Pictured below is my “non-crafty” craft. I believe that making anything qualifies as a craft. So I drank a bottle of peach soda, rinsed it out, cut off the stem of a fake flower, and BEHOLD! A CRAFT! 

Apparently, “other” people don’t think this qualifies as a craft ;-). I sent a picture to my sister and she thought I’d handcrafted each petal. Whoops. Sorely tempted to take credit for something Michael’s craft store provided for  me.

My definition of a craft project is anything that can be accomplished in less than 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, it becomes a chore. This short-term mentality does not set me on the path to become a Picasso, Michelangelo,  or any one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles.

A girl can dream, right?

Fact is, I just want to create things. Even if I can’t take all the credit for it. I just want to put my voice out into the void and tell the darkness it doesn’t win. Not this time.

I woke up underground
Not a light, not a sound
I threw my voice into the dark
But the dark had no remark,
Just repeated what I said

-Cody Fry, “Underground”

Do you ever come to find peace surrounding a decision or state of heartbreak, only to have someone bring it up again…and you think: “I was ok with this, why did you have to bring this up?” You sat in the shade of the willow tree, and felt the sweet spring breeze across your face and felt the restless disappear…only to find your peace was untested. It was undisturbed. True peace must be renewed constantly. Real rest gets challenged. You have to make it through winter and know spring is coming. 

Somehow, year after year I’m captivated by Spring. It’s funny how quickly we forget that that plants bloom and that the same boring old trees we’ve been staring at all winter long really can be a vibrant green all over again. Deep down I think there’s an Anne of Green Gables inside all of us that looks at the world with wonder and fancies themselves a poet. Or at the very least, we all can appreciate a little sunshine. What’s not to love about a little whimsy in nature?

I call this the Season of Freedom. Why? Because Easter Sunday is about Jesus coming to free us. To free us from the cave of echoing darkness and unseen chains. I’m finding freedom from the oppression of wanting to be seen and heard by everyone but Jesus. I want my life to play out on a grander stage. I want a larger role with the spotlight directly on me. When in reality, that would not give me freedom. Just different bosses calling the shots.

What do you need freedom from?

Freedom from being in a constant state of waiting for things to go “back to normal.” Anger and bitterness at a broken world. Being paralyzed between anxiety and depression. Caught in addictions that started out as exceptions to the norm.

I’m not a teacher right now, but there’s still a part of me that still wants to give people assignments to complete, so bear with me. How about you go for a walk. Whether it’s brilliantly sunny or slightly drizzly and think about these things. Maybe bring a friend if you’d like. That’s your homework. There’s no grades given or even a destination but I hope the Lord meets you there.

 

Real peace gets tested. True freedom often means a battle.

-Katrina

 

 

 

Where do you find yourself today? Is your sink full of dirty dishes. Is your soul full of restlessness. Do you long for a vacation, a weekend getaway, or just a quiet morning?

Do you find yourself wrestling with the large and the insurmountable?

^1-2 God, the one and only—
    I’ll wait as long as he says.
Everything I need comes from him,
    so why not?
He’s solid rock under my feet,
    breathing room for my soul…

This weekend I found myself at  Women’s Retreat for my church. During the afternoon several of us went for a walk in the manicured gardens at the retreat center. It was a beautiful combination of ponds, little bridges, daffodils, and winding paths leading out to an abandoned railroad trellis and a nature hike. It was a lovely walk and what made it significant was when one of the ladies in my group said “This is what heaven will be like” because as we circled the trails we ran into intergenerational women walking in pairs of two or threes. We could wave and smile and connect in the simple gesture of “I love Jesus, you do too! hello!” instead of the normal routine of trying to align schedules and not knowing how to approach each other, or feeling the pressure of “Not being a good friend” what if we simply strolled through a garden and rested in the simple love of Christ that is foundational to us all. Yet I know this isn’t going to happen right now. Or tomorrow. But someday, someday.

I’ll wait as long as he says. Because he’s the only solid thing under my feet.

Sometimes I’m really tired of waiting. I’m tired of breaking down into tears at inconvenient times. I’m thankful for the graciousness of a lady in my small group at camp who sat with me and offered rational statements amidst the seemingly random storm of emotions. She reminded me that grief causes our linear paths to scatter. How many of you are facing events that cause your linear path of life to twist? Forcing you to bend and change in ways you never wanted to.

Where do you find rest?

Coffee. A comfy bed. Cozy scarves. A sunny vacation spot where you feel like you can conquer whatever life throws at you.

At the retreat we explored this thought: What happens afterwards? Do these things really satisfy your soul? WHY do we never truly find the rest we long for?

Because we can never truly find rest here on this earth. Jessica, our speaker, encouraged us to find freedom in that thought. We don’t need to beat ourselves up when all of the scheduling, bubble baths, and calligraphing Bible verses still leave us with an ache in our hearts for reconciliation.

How can God offer “breathing room” for the soul? How often do we leave our souls parched and forgotten?

This weekend I was able to help with worship by playing the piano. I have not played on a worship team for three years. My fingers were rusty and clumsy and my eyes not attuned to measures and chords. But my soul was on familiar ground. Music can transcend our own thoughts and emotions and that can help place a salve on my thirsty soul. I was enraptured by the hum of the piano strings long after a note is played as I held my foot on the pedal. So often the events of our life echo out into the future. Just as a rock thrown into the middle of a pond causes ripples, and a note hums beyond the instrumentalist’s movement.

As I sat at the piano bench a flock of geese gracefully landed on the surface of the pond. A stream of water shot up to surround the tips of their wings. And I thought, what if we approached our own souls with the same amount of grace? What if we softly landed in truth that we are loved and created by God apart from anything else we do.

What if we let our souls breathe. Instead of yelling at them to be quiet.

 

 

Katrina

 

 

 

 

Please tell me that you find yourself in the sunshine on this leap day. I hope your coffee was delicious and that you didn’t lock your keys in your car or spill chili across your kitchen. Yesterday was so stormy that it tried to blow my little car off the freeway and made one of my favorite brunch places extremely drafty. The sunlight streaming in my living room is a welcome change.

What things in your life are like the morning sunlight pouring in the windows after a hellish storm?

 

 

Is it a passionate speaker reminding you of God’s promises?

Hazelnut latte when you normally order vanilla?

Sitting on a bench at Boulevard Park when a single bird flies by?

I’ve let go of a lot this past year. But letting go requires opening your hands and extending them, ready and waiting for the next thing. You don’t just say goodbye to whatever you were grasping at, you also have to acknowledge the greeting of something new.

Yesterday at church someone asked “What do you do?”

What do I do? I work at a cake shop. I’m married. I cook when I occasionally feel inspired. I paint. I love Jesus

But for several seconds, all I could think was “I’m Katrina. My identity isn’t in what I do or accomplish.”(Which my husband reminds me of frequently). Granted, questions about work and hobbies are great ways to get to know someone but as far as sculpting your own personal identity they aren’t much help because they fluctuate and change.

Build your life on something solid and firm so that when the storm comes, the waves might take away your house, your dog, and your dreams but the foundation stands. You have something left to rebuild upon. When the last year stripped away my expectations…I was left with a lot of questions. Where will I live? What do I do without my Mom? What does it mean to be wife? Who can I trust and lean on? But a few things stayed constant, and they served as an anchor when each wave hit. You might be holding on for dear life, but when things subside you can collect the scraps and start again.

 

 

Cheers!

 

(For the days you feel British).

 

-Katrina