Kendall

Adventures (and Lessons) in Adult Acne

Published on August 2, 2022August 6, 2022 by KendallLeave a comment

Never did I think I would write a post about my recent acne/skincare journey, but leave it to the Lord to use it to teach me something, so here goes- Introducing: my adventure with adult acne and what it reminded me about life itself…

A couple months ago, my skin basically lost its mind and broke out pretty badly. I never had the clearest skin ever, but I felt confident and happy enough with it. I have always enjoyed both going bare-faced and wearing makeup, and I usually felt confident enough to do either whenever I felt like it. I always have, however, had hormonal acne that always would flare up every month (in hindsight, it was never *that* bad, but it was worse than its regular state and would feel bad at the time).

Around early/mid-February, my skin flared up, and I assumed it would calm back down again as usual. Instead, my skin continued to break out and got worse and worse… by the end of March, it was the worst it had ever been.

I tried various remedies at home, product after product being cycled through, and nothing seemed to help. At one point, I feared that I, myself, was exacerbating the problem.

I know acne is not really a big deal in the big scheme of things, but it really did have a significant impact on how I saw myself and felt in my own skin, as well as my desire to get out and engage with others. I felt super insecure, trying to cover it with makeup as best as I could, and I also felt very uncomfortable because my face quite literally hurt and was in pain from it all. I’m in my early 20s, so you can imagine my frustration at the emergence of this new acne, as I thought surely all of that was behind me in my teens…

After weeks of frustration trying to remedy it myself, I went to an esthetician who essentially told me it was breaking out because of my diet (without asking me anything about it) and that “if I cut out dairy and gluten it would help it clear up.” I suppose that is fine advice in general, but what she didn’t know is that a) I already do try to find little ways to cut back on both in general and b) I had not made any significant changes to my lifestyle or diet that would have caused this insane breakout out of the blue. I wasn’t eating anything new, I wasn’t taking any new medication, I had been working out MORE, not less, and my skin had never been reactive to my stress (or else senior year of college would have been ROUGH for my poor skin), so it seemed that there was no logical explanation for why my face was now covered with painful breakouts.

Regardless of the fact that I knew all of these things to be true, though, I still left feeling like it was in fact all my fault. Besides, I’m no skincare expert, so I thought maybe it really was because of something I unknowingly did wrong.

Trusting in her professional opinion, I let the esthetician do a particular treatment to my skin. Ultimately, said treatment did not do anything to improve it, so I then decided it was time to seek out a different kind of professional to help me and went to a dermatologist.

Right off the bat, it was a different experience. There was no judgement on me for the situation, but instead, he calmly assured me to “not worry, because we will figure it out and get it cleared up.” He took time to really understand me and my medical history to see why it could be breaking out. Talk about a very different tone! One experience had me feeling guilty and accepting blame for something that was not truly my fault, and another had me hopeful that we could work together and find a solution. One approach was judgement and condemnation, and one was hope. That dermatologist was truly my lifesaver during the peak of this *skin crisis.*

Our first course of action did not work, so I scheduled a follow up with him. Again, he took the time to actually sit and hear me out, prompting for more information and assuring me that we would figure out this frustrating situation. He then casually asked if I had ever tried birth control for acne in the past, to which I shared that I had taken it years ago for a short time after having a couple ruptured ovarian cysts, but I had never taken it for acne (and did not want to).

That one comment prompted a whole other thought process and discussion from him. He listed various signs and symptoms that I had been experiencing recently, ones that I had totally just written off, and he suggested getting bloodwork done to check for certain factors- something I would not have even considered.

I went to my doctor and got the bloodwork done, telling her what the dermatologist said, and then I waited for the results. The whole time I waited, I prepped myself for them to come back and say everything looked normal and nothing was off. After all, when you go to the doctor, you usually don’t want them to tell you something is wrong with you, right? But this time, I knew that I would feel worse, not better, if that in fact was true.

It wasn’t that I hoped something would be wrong; All I wanted was to know that there was in fact a REASON for what I was experiencing. I could cross that bridge of “what’s next” later, but in that moment I just needed to know that there was a reason for my situation.

What I didn’t want to hear was that my change of circumstances had come about with no good reason, and that it was all for random.

When the nurse called me and told me that there were in fact levels that were abnormal, the same ones my dermatologist told me to check, I breathed a sign of RELIEF, because I finally had answers as to why this all had been happening. And I even had a course forward to correct some things that were off in my blood. It wasn’t anything crazy, serious, or majorly significant…

But there it was. There was a reason behind my circumstances. It felt like there was a purpose to the pain- because it led me to a revelation of something deeper going on in my body instead of just having a weird breakout.

And guess what else? It wasn’t my fault at all!

Isn’t that what we all want? I’m not talking about acne anymore, but just in life. Whenever we walk through challenging, painful, or uncertain circumstances, do we not desperately hope that there is some kind of bigger reason or purpose for them all? I know I do!

We want to know that it was not random, that it was not all for nothing.

Sometimes, we do get to see that immediate, tangible reason (in this case, my bloodwork), and we are given a clear path to get through address it (medications), but sometimes it is not as clear. But just because we don’t see the reason, it does not mean that there was not one. Sometimes it’s just not as easy to see.

So why don’t we see it sometimes? So many reasons, at least in my experience. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place; Maybe we aren’t looking from the right perspective; Maybe we are so focused on what we think the reason should be that we totally miss it when we see it; Or maybe, it is just something that we aren’t meant to understand or know on this side of Heaven.

In the case of my skin and recent health, I so easily could have missed the reason. I could have kept on trying to treat it myself, in my own strength and with my very limited knowledge, never getting to the root cause and learning that something was off. I could have stopped at that esthetician, accepting blame that wasn’t mine to take on, and again, never even knowing the unseen forces at play. I could have placed my hope in the wrong places: my own abilities and the wrong authority, and I would have totally missed the answer I was desperate for.

Had I not seen that specific dermatologist and been guided to ask my doctor for the specific tests, I would have never thought to pursue it, nor would I have been emboldened to do so, in all honesty. In all reality, he might not have even thought to suggest it to ME had I not offhandedly mentioned a very small, specific piece of my medical history. All the pieces had to come together for me to learn the reason: pursuing the right counsel and authority, the right perspective, the right direction, and the right next steps. Everything fell into place and guided me to a reason, and in this case, a solution.

It is so comforting to learn the reason for things, but there is also an alternate, frustrating reality in many cases: try as we might, and as much as we wish for it, we may never receive the specific answers/reasons for the things that we endure in this life. But again, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t one. I could have gotten a clean bill of health with my blood, but that wouldn’t have negated the fact that something caused it. There was a reason for the breakouts, even if I hadn’t received an answer as to what it was. Similarly, there is a “why” and a purpose to all the pain we endure in this life, and that is more important than us trying to comprehend every single reason behind everything we experience.

What is important is how everything, no matter how awful or grand, can serve a purpose in God’s glorious plan for your life. Nothing is for not so long as He is in the picture. Whether we get our tangible answer or not, there is always the same simple purpose behind our struggles in this life.

Ultimately, in all situations, the ever-present answer of “why” is simply this: that we endure it and turn it for His glory.

Even when it feels so, nothing is simply a random, pointless experience, because everything can and should be used to point to His glory. Even when things don’t feel “good,” we can rest in the simple fact and assurance that He is good and is turning all things for His good. He does not cast pain and hardship onto His children, but He does take all of that pain (that oftentimes is purely a result of our own free will and sinful nature), and He gives it a purpose.

Our flesh is programmed to favor what is tangible. We seek comfort in our answers, our reasons, our validations that what we are experiencing has a justification behind it. But whether we find that explanation or not, that comfort is fleeting. The things of this world will fade, along with every last one of our justifications and explanations, but at the end of the day, at the end of our life, there He will still be- steadfast, constant, and all powerful.

We were not created to solve our problems in our own strength. We were not created to seek our ultimate validation and self-worth from false, earthly authority. We were not created to shoulder a burden of guilt and self-loathing upon our shoulders. We were not created to have every answer. We were intended to seek first His kingdom, to pursue Him with all our mind, soul, and strength. We are instructed to lay down our struggles at His feet, knowing that He will give us the strength to endure, even if He never gives us a single answer as to why. We were created to do all things for the glory of our God and trust Him to bring beauty from our ashes, purpose from our pain.

Because of the sacrifice of Jesus, though we so desperately strive and hope to have closure, to know the “why” behind our deepest sufferings, we can still have complete hope and peace if those answers never come. Even if our questions remain unanswered on this side of Heaven, we can know with complete conviction that there can be a purpose to our pain. That purpose is more important than any earthly explanation, and that is simply to praise and glorify the very One who created our desperate, questioning spirits.

So in those moments of desperation and hopelessness, we trust that no matter the valleys we walk through, we are never aimlessly wandering in pointless isolation. We are held, guided, loved, and seen in our darkness, and every breath we breathe has beautiful purpose, no matter how labored it may feel. A new breath is coming, because with Him, there is hope with every.last.step.

“When I ‘lived abroad…'”

Published on March 21, 2022March 21, 2022 by KendallLeave a comment

As much as I feel like I have shared about my life on here, I strangely enough never did share about one of the very best experiences of it… the time I studied abroad the summer after my freshman year of college.

I know what you’re thinking, “Great, another former college student talking about how a short stint abroad ‘changed their life.'” There is that stereotype of the young adult/college student that takes a trip abroad for a few weeks or months and claims that it changed their life and everything about them. I’ve seen the memes, I’ve watched the TikToks, and I know all about that stereotype. As someone who did take such a trip, I totally love memes and see their point, because yeahhh sometimes it’s a little obnoxious; There are some downright hysterical ones out there too, for what it’s worth! 😉 I mean, how much can your life really ‘change’ in such a short period of time?

But here’s the thing… those claims, the ones of having one’s life changed, I do kind of see their merit. Maybe it looks small to the rest of the world, and maybe, yes, there is absolutely some exaggeration there in MANY accounts, but to say that they’re alllll just over-inflating the actual impact of the experience? Well, perhaps that just isn’t fully true. Maybe there is a little shred of truth in there. Maybe something doesn’t have to be earth-shattering to be life-altering.

Now, don’t worry, I am not here to say that I “lived abroad” after only four weeks or play into the stereotype, but instead, I just wanted to share a change of perspective that I experienced as a result of such an experience.

Think about that best friend that you met back in school. Think about how within such a short time of knowing them, you felt like you had known each other forever and could no longer imagine life without them. You didn’t need a year to develop a life-changing friendship, just a short time left an eternal impact on your life. Experiences are like that too.

July 2019, I spent four weeks in Northern Ireland studying Irish Literature and Culture at Queen’s University Belfast. I had the opportunity to do so through the US-UK Fulbright Commission, and it was one of the single most incredible experiences of my entire life.

For those four weeks, my amazing roommates (my fellow Fulbright Summer Institute Participants) and I attended enriching classes and lectures, visited classic Northern Irish sites and landmarks, explored whenever and whatever we could, and even spent a whole weekend at a restored 17th century farmhouse in the Irish countryside. (Queue shameless photo dump in 3….2…1)

**I’ll never be over how beautiful it was**

Does that not look and sound like the best time?! If you’re not thinking a big “heck yes,” then I promise you you are wrong! It was a magical time.

These above pictures truly do not do the whole experience justice in all of its wonderful glory, but they also don’t chronicle the other side of things; they don’t tell of some of the harder times and struggles I encountered over in Belfast for those four weeks.

I can tend to be a generally anxious person by nature. It’s always worse when circumstances appear to validate those fears. For those that know me or have read along here for a bit, you know that I experienced a bit of an *exciting* event my first night of college that resulted in my moving back home 24 hours later (for those that don’t know what I’m talking about, you can hear the whoooole exciting saga here!).

What this meant was that I had never truly successfully lived away from home without some sort of scary, traumatic happening. My first time doing so would be that following summer, 19 years old, on the other side of the world, in Belfast. The program was not through my university, but through Fulbright, so I was traveling to Northern Ireland truly alone, and I would be meeting only strangers when I arrived.

Truth be told, part of why I applied to study in Northern Ireland there was that it was a mystery to me. What I did know absolutely intrigued me, but it was also the country I knew the least about from the program’s choices. I was interested in the culture, history, and nature of the people, but I did not know what that would look like in all reality.

When my taxi pulled away from the airport and into the heart of Belfast, where my apartment was located, my stomach dropped. It was not the rolling green hills that I had anticipated, but instead a heavily industrial city. Granted, I knew Belfast itself was an industrial city, but I didn’t fully realize that I would be living in the heart of that city during my time there instead of the more natural areas. Fun fact about me… I’m not a city girl. I grew up in a friendly suburban area, an hour outside of Atlanta, and to this day, I still dread having to drive into the city because it can make me anxious (but also, Atlanta drivers are their own kind of stressful, so there’s that…). The first bit of Belfast that I encountered sure looked a whole lot like parts of Atlanta, and that was a little nerve-wracking.

I then learned the true nature of Northern Ireland’s political landscape. I know I will not do the history justice, and I do not want to minimize or mis-explain it at all, so I HIGHLY recommend looking into it and The Troubles and their lasting impact, including paramilitary groups.

Did you look it up? Well if you did, then you know that the history is devastatingly intense, and the present still holds remnant of the Troubles’ effects, including the paramilitary groups that used to or still technically do exist in the area. I heard paramilitary, and my brain immediately said, “terrorists.fear.violence.death.” Queue the anxiety. I was already consumed by the newness of it all, but now I had very real dangers that my mind could blow out of proportion. In all actuality, I was in no danger, and the groups posed no active threat or danger to me, but they were an unfamiliar concept, and boy is it easy to fear what you don’t fully understand!

The first week I was in Belfast, I had to keep my brain from spiraling out of control. While the days were busy and packed full of amazing experiences that kept my mind full of curiosity and joy, the nights were hard. It was at night, alone, and left to my own thoughts that I felt the fear and unease begin to take over (There also was a time difference that prevented me from easily contacting my loved ones back home whenever I wanted, so the homesickness was real!). I would practically cry myself to sleep, on the verge of, if not in the middle of, a full blown panic attack every night. I was full of fear…Fear of the unknown, of what I knew but didn’t quite understand, and what I knew and understood too much about for my own good.

Each day and night, I earnestly sought the comfort of my Creator, crying out for strength and reassurance that all would be okay. One night, I began writing down my thoughts. The sparknotes version of them looked like this: “God, give me the courage to step out of my comfort zone. Give me the courage to experience this country for all it has to offer without fear tainting it. Give me the courage to believe it all can be okay, that it all will be.” See, in the moments of fear, I was so caught up in what all could go wrong and how I could ‘fix’ it that I didn’t believe that it could really all just end up okay, let alone have confidence that it would. But that’s what I decided to hold onto and speak over my days, and those harder nights:

God, give me the courage to believe that it all will be okay.

When I felt fearful, I thought it; When I started to catastrophize, I thought it; When I felt overwhelmed, I thought it. I held onto that prayer and slowly began to really feel it. Then something really cool happened- I encountered an old favorite quote that I had forgotten about.

“Courage, dear heart.”
C.S. Lewis

Not only was that quote alone exactly what I needed to hear, but I soon realized that there were some cool coincidences tied to it. Stay with me here…

The quote itself is from the third book of C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia Series, “The Dawn Treader.” Lewis, a prolific Christian writer, was actually born in Belfast, so his name and image were all around me.

The location of Lewis’s birth in and of itself was neat to realize, but here is where the quote really came to life for me… Even though I had known and loved it for a while, truth be told, I did not very well know the actual context (I never finished reading the series, though it is in fact on the list, and I loved all that I have read!). I decided to research the context of the quote within the story, and here is what I learned: The quote was spoken by a bodiless voice to the young female character, Lucy, in a moment of great fear, danger, and peril. Lucy knew as soon as she heard it that it belonged to Aslan, the great Lion. Aslan, for those unfamiliar with Narnia, is an allegorical representation of Jesus. So plainly broken down and adjusted for its symbolism, this phrase was uttered to Lucy by Jesus when she was in a time of fear and danger. How easy it was for me then to swap out myself for Lucy, instead feeling as if it were God speaking directly to me, his daughter, in my time of fear and anxiety: “Courage, dear heart.”

So that prayer continued to give me strength, now even more so as I envisioned my God saying to back to me. Day by day, it got easier to believe it, to let go of the fear and anxiety and just embrace the excitement and mystery for all it was worth. Soon, I found myself truly settled in and thriving in this little season I was blessed to be in. I was living confidently, courageously, and with that brought much joy and many blessings.

I began to walk confidently through the city, as now it had a familiarity to it. My roommates and I went out downtown in the evenings to the pubs for some amazing live music (and yes, we tried the infamous Guinness, and it was far better than here in the states, but still not my total cup of tea…;)). On weekends, the five of us hiked up various mountains, taking in views of the city we were quickly falling in love with, daring to get a little lost along the way (literally). We even decided to take a weekend trip to Dublin to stay at a restored 17th century farmhouse in the middle of the Irish countryside. We were truly making the best of our time there and embracing our most adventurous sides.

All in all, the trip was fantastic and magical and gave me more core memories than I know what to do with, and it also gave me a very real chance to put my faith and trust into practice. All along, I was growing and transforming into a newer, better version of myself.

When I returned home four weeks later, I didn’t look any different, I didn’t really act all that different, but I had a different mindset that did not exist on the plane ride over, a certain confidence and peace had taken root.

The transition was most evident to me in my layover. One of the many perks of traveling through the Fulbright Commission was that they booked and covered our transportation. Both ways, they booked me flights that had layovers in London for about 5-6 hours each. When I had first landed in London from Atlanta, I was TERRIFIED. I was so thrown off by everything; I was confused by the airport and navigating customs, I was too intimidated to try out their currency to grab a bite to eat, and my phone had zero service in the moment, so I could not even initially contact my loved ones. I was a ball of complete and total anxiety. I was so afraid of missing my flight to Belfast that I found a spot by the announcement board, claimed my small space, and watched Netflix the whole time, not daring to move. I was so unsure of myself and anxious about the situation that I made myself as small and ‘safe’ as possible, not taking a single step out of my comfort zone.

The way back was a different story. Same airport, same layover time, different mindset. After flying into London from Belfast, I was hungry and ready to find some sustenance. Instead of sitting fearfully and anxiously as I once had, I explored the airport and found a bite to eat, confidently strolling through and stepping out of the routine that would have been most comfortable. Ironically, I found myself right back in the same spot as last time, in front of the same board, but this time, I spread out my lunch (respectfully, of course), made myself comfortable, and enjoyed my time in the airport.

Is this a groundbreaking story? No, of course not. But, it was enough of a boost for me to know that something had in fact changed. I had found a new, confident, adventurous part of myself. I trusted myself to step out of what was comfortable, and I trusted that God had me in His hands the whole way; I trusted that no matter what uncomfortable or anxiety-inducing experience I found myself in, it would all be okay.

And that brings me right back to my initial point… Yes, it is SO cliché to claim that that trip changed my life, but I went from someone who had never lived alone at all to someone who could navigate international airports and travel across the world all by herself. I had done something huge in my life.

Here is what that showed me: Every experience can leave a lasting impact and help mold you into the person you are meant to be, whether big or small. So no, I am not an expert on Northern Ireland, and I did only have four weeks there, but I know for a fact that the Kendall who left Atlanta that June 22 is a different version from the one who returned just four weeks later.

So maybe it does seem presumptive or wildly dramatic to say a short stint abroad, or a small experience in life can really change who you are. But maybe that’s the whole point… That these experiences, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant they are to ourselves or to those who are only onlookers, they hold the potential to be completely transformative. They all matter in the grand scheme of who we are. They all play a part in our personal growth and transformation. Don’t minimize an experience simply because the world says it’s too small to matter. Every little moment is a part of your story, and any little thing can be a catalyst for growth.

A few weeks really can change one’s whole life. A few days can, too. As can a few brief moments. The time for which you endure something or the sheer extent of it does not necessarily determine its impact on you or your life.

Every moment holds within it the potential to be used by God to craft you into the person He created you to be. Never minimize that.

He can use the smallest moments, the most random experiences, and the people you never even saw coming, or interacted with for that long even, to grow and transform you. Don’t get so caught up in the magnitude of something that you overlook the impact of it.

The little things? The little moments? They aren’t little.”
Jon Kabat-Zinn

Exactly. I couldn’t have said it any better myself.

Living, Loving, and Making God Laugh

Published on January 8, 2022February 28, 2022 by KendallLeave a comment

One summer day in between eighth grade and freshman year of high school, I was enjoying a pool day with one of my longest and dearest friends, Maddie. Maddie and I danced together for several years, and at that point, attended church together. As we were swimming and soaking up all the summer sun’s rays, we started to discuss every young girl’s favorite topic: boys. At this point in our lives, neither of us had had a boyfriend, nor had we kissed one or even been on a date.

We were both sharing our expectations and hopes for our love lives that were soon to come. We both had very clear ideas of what that would look like.

And guess what?! It went exactly as planned!

Yeah, that’s definitely not true… But hey, we were 14 and thought we knew how it would all go down. Little did we know how wrong we were.

Mads told me that she thought she might wait to date until she was in college and save her first kiss for her wedding day. I had opposite plans. I confidently said that I hoped I would have a boyfriend, and a first kiss, in high school. Granted, we still both had already made up our minds to wait for marriage for anything further, and we did maintain those values until present day, but that’s the only thing that day that we actually predicted correctly!

Update on how our love lives have ACTUALLY played out to today:

Mads was happily MARRIED to the love of her life almost two yeas ago at 20 years old (they recently finally got to go on their European honeymoon, a year later, as I write this!), she did in fact date in high school, and she had her first kiss before her wedding day. (Sorry Mads for spilling on your love life.. love you!) It has been the sweetest thing and such a joy watching my longtime dear friend find love and so much joy in being a wife. Me? I’m 22, I have graduated COLLEGE, and I still have not had any relationship at all, nor have I had any sort of first kiss. I also went on my very first “real date” just last year.

Needless to say, we got some things wrong with our predictions!

Have you ever heard the saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” Well, I think it’s safe to say that we might have given God a good chuckle that summer day!

In their hearts humans plan their course,
but the Lord establishes their steps.
Proverbs 16:9

To address an inevitable question I get when I share of my extended “season of singleness,” yes it was both by choice and not. Some years I was intentionally not dating, but other years I was open to it, but it just never happened. So, for those reading this who are younger than me and feel that they *have to* date in high (or nowadays even middle) school to be fulfilled, that is so not true! (but that’s also a whole soapbox for another time…)

As much as I do absolutely desire the companionship of a significant other, and believe me, I 100% hope to be married one day, I also find myself so thankful for the years of singleness that He has blessed me with. Granted, I don’t always feel this way in the moment (Christmastime is the worst with all of the cute couple-y things), and I know that that is perfectly okay to wrestle with it from time to time, but at a higher level, I get it and I see the blessing of it.

There have been various seasons of life, as we all experience, that left me stressed, upset, or struggling in some form or another. In these seasons, I have no doubt that had I had a significant other, I would have wanted to go right to him for comfort, that I would have sought peace and assurance in the arms of my fella. In the absence of this hypothetical man, though, I instead found myself running to someone far greater, I ran into the arms of my creator. I learned how to be dependent upon God and seek comfort and assurance in His presence and His word. It set a routine and precedence in my life that I can now maintain one day in a relationship as we both healthily run to God first, and run to Him together, in all things.

I also needed that time, this time, alone relationally to become who I needed to become, and it needed to happen independently from a significant other. For others, though, the opposite can be true, where God uses a relationship to foster growth and development, and I am sure that day, too, will come for me, but not thus far. It’s so cool how He really does have such unique plans for each of us down to the tiniest of details.

Many are the plans in a person’s heart,
but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.
Proverbs 19:21

I have always found that there are specific ways through which I come to hear and understand God best, one of those being through music. Several years ago, I was listening to a song that I loved and had heard before many times, but this time, one line stuck out to me. The song is “Different” by Micah Tyler, and the line is the following:

“I don’t need to recognize the man in the mirror, and I don’t wanna trade Your plan for something familiar.”

That line is full of such trust and surrender when you think through what it is truly saying. It is asking God for a transformation so potentially radical that one doesn’t even recognize themselves. It is giving up complete control over who we become and what happens, and it is surrendering a carefully constructed plan and image for whatever He has planned. What a shame would it be if we were to miss out on His perfect plan simply because we thought ours was better?

In order to see His plan and become what He wants us to be, we have to be willing and able to accept that things might not go the way that we hope or plan for, and we have to be willing to abandon all expectation in favor of His will and plans. We can’t cling to what’s comfortable and recognizable, but instead we must openly welcome complete transformation. Because in the simplest of terms, knowing Him, truly having a relationship with your Creator, it naturally brings about transformation of your mind, spirit, and soul.

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.
Ezekiel 36:26

I didn’t plan to be single at 22, with no relationship history to speak of, and as I shared above, this is not exactly what young-Kendall hoped for, but I learned, and every day am learning, the importance of accepting that things might (and probably will) look a bit different from what I had hoped- whether it’s in the littlest of details or the massive day-to-day aspects.

But this abandoning of expectations makes way for truly radical transformation. At the end of the day, that’s what I want. Yes, I want a husband, and yes, I one day want a family. Ultimately though, I want to be who God wants me to be, who He created me to be. All these other desires of my heart might grant earthly happiness and fulfillment, but it is only through walking in His plan for me and His will that I will find true fulfillment and joy.

In order to reach that though, I have to be willing to change everything, cast off anything that He wants gone from my life, and I have to be truly willing to look in the mirror one day, and see a stranger where my face once smiled back. I don’t need to recognize the woman in the mirror if this new face is who He created me to one day be.

That’s terrifying. And that’s okay. Surrender isn’t easy, and it’s not a one time thing. Yes, surrendering our lives to Jesus in the form of being saved is absolutely an instantaneous thing, but the daily walk or surrender, that is a minute by minute, day by day decision and process. It’s hard, but it’s worth it.

So all this to say, sometimes, we make ourselves laugh, at our past, at our former hopes and dreams, at who we once were, and oftentimes, we make God laugh with these plans and expectations that we think are set in stone. At the end of the day, though, while it’s scary to leave behind who you once were, it’s always worth it to look forward with complete surrender to who He is creating you to be, to be someone your past self wouldn’t recognize, but your future self will thank you for becoming.

Pandemics are for Prodigals

Published on September 7, 2021 by KendallLeave a comment

Oh how funny God’s timing is… I began writing this back in January, but I never quite got around to finishing or posting it. When I set out writing it earlier this year, the following was the first paragraph:

This post feels a bit different from the others that I have posted. Usually, I try and find some sort of devotional-like style to work within that shares a message or lesson that I have learned or have been learning. That is not as much the case in this one. See, I have some things that I need to get off my chest, and at the same time have a testimony that I know I need to share. So this is not so much a lesson, but honestly, this is just plainly and simply- my story. It’s my tale of the faithfulness of God and His ability and willingness to turn everything around if we are just willing to take that next step in humble obedience… Maybe it’s not even for anyone to hear, maybe I simply just needed to write it. I don’t know the answer, but I am just thankful that He does.

Ultimately, this post is still quite simply, a story of my last year, but it’s also more than that. As I write this now, I do see a clear strand of messages woven through the experiences and opportunities. I see instances where He took my smallest, most seemingly mundane answers of ‘yes,’ alongside the ones that felt like they were fundamentally shifting the very ground I was walking on, and He showed me the sheer power and redemption that exists in the presence of obedience. Just when I thought I was simply telling a story, He still wanted to subvert my expectations and teach me a lesson in return. Though, I’ll get to that shortly.

First, I have to tell you the story…

My family raised my brother and I as Christians, and we always attended nondenominational churches. When I was in fifth grade, a late night phone call between myself, my mom, and my Uncle Craig led to my salvation and acceptance of Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. In sixth grade, I was baptized, making public my commitment to God and a public declaration of my faith itself. I attended church camp many summers, whether affiliated with my church at the time or not, and was active in youth groups at certain periods of my life. All in all, I was raised a Christian and made the conscious decision to be a born again believer.

That all makes it sound so simple though, so easy, so straightforward, so consistent. The truth is far different than the carefully-crafted synopsis. But isn’t that always the case with life?

I am not secretive about my personal story of losing a best friend of mine to cancer my freshman year of high school, and part of my openness about it is that that was a season in which I found myself experiencing great intimacy with my Creator. My faith became so incredibly strong after losing her, and a good bit of that was because I knew that that would be the one thing that would help get me through such heartbreak. I felt so on fire for the Lord, sharing personal testimonies and devotional-style writings of messages I was learning through my own walk. That fire would start to dim though, as I let other aspects of life take priority and precedence over my own faith.

At a certain point in life, your faith has to become your own, not one that is curated by your parents or family. When it was on my own shoulders to pursue a relationship with Christ, I will confess, I majorly dropped the ball. I did not go to church regularly, I did not read my Bible, and I was very much a lukewarm Christian. I would listen to worship music at times, and still prayed, wrote about Him and what He would teach me and such, but I did not prioritize His presence in my life or carve out any amount of time or focus. I was lacking community in an earthly sense, and intimacy in a spiritual one. For years, I would seek out and yearn for genuine community, but I always fell short or struggled to find the right fit. I would pray for God to bring me home, but I honestly didn’t know just what that would look like.

I love the story of the prodigal son. I love how he was welcomed in by his father with open arms, regardless of how he’d strayed. I also love how the father ran to meet him, not even making the son run the whole way alone. Try as I might, I just simply cannot even begin to fathom the fact that the creator of the universe feels that way about us. I know it’s the truth, but it’s another thing to fully wrap my mind around and truly comprehend that unbelievable level of love. I spent years blowing Him off, placing temporary earthly desires above a relationship with Him, yet He still not only welcomed me in, but He was all the while loving and seeking me out. How mind-blowing is it that the Almighty God knows us, loves us, and desires and seeks out such intimacy with us.

Well, 2020 was my prodigal son moment, it was my return home. In many ways, 2020 was a dumpster fire of a year. So much of what we considered normal was stripped away, and we were left reeling, trying to make sense of and the best of these newfound ‘unprecedented times.’ One thing it taught me though, is that sometimes you need to have everything stripped away to appreciate what you have, and sometimes you need silence to hear the voice of the divine.

One evening in May, I felt this overwhelming conviction that I needed to go to church that coming Sunday. Going to church certainly isn’t an odd thing in and of itself, but at this point, it had been years since I had genuinely attended a church service on a Sunday morning just of my own accord. There also was a special caveat, we were still in the midst of a lockdown brought about by the Coronavirus pandemic. Despite these reasons, and several others, that my brain used to try and deflect the thought, I knew with complete certainty that the excuses were simply just that, excuses.

So I stopped fighting it. I searched up churches that were open in person, because I not only felt that I needed to attend church, but I felt very specifically that I needed to go in-person, and alone. Again, this complicated matters. Very few churches were even open in person. When I searched online though, I saw that Highlands Church, one I had attended way back in the day, was open in person. I knew that that was my Sunday-morning destination.

I had now decided to pull the trigger and go that Sunday to Highlands, but then there was that second stipulation: I needed to go alone. That part piqued my bit of social anxiety and led to many personal pep talks before that fateful Sunday would roll around.

Even in my lukewarm season, though, I knew better than to challenge a directive from God. I bit the bullet, woke up early, and went to church, alone, on a normal Sunday for the first time in a long, long while.

The details of that one service are not necessarily important, but what is is the reality of what had occurred. Like the lost sheep in Luke chapter 15, I had a shepherd who refused to give up searching for me. God did not give up on his wandering sheep, but instead He left the 99, sought out the lost, and rejoiced when He found the wanderer, when He found me.

⁴“What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it? ⁵And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. ⁶And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ ⁷Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.
Luke 15: 4-7

What I think is just so cool is how God orchestrates the story so perfectly that looking back, we can see a clear path of divinity and divine providence over moments that we did not see at the time.

I had one of those moments this past spring. See, not only did that one church service serve as a ‘found moment,’ but it didn’t stop there. I did not just attend and say “okay that was cool God, thanks! Let’s do this again in six months!” Nope. Like a shepherd, He found me, and then He proceeded to guide me to that next step, again and again. He led me from a season of desolate and desert faith to one of the richest that I have ever experienced in present day. The steps were not always easy, though.

We established above that I tend to oftentimes get anxious in various social settings, most notably the ones in which I do not know anybody there. Going to that church service felt like a massive step of faith, but He had bigger and better plans. I began attending regularly, and then I started getting this new conviction: You need to sign up for a small group. I’m sorry, God, what?! I haven’t been in one of those consistently since middle school, and I did not know a single college-aged human at this church. Translation: I would be walking into a group of strangers as ‘The New Kid.’

Queue my internal panic.

I obeyed, though, and I signed up and showed up to the first small group meeting for college students/young adults. The moment I stepped through the door, I felt a sense of peace. The leaders, Caleb and Becca, immediately made me feel like a part of the family, and the other young adults acted like I had been there forever; there was no ounce of that awkward odd-man-out feeling that the circumstances could have, and in all reality, should have, yielded. But at the end of the day, I had listened to God’s direction, and I felt the positive consequence of that obedience. Each week, I would show up and attend small group, and each week, I felt my personal relationship with God be strengthened and nurtured. I had found a home of believers in this group, and in Highlands Church.

This group and the spiritual fellowship that it brought me became such an important part of my life, and I looked forward to Thursday nights and Sunday mornings more than ever. I even missed my senior year sorority formal for ‘chicken nugget Friendsgiving’ night as a small group- that is dedication, right?! Little did I know that that night that seemed so silly in theory would be one filled with deep theological discussion that I still think and ponder on. Again, God is so cool.

Fast forward to the end of the semester, I was asked if I would be interested in helping lead the middle school girls at our church. Me? Someone who is nowhere near a theological expert, had just gotten back to regular church attendance in the last year, and had never done anything of the sort? I wanted to say, “God, are you sure I’m the right girl for this task?”

What I did say: Yes.

Thank God that I did. Helping to lead these precious students has been one of the biggest blessings, and I swear that they do more for me and my own life than I am doing for them by serving them. Each week, it is the absolute highlight getting to talk about the Good Lord with them and help lead them in their own spiritual journey. We even got to go on a winter retreat that was miserable when it came to the weather, but absolutely life-changing spiritually for the kids and us leaders as well. I got to lead a small group of my girls and other precious gals from other churches, and it was the baptism by fire that I needed to dive in as a small group leader.

And a small group leader I have been ever since, co-leading with the most amazing, spirit-filled and spirit-led women and men, and this was all fine and dandy, and then God said, “Let’s take it one step further.”

Each Sunday evening at small group, one of the pastors would typically lead with the message (as both our main pastor and student pastor were middle school boys leaders), and then we split by gender for small group discussion. A couple weeks into the semester, though, I got a text from the student pastor asking if I would lead the message for that coming Sunday.

I love public speaking, but I had never preached or done anything of the sort, so I excitedly, reluctantly, and expectantly accepted. Thankfully for my amateur self, we follow a curriculum for small group messages, so the general message was already written down with the big idea they wanted the kids to grasp, and then whoever presents it chooses how to deliver it, how to relate it to them, what personal story they want to share, and so on and so forth.

I look at the message for my week, and what do you know… It’s about Luke Chapter 15, the lost sheep. The big message is that Jesus notices you. The message was the one kicking off the whole month’s series all focused on the idea of being lost and found.

Are you joking, God? I mean, I just can’t make this stuff up.

In the curriculum, it said to tell a story of a time you felt spiritually lost. Well, I certainly had a story about that. I was nervous, though, to tell this story. I was scared that the girls would think less of me, that I would be looked at as an inadequate leader, or that it just simply wouldn’t resonate with these girls. But despite apprehension, I told the story. God had appointed me to that position for such a time as this, right? Who am I to disregard one of my favorite verses, and the one that this very blog was inspired by?

“Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?”
Esther 4:14

So I shared my story and let God speak through me. It felt liberating. It felt amazing to be able to look these students in the eye and tell them what a good shepherd He is after experiencing that exact relationship with Him for myself so recently. I also found that the girls did not see me as inadequate to lead or spiritually weak for doing so, but instead that I was relatable, that I was honest with them and with myself, and that I had walked a path that perhaps some of them were wrestling with for themselves. The truth of the Christian experience and life is that it is not linear, and we are not failures when one season looks a bit different, a little dimmer than the last. What is important is that we don’t stay in those dim seasons, but we pursue the light, pursue His face, knowing that He will meet us and lead us out of whatever darkness and hard times we’re facing.

I mentioned earlier that I can look back and see God’s hand in all of this, and this is why I say that. July 3, 2017, I wrote a post on here entitled “To Bare a Soul…,” which was all about how I was feeling spiritually lost and was seeking community with fellow believers and intimacy with God. In that post, “To bare a soul…” I referenced the prodigal son in Luke Chapter 15, a story from the same chapter I stood up and taught on to my students just last semester. In that post, I talked about my wrestling with faith, and now I look back and see the result of that wrestling, and it has made my walk with Christ all the much stronger. How amazing is it that we serve a God who does not balk at our questions and challenges, but instead welcomes them?

Flash forward to today, as I write this later, edited version of this post, I am amazed at all he has done with a simple ‘yes.’ A year really can change so much.

So why do I say all this? Why do I tell the world how I spent a good portion of my life not attending church or being a lukewarm Christian? Why do I tell you of my amazing experience with my now church home? Do I do it to hype up Highlands? No, though I do love my church, that is not my main purpose in sharing this. Do I do it to hype myself up and all that I am fortunate to be a part of as a result? Absolutely not!

The main desire of my heart in sharing this is that someone, somewhere is perhaps in my position, maybe one similar or exactly the same, where God is asking something of you: Just take the next step. He is calling on you to step out in faith and obedience and give Him your simplest “yes.” It is scary, it’s hard, but it is worth it! I promise. I’m living proof.

Another reason that I choose to share all this: To let you know that you are not alone. I am a BIG believer in the power of stories and their ability to foster such great connection. When we tell our stories, soon, we realize that some of these harder experiences are not unique to us. We are not alone in these struggles, but they are in fact universal ones that so many others have walked and are working to this day. By sharing our stories, we have a moment of “wait, you too?” and soon enough, we realize how supported and seen we are in these struggles.

One last story that I want to tell about this… Maybe a year and a half/two years ago, I received a Direct Message from a friend from high school. She sent me the sweetest message about how I was inspiring her as a Christian woman. Her words were beautiful, lifting me up and speaking such encouragement over my life, though I must admit that while I was incredibly honored and thankful for the message, I also felt like such a fraud. At that time, I was still living my lukewarm life, but on the outside I was rocking it out. Let me tell you this, perception is a liar (and social media is the biggest perpetrator of those lies). So again, why do I say this? Well, I share this to say, finally, that everything and everyone is not as it seems. That person that you see as a “model Christian,” they might be breaking down behind the scenes, so please, never judge yourself by what the world tells you you should be. You will lose the battle every time striving to meet the standards that others carefully curate for themselves. Hold yourself up next to God’s word, His standards, the truth that you were made in His image and are beautifully and wonderfully made, despite any mistakes you have made or times you have walked away. There lies your identity and your value.

You are not as alone as you think you are, in this place, in this season, in this life. So pretty please, take it from someone who has been there, done that… just come back home. Don’t fight it. If He is calling you, He will equip you.

Just come home.

Uprooted and Planted

Published on August 14, 2019 by Kendall1 Comment

It’s that time of year where all the young humans like myself are heading back to school and moving back in to their college homes. A year ago, I would have expected this to be the only anniversary that I celebrate- my first move in day to college- but instead I have another ummm, exciting(?), event to commemorate: The night that my roommate’s ex-boyfriend shattered our door, window, feelings of safety/security/normalcy, and plans for our college experience. But! This also was the night that wound up making way for some truly spectacular blessings in my life.

The following section was actually something that I wrote shortly after the break in and then subsequently forgot and is, in my humble opinion, the perfect contextualization for what I mean by this…

Happy (almost) fall! It is hands down my favorite season and I am anxiously awaiting sweater weather, the fair, and Cumming painted with the reds and yellows of changing leaves. But while I have been looking forward to this season, I have recently felt as if my life is in the personified version of spring.

For those that do not know, I recently started my first year of college in August and I did not exactly experience the most conventional beginning. Our very first night in our new apartment, my roommates and I experienced a nightmare that could quite easily be considered cinema worthy. In the middle of the night/disgustingly early hours of the morning, one of my roommate’s ex-boyfriend broke into our apartment, shattering our front door and her window, and leading us to be huddled in my closet on the phone with 911 waiting for the police to arrive. A pretty eventful and frightening first night for us four college gals for sure.

After the police left and we were all safe, I stayed with a sorority sister until my parents were able to come to Kennesaw. That next day, I packed my life up for the second time in 72 hours and moved back home. We had just moved in, ready to start this new chapter, and everything was promplty turned upside down.

We were uprooted.

I had been wanting to write a post for weeks now revolving around this idea of being ‘planted’ by God (y’all know I love my metaphors), but could never quite find the words, but that idea has made itself ever so prevalent in these last few weeks and I felt that God illustrated this point so clearly in my life through this crazy and surreal situation.

Okay, so it was definitely not a blessing in the moment, as you can imagine. The whole night still to this day seems more like a movie than an event that I actually experienced, or like a very, very vivid nightmare. Never did I imagine myself meeting with detectives and making trips to police stations between classes during my first week of college, or being unreasonably frightened by loud banging noises and knocking, but here we are.

I am indeed very lucky and blessed to have a wonderful relationship with my family to where I could happily and comfortably move back home and commute, but I still had this nagging of feeling of ‘it shouldn’t be like this.’ It was hard to completely change my entire vision for my life as it currently stood with nothing but a moment’s notice and a trauma’s impact. For my whole life, I imagined my first year of college one way, and not even 24 hours after moving in, that would no longer be the case.

I was abundantly thankful to be spending more time with my family whom I adore and with whom I could feel safe and secure, but all the while I was definitely searching for God’s answer to my “why?”- Why he allowed for us to experience such a terrifying event, why us in particular, and why He uprooted me so soon after being seemingly planted into my new environment.

While I know that we can never be truly sure of why God allows for certain things to happen or what exactly His plans for us fully entail, I have been able to look back and see the good that He has brought out of this sketchy situation.

Some of the positives seem to be very mundane- whether it be extended time with a dear friend that I dearly love and now do not get to see as often, a job that I absolutely adore, or simply more family time- but these “mundane” aspects have led to so much joy and possibility, as well as endless beautiful memories that I otherwise would not have made.

Being a commuter means lots of alone time in my car to listen to music or podcasts, or even to have two hours a day where I can truly be alone with my thoughts (my enneagram 5/introverted self thrives in this setup). When I first started really writing on my own, I would randomly get ideas for pieces and would write them down, but I soon started getting more and more ideas when driving around town. Obviously, I cannot type while driving, so I started making voice memos of what I felt that God was trying to say in and through me. I would just talk out loud (probably looking like a loon to anyone driving past) and say what was on my heart. These voice memos (that I affectionately and very creatively came to label as ‘Car Thoughts’) grew in depth, length, and quality over time. In going back through them, I have found that those memos made during my commutes to and from KSU were exceptionally meaningful and full of personal breakthroughs in regards to what it seems that God was trying to communicate to me. The length of time that I could have to just talk to God and work through my thoughts, and the solitude that I was afforded in my car, created the perfect environment for fruitful and meaningful quiet time.

I have also realized in playing them back that the recordings are perfect reflections of what it’s like inside my head: fast, sporadic, random, and long winded. I have often wondered what I would one day do with them, but for now they are great to pull from when writing and maybe one day they will find new life in another form… but for now, they live within my voice memos!

Another little nugget of wonderfulness that I have found in being a commuter is the expanded possibility for sleepovers with sisters and friends! The morning after the break in, my phone was bombarded with messages from Phi Mu (my sorority) sisters all extending their love, support, and places to sleep, should I ever need one in Kennesaw. In the last year, I have been able to make so many sweet memories by taking them up on these offers and staying the night in Kennesaw. I know that it sounds so simple and silly, but it actually is a lovely little blessing (and showed me right off the bat what sisterhood was).

This all being said, one of the biggest blessings that the break in brought me was a new mindset. I was shocked into a new reality and instantly had to adapt and fully trust that God has a plan for this crazy life of mine. This wasn’t the first time that I have had to surrender in this way, but this time around was different. I was physically threatened, afraid, moved, and pushed so far out of my comfort zone that I would have needed binoculars to see it once more. College in and of itself is a reality check and overwhelming experience, but then you add a little late night 911 call and closet-hiding and you have a real cocktail for craziness, discomfort, and unexpected growth.

I am a planner, as I mentioned in my previous post , and like to have control over my life, but this event took away any illusion of a sense of control that I thought I had. Because I lost control, I had to have complete trust in God and surrender to Him, and He truly delivered beyond my wildest expectations.

This whole experience taught me just how little I know, and that we are where we are for a reason. I was not meant to live in Kennesaw my freshman year, and while I thought that the break in derailed my future, it really set me up for a new location in which I would grow and flourish. Where we find ourselves is not an accident, but is an intentional placement and plating by our Heavenly Father. I have since found so many benefits in the commuter lifestyle that I actually decided to finish out my time at KSU with the same housing arrangement (and I’ve learned all the secrets- keep snacks in your car and ask for gift cards for allll the coffee when it comes to holidays!).

God has also allowed for me to further see the strength that I can have because of His presence in me and my allowing Him to work through me. A night like the one that we endured is surreal, and quite unbelievably scary, but in moving forward from that night I have seen the Lord show up in many ways just in how He has helped me move forward and learn more about myself through that process. Trauma and darkness have their ways of revealing who we truly are, oftentimes for the better, and shows us just how much we need the strength of a Savior to carry on and grow from the experience, not crumble under its influence and pressure.

So yes, this experience scared the living daylights out of me and would make one amazing screenplay (maybe I will write that story one day), but it also opened me up to the possibility of new experiences that came from a life unlike one that I intended for myself- and in a super convoluted way, I can find myself thankful for all the craziest parts of life, includinga break in.

Expectation vs. Reality

Published on August 8, 2019 by Kendall1 Comment

I’ve had a lot of expectations for myself and my life over the years, and time and time again, those expectations fail to be met for exactly what I imagine them to be. For better or for worse, it just so seems that I am really bad at predicting the future! Who would have seen that one coming?

To share a bit of my track record…

When I was in third grade, I knew I wanted to either be a doctor or own a cupcake bakery. Sophomore year of high school, I knew I wanted to be a pediatric oncologist.

I’m now a journalism major with hopes and dreams of going to law school.

Growing up, I loved a good chick flick/rom-com and could not wait for my perfect cutesy high school romance. I remember talking with a friend about how I couldn’t wait for my first relationship, first kiss, and first date.

Flash forward to today (in college)… I am still waiting. And wow, I truly am glad that I waited.

This time last year, I was preparing to live in the cutest little apartment and gathering up decorations and such to make it the perfect home away from home.

A little late night break in turned those plans upside down. Hello, commuter life!

I had plans and hopes to room with a dear best friend of mine at KSU.

She is now my guardian angel up in Heaven.

Junior year of high school, I found a program online that I knew I wanted to be a part of- The United States Senate Youth Program. Two students only from each state. Competitive process. Meet a Supreme Court Justice and the President! It was a total dream come true, there was no way I would earn a spot.

Not only did I earn that spot, but I am actually on the President’s Instagram to this day- two people down from the man himself. ; )

Similar story- Earlier this year, I was encouraged to apply for an international fellowship program- a US-UK Fulbright Commission Summer Institute. Once again, I did not expect to earn a coveted spot in such a prestigious program. Six Americans chosen. Six. I worked hard, and believed that I was capable of earning the spot, but was more than prepared for rejection.

By the grace of God, I just got back from the very best four weeks in Belfast, Northern Ireland, a month of what I can only call some of the absolute best experiences of my life.

Some of these *expectations proven false* brought immense joy, some extreme sorrow, and others a world of confusion and uncertainty- but one thing that they all have in common is that they amounted to a life full of moments and experiences that I never could have dreamed up for myself.

I can tend to be a control freak over my life in many ways, and I have come to fully realize this. I want to have everything figured out and planned. I also can have pessimistic tendencies by expecting the worst, and then being excited and *surprised* when something better happens. I mentally frame it as a way to *protect* myself and anticipate the worst- a way to be ready for it and to minimize any earth shattering effects… Because I totally have that much power, and this totally works, right…?

What I have learned is that not only are these thought patterns counterproductive, they can also be quite dangerous. They fool me into the belief that I have control over the vast uncertainty of life and that the best and worse case scenarios are ones that I can dream of and plan for. It also robs me of the full and unhindered joy of life by my living expectation to expectation.

I set these expectations for life and subsequently limit it to what I can conceivably believe, but my sight is so limited and so small in comparison to life’s vast possibilities. By focusing on the worst or what *I am sure is to happen*, not only am I robbing today of its joy, but I am claiming that I can predict a future that is really and truly at the mercy of and created by the very creator of the universe.

See, when I try to plan and prepare, I am not leaving room for God’s plan for my life and am insisting that I need to have control so that I can handle what is to come. I am also inherently saying that I can think up and plan out the best possible course for my life. Yikes. Maybe not the best way to proceed.

But here’s the thing…We are not meant to handle everything on our own, we were never meant to and will never be strong enough for that. We also were never meant to plan it all out- we were meant to trust in God’s glorious plan for our lives and strive to live for Him. Yes we have free will, and because of that, things here on Earth can definitely get nutty, but no matter where we go or what we do- we are never alone and on our own.

When life is at its darkest, God is our strength, and when it is at its very best, He is our joy. Our lives are not meant to be constrained by earthly expectation, but fully lived at the mercy of and to the greatest extent as set forth and intended by our Father.

I find it ironic that the saying is “expectation VERSUS reality”, like it is some sort of war or conflict. What I have come to realize is that it really is a bit of a battle- for when we set expectations, we constrain the future and its potential to what we imagine and hope for it to be. We eliminate the possibility of more, better, and greater for the sake of comfortable and predictable. We trade out His plan for our life for our own. It is a fight at times, but a worthwhile one, to fight this automatic process of creating and living by expectations.

My challenge is that you revel and thrive in the land of uncertainty, of hope, of trust, and of more. More than you can imagine. More than you can dream. More than you can expect.

Trust that when you let go of control, you have a Heavenly Father who is always fully in control. He is your strength, your comfort, your joy, and the author of your life- and I know that I can say with honesty and great conviction that it’s time that I trust in that completely for myself. Surrender is scary, as is uncertainty, but when you embrace it-

That is when we will truly start living.

God bless y’all!

<3,

p.s. of course I had to sneak a little shameless Northern Ireland throwback in there with the photo; )

From Pain to Purpose- Sorrow to Strength

Published on June 20, 2018August 7, 2019 by KendallLeave a comment

They say a picture is worth 1,000 words- well if that is true, then these two images are worth an entire saga. On the left is a picture taken literally moments before we received the phone call that Sydney had passed away. When we first lost her, I was tempted to delete all pictures of that day to save myself the pain of reliving the moment my heart shattered, but three and a half years later and I am thankful that we saved them- maybe seems a bit crazy, but bear with me.

The second photo was taken a little over a year later, on the same shores of the same lake where the first picture was taken. This picture was taken after family pictures as we wanted to get a few crown pictures before Miss Georgia. I had completely forgotten about the first picture, yet we were drawn to take the one on the right. Going back to the lake at this place was hard, but this spot had always been a treasured one for my family and where we ran our pup, Stoney, so we decided we weren’t going to let it be forever tainted with pain and affiliated with that dreaded day, instead turning a place of sorrow to a place of joy and remembrance.

Fast forward even later and while I don’t have a picture to chronicle the change, the girl in the first and second pictures is so very different from the young woman that I am today. The girl in the first has her back turned and head down, not knowing what was to soon come and the storm she would soon find herself in and fighting- but the girl in the second is looking forward to the future, confident, strong, and fully at peace in the knowledge that God has her no. matter. what. She walked through the storm and came out on the other side stronger than she knew she could be. And now, that same girl does what some might consider strange- she thanks God for the valleys of life, along with the mountains, for she sees the beauty and provision that are brought forth out of the struggles and storms that He asks us to walk through.

It is certainly not in our nature to praise God for pain, because we don’t want to experience it in the first place and want nothing more than for it to end; however, we are so very quick to raise a joyous shout when we receive blessings. Listening to one of my very favorite songs Hills and Valleys by Tauren Wells humbled me and twisted my perspective as to how I view my life, both the struggles and the blessings.

Though life has its dark moments, or valleys, we are never alone and never abandoned- for God is right there with us and working in our hearts and souls in the mountains and valleys alike. One other powerful punch I took from this was that each valley is not meant to last forever, and He will walk along side us the whole way and provide the strength to climb to the mountain’s peak. The valley is not our final destination, but a moment along the path of life, one that we will assuredly conquer and find ourselves above- and once we fight out of that valley, we find ourselves stronger, wiser, and kinder people because of it. We never shake off the dirt from the valley, or the lessons learned, but we are no longer situated in the thick of it, and we can then look back and reminisce on and reevaluate the change, growth, and strength that came as a result of the journey and fight. No, the valley was not desirable, or fun, or comfortable- but it was necessary to fight our way to the top of the mountain, develop the strength we would need to get there, and to be able to appreciate the peak when we reach it.

An example of this transformation of perspective as it has played out in my own life…

Many know the story and importance of the song I Can Only Imagine by MercyMe in regards to how it relates to Sydney- but if you don’t know specifics, to sum it up, it is the last song Sydney danced to when she won Miss Apple Capital’s Outstanding Teen, about a month before she passed away. None of us knew why she chose that song, but it is about how amazing it will be when we go to Heaven and meet God face to face- woah talk about God moving, because about a month later, she would be in that very position (To see a picture of Syd during this dance, visit my Go Gold for the Cure page). The first three notes of the song are very distinct, and it is a very popular worship song, so it is not uncommon to hear it played on Christian radios. Whenever I hear those first three notes, I am immediately reminded of Syd and for a while, and sometimes even now, they would trigger tears and sorrow. The song that encapsulated such joy at times would reawaken my pain and heartbreak all over again. Over time, however, my heart began to heal and not only could I hear the song without tears, but I was back to feeling a rush of joy at its words and meaning. Don’t get me wrong, there are still times when I hear it and feel those same feelings of grief, but it does not quash my worship and joy in the true meaning behind those beautiful words. I now find myself, three and a half years later, going to that very song, that had once prompted sorrow, for strength. I listen to be reminded of a girl who was strong until the very end, I listen to be reminded of my own strength, but above all I listen to be reminded of a God from whom all strength stems, and who has the strength and power to conquer death itself.

For reference… Here are some of the lyrics from I Can Only Imagine ❤

Surrounded by You glory
What will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus
Or in awe of You be still
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah
Will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

He turned my sorrow to strength, gave me purpose amidst my pain, and brought me through and out of the valley to stand upon the mountain.

And while no, I am not thanking God for putting me through the pain or heartbreak, I am thanking and praising Him for His strength and guidance while I experienced it, and for using it to mold me into the woman that He desires me to be. I wish nothing more than for Syd to come back, for I miss her more and more with each passing day- but as the years go by, I am learning to trust more and more and find peace in God’s crazy yet so divine plans for each of us- and even in my moments of deepest pain, I remember where she now is and I can rejoice in that. Will we ever understand God’s ways and plans for us? Absolutely not. But we can always know that He is working all things together for our good- and that is worthy of a hallelujah!

Because of His divine ability to turn sorrow to strength and pain into purpose, I can truly look Heavenward and say “Lord, thank you for the deep valleys, along with the highest mountain peaks.”

So yes, that first picture is a reminder of a truly dark valley, but it is also a reminder that I survived what I thought could break me, because of His strength through me, and that no matter what I face, He is right there beside me. I never have to walk away, scared and unsure of myself- for in every. single. circumstance He is right there through it all.

“I’m thankful for my struggle, for without it I wouldn’t have stumbled upon my strength”

-Alex Elle

As always, feel free to contact me with the form below- what valley are you currently in? Have you had an exciting recent breakthrough? Did any specific part of this speak to you? I would love to pray for you or celebrate with you, so never hesitate!

Love y’all and God bless!

<3,

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Even so Come, Let Thy Will be Done

Published on March 15, 2018August 7, 2019 by KendallLeave a comment

The other morning I did something I am not exactly super proud of… I was running a bit late to school (as usual), but not so much that I would be parking in the gravel, and I let a car out in front of me when I was stopped for a light. Said light is the cause of nearly all of the awful traffic on my morning commute, so I just needed to pass it in order to make school on time and get a parking spot. As I sat there waiting, after letting him go, I found myself thinking “I hope I don’t miss the light because I let him out- with my luck, he’ll be the last one through and I’ll be waiting another three minutes.” Yeah.. not exactly my finest or most selfless moment. I initially did not realize the meaning of what I was thinking, but as the day went on, that thought was nagging at me and I realized that while waiting at that light, I was treating what would have been the tiniest sacrifice- three minutes to be exact- with the weight of something more than what it was worth.

This revelation was humbling, as I like to consider myself a typically considerate and selfless person, but in a small and quiet moment, selfishness and inability to fully relinquish control won out.

Like most Christians, I ask God to use me for His purpose and kingdom, but I don’t always acknowledge what this really means. In order to be used by God, I must fully let go of my attempts to control the many aspects of my life and let His will for my life become my purpose and path- but how can I expect to be used fully and greatly for His kingdom when I can’t even give up three minutes for another without reservation?

“Thy will be done” and “even so come” are prayers I find myself saying, but I, like many other, fail to realize what these words really mean. These prayers are asking for God’s will to be done fully in us, regardless of the cost it brings with it. We want to think we have surrendered our lives over totally, but there are still aspects of life we still grip onto far too tightly. I find myself not fully surrendered and unwilling to face what truly comes.

Yes Lord, use me- but not like that.

Lord let me be a witness- but I don’t want to break up with Him.

Father, I am Yours, work through me- but I need this job too much to lose it.

Use me, but not like that. Beneath my desire to be a vehicle for His word, I found my hesitance to complete surrender and tight grip over control in my life- because the unknown is hard, feeling “powerless” is hard, and trusting God with every last aspect of life, including and especially the hardest parts, is so. very. hard.

I ask God to use me, but I am oftentimes latched onto insignificant matters, like three minutes. I hesitate to make the tiniest of sacrifice for a fellow man, but yet the one I strive to be like sacrificed His very life for all of man.

The first lesson I took from these revelations is that in order to be fully used by God, I need to be willing to make ‘sacrifices’ as Jesus asks us to- as seemingly small as a three minute delay, or going far out of your way to be there for one in need. When I am able to give up something desirable for something less so as a result of God’s calling, I can fully embrace a Christlike heart and allow God to fully work in me.

“Don’t cross oceans for those who wouldn’t cross a puddle for you.”

Someone said in response, “No, do it. Do cross oceans for people. Love people, all people. No conditions attached, no wondering whether or not they’re worthy. Cross oceans, climb mountains. Life and love isn’t about what you gain, it’s what you give.”
(Anonymous)

I want to face service to others and sacrificing even the smallest of things as a privilege, an opportunity to serve others like with a selfless heart, running toward the image of my Creator, and witnessing to others what it truly means to be a follower of Christ. It is not about me, but what God will and can do through me. Use my life Lord and eliminate my reservations.

This moment in my morning commute also worked to illuminate another realization within me and it is that fear and doubt manifest themselves in the form of control. My inability to fully surrender all aspects of life are attributed to my doubt of what is to come, of what I could lose, and of the reality of a life fully laid down at the Savior’s feet- even so come. It is here that the verse “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10) becomes so real to me, as it is a testament to quieting our impulses and urges to take control, and to be at peace and joyful in the fact that He is God almighty and we must only ‘be still’ and follow His guidance.

“Surrender is deeply misunderstood as an act of weakness. Surrender is the bravest and most lucid thing a man ever does, and that’s why it’s so precious to [God].”

(Andrew Harvey)

Surrender is scary, giving up something one loves or desires is upsetting, but God is so good and in His goodness, he can use these frustrations and hard times as a vehicle to your greatest calling. It’s not at all to say that He won’t or can’t use you until then, as there is a well know quote that says “God doesn’t call the qualified. He qualifies the called” (Excerpt from Undaunted by Christine Caine). In this way, it furthers the idea that God can use you no matter what- reservations and all; however, my prayer and goal for myself is that I do not sit by and remain idle while waiting for the call, but that I am continuously striving to be like Christ and running headfirst towards His divine pathway. We all have our obstacles blocking us from a full life in the spirit, what is it for you?

For me, it is relinquishing control of all aspects of life I still claim ownership of and maintain a firm grip on. It is fully trusting that no.matter. what life throws my way, it is nothing I cannot handle with the spirit of the Lord working and living within me. It is embodying the selfless spirit of a Christian and giving of myself to my fellow man, despite the inconvenience or discomfort that it may cause. It is accepting and embracing the divine mystery of our Creator, and the expulsion of any and all doubt caused by the presence of earthly thoughts and influence on the basis of “logic” or “impossibility”, wherein the world questions and subsequently silences what it cannot fully understand.

It is praying to God, with complete surrender to the full reality of my words:

“Even so come, Lord, let Thy will be done.”

“To think you can love God without being changed by Him, is to think you can jump into the ocean and not get wet. To really love Him, you must understand that your life is going to be wrecked by Him, and built again into something beautiful, something lasting.”

(T.B. LaBerge)

It is not easy, it is not comfortable, it is not painless…

But neither was dying on the cross so that I could have that very relationship. Thank. You. Jesus.

“If Jesus said ‘Drop everything and follow me.’ Would you do it?” (Anonymous).

Love y’all and God bless!

<3,

Not a Cottage, but a Castle

Published on February 21, 2018August 7, 2019 by KendallLeave a comment

Are you familiar with the phrase “Want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans”? Because while I have heard it several times, the good Lord decided it was time I experienced it firsthand. God has many methods of redirection/reevaluations, or setting us back on track to HIS glorious plan for our life, and I am back to using metaphors to illustrate what he illuminated for me.

There are 3 types of “re-directions” or signals we reach and they each serve a different purpose in life, but each is necessary.

The first way the Lord gets us back on track is by giving us a speed-bump, a small momentary set back that causes us to slow down, take a look around, and breathe. Speed-bumps don’t cause panic, and they don’t cause us to come to a stop, but they do give us a chance to take a pause and let it remind us to not fly through life- I mean the road. Speed bumps can come from something as simple as a loved one pointing out an unsavory behavior or path in the eyes of the Lord, and provides the necessary wake up to said behavior and path and allows for us to proceed with greater insight and a fuller and more Godly perception.

The second way I have found that the Lord puts us back on track is through stop signs, moments where we come to a halt in whatever it is we are focused on and take a look around. Perhaps we were so focused on OUR vision for our lives and needed the gentle reminder that we are at God’s mercy. These moments of pause give us broadened perspective to see what else is coming, fully evaluate if it is God’s will we are pursuing or our own, and allow for us to resume our ride through life with a refreshed perspective and focus.

The third way God redirects us to His divine plan is through a complete change in direction via a roadblock- those events or people that we can’t get past or that alter the course of our life entirely. These roadblocks redirect us onto a different path, and while the scariest and most dramatic of all signals- these re-directions can lead to the most fruitful aspects and opportunities of life. Going down a foreign and new path can be terrifying, but it is the wonder and novelty of these new roads that aids us in focusing on God, as we are totally dependent on His guidance for navigation and at His complete mercy.

It is so easy to get wrapped up in our “perfect” and ideal plans for our own lives and forget to place them at the feet and mercy of the one who gave them to us in the first place. Day in and day out, I tend to think up the “perfect” scenarios- whether it be in regards to my future job, the guy I like asking me out, or even something as seemingly mundane as acing that next test. In my mind, that is what would be my best and ideal life- but God. What He has in mind for us infinitely trumps what we plan for ourselves, and it is His plan that can claim true perfection. While a diversion away from our own set plans can seem catastrophic or worrisome, it in all reality is a chance for God to set you back on the path to His ideal plan. Whether it be through a speed bump, stop sign, or road block, He is using these moments of reevaluation and redirection to lead us all to HIS divine plan and purpose for our lives so that we can truly live them to the fullest extent possible. To quote the great Rascal Flatts, “Life is a highway” and with God as our navigator, and His plan our road, it will be the most wonderful ride imaginable.

This metaphor from C.S. Lewis paints it beautifully in his book Mere Christianity,

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

-C.S. Lewis

Love y’all and God bless!

<3,

I Need Your Help!

Published on January 23, 2018August 7, 2019 by Kendall2 Comments

Hey you!

If you’ve been following me for a bit or know me at all, you know that I’m passionate about raising awareness for childhood cancer after losing my best friend to the disease three years ago (see my “Go Gold for the Cure” page). Last year, my district Senator, Michael Williams, and I worked to create and propose legislation declaring September 1st “Childhood Cancer Awareness Day” in the state of Georgia. While it was heard by the Senate Rules Committee and I had the opportunity to testify on its behalf- sharing its great relevance and importance, it was not put onto the Senate calendar and was therefore killed- but this year we are determined to get it passed!

Here is where you come in…

All you need is an email and 2 minutes to copy and paste. We are emailing the Rules Committee members to convince them to prioritize our resolution and put it on the calendar, and we need all the help we can get! It’s time to make some noise and show them how important this cause is.

If you would be willing to help and take the 2 seconds to make a difference, please message me using this contact form or leave a comment below with your email and I will send you everything you need shortly.

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Thank you so so much for your help in raising awareness and helping these golden-hearted warriors get the funding and support that they deserve!

Remember to #GoGold, fight for #MoreThan4, and forever and always be #SydneyStrong!!

<3,

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