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here’s to hoping.

Hoping, like expectation.
Not hopping, like a bunny.

Just want to make sure we’re clear on that.

As shocking as it may seem, 2020 has begun. I don’t know about you, but I definitely didn’t see it coming. This sucker snuck up on me.

And like I’ve done for the past few years, I thought I’d write a recap of my 2019 word of the year. I know you all have been waiting for the last 24 hours for this one.

A year ago, I declared 2019 the year of hope. Romans 5:5 says, “and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

A year ago, I already held a lot of hope for what was to come. I was expecting great things in and around me. I could feel deep in my bones that it was going to be a turning point kind of year, and that I would fully experience the first part of that verse: that my hope would not put me to shame.

In a lot of ways, it didn’t. Babies were born, I went to NYC (by myself, might I brag…), turned 30 and was surprised by the bestest humans on the planet, relationships grew deeper than I could have imagined, and a lot of darkness was brought to light. The love of God was truly poured into my heart, through Holy Spirit and His people.

But in a lot of other ways, 2019 can kick rocks. Brokenness never seemed to take a break, for myself and those I hold dear. In ways that feel both trivial and gigantic at the same time. It was just…well…not hopeful. The tunnel got darker and the light at the end grew dim.

It was the opposite kind of turning point than I had originally thought.

The thing I know to be true in my head: God is kind. God is faithful. God is for His people.
The thing my heart still loses its grip on: hope.

Hope that God is those things.
Hope that I will see His goodness on display in me and for me.
Hope that all that is sad is coming untrue.

And yet…
He is.
I will.
They are.

And that’s exactly why 2020 will, again, be the year of hope. The year that I ask the Lord for restored and renewed hope. The kind of hope I didn’t know I needed a year ago.

At the end of it all, my hope will not put me to shame because it is in the One who defeated shame. The One who chased after the naked man and woman after rebellion and covered them – covered their shame – so that they would feel some sort of safety with themselves and one another. The One who ultimately brought hope to those of us that feel lost and hopeless through Jesus.

See ya never, 2019. But 2020, I’m expecting more from you.

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proudly humble

Sometimes the hardest part of writing is figuring out what to title the blog post. Is this one click-bait worthy? Or just a horrible attempt at wordplay?

Either way, here we are.

I’ve been slowly making my way through the Gospel of John over the last couple of months. A couple weeks ago, I re-read John’s account of Jesus washing the disciples feet in chapter 13.

If you grew up in the church, or have been around for a hot minute, then you have undoubtedly heard this story. Jesus shows us what true humility looks like by washing the feet of his disciples.

Yadayadayada. Heard it a thousand times. Cool, thanks John. Moving on.

Except this time **cue the Word of God being living and active…** I didn’t read the same story I have read/heard hundreds of times. This time, I saw Peter.

Peter asks, in what I assume is a confused and rhetorical tone, “Lord, do you wash my feet?!” Then I continue his sentence in my mind, “Ah, heck no!” And after Jesus gives an answer that I can only imagine Peter doesn’t hear/listen to, he replies, “You shall never…

When I read that, it hit me – this seems to be Peter’s attempt at humility. He cannot imagine the man he has been living with and watching work miracles for so long bending down to wash his feet. How could this man – the man that Peter declared as Messiah, the One that had the words of eternal life (John 6:68) – how could he ever wash Peter’s feet?

It’s as if Peter, in the most backwards way possible, was trying to protect Jesus from the humiliation of wiping the bottom of his gross feet. Again – Peter’s false humility.

Peter had no idea what he was denying himself by not wanting Jesus to wash his feet. Peter was fighting against the opportunity to allow the Savior of the entire world – past, present, and future – to literally wash over him with water AND the Word. Because, honestly, he was probably too proud.

Sometimes the stance of humility is not not receiving something, or putting yourself down, but rather allowing others to serve you and lift you up because you are incapable of knowing/doing/being everything.

We try to put off this air that we are here to help everyone but that we never need help. We’re the servants, never to be served. But the truth is, we do need to be served.

We need people to tell us the truth.
We need people to remind us of who we are.
We need people to pick us up when we are down.
We need people to wash our feet.

May we never be too proud to say, “You will never wash my feet.”
May we, instead, be people that say, “Thank you for seeing that my feet are dirty and for offering to help.”

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wait.

Here we go with Kayla’s Word of the Year recap for 2018. I know that my faithful 11 followers (appreciate y’all) have been anticipating this blog drop. Which is quite fitting since it’s about my year of waiting. I’ve just been making you suckers wait, joining in the sometimes agonizing in-between of one thing and another.

That sentence made no sense, but that’s how I live my life.

I’ve never really been one for resolutions. I can remember as a 3rd grader being asked what our New Year’s resolutions were in class and I just shrugged my shoulders when the question got around to me. There’s probably something in that about my inability to be decisive…

But, for the past…well…I don’t know exactly how long, but a while…I have prayed about and landed upon a word of the year.

2018’s word: Wait.

When asked about my word, I found myself hesitating to reveal it, and very quick to defend it once I told.

I feared that people would think I chose wait as my word because I’m the single girl and that’s what single girls do. We wait. For a husband.

But that wasn’t it at all. If anything, I desired the year of waiting to be about everything BUT that. I felt like God was laying it upon my heart to learn what it means to actively wait for Him.

The image above was the lock screen on my phone for the entire year. For 365.25 days, I would raise my phone to see that word and that verse. I was constantly reminded that the Lord is good to those that wait for Him. And (this is of particular importance, I believe), the soul that seeks Him.

I felt an urge from Holy Spirit to sit in anticipation of waiting for God to move. To truly seek Him with my whole soul – my entire self. To wait for His revelation in my life. And ultimately, to wait with expectant hope for Him to return and set all things right.


One thing I think I’m pretty good at is surrounding myself with wise, loving friends. Over a year ago – before the year of wait began – I was sitting with one of those friends, talking about this very idea. About the uncomfortability that exists in the waiting.

“But here’s the thing,” she says as the wisdom starts to seep out, “there are consequences to not waiting. Can you imagine what would’ve happened had the disciples not waited like Jesus told them to? They would’ve missed the Holy Spirit. There are consequences!”

And that sealed it for me. I had to learn how to wait because there would be consequences if I didn’t.


2018 was a weird & difficult one. I was asked to wait in a lot of different areas of life. For reconciliation. For healing. For new life – physically and spiritually. For revelation. For next steps to take. Clarity was given in some areas, and more questions were given in others. But in all, God remained who He always has been: loving and faithful to His people.

Just because the year is over and I’m on to a new word doesn’t mean I’ve gotten this active waiting down. In fact, I’ve seen a pattern over the last few years of my words building off of one another. I believe that in His great mercy, God has simply laid the groundwork for what He’s going to teach me this year.

And truly, I can’t wait.

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share service 2018

Every year, the Sunday after Thanksgiving, my church hosts what we call our Share Service. Instead of having a service at 9am & 11am, we all come together to worship at 10am and have the opportunity to get up in front of one another and share how God has moved in our lives, and how Refuge has been a part of that movement. It’s like the church version of Open Mic. ‘Cept the comedy comes from the kids that say the most honest, raw things and there’s no cover charge for getting in or 2 drink minimum. Although we do have coffee and drinking it is encouraged.

I digress. 

This year’s Share Service may have been my most favorite one yet. 

I’ve been attending my church for 8 years and – to my recollection – I have yet to sit through more vulnerability from so many different people. I witnessed people share laughter, tears, heartbreak, and praise – all pointing to the Faithful One who carries and sustains us all. 

After church, I went to lunch with some friends and said to them, “I feel like for so long, so many people have been longing for community in our church. They want it but haven’t been able to figure out where to start – or maybe not even sure if anyone else around the church wants it as much as they do. This morning, so many people shared that they not only want community, but have found it.”

My heart grew so many sizes as one person after another walked to the front – shaky voices, sweaty palms and all – sharing that they experienced God showing up for them through the lives of the people around them. I mean, could you ask for anything more?! 

Maybe my most favorite thing said, that brought me to tears in an instant, was one person’s heartfelt closing: “Thank you for letting us be known here.”

I mean. Come. On.

That is one of the many reasons why I love my church.

I didn’t have the brain space to get up and share in front of my church. Also because sometimes when I have a microphone I can get a little too…shall we say…expository…

But if I had gotten up to share, here’s what I would’ve said:
• I am grateful that God has chosen to name me His Beloved through His Son, Jesus.
• I am grateful that God has placed me in the church He has, to see His people bear His name and pursue Jesus in such a way that the darkness has no place among us.
• I am grateful for a church that listens to the voice of women, allows women to lead, has men that stand in front of women to protect them yet also stand behind women to push them toward who Jesus has made them to be. 
• I am grateful for friends – both in and out of my church – that call me to grace and mercy and are not willing to let me push Jesus away, but rather push me closer to Him.
• I am grateful that God has given me deep, rich, life-giving relationships that fill the desires of my heart in the most unique ways – ways I would have never imagined, yet are perfect for who I am and where I am in my life right now.
• I am grateful for a faithful God that never gives up on an often faithless Bride.
• I am also grateful for friends that don’t let me continue living life in the dark by giving me their favorite books to read and forcing me to watch their favorite movies. Most of which I am rightfully ashamed of myself for never having read/seen to begin with.

I could go on and on, but this feels like it hits the high notes. 

The whole point is – I have much to share and much to be grateful for. At the tail end of a predominately difficult year, it was so good for my heart to hear the stories of people I’m in a church family with, and in turn be reminded of my God who is, and has been, so kind and faithful to me. 


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take & eat

take & eat.png

I’m not sure if I’m focused on this concept because I’m hungry or what, but here we go.

I often forget that the enemy never has the upper hand.

I’m in the middle of a season of crap. Just grey, dreary crap. And it’s not just me, but those I love are in the middle of crap too. It has, simply put, been a really weary season in a lot of different ways.

I have seen up close & personal that the enemy comes only to steal and kill and destroy. And – especially in isolation –  I forget the rest of the story. That Jesus came to give life and give it abundantly.

I love the way Jesus sets it up in John 10:10 – “the enemy does that, I do this.”

Jesus steps in and flips the script on what satan is trying to accomplish.

Which brings me to: “take & eat.”

In Genesis 3, we read about the serpent tempting Eve. He taunts her with, “Did God actually say…” – manipulating God’s truth and planting doubt in Eve’s mind. And she falls for it. The enemy essentially says, “Take and eat. You’ll be fine! God just doesn’t want you to eat this fruit because you’ll be like Him. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to be your own god?”

So, she takes & eats.
And so does Adam.

And in comes brokenness and disobedience and shame and separation from the Holy One who created them.

The enemy does that.

Then Jesus does this:

And when the hour came, he [Jesus] reclined at the table, and the apostles with him. And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”
And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”
And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.”

Luke 22:14-20

Jesus’ invitation to His disciples: take & eat.

He redeemed that which the enemy marred.
He took the invitation that ushered in death and remade it into an invitation that brings life.
He made the meal and the invitation new.

And guess what?

He’s going to do it again.

When Christ returns – just as He said He would – and sets all things right, we’re going to have another meal together.

I imagine being at the marriage supper of the Lamb, Jesus standing at the head of the table with a glass raised high, arms outstretched and declaring to all in attendance, “Take & eat.”

It makes me weepy thinking about how God is actively making all that the enemy has broken new and whole once again. How even in the middle of what feels like death, satan still doesn’t have the upper hand.

All of the crap, all of the weariness, is being pierced with light and given fresh life. The season is being restored, whether I can see it happening in the here & now or not.

It is.
Jesus is still in the business of giving life and giving it abundantly.
He is still flipping the script on the lies the serpent tries to tell His people.

The bread might be dry, and the wine a little bitter, but the invitation to take & eat is enough hope to hold on to for today.

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