"I've never been in love."

My dog’s name is Mimu and I love her. I love her because she is adorable, eternally small, and follows me absolutely everywhere. No matter how many times a day I leave the house—regardless of whether I’ve been gone 5 minutes or 5 hours—she greets me with the same wiggling tail and excited squeaks. She cuddles with me at night and “guards” me during the day. I LOVE her. [that said, I do not believe that there is a “doggie heaven” where our beloved pets go when they die…even though I will gladly take their love here on Earth as a little tiny piece of heaven here :]

This just got me thinking on love in general: I have never loved a man in my entire life. I thought I did, once, but I didn’t. I’ve never once trusted a man that I had any romantic relationship with. And I’ve never once—not for a moment—stopped trying to be the girl I thought the guy I was with wanted to be dating.

I was just hoping that maybe if I acknowledged that out loud, something would change. I’m 22 years old and never gotten past puppylove. 

"I've got to slow down to keep up."

I no longer work at the coffee shop. Shortest term of employment {ever}.

After a week of work—exactly 18 hours—and around $150.00 of a paycheck, I am done. My food allergies reared their ugly heads against the powdered dairy drinks I had to make regularly {and probably the bread loaves and egg salads I had to work with} and the headaches and skin rashes just weren’t worth it. It made me pretty sad because I really liked my coworkers and bosses! Liked them a lot. Felt like I had worked there for years, actually. That said, after I informed my supervisors I could no longer work, I had {what felt like} this revelation from God where He let me know that I had run ahead of His plans by taking that job.

I admit, I never prayed about applying there. But in my defense, how much more non-committal can 18 hours a week as a barista, get?! I just wanted to do something while I’m sitting here in Mitchell. It’s so boring. I’m going stir crazy.  It seems that God has grounded me to my parents’ basement in Mitchell. Gah.

Also, in recent job news, I have been asked to apply for the Assistant Show Choir Director position at Mitchell High School. Essentially, if I got the job, I would be in charge of directing the rehearsals and competition season of a new prep-choir at the school. Anyone who knows me knows this is RIGHT up my alley and something I never dreamed I would have the opportunity to do. So I completed my application… and have now stared dumbstruck at my computer screen for 2 days as I find myself unable to push the “Print” button on my resume. I feel like God is telling me not to apply for this job. I feel like He has something different in the future that will cause conflicts with this job, maybe? I also feel like I’m freakin’ crazy turning down a great job with nothing else on the horizon.

I think I’m gonna wait on the Lord. I am going to try my best to keep in step with the Spirit. I would hate to miss something He has for me. I’m going to wait on Him, so when this all works out {sometime soon?} He can get ALL THE GLORY.

“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

“We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.” Psalm 33:20

“Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for Him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.” Psalm 37:7

"I am sorry."

God I am so sorry that I have such little faith in you. Thank you for the past two days.


Thank you especially for unexpected opportunities, today's $40.00 tip share, and that [really] handsome customer that came into the coffee shop this afternoon.

"I am done justifying myself."

Have you ever felt like you had to justify yourself to someone? How about felt like you had to justify yourself to everyone? ENTER: my life.

This week I took on a very part-time job at a local coffee shop in Mitchell to make a little bit of money and meet new people {since, against all my hopes, friendly strangers aren’t coming to my parents’ basement and making friends with me....why not?}. As nice as all the people I am meeting are, unfortunately I find myself across the counter at work from a lot of people that I used to know. Old classmates, teachers, friends’ parents, family friends, etc. and the second we make eye contact I IMMEDIATELY begin thinking of how I'm going to explain why I’m currently working very part-time at a local coffee shop. I can see the wheels turning in their heads while they look at me, probably wondering, “What happened with Kayla? She was such a good student…always thought she was gonna go out and do something.” Or maybe I’m paranoid.

I find myself wanting to say things like:

“I’ve got a really good job offer in the works…I’m just waiting for things to become official.”

“Oh hey—yeah, I graduated from college, Summa Cum Laude, actually. I have a degree in Social Work and Spanish, I just feel like I’m supposed to be in Mitchell right now, you know, being close to family.”

“It’s not that I don’t have any ambition. I am just keeping my options open right now.”

“I’m waiting on God. He isn’t telling me what to do right now, so I thought this might be a good place to wait.”

That’s the truth and short of it. I feel like God wants me here. But everyday that goes by without any change—no new job offer, no new friendship, no news on an internship, no obvious progress—and I get a little more anxious. A little more doubtful. More bitter. Less faithful? It’s been almost 2 months since I resigned myself to staying in Mitchell. Is God telling me something, and I’m just missing it?

"I didn't really know God."

 I started a new women’s bible study last Tuesday called, When Wallflowers Dance by Angela Thomas {and, so far, I’d recommend it… }. Last night—as I sat and watched the video for week one with a room full of women that I have everything & NOTHING in common with all at the same time—I couldn’t help but envy the joy so apparent in the author/speaker. I am so tired of being bored. I’m sure others are tired of me being boring. I started wondering why I don’t walk around just exploding with joy if I really believe what I say I believe. I am a chosen child of God! At the moment of my salvation, God’s wrath towards me ended! As-if-I’d-never-sinned. He has conquered the grave! Those who seek Him will find life abundant! And not only have I read these Truths, but I have experienced them.

So how can I find any excuse to walk around not shouting that hope to the rest of the world?!

God is showing me that I showed up on the day of my salvation in heels. I guess you could say I accepted my salvation and made SURE I wasn’t going to hell, but in all actuality I never really felt like I had done anything that bad to begin with. Like, “Thanks Jesus, but I pretty much had it covered myself.” God I am SO SORRY!!! :-O That basic {and unacknowledged} assumption left me unforgiving, arrogant, prideful, judgmental, and untransformed for most of my Christian life. I was reading in the Old Testament where it says, “Restore to me the joy of my salvation,” and I realized that I had also robbed myself of that joy. What was there to be joyous about/thankful for if I had my sin taken care of?

Today, I ask the Lord to grant me a second chance at the joy of my salvation. I am so very tired of being bored and mediocre. 

"I settle for mudpie holidays."

This is one of my favorite quotes by C.S. Lewis. I wish I could write words like this. Today the words are speaking to my heart. Here’s to hoping they speak to yours:

"If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

Why did I text my loved ones rather than call? {this one is past tense. I got rid of texting.)

Why do I call rather than visit?

Why do I surf online when I could be fully present with the people around me?

Why do I resort to blogging before mentoring?

Why do I spend 20x the amount of time training physically than I do spiritually?

Why would I rather escape for 2 hours with a movie than read my Bible?

Why do I put on a new outfit/haircut/accessory before I put on the armor of God?

I am such an ignorant child…contently making my mud pies…

"I am not a morning person."

This morning I was woken up by my incredibly annoying—I mean, adorable—puppy. In all actuality, we share a single waterbed and she spends most of each night guaranteeing her spot at the exact center of the it because the bed is a tad too full of water and swells in the middle when we lay down. This morning, that meant that she decided to sit half on my pillow, a quarter on my hair, and a quarter on my forehead, and scratch herself uncontrollably. I woke up with flashes of what I can only assume is comparable to Shaken Baby Syndrome. To compound my foul mood, it’s a Saturday morning, and my plans today didn’t include seeing this end of 7:00 AM.

I am 22 and living back at home so 4 years ago I traded in my own bedroom for a college dorm and have never looked back. Currently, my “bedroom” is a bed in the wet bar/kitchenette of my parents’ basement. If I sit up tall enough in my bed, I can see my reflection in the mirrored backsplash of the countertop. My bed is close enough to that countertop that I could do triceps pushups with my hands on the counter and heels on my bed {if I was ambitious like that}.

The truth is, that mirrored backsplash has the potential to set my mood for the entire day. I have a bad habit of waking up in the morning and—before doing anything else— looking at my reflection in that mirror…bed head, swollen ‘sleep face,’ pillow wrinkles, and all. I might be a morning person in general, but my poor puffy eyelids are not. The effect that one glance can have on the rest of my day is wide reaching and usually negative. It changes how I feel, how I treat people around me, what I do with my day, and what I think I’m worth.  I allow myself to be led around by the nose all day by my feelings. Stupid, I know.

This morning was different. Before I sat up in bed, I asked God to protect my eyes and my heart. It definitely wasn’t an eloquent prayer, but He answered it. My bed head is no less tragic than usual right now but my day is not revolving around how it makes me feel. I can’t even explain how today is different because God is the difference {not me}. Glory to God in the Highest.

"I've led a double life."

I’m quickly learning the hard way that duplicity is life’s road sign for DEAD END AHEAD.

If you want to wind up in a dead end spiritually, physically, relationally, or emotionally speaking: make sure you have yourself so tied up in your different “personas” that you can’t take two steps forward without the paranoia of someone catching you off-guard. Have lots of groups of friends—your church friends, your drunk-night friends, your intellectual friends, the list goes on—and make sure that those groups never meet. Make sure to avoid at all costs, for example, your church friends catching you blending in far too convincingly with your atheist friends; make sure your intellectual friends never catch you planning your next wasted night via text message with the drunk-night friends; and for God’s sake don’t let your parents know that you are living with your boyfriend. And, of course, keep all these things secret for the sake of your friends’/family’s convenience and ultimate happiness, not because of your overwhelming compulsion to conceal your double {triple, or quadruple}-life. Yeah, give this plan a try and in 4 weeks you will undoubtedly be facing at least one dead end in life.

I’ve done all these things. I had a different outfit, hairstyle, hobby, and vocabulary for every group of friends I knew. I was really good at fitting in with all of them, and I liked losing myself in the people around me. Sure, I had to become really good at lying in order to pull off all my different roles—you know, to explain to my oldest friends who knew me the best that I really wasn’t spending too much time with that boy {that I probably shouldn’t have been dating anyway}. It didn’t matter because I could walk that bull$hit line so well that no one every truly caught me in my own mess.

Then one day, tired of my own games, I remembered God. More accurately, God’s Holy Spirit reminded me of His eternal witness of my life. The things hidden from everyone else in my life were in His plain sight. He said, “Kayla, I know.” It happened over a year ago and was so painful that I knew my games were done. First, God began teaching me my identity in Him. Then, He held up all of my different “masks” against His truth and together we sorted out the ones that didn’t honor Him. In all honesty, it meant ending some relationships with absolutely no explanation on my part. And I’m still working on untangling myself from the mess I created, a year later.

It is so peaceful to not have to juggle my life. Now, sometimes I see that people {who I could have impressed in the past} don’t find me interesting or impressive or worth their time. Yet some people do like who I am—who I am ALL the time—and those authentic relationships more than exceed any fabricated mess I could have made. That freedom is so sweet.

"I'm ready to share some happy."

I recently read a blog of an account of a young, collegiate woman’s experiences of a summer trip to India. Besides being awed by her literary prowess and insightful outlook, I took away a lesson from her writings. In particular, she wrote about the extreme, sacrificial kindness she experienced from locals, complete strangers, in the country, and how she decided to vow to dedicate the rest of her trip to fulfilling the happiness of others as she had been fulfilled. I don’t know where that woman is in her faith journey—but I know that God is ALL over that kind of mentality. It reminds me a lot of Jesus’ words, “To keep your life you must lose it.”

I took her advice, Jesus’ advice rather, this past couple of weeks. I spent all day today redecorating my little sister’s bedroom, organizing her drawers, and washing her bed set because I wanted to make her feel special. I also rearranged my parents’ basement and {if I do say so myself} it looks better than it has looked in years so that my mom doesn’t feel so overwhelmed when she steps into the abyss of our basement. All last week I picked up my mom from her workplace and we went and ate a 20 minute lunch with my grandma everyday so she didn’t have to spend ALL of her day alone in her reading chair. I give away hugs at a frequency that would astonish most of the people who know me. Don’t get me wrong—doing these things does make ME happy—but it wasn’t what I was doing that made me smile. It was the who behind it all. A lot of the time it wasn’t convenient or glamorous, but I have felt more joy and community with people than I have in…maybe ever? The world  is so much more beautiful when it stops revolving around me.

Oh yes, and I was also an involuntary blood donor to a VERY hungry spider this week, as well. I hope it is really, really, really happy because I donated 11 times from my neck to my bellybutton.

"I'm not that big of a deal."

I am 22. A college graduate. I still don’t know what my “calling” is in life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve prayed about this and tried my options, but {professionally speaking} I am only a bachelor’s degree away from where I was in 2006 when I graduated high school. I As I went into college, I had a feeling that I was starting a journey to discover what God REALLY wanted me to do with my life. I enrolled in college with a general degree. Soon after I began reading course catalogs and major/minor listings at my college with the expectation that I was just going to know what I was going to do with my life when I finally saw it on these lists in black and white.

It sounds so stupid now…but I was ready for nothing less than a scene right from the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. Intense music, lots of sparks, yelling out, “Marine Biologist!” {like Kimberly the pink ranger used to yell out, “Pterodactyl!!”}, as my dolphin or manatee Zord came flopping up towards me in the background…minus the synthetic body suit, I suppose. My thighs were regrettably not made for pleather.

My point is, it never happened. I never had an “AHA!” moment when I decided to major in Social Work and Spanish. I have held jobs that ranged from building houses in Juarez, Mexico to serving coffee in small-town Sioux Falls. I have found moments of joy and drudgery in all of it. And now I’m graduated, and it should come as no surprise to me that I have no specific calling as I look for a job. I am grateful for my college education, but I acknowledge that it wasn’t my destiny to be a social worker. I’ve learned a lot but I’m also over $20,000 in debt. Jesus calls me to love and He’s making it pretty clear that I can do that anywhere, doing anything. I’m just supposed to abide in Him no matter what. 

"Work is relative."

I’ve learned during this week of unemployment that the idea of “work” is relative. What is considered an obligation or chore to one person could be an opportunity or even fun for another. Case{s} in point:

My mom was asked to create a page about herself to be put in a classroom scrapbook this week. After listening to her complaints about this responsibility one afternoon in our kitchen, I volunteered to put together a page with cutouts and photos for her. I DON’T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I’VE HAD MORE FUN looking through magazines for letters and pictures to cut out and collage. It consumed my entire day—taking photos, getting them developed, cutting them into shapes, and designing a page. I even caught myself a few times with my “nerd face” on…tongue slightly sticking out the side of my mouth as I focused intensely on the small cuts I was making with my scissors. She loved it, and I got a chance to let my creative juices flow after years of damming it up at college and impending adulthood.

Then, my sister came to me {seeing my natural artistic ability…and virtual 24/7 schedule of unadulterated free time} and asked me to design a visual aid for a speech she had to give. I confess this here, being COMPLETELY assured that my sister’s elderly high school speech teacher will never find herself perusing my blog. Anyway, I again leapt at the chance to sketch and create, and happily sacrificed my dignity {again, with the appearance of the dreaded nerdy face} and standing appointment with the couch during Judge Greg Mathis on FOXtv, for the project.

Finally, yesterday the weather was SO beautiful that I found myself outside pulling weeds from my parents’ rock beds outdoors as an excuse to be outside. {haha, don’t you like that my parents’ kitchen is “ours,” but the weed-and-bug-infested rock beds are strictly “theirs”?} Despite the dirt that is still wedged under my fingernails, pulling those weeds was so INCREDIBLY calming. The vines I pulled had many arms and covered a lot of surface area but came out easily with one, long, solitary root system. It made me so happy to hear that faint *pop before I tossed the dead weeds out into the lawn.

All this week made me ask myself, why did these things used to feel like work to me? Because someone said, “Anything work you bring home from school is a chore,” and, “Pulling weeds is no fun” ? Hmph. Am I am so inundated by outside opinions and norms that I don’t even know what I like to do anymore? 

So guess what? I like pulling weeds and doing homework! I like tweezing my eyebrows and exercising to the point of ammonia-breath! I love bland, crunchy flax cereal and cutting my dog's hair myself even if it takes me hours! Call me weird, I'm fine with it.

"Progress is slow."

guitar progress: I can now play all simple chords A, C, D, E, F, and G.  My failed attempts at the elusive B chord continue to leave my left forearm in spasm and wondering if my fingers really are webbed and I just never noticed before.  On a side note, I cannot believe pinky fingers were meant to stretch that far away from their other, finger friends. Every fingertip on my left hand feels like it came in contact with a hot stove top, but my calluses are slowly building. I bought a capo {found out that’s actually pronounced, kAY-poh—and I’m really glad I figured that out…erm…before I made a fool of myself in front of the music store employee today…yeah, before that}, I can now plod my way through some of my favorite songs, and I got my hands on a thumb pick that slips over the first knuckle like a ring! Pity it’s a tad too small and cuts off the circulation to my finger so it’s all purplish/black on the end when I get done practicing, but I think it’s too cool; I will risk a gangrenous thumb for vanity like a woman in high heels risks bunions for the sake of sexy-looking legs. Overall, good progress here.

job progress: none…kind of. I got a call today from Volunteers of America in Sioux Falls about a position I applied for, which was really unsettling for me. I guess I expected to not get any calls from any of the jobs I applied for because I know that God wants me to stay put in Mitchell for a while and prepare for this trip in November. Thing is, I am learning He doesn’t work like that—taking away our freedom to decide and forcing us to do His will. So as much as it unsettled me, it only made this decision to wait on Him all the more beautiful because I realize that I chose it. I had other options, forsook them, and chose this path instead. That said, I do need a job in the near future.

Maybe I could figure out a way to blog for money {???}, as this is quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do each day.

"Food has been a really crumby friend."

confession time: I spent 15 minutes in the candy aisle of Walgreens today. I walked out of the store empty handed, devoid of sugar {and love}, but I roamed the lonely aisle for a quarter of an hour today as if standing at a meeting place, waiting for an old friend that never showed to meet me. I left feeling alone and dejected.

Most anyone who knows me knows that I have a laundry list of food allergies that drastically limit my diet. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have issues with food that go deeper than hives. Let’s be honest people: I don’t love food because I enjoy its taste in my mouth when I eat it. I love {&hate} food because when I put it in my mouth it sprouts little legs and arms and dances with me when I am happy, entertains me in my boredom, rallies behind me in my anger, and holds me when I am sad. Knowing that, perhaps you can now understand why I was so disappointed today when it didn’t do any of these things.

I say this to attest to the constant working of the Holy Spirit in my life—work that I am not even conscious of until one day {like today} when I nonchalantly enter into my daily routine and find something has changed without my knowledge. Kind of like when you sit down at the piano without sheet music to play a song you’ve known for years, and halfway through the song you lose your place mentally and you just can’t pick the song back up no matter how hard you try because you realize you don’t play the song by notes anymore but by the memories in your fingertips.

I really tried to “pick up that song” with those Swedish Fish today in Aisle 7, but I couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. It’s like the quote by Oswald Chambers I have at the top of this blog: “You will never cease to be the most amazed person on earth at what God has done for you on the inside.”

Thanks be to God for showing me today that food has been a really {crumb.y} friend. 

"I thought I had good relationships."

I never imagined I would have such fodder for my blog {so quickly}. Already God is showing me exactly how necessary it is for me reprioritize and simplify. I am reaping the consequences of 22 years of self-centeredness. When God told me to love others—my family being first and foremost—I guess I figured everyone would be standing around with open arms, waiting for my affection and care. Never realized that the ones I ignored for so long stopped waiting for me a long time ago. {humbling}. It’s like someone handing back your unopened gift and telling you, “I don’t want this. You keep it.” It makes me angry, frustrated, indignant, defiant, and hurt all at the same time. It makes me want to write them off—to forget about them, and deny that their actions affect me. {but they do}. It sure doesn’t make me want to love them more.

Did I seriously mistake lending my sister my jewelry with having a relationship with her? What do my brothers dream of doing with their lives? What about my dad—what was the last real thing we ever shared? I guess I know enough about my family members to get through certain outings. You know, the kind where company comes over and the family all sits together and says things like, “Remember the one time that [insert touching memory here]…” and everyone laughs hysterically or smiles fondly, and the guests are foolishly impressed. Except after the guests leave, no one ever dares to admit that it only WAS that ONE time. Instead, we kid ourselves into thinking that that one happy day singlehandedly made up for 1,000 shitty ones. {And we skate along in life, mistaking the proximity of our bedrooms for personal relationship with one another}.

How did this happen? Will I even be able to fix it? Maybe nobody can relate with me. I really hope nobody does {because this hurts too much}. I have a feeling I would rather eat MUD than the humble pie that is lying upon the starting line of this new relational journey I’m embarking on. 

Oh why did I ever think simplifying was going to be simple?

"I'm ready for change."

I've thought for awhile about starting a blog, but always worried whether or not anyone would bother reading my trivial quips and thoughts. Today, I woke up and didn't fret for a moment about anyone else's opinion...and thus, today I feel I am finally ready to start. Hopefully some day in the near future I will have the energy to elaborate on the recent happenings that have led me to today, because this is NOT that day. {and it's a pretty neat story}. Anyway, it's mostly God's story...though my blog will focus on my mostly small role in it.


I've spent the last 22 years of my life living up to expectations {sometimes imagined} of the world, my parents, my friends, my professors, popular culture, and myself. I've never been to jail--or even detention, for that matter--, never been fired, never failed a test, always been on time, graduated with honors, been a model citizen, and a self-proclaimed teacher's pet. I volunteer, go to church, and respect my elders. And I don't think I've ever REALLY disappointed anyone. Except probably God. 


Thing is, I wound my self up so tight in this awful bubble wrap of expectation and performance, that I somehow forgot that WHO I am isn't WHAT I am. And God doesn't care WHAT I am. {dang it}. So, I found myself planning my life this summer, job hunting in Sioux Falls...handing out resume after resume...because that's what good people do when they graduate college, right? I was going to get a job in my field of study, with good benefits, begin saving 25% of every paycheck, and pay back my student loans in record time. I was going to live alone, be near my friends on weekends, begin building my professional wardrobe, take care of my adorable puppy, and begin life as an impressive "adult." 


{Forgive me for now, but here's where I need to insert a background story, of sorts} Then I felt God said, "No, Kayla. No move, no 401k, no prestige, no planning. No financial stability, no impressive full-time job, nothing to boast about, at all, really. You are unloving, prideful, and striving. Maybe no one else sees that in you, but I do." {ouch}. "But don't worry my child, we're going to work on all of that. Just be still and listen."


Well, guys, I'm listening. And I'll let you know what I hear. In the meantime, I'm living in my parents' basement in Mitchell, SD. I am brushing up on my Spanish skills and teaching myself the guitar to prepare for a trip to the Dominican Republic in November where I will be translating and leading worship for our team. I am going to let God show me how to love people {even my family!} who hurt me. I am letting God overhaul my priorities. I may even begin building my career as a part-time grocery store clerk. And I'm really going to try to narrate this stage of life with some humor--because the somberness of this first post is just killing me, it is. 


Until then.