcoming "tenebrae"/good friday service. we had our first and only practice this morning. my thoughts driving there? i wonder where the nearest place i can turn around is. my thoughts leaving? speechless.
The actual choir practice was sweet, i love to sing, therefore it was a good time, and it was led by a guy who is quite possibly on my top 10 most talented worship leaders. but it was what he had to say after we finished singing that hit me.
he walked us through the service, what it was going to be like. can i just say that this particular church knows how to do church? the elements he descibed gave me goosebumps. not only because the creative brilliance behind it all got me exctied, but the things he was describing were such gruesome reminders to what good friday was and is all about. he challenged us to begin this upcoming holy week in this mindset: "imagine living through good friday without the knowledge that sunday was coming" when good friday rolls around, we go to church, we sing the songs, we watch the images, and it's all well and good, but we KNOW that sunday is coming. and so we focus on that. we focus on knowing that our hero comes back. we dont even begin to touch what it would have been like to feel like it ended on friday.
anyways, im fricken pumped to be able to be a part of this service. but more so, i'm so excited to be a part of "the bigger story". I'm so excited that sunday came.


[jesus in my jones...]
created April 6th

i opened a bottle of jones soda tonight, which always has a clever little "2 cents" they like to add into your life through their bottle caps. Previous ones have been, "you will soon change your line of work, and make a list of 5 things that make you happy." tonight's words of wisdom you ask? simply... "listen". the funny thing is that when i was purchasing the soda, i mixed and matched from about 6 different cases of this soda to create my ideal package of bottles with the pictures i wanted on them. meaning, there was potentially 24 bottles that i could have come home with, and this one found it's way into my fridge. maybe god is saying, "hey freak-attack! if you cant hear me screaming to you, maybe i can get you this way. LISTEN ALREADY".

i wrote about listening in my journal the other night. i wrote more about my lack of ability to listen than anything. i actually wrote, "i'm scared to listen because i fear what God might tell me".

i think this maybe means I need to spend more time being still. listening. focusing. being.

so why am i so afraid to listen to what he has to say? maybe it's because I think he's going to unleash something I dont think he can pull me through. maybe I think he'll leave me to fend for myself once he shows me how royally i have f'ed up. but it is
in those moments of silence that i begin to hear the precious voice of christ, that no more than whispers, say to me..."we're gonna make it buddy, dad knows the way" - that i hear him offer his hand. that i begin to hear familiarity.


[surfacing...]
created April 5th

i feel like i've reached a point in my life where i've really grown up. (which i guess, once i've said it, it makes me think i really havn't because the only time you want to be a grown up, is when you aren't one.) So we'll just say i'm at a point where i have had, in my opinion, significant maturation over the past few months. i've devloped confidence in the things that i can do, and become aware, (and satisfied) in the fact that there are things i cant and wont ever be able to do.

someone asked me how i was the other day (with the intent for me to actually respond, and they actually listen...which doesn't happen very often) and the only word that i could say was overwhelmed. not in the sense that i have an overabundance of tasks that need to be completed, but some underlying personal issues have been surfacing. things that really wont affect who i am, but will hopefully improve who i am to other people. for instance- i've realized the outrageous amount of empty words that i speak to people. i've been sucked into this sick cycle of the christian vocabulary in which people share things with me, and my automatic response is, "well i'll pray for you". and do i? not very often. i've also been exposed to my irresponsibility and selfishness when it comes to matters of stewardship. not just with my money (but Lord knows i dont give my 10%) --which is another thought that i've wrestled with latley. i have no job. i occasionally have babysitting jobs/house cleaning jobs that give me pretty much enough money to gas my way to school and back. because of this, i struggle with how and what my "tithe" is/should be. part of me says that right now, at this point in my life, time is one of my most valuable 'possessions' so is it my time that i can offer? or is that just my half hearted way of doing it so i can feel good? hmm...

i was told the other day (by someone that i love and respect, and my inital feeling was DANG that hurt...until i later realized his intention/reasoning behind exposing this) ...anyways, i was told that i need to pray about the possibilty of having major pride issues. i've never considered myself as someone who had a head so big they had to turn sideways to get in the door. (i always think of "Hey Arnold" when referring to big-headed, egotistical people.) anyways- my friend challenged me to think about the whole idea of "taking the blame, passing the praise." which i've always felt i've done. and so as these things add up, his suggestion, and my initial rejection to it, which to me implies that if i was so quick to deny it, maybe it's true?, but i'm pretty sure i need to learn humility. i'm fricken good at saying, "oh thanks, but i had a ton of help!" while on the inside i'm saying, "thanks, they couldn't have done it without me". i am good at that show. i dont want to be.

i feel trapped behind layers upon layers that are creating this human imbecile called kaitlyn. i want to work at peeling back those layers to reveal who i am- who jesus created me to be.

i feel as though anyone who may read this may begin to ensue my feelings of overwhelmed-ness (haha, you like that?) simply because what was on my brain came out my fingers, in no order what so ever...and this is life.