Sunday shout-out: Happy birthday!

We have been Facebook friends since 2008, real-life friends since just after that night I used my braces as an excuse to be shy and introverted, and friends by proxy your entire life and most of mine. I have been so blessed by you over the years and have found many reasons to be thankful for you.

I’m thankful that you have always indulged my sense of humor. You went right along with my silliness and became a fully invested partner every time. Whether it was planning parties (Let’s make confetti go everywhere!) and shows for the parents at your cabin, making up words and organizing them into a dictionary, or staying up until ridiculous hours of the night just to giggle together, you always laughed at my jokes and played along.

I’m thankful for your example. You serve others with a quiet humility, never seeking praise or glory for your actions but keeping them between yourself and God for real recognition from Him that only He may receive the glory. Sometimes I find out about some of the sneaky honorable things you do in quiet, and I am blown away. I want to serve like you, always thinking of others but never about the credit.

I’m thankful for your encouragement. You are one of a faithful few who actually read this blog, and you are so positive and uplifting about it. I don’t write enough, but you affirm me when I do. I can be vulnerable with you – in writing or in person – and you build me up with your reassurance.

I’m thankful for your enduring friendship. You keep inviting me places and sharing your life with me. You’ve shared your table at lunch, a birthday party, and soon a most special day with me. You have seen me through prom dates and breakups, finals weeks and graduations, times I’ve felt lost and all the times in between.

I can’t wait to stand next to you on your wedding day and hear about your adventures across the sea and share more of life with you in the years to come. I’m thankful that we have consecutive birthdays, because it is fun being able to celebrate each other with our overlapping circles of friends.

Thank you for being a friend. Happy birthday!

Saturday Shout-Out: Thank you for living my sticker

I have a sticker on the back of my car that says, "Be Kind," but I don't always live by it. I cut people off, I neglect to use my signal, and I am known to follow too closely. What’s worse, though, is that I see people all the time that need help, and the best I do to help them is think, “Man, I wish I had time to help them,” as I speed by. I'm usually driving too fast to notice someone in need, and when I do I'm usually too focused on myself and where I need to go to turn back and help. Sometimes, to be honest, it's simply because helping is inconvenient and uncomfortable, and I don't feel like it.

I watch you help people all the time, though, whether you feel like it or not. When we're hungry and in a hurry to get some food, you make time to help someone get their car to a gas station. Instead of getting impatient when you're picking me up, you say it’s a good thing you were waiting on me because it gave you time to give someone a jump. You live those words way better than I do, and you don't need a sticker on your back window to remind you to “Be Kind”.  

We were in a hurry today. I made you late, and you were annoyed. You were driving fast and getting frustrated with other drivers. You made a U-turn and pulled to a stop. I was confused until I saw the flashing hazards of the vehicle in front of you. You got out of your truck and spoke for a moment with the driver whose car was stopped in the middle of a busy street. Then you pushed her car off the road, up a hill, by yourself. It took a couple of minutes for other drivers to follow your example, but eventually some got out of their cars and helped as well. 

Every time I see someone walking in the rain or in the heat I want to pull over, ask them where they're headed, and give them a ride even if it’s a half hour out of my way. I did stop for someone one day, shortly after I met you. Her car had overheated and died. A jump didn’t work so I gave her and her baby a ride home. I was so proud of myself it was ridiculous. I called you to tell you the reason I was running late because I wanted you to be proud of me too. That’s not the way it works with you, though, I realized. Today when we were late and your dad made a comment about it, you didn't say why. You didn’t blame me, and you didn't puff up your chest with pride and tell him about the driver you stopped to help. You just said, “Yeah, sorry about that,” and moved on.

I've witnessed many examples of this kindness and humility. You brush off the subject when I tell you how impressed I am by you, how much your selflessness blows me away. You don’t realize that I've watched people preach the words without living them my entire life. Other people with “Be Kind” stickers or K-LOVE stickers or Jesus fishes on their cars, including me, drive by people in need every day. See, I was taught to look to the needs of others instead of your own and to give in secret so that no one but God would know of your kindness and to help people in need, especially when it costs you something. I memorized Bible verses that didn’t encourage such things but commanded them. Yet, I haven't seen many live it out like you do. You are not about the words, you are about truly living the golden rule.

You told me yesterday you try to live by the wise and eloquent words, “No one likes an asshole,” and that you do your best to think about how you would want to be treated and treat others that way in all circumstances. Thank you for trying to live that out. Thank you for thinking of others before and instead of yourself. I’m glad you don’t talk a good talk but that you walk a damn good walk. You've reminded me that it’s not so important to say the right things or to look good to other people but to do good. One of my favorite books is called Love Does, and the author’s simple message to the world is, “Love people. Do stuff.” He talks about how actions are the most important thing about a person and that the world needs more people who, when presented the opportunity to do something good for another person, just do it. They don't weigh the cost or speed by. We need more people like you who take every opportunity to go out of their way for someone else. Thank you for being that type of person. When I tell you you're that type of person, thank you for shrugging it off and acting like it’s nothing but like it's just how everyone should act. Thank you for the example you've set for me and others. Thank you for living my sticker. 

Saturday Shout-out: Thank you for accepting my invitation

Do you remember that day you appeared out of nowhere and I invited you to lunch?

Since then, we have served, cried, danced, and laughed together. You have been invaluable to me in what was so far the loneliest year of my life.

Thank you for understanding me. Thank you for being gracious when you don't understand. Thank you for laughing at my jokes when I am in my weird, silly moods and about to take it just a little too far. Thank you for still laughing when I do take it too far and not turning on me like all the others. (They know who they are.)

Thank you for great memories, for confiding in me, for joining me in adventures, and for encouraging me on my adventures. Thank you for letting me be me and feel what I feel; thank you for being the most supportive sounding board.

Thanks for texting me what you're thinking and not judging me for what I'm thinking.

You are such a beautiful friend, and my life is more beautiful for having you in it. Thank you for the art that you live everyday with your life. Thank you, friend, for painting your love on me <3

And thanks for going out to lunch with us that day and never looking back!

School of Hard Knocks: Singleness

Five things I learned from being single

1. Being newly single is hard at first, but then it's fun.

I remember the exact moment being single went from feeling lonely to feeling actually pretty great. It was a Friday. I had a crazy day, and I was on my way to meet a friend I had plans with when she texted me she couldn’t make it. I sighed and made a U-turn, thinking I would just go home. Something stopped me though, and I thought, Katelyn, what do you want to do? I decided, and then I did it. I didn't have to call anyone to let them know the plan had changed again. I didn't have to make sure anyone else would also think that plan was fun. I didn't have to hold on to this secret idea of I wanted to do and say, "I don't care," when someone asked, for fear of my fun idea looking silly to someone else (see: Lesson #3).

I got to do exactly what I wanted to do in that moment. No one else got a vote, no one else even had to know. So I went, and I sat at the library, and I read a book. Because I wanted to.

Another Singleness is Fun moment I had recently was at a wedding, usually an emotional hell for singles. I sat with two of my favorite married couples and one of my favorite fellow singles. We listened as our married friends discussed when they should leave the wedding, when they wanted to go to bed, and the fact that one usually doesn't go to bed without the other. They weren't fighting or complaining, but it took effort to decide such things. I looked at my single buddy, smiled, and said, "I'm gonna go to bed tonight whenever I want. What about you?" We high fived.

Being married is awesome, I'm sure. Relationships are fun. They offer mutual support, friendship, and love. You have a person. It's great. But singleness is a season that there is a time for under the sun also, and it's also great. Smile, singles. Do something you want to do, and then go to bed whenever you want.

2. I actually am a fun and worthwhile person. Beautiful, even :)

Relationships make it tempting to see the other person as a mirror of your personal worth. You dress up for him or her, but it doesn't mean as much until they see you and tell you how great you look. You tell a joke, but is it really funny if that special person doesn't laugh? You let someone in close to see the real you; it makes sense that what that person thinks of you would hold a lot of weight in terms of how you think of yourself. But that's not a good place to get those self-worth feelings from.

Spending more time hanging out alone has made me come to appreciate myself. My brain thinks of funny things, and they're just as funny when I think of them as they would be if I share them with someone who'd laugh along. I plan fun things to do whether someone else will be there doing them with me or not. I've had experiences similar to the egg tasting scene in Runaway Bride; without anyone to conform my preferences to, I got to learn what I really like. Space to live like I want and make choices that don't effect anyone else solidified things I believe, things I need, and things I want. I'm assuming this information will be invaluable in future relationships.

I also had days where I had to be complete and content on Team Me and God. I had to enjoy existence regardless of who, if anyone, was next to me. And I really did! The days I am most proud of are the ones I wake up and look in the mirror. Hey, I say to myself, you're cute! And I mean it. I look in the mirror and see someone beautiful who I am proud to be, and no one had to tell me that was true for me to believe it.

3. Relationships, even the healthy ones, make people a little crazy.

Your brain chemistry changes when you're in love. I'm not talking metaphorically. The chemicals in your brain literally become different as you react to having a crush, falling in love, and loving someone. They make you feel, think, and act differently. Your brain acts in love like it does on drugs.

I know this because of books about science.

But I know other things from watching people I know be in relationships with each other. A girl asks a boy she is dating to do something for her that she could do herself. Why? I don't know. I've done it. Is it to test their love? Their willingness? Is it because we don't wanna and there's someone who also doesn't wanna but will? I have no idea. But it's funny to watch from the outside. I want to laugh and tell the girl that's really too bad her legs stopped working, when did that happen?

I also watch people I know in relationships with each other be a little bit meaner to each other than they would to their friends. Maybe it's because it's scary to let someone in so close so at times you have to be sarcastic or a little mean to maintain that last bit of distance between you. Maybe it's the opposite - you're so close you let all your filters down and sometimes say whatever thought pops into your selfish, imperfect, human brain. Maybe it's both or either, depending on the day. Sometimes a relationship is just a big pile of not enough and too much honesty, all at the same time.

Two flawed people putting their lives close together is going to be a mess, and people are going to get crazy. I have learned this and tried to prepare myself for when it happens to me again.

4. I can be myself, and someone can like that or not.

I had this idea in my head that I had to act cute on a date. I should think of coy things to say and learn how to effectively bat my eyelashes. In reality, I shouldn't have to act anything. The best dates are when I can just be.

My friend, Ashley, had some good advice recently. I was trying to text back a guy I recently met and was hardcore stressing over punctuation. I go way overboard worrying about grammar in text messages to boys I like. (Will they judge my haha's and lol's? Emojis or no emojis? Wow, I seem to be putting an exclamation point after every sentence… maybe I should take it down a notch. Etc., etc.) Ashley told me to, "Text him like you'd text me." You mean, I can act like this is a human to human interaction and not go insane about it?! (Again, see Lesson #3.) Relax, and be what is normal for you.

If someone doesn't like me when I'm not putting any effort into it, the relationship has no chance. It's wasted effort to act a certain way or tell little lies to seem more appealing on first dates. It's more fun anyway when I don't worry about how I'm supposed to act and I just hang out (or text) as myself.

More importantly, I don't have to take personally any negative feedback I receive for being myself. This is me, and I've already decided I like me. People can act like I'm not beautiful or valuable all they want. The God of the universe says I am, so…

Someone not texting me back or breaking up with me or passing me on Tinder (just kidding, ew) has no impact on the validity of me actually being beautiful and likeable and, dare I say, loveable. It's more important I believe that than anyone else. And, funny thing is, the more confident I am in myself, the more others will think I'm pretty great, too. 

5. I can have adventures all by myself.

I read a book once that implied a man is made for adventure, a woman should wait to have a relationship with a man until after he's lived great adventure, and a woman's greatest adventure will be hookin' her marriage train to a godly man. Well, I will never understand a man's great need for adventure. But I was not given life to live a bland one and wait around for someone to hook on to. I have had some great adventures this year. I've crossed so many things off my bucket list, much because I didn't have to bring anyone with me! Someday, I may have a wonderful husband to adventure alongside. I'm not going to wait for him to come along to get my living in!

If you are reading this and you are single, have fun while you belong to this club! Get to know yourself and don't rush into being with someone just so you're not alone anymore. I always say it's better to be alone than in a relationship and unhappy. As fun as it is to fall in love, adding another person to your mix does not simply make your life better. Figuring your stuff out and learning to love yourself well does. And it will help you when a relationship does come around. It is easy to say and can be hard to do: enjoy your singleness.

If you are reading this and you are in a relationship, the grass is green on your side of the fence, too! Our grasses on our respective sides are equally green! I don't post this to make you envy or wish for singleness. You are learning different things in your relationship than what I am learning through being single. You should blog about it so we can benefit from your wisdom. 

Guess what we get to do today

There's a scene in the movie The Rookie where Dennis Quaid's character is discouraged about his so far frustrating time in the minor leagues so he takes a walk.  He ends up walking past a little league game and remembers what it's all really about.  Back in the locker room, he walks in with restored love in the game and hope in life.  He tells one of his teammates, "Guess what we get to do today.  We get to play baseball." 

I lose track of the great beauty in simple, everyday truths.  I forget what a miracle it is that I exist.  I get caught up in my schedule and my responsibilities, and I forget.  But guess what we get to do today.

We get to be human beings who are self-aware and whose actions can change reality.  Even when it seems like our lives are out of control, we get to decide, for the most part, what our todays look like. 

We get to exist in the twenty-first century with iPhones and computers and wireless internet.  We get to have quicker access to more information that anyone has ever had in history, and we can choose to use these powers for the good of connectivity and community.  We get to have a louder voice and a more accessible soapbox than our ancestors; we don't have to publish our thoughts in books, we get to participate in the ongoing transfer of thoughts, ideas, and information, all the time, whenever we want. 

We get to live on earth.  We get to inhabit the mountains and deserts and plains and forests.  We get to swim in the oceans and lakes and rivers and ponds.  We get to watch the weather and gaze at the stars and climb the rocks and sit under the trees.  The sky turns colors, rivers dig canyons, rain falls, morning comes, birds sing, and we get to witness it all.   We get to breathe the oxygen that trees make for us, for goodness sake. 

We get to coexist with other humans, none of whom are exactly like us.  We get to figure each other out, learn things from each other, strengthen each other, and love each other.  We were born into families to have a shot at belonging from the get-go.  We get to be loved by other humans and accepted by groups and welcomed into tribes.  And even when others don't love or welcome or accept us, our identity doesn't have to be phased one bit because Jesus says we aren't who others say we are; we are who he created from dust and brought into his hope and family and purpose.

We get to open the Word of God and read the history of our faith forefathers, the hope of our good news, and the future of our reality.  We get to rely on the promises of God who gives good gifts to his children and walks with us through fire to refine us into the best versions of ourselves. 

We get to be a part of the body of Christ.  We get to study and worship and work together every day with inspiring people we don't even know, but they have the same mission and life goals as we do: to live and Die for Christ alone and to love others relentlessly. Some of them even die for it, and we get to be a part of all that. We get to be a part of a worldwide movement that started long ago and will never end.

Even on bad days, we serve a God who rebuilds the rubble, who trades beauty for ashes, and who breathed his life into the dust of the ground to bring us into being.  He promises that even when our life is full of garbage, he'll use it for good.  He promises to redeem our mistakes, to change even our past into part of our story for his glory.

We get to be creatures who remember the past, exist in the present, and hope for the future. But we don't have to be prisoners of time, we get to be citizens of eternity. We get to live life to the full forevermore, and we get to share that with others.

Count your blessings, friends.  Take a deep breath, inhale the possibilities, and exhale with hope.  Guess what we get to do today!  

The Vice President of the organization I work for was showing me how to build a PivotTable in Excel. I thought I was proficient in Excel before; now I was learning something I didn't even know I didn't know. I was enthralled. But while I was listening to him explain how to set values and add filters, my brain jumped to a weird place: his small children at home. 

They don't know what their dad does at work, I thought. They don't know any details besides he leaves in the morning, goes to a place called work to do a thing called work, and comes home in the evening. They may be starting to understand that this is a thing some grown-ups do, ideally at least one per family, to make money to buy things, but they don't know that their dad used to work at a famous software company and gave it up to work in ministry. They don't know what a PivotTable is or even what Excel is. They know nothing of this world.

And it clicks in my brain: this is why my idea of adult is so skewed.

I am thoroughly enjoying this book Adulting: How to become a grown-up in 468 easy(ish) steps by Kelly Williams Brown. On the back cover it says, "Adult isn't a noun; it's a verb."

When we are kids, adults are these things that are just around. They're the big people who dress in the crisp clothes and go to jobs to work and feed us and tuck us in. They make food and plan vacations and know how to read chapter books. There is a clear distinction given the fact that, when we are little, we do not know how to cook a meal that involves an actual oven rather than a light-bulb powered one, and we couldn't even begin to organize a vacation. (Once, I tried to "run away". I packed a backpack with my doll in it and a book I liked and went into the backyard until someone noticed. No one noticed, so I came back inside. I was "away" for maybe five minutes.)

We didn't see them become grown-ups, they just were grown-ups because they knew more things and seemed to have stuff pretty well together most of the time. Grown-up seemed like a noun. 

The noun adult idea was reinforced by the most popular question I remember anyone asking me: What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you want to be. Noun.

This idea assumes that when I grow up I will be something. I will have a job presumably, a career hopefully (when I was around 6, I wanted to work four part time jobs: mermaid, dental hygienist for the elephants at the zoo, professional singer, and ballerina). There seemed to be a moment in time I should aspire to, when I grow up. There would be a time before it happened and a time after it happened, and afterwards I would be something.

Fast forward to December 2012. I am graduating from college. I sit through this ceremony and think, Is this it? Is this… grown up?  But I don't have a fancy job or even an idea of what I'd like to be. Is school really over? Is this real life?

My parents are proud, my best friend is excited, but I am lost and sad. Is not-grown-up-ness gone now? Must I start to be something? But what will I be? How will I decide? Does the fact that I haven't decided mean I've already failed?

It took me a year and a half to finally realize what is stated so simply on my new adulthood guidebook. Adult isn't a noun. It's not something I become one day or wake up as, as if the adult fairy will leave a career under my pillow. It's not a place I arrive at or a thing I turn into. It isn't a what or a who, a when or a where. It's a do. It's a happening. It's a verb.

Class of 2014, maybe you are excited this week as you finish classes and accomplish a college degree. You darn well should be excited and proud, too.  You did an amazing thing, you worked hard, and you and your parents just bought the most expensive piece of paper you will ever own. Wear an over-sized robe and a silly hat and show off that piece of paper.

But maybe like me you also have some emotions floating around in there that you didn't expect to feel. Maybe you feel nostalgic and oddly sad that you will never again turn in a paper or sit in those desks with the ridiculously tiny writing spaces. Maybe your time in school since kindergarten flashes in your mind like a movie montage and you think, Is this it? It's really over? Maybe you feel lost and scared and a little like you don't want to be a grown-up after all. No one told me this, but those are okay emotions to feel during this time as well. 

Relax a little, though, because you don't have to worry anymore about getting to some strange land called Adulthood. You will never arrive, you will only journey, and it's only tiring if you don't enjoy the ride.

Saturday Shout-out: Thanks for answering my call

I knew my situation was not unique, but I didn't know many people personally who had been through a broken engagement.  As least not personally enough to call up and essentially say, "I am going through this hard thing that you have also been through.  Help."

I am so thankful that what could have come across as a nuisance - a random phone call digging up a past you were trying to forget - didn't seem bothersome at all.  I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders when I heard the compassion in your voice. 

Compassion: to suffer alongside.  You understood my pain, my confusion, my regret. 

You gave me the advice you wish someone would have given you.  You told me what you would have told yourself if the you now could tell the you then how to deal. 

One thing you said was a major help in processing through my emotional wounds.  You told me to let myself feel what I feel.  Your mom had wanted you to be mad and hateful, but some days you woke up devastated, without the energy to be mad or the motivation to hate.  You said you should have let yourself be sad those days or happy on the days you felt like life was okay enough to be happy about, but you stayed mad.  For a long time.  You told me to process it better, to just feel what I feel. 

It was so freeing to talk to someone who knew what to say in light of many other people in my life saying nice things with good intentions hoping to love and comfort me but really not helping.  It was even more freeing to know that I didn't have to rein in my emotions or try to decide how to feel but that it would help to just feel it all. 

And it did help.  A lot.  I could tell that my mom, too, wanted me to be angrier than I was because of how angry she was on my behalf.  I appreciated her anger and her motherly desire for pain to come to anyone who hurts me (pain that would likely be delivered by my equally angry father and brother).  Some days I was angry and hurt and wanted pain to happen to him, too.  Other days I felt bad being angry.  I felt almost in agreement with his choice not to get married.  And those feelings had their place; they needed to be just as valid.  The best days were the days I woke up feeling strong and content.  I couldn't be angry or sad on those days because that would be a step backwards.  The emotions eventually sorted themselves out as I let them come and go naturally and as God continued to care for my hurting heart. 

Thank you for this wonderful advice, friend.  Thank you for being there for me in my time of need, for being willing to meet me in my hurt and help me find my way out of it, and for being someone I could call for a lifeline.  Thank you for answering my call.  

Jealous of what?

I happen to be standing at church behind a woman I think of as much prettier than me.  She is tall and thin, and I don't know if she has ever considered being a model, but she could be.  She dresses nicely, always looks put together, and is, overall, very beautiful.   

She is one woman of many that I have been jealous of over the years.  One of many who, from my perspective at least, seems to have been born with an effortless beauty.  One of many who I have wished I could look like more than I look like myself.   

But last night at church, something changed.  A sentence happened clearly in my  brain; it was my voice, but it was not something I would say.  It seemed familiar, but it was not something I had ever thought before.  It happened the same way other thoughts normally happen in my brain, but it seemed to come from somewhere else.   

Her beauty reflects the same God as your beauty does.   

I had to sit down.  The thought washed over me, expelling the jealousy. It was oddly sudden, but I wanted to keep experiencing the truth of this thought, the clarity it was offering, so I kept repeating it to myself.  Her beauty comes from the same sources as yours.  Truth happened in my heart, truth I should have realized before but never did, truth that was expelling the shadows of lies and brokenness and imperfection.  I made her, and I made you; your beauty is not a competition, it's a cooperation.  I grabbed my notebook out of my purse and wrote things down.  I didn't want to forget this thing I shouldn't have needed reminding of.   

We are the body of Christ.  When one part is particularly beautiful, we are all beautiful.  When one part succeeds, we all succeed.  Anything good we do, have, or make, came from God, and he calls us to give it back for his glory.  I have no reason to be jealous, ever.   

I have written before about my comparison complex, how I may be content with what I have until I see someone with something better.  I have noticed, though, it doesn't work just in one direction.  I don't compare only when I come out behind; I criticize to feel right, I judge to feel better, I look down on to feel higher than.   

The second case, puffing up and feeling better, is obvious pride.  But the first is pride, too.  When I am jealous, I am still making the world about me.  When I'm jealous, I'm not being a good body member.   

I've memorized Philippians 2:3-4 before, which encourages us to have humility like that of Christ, but I always thought the verses before stuck out a bit.  I never understood how they fit in with the rest of the section until just now, when I read it in new light.   

2 So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2 complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 

My paraphrase to myself: Is it helpful to be part of the body?  Convenient sometimes, even?  Does it bring you joy?  How about fellowship with Christ, ya like that?  Then fellowship the right way.  Be a real team.  Don't join in only when it suits you; don't be a part of this only for what you get out of it.  Be together, really together.  Be for each other, even when it's hard.  Celebrate someone else even though it means you're not being celebrated in that moment.  Because actually, when you're really together, you're being celebrated when someone else is, too, because your King is being honored.  

Saturday Shout-out: Thanks for the ride

I called you late from an airport.  It was you I called because I knew there would be no, "I told you so" comments coming from your end of the line.  I told you that I had just broken up with my lying, cheating boyfriend, the one all my friends had been trying for months to convince me was a liar and a cheater.  I told you that I didn't regret giving him as many chances as I did but that I knew he had used up his last one.  You were patient and kind; you let me talk through my anger and my hurt with you, and you asked questions like you really cared. 

At the end of the conversation, whether you really meant it or were just trying to offer me a bit of friendly comfort, you offered me whatever I needed, even to pick me up from the airport when I flew in the next day.  I was thankful that someone was willing to catch me while I felt like I was falling in the darkness.  I spent the night at the airport and planned to fly home early the next day.  Just wanting to check my bags and get out of that airport, I ended up taking an even earlier flight to somewhere near home. 

You came and got me.  No hesitation, no questions, no taking back your offer of whatever I needed. 

What I needed was a friendly face, a loving hug, and a way home.  You came, on top of all that, with chocolate. 

I just remembered this the other day and felt badly that I had never offered to help pay for the gas to get me home.  I hope I at least thanked you profusely.  I can pay you back now, if you'd like, and I'm sorry I never thought about that before. 

When I was expecting my parents and my friends to welcome me home with proud I told you so's, you welcomed me with the selfless love of true friendship.  Thank you for being there for me when I simply needed to be loved and cared for.  Thank you for coming without judgment and with chocolate.  Thanks, friend, for the ride.  

Saturday Shout-out: You remind us to love

You are a severely under-appreciated holiday.  You are annually rejected and scoffed at as a ploy either to cause us to spend money or to feel lonely.  You just can't win.

But, Valentine's, you do deserve a day.

"We should celebrate our love for each other all year," some say, arguing that you should go away.  But no one is saying about Christmas, "We should celebrate God's love for us and our love for each other everyday, not just on Christmas, so let's cancel Christmas."

We should celebrate love all year, but, like Christmas, having a day makes the mushy feeling of celebrating love and each other just so much more fun.

So, Valentine's, here's to love, and here's to you.

Thanks for giving us a day to celebrate the ones we love.  Thanks for taking full advantage of cheesy cartoon hearts, light up hearts, hearts that hang from the ceiling, hearts that pop up out of cards, hearts of all colors and sizes from all places.  Thanks especially for chalky candy conversation hearts.

Thanks for being flexible and leaving room for the singles to celebrate as well.  Some find you exclusive and say you cater only to couples, but I know better.

Last year, you visited on a Thursday, my favorite day of the week.  You even brought a most wonderful surprise: snow in Tucson!  You encouraged me to begin to love myself, really deep down to the core to appreciate the person God created when he thought me up.  Since then, I have learned to accept who I have been, love who I am, and take positive steps everyday toward who I want to be.

Single or not, I will always love you, Valentine's Day.  I will always look forward to what surprises you bring when you visit.  And I will forever appreciate your reminder to love and to give.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go buy out the last of the clearance conversation hearts.

Saturday Shout-out: Thank you for jumping

After a week at camp, you used to write two songs for our youth group.  The first was a silly, musical scrapbook highlighting all the good times had and the jokes only we would understand.  We laughed at every lyric feeling surprised and so especially loved when we realized how well you had been paying attention to each experience all week.  You must have been taking notes!

The second song you wrote was built of sentences submitted by each small group: a summary of what we had learned that week, what God had done in our hearts, and what we hoped God would continue to do after our trip back home.  You took our sentences, made them rhyme, and set them to music.  You took our week at camp - all God had done to right us as people and strengthen us as a community - and gave it back to us in the form of a song that we might not soon forget all God had done and would do. 

Last week, I got to worship with friends and strangers, singing songs of praise and prayer about and for my city.  You said they were written by worship pastors in Tucson who came together from their different denominations and perspectives to collaborate on this process.  All I could think was, He's at it again.  You've taken our churches and our people, our history and our city and given it all back to us in the form of songs that we might not soon forget all God has done and is doing.

I think about the prayer meetings I got a glimpse into almost two years ago and how many of the same themes those leaders were praying for are present in these songs.  Just like I felt that last night of camp, I think your lyrics are making many Tucsonans and even, I would think, God, feel surprised and so especially loved to realize how well you have been paying attention.  You are so great at noticing the heart at the center of things, and you see what God is doing underneath it all.  You saw downtown as the heart of Tucson before many did, even when it was broken and barely beating.  And, as God does with things broken and forgotten, you paid attention. 

Thank you for City Psalms.  Thank you for your humility, for letting these songs be ours.  Thank you for releasing them to churches to play in their services.  Thank you for how you pay attention.  Thank you for loving Tucson and people how God does.  Gracias por incluir gente de cada raza y denominación. 

So many students were sad to see you leave our youth group, myself included.  But we understood you had to go.  We wanted you to follow the dream God had given you, too.   Though you had little idea what following that dream would look like, you knew absolutely that God had it all worked out.  You went, not without fear, I'm sure, but with much courage and faith. 

Thank you for going.  Thank you for following.  Thank you for jumping. 

And thank you for teaching us that when you jump in faith, you not only survive the fall.  God helps you fly.   

Saturday Shout-out: Thanks for breaking up with me

Though it may seem so, I assure you this post title isn't oozing with sarcasm.  I'm for real.  You did what you had to do, and I'm glad you did.   

I hadn't wanted to admit this before, but it took a lot of courage what you did.  People on TV break up weddings all the time, and they usually wait until the most painstaking moment: right before or even during the ceremony.  THANK THE GOOD LORD you did not wait until then.  You waited longer than I would have liked, but thank you times a million for not waiting until our wedding day.   

Life is harder than it looks on television, and I can now admit that it must have taken a lot to work yourself up to breaking off our engagement when you did.   

You bought a ring.  We put a deposit down on a date and a venue.  We had two different photographers (unpaid family and friend volunteers, thank goodness) take engagement photos.  I bought a dress, we booked a DJ, we designed the flowers.  I had just finished addressing all the invitations and had bought the postage.   

You sat me down in January and told me you had been having doubts about our getting married since September, which was one month before we got engaged.  I was furious that you had waited so long to tell me.  Now, on the other side of hurt and healing, I am thankful that the scariness of telling me then didn't cause you to shut up and tell me even later.   

It's a year after we broke up, but I still don't fully see the purpose of the blip we were in each other's life.  I believe I will one day, when you are a far distant memory.  But I can already begin to appreciate the things I've learned and the person I've become because of the experience of almost marrying you.  

I saw a picture of you the other day.  It felt like a picture of a stranger or maybe someone from a dream.  I knew you well, I thought.  But I will never know you again.  There was a bit of sadness, but strangely there was mostly a feeling of weightlessness, almost like relief.  Funnily enough, it was a lot like a Taylor Swift song. 

I still hate to admit that you were right.  I say instead that you did the right thing at the wrong time.  But you were right that it was wrong for us to be together.  We talked ourselves into the idea that we had found our match, and it was an easy idea to believe when things were easy.   

People think love is about feelings.  But love really happens when the feelings aren't there.  When life is hard and you've run out of reasons to love someone, that's when the choice to do so anyway really means something.   

But at the core of who you were, when you weren't putting effort into it, I didn't really like that person.  It was hard to enjoy you for exactly who you were and even harder to really love you.  I didn't enjoy your raw existence, and I know you didn't enjoy mine.   

I love you now like I love the Constitution.  You are a part of my history and the fact that you exist still plays a part in my life and will forever.  But I spend barely any time thinking of you.  I am thankful for what you taught me and the person I became from knowing you.  I am also thankful, though, that I don't have to spend everyday reading you.  

Thank you for the role you played in my life.  Thank you for loving me well for a short time and challenging me to be the best Katelyn I can be.  Thank you for all the things you taught me through the process of building a relationship together, planning a life together, and then dismantling it all.  Thank you for finally being able to say what you had been afraid to say for so long.  Thank you for breaking up with me.

Saturday Shout-out: Happy Birthday!

In three days, my best friend will have a birthday.  Birthdays are times to celebrate someone's existence, but I don't have enough words or the right words to adequately explain how great this best friend is.  But that's never stopped me before from saying words anyway. 

When I was little, I would beg my mom for a twin sister.  No matter how many times she explained to me the impossibility of that request, I would wish and beg on.  And no amount of persuading me that sisters are not as fun as they sound would interfere with my dreaming of all the fun we would have and all the clothes we would share.  

I was not meant to be born as a twin, but thankfully, about a decade and a half after pestering my mom to give me a twin sister, I found something that I now believe is better.  Sarah is my heart twin, the sister that was not born into but has become a part of my family.  Experiences with her have far surpassed any dream I had for fun having and clothes sharing.  She has been right at the center of all my most important occasions, supporting me and cheering me on.  She has been at the center of even more of my most fun and treasured memories.  

Sarah has figured out the magic balance of going along with my plans to indulge me while, at the same time, challenging me to be spontaneous and flexible.  In the same way, during more serious times, she lets me explore what I think and respects my perspective but is never afraid to share hers.  She's my most extroverted friend, but time with her can sometimes still count as introvert time.

My best friend is the most joyous person I know, seeing every new day as an opportunity to love God and others.  She brings life and fun into all things, including, amazingly, that one time she came with me to tour a mortuary for extra credit in a class I was taking.  She jumps in like that, welcoming herself into any situation and subsequently being welcomed because of the gifts of joy and laughter and life she brings to any situation. 

God brought you into my life at just the right time, bess frenn.  Thank you for years of special memories and gut wrenching laughter.  You will forever be one of my favorite people, someone who loves me for exactly who I am and builds me up to be someone better, someone who rushes to my side when anything awful happens not to fix me or bring a band-aid or say the right things but to simply cry with me and hurt with me and hug me, someone who understands my humor but laughs with me even when you don't, someone who my life would be grey and dull without.  Thank you for putting effort into actively being in my life and sharing yours with me, even from so far away. Thank you for supporting my dreams and having grace for my shortcomings.  Thank you for all you've taught me and all the adventures you've taken me on.  You are the treat that never gets old.  Happy, happy birthday, BCP.