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Oct 11 2023
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back to my roots

This January will mark 10 years of writing random thoughts and opinions on this here blog of mine. My first post, ringing in the new year of 2014, introduced my desire to have a discussion on singleness in the church. I survived purity culture and was ready to thrive. And I think I have…thriven? Irregardless…

Over time the blog and my writing morphed. There was a shift where I wanted to talk about more than singleness. I wanted to talk about life as a follower of Jesus. I was – and still am – single*, but I came to a point where I realized I had more to offer than just my take on a relationship status. I’m not “just” the single girl – I’m Kayla. And so I started to write as Kayla. Not single Kayla.

Yet here we are, nearly 10 years later, and I’m back to a blog post about singleness.

In other news – I like TikTok. I know I probably shouldn’t watch it, but we don’t like to should all over ourselves. LET ME LIVE MY LIFE.

Early today I came across a stitch (iykyk) responding to remarks that a very famous pastor made about women being “perpetually lied to” about the “inconvenience of a husband and children.” He (if you really want to know which man said this, you can figure it out on your own. I’m not typing his name here) talks about young women being so pumped about their lives and the freedom they have now. He goes on to say, “if they do a follow up at 50 they’re not going to be happy…they’re going to be lonely…have a couple of STDs.” He postulates that the true key to happiness is a husband and children.

A. Pastor.
A pastor who is supposed to be telling people about the good news of Jesus Christ – that we are so loved by God that He was unwilling to see us without hope and sent His Son Jesus to redeem us back in to right relationship with Him.
A pastor who is supposed to be reminding his church – and the world since he puts his words all over Al Gore’s internet – that abundant life comes through Christ and nothing else.

Instead, this pastor is reminding women that they will live a miserable life and die a miserable death unless they get married.

I wonder if he realized that Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ Himself, was a single man? That MANY mothers of the faith were/are single women? And, shockingly, lived/are living full, vibrant, lovely lives for the sake of the Kingdom of God?

10 years.
For 10 years I’ve been waiting for the narrative to change.

So tonight, it’s back to my roots.
My single roots.

One of the things that fires me up about these words is that it lumps in singleness with loneliness and marriage with fulfillment. I am single and I have a thriving community of friends that help keep me from debilitating loneliness. I also know married people that are not thriving with their spouse and face greater loneliness that I’d like to imagine.

The assumption that singleness = a life of loneliness is such a freakin narrow approach to life. It totally goes against the full life of a follower of Jesus. A life that is designed to rely on God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, and His church. It also takes so much pressure off of married people, relieving them of the opportunity to fold single people in to their lives.

“You’re lonely? Oh, well just get married.” – this is such a terrible cop out.

Not to mention, it leaves a lot of women at risk.

There have been 2 times in my life I was convinced I would get married. One of those times I was with an abusive addict and only through friendship was I able to get out of that relationship and not end up “unlonely” to a man that put me through hell. My follow up at 50 would actually have been that I was unhappy.

And that’s just one relationship. I can’t begin to describe the audacity of men on dating apps – Christian dating apps – that make me want to just move into my friend’s basement and live out my days as mom’s weird friend that just showed up one day and won’t go away. Nothing makes me want to be single as much as dating does.

My loneliness doesn’t push me toward marriage.
It pushes me toward Jesus.
It pushes me toward community.
It pushes me toward my friend and her son showing up to my apartment with flowers because I’ve had a terrible month.
It pushes me toward snuggling with my friends daughter before putting her down for a nap as we say our I love you’s and I remind her that she’s a queen.
It pushes me toward a 40 minute FaceTime with my nephew while I make and eat breakfast and he talks to me about his guitar and wanting to learn how to play Jon Pardi songs.

It pushes me away from despair.
It pushes me away from desperation.
It pushes me away from the lie that a husband and children are an inconvenience, but are rather a good gift to be cherished and celebrated, but not envied or idolized.
It pushes me away from the lie that Christ is inadequate.

What if we started treating people as people – married, single, parents, non-parents, etc. etc.
What if we started believing that Christ in me is the hope of glory – not any other identity or label I place behind my name.

What if Jesus is actually enough?

And that’s really it, right? That’s where this all started. A conversation around the question, “What if Jesus is actually enough?”

But the question today hits me differently. Instead of a question out of despair – a clinging the possibility that He could be – it’s a question of hope, of opportunity. What if Jesus is enough!? What can He and I accomplish today, together, if I really believe this!?

Check back in with me when I’m 50 and I might have an answer.

* I resisted the urge to write “single as a Pringle” because there is no such thing as single as a Pringle. Have you ever had JUST ONE frickin Pringle?! No. No you haven’t.

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Aug 25 2023
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feeling bad about feeling good

I have a face that prompts the question, “Are you okay?” quite a bit. I just have a stern look about me. Some might call it by another name, but to keep my internet presence pure (el-oh-el), we’ll just keep it at “stern.”

One time my dear friend yelled at me from across the church lobby, “Fix your face!!” Which was very helpful.

My face can give off the vibe that things aren’t always good with me.

I’m not here to talk about my face though. I’m here to talk about guilt.

I was once asked in a group setting, “What’s something you’re struggling with right now?” And instead of being honest and answering, “Nothing! I’m actually doing really well at the moment,” I spouted out some nonsense that I pulled out of nowhere because everyone else that answered before me was struggling with one thing or another.

It felt weird to be the only one who wasn’t.
As if, because I wasn’t struggling with anything, I probably wasn’t assessing my life properly. There probably was some hidden sin, or lack of discipline, or root of bitterness I was hiding in my heart.

I felt guilty for not feeling guilty.
I felt bad about feeling good.

My faith was formed during the young, restless, reformed years of church culture. Intense preaching from men that demanded perfection, lack of vulnerability from the pulpit, and a consistent focus on how terrible we are as humans led a lot of us in my generation to believe that if any minute of our day wavered from a focus on God, we were doomed. I spent so much time trying to find all that was wrong with me as a sinner that I missed the abundant love Christ has to offer to me.

That might be a little strong. But also, it’s not. YouTube sermons and podcasts that popped off in my college years were hyper focused on the wretched, sinful state of humanity. And don’t get me wrong. We are sinful. But we are also glorious ruins.

Dan Allender writes in his book Leading With A Limp: “To be like Jesus means that we must enter the complexity of both dignity and depravity. We are made in the image of God-glorious. We have taken on Adam and Eve’s hiding and blame-ruin. We are glorious ruins, bent glory. And it shows up in every moment of our existence until we one day see Jesus as he is and become as pure as he is pure.
We are both awful and awesome at the same time.“

Awful and awesome.

We are good.
And.
We sin.

We are glorious in our ruin because of Jesus.

And yet…I still feel bad about feeling good.

We don’t have a good theology of celebration. We have nailed our theology of sin and rebellion, and we know that we need a Redeemer. But what do we do with that redemption in the here and now? How do we live in our glory, given by Christ? I mean, we are his co-heirs, are we not?

On one side, it’s like we (I) need to keep our ‘pride’ in check – don’t feel too good and forget how sinful you are.

One the other side, we (I) like to play the game of “who has it worst” – the classic one-upper of how terrible our circumstances or current struggles are. Because it sometimes feels like pity from another is the easiest place to form connection. In reality, pity is where obligation grows, not love or relationship.

I think vulnerability is where connection, relationship, and love begins to grow. And not gross vulnerability that tries to hot-wire intimacy with another. Authentic, honest, this-is-where-I’m-at vulnerability.

And sometimes this-is-where-I’m-at is a good place.

“I actually feel really connected to God right now and it’s so sweet.”
“I had a great conversation with a coworker that was so encouraging.”
“Everything is really ordinary and normal right now and I know Jesus is near. That’s it. That’s the tweet.”

And it can be just as vulnerable to admit that you are in a good spot with Jesus as it is to admit the thing you’re keeping secret from everyone.

And it can be even more vulnerable to admit the deep joy you feel in a certain season of life because what if it ends? What if the season shifts? What if the other shoe drops?

So we self-protect and never celebrate. We feel bad about feeling good.

BUT.

If the joy of the Lord is our strength, we (I) need to start feeling good about feeling good. I need to strengthen myself and those around me with the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control that the Lord gifts to me. I need to share the faith, hope, and love that is growing deep roots in my heart – because someone might need to borrow from me for a little bit.

And when things aren’t good, I need you to share the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control that the Lord gifts to YOU. I’ll need to borrow your faith, hope, and love.

And instead of feeling bad about feeling good, we (I) need to feel great about being in a position to be seen, known, and loved for all the bad and good that we (I) bring to the table. Not only by God, but by those He has placed in the world around me.

So the next time I’m in a group setting and someone asks, “What’s something you’re struggling with right now?” if I’m not struggling, I’m going to answer honestly and say, “I’m struggling to come up with an answer for that because I feel held by my Beloved and it is really sweet.”

And I won’t feel bad about it.

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Jun 29 2023
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new wine/old skins

There’s this interesting parable in the Gospel accounts of Matthew, Mark, and Luke where Jesus talks about wine. 

"And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the skins burst, the wine spills out, and the skins are ruined. No, they put new wine into fresh wineskins, and both are preserved." - Matthew 9:17 (CSB)
"And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the wine would burst the wineskins, and the wine and the skins would both be lost. New wine calls for new wineskins." - Mark 2:22 (NLT)
"And no one pours new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the new wine will burst the skins and it will be spilled out, and the skins will be ruined. But new wine must be put into fresh wineskins. And no one, after drinking old wine wants new; for he says, 'The old is fine.'" - Luke 5:37-39 (NASB2020)

I can’t think of a time when I’ve heard a sermon preached on this random section of Jesus’ teaching that 3 of the 4 Gospel writers deemed significant enough to include. I’m sure I’ve heard one, I just can’t remember it at the moment.

There’s also a chance I haven’t heard one. Because let’s be honest, it’s a weird parable. And I grew up in a church that didn’t talk about wine, sssoooo

But.

What I do remember, vividly, is a conversation I had with my Spiritual Director a couple of months ago.

For those of you unfamiliar with spiritual direction – like I was just a few years ago – in an article in Christianity Today, Richard Foster defines it as, “an interpersonal relationship in which we learn how to grow, live, and love in the spiritual life. Spiritual direction involves a process through which one person helps another person understand what God is doing and saying.”

Basically, I sit with my Spiritual Director (SD from here on out) and talk about what God might be up to in my life.

So, back to a couple of months ago.

I was sitting with my SD in the cozy space she has for us to meet, talking about the recent movement of Holy Spirit and how He was really catching me off guard. I was experiencing relationships in new, fresh, safe ways and I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Sounds like new wine,” she so rudely quipped.

“Hmmm,” I so wisely murmured.

“You might need some new wineskins.”

“That feels really costly.”

And that conversation has been ringing loudly in my ears since May 15th.

Because new wineskins are costly. Literally, you have to go out and buy them. You can’t just walk into the cellar and pull out the old wineskins you’ve had for years and years. Because, as aforementioned by our Gospel writers, new wine will cause the old wineskins to burst.

But the old wineskins…man…they’re comfortable. They’re familiar. They’re accessible. They’re available.

They don’t cost anything.

I don’t have to spend emotion, money, time, energy, etc. on the old wineskins.

But if I put new wine into them, I lose the wine AND the wineskins.

New wineskins are costly.

They require work.
Time.
Energy.
Risk.
Vulnerability.
Stepping out of my comfort zone to go and get them.

But if I put the new wine from the new harvest into the new wineskins, everything gets preserved.

It’s so attractive to just walk into the cellar and grab the old wineskins. There’s less risk and less effort involved.

But the old wineskins just don’t work anymore.

All of the new that I have tried to force into the old patterns (aka: wineskins) can’t be held. It all falls apart. And I would argue it all falls apart for the better.

Because the Lord is offering new wine AND new wineskins.

He’s not giving me fresh wine without also providing the proper container.

He’s inviting me to receive both gifts – the wine and the skins – open handedly and without fear that, even though the new wineskins are costly, He is helping me figure out how to cover the tab.

Don’t get it twisted – this isn’t about my salvation and paying for my own redemption.

This is about God offering me fresh abundance and me wanting to stuff it into old patterns of living that have not served me well. The old is comfortable, like the quilt my Great Aunt Vi made. And it serves its purpose. It did the best it could for me with what it had.

But I have something new now.

And while the new might be costly, it will be worth it.
It will be worth it to see the craftsmanship the Creator comes up with to hold this new wine.

I can’t wait to see what’s to be stored.

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Mar 22 2023
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bending toward the sun

Don’t tell my mom, but I like to garden now.
And entering the 4th year of being an ‘urban gardener’ I decided now would be a great time to try my hand at seed starting.

One evening, while chopping up mini peppers to roast for the week ahead, I decided that this would be the year I would save the seeds and propagate them. I was going to get my money’s worth from my local grocery store’s mini snack pepper purchase.

I dried out the seeds, planted them in a seed starter, and voila – plants!

After a couple of weeks, tiny seedlings started to poke out. Having these tiny shoots in the Light House has been such a fun addition. To see them, care for them, anticipate them going into the ground and eventually producing fruit…what a delight.

What caught my attention a few days ago, though, is how they are bent. The massive window in my living room area lets in so much light, as previously mentioned here.

I said out loud to no one, “Huh…they’re bending toward the light. How ’bout that.”

And in bending toward their energy source, they receive what they need to thrive. Without this light, without facing what they need, they are left without a chance to grow.

You see where I’m going, right?

These tiny seedlings pointing me toward a deeper, richer, more rooted truth – I need to bend toward the Son.

What I love about gardening is the process. It’s slow and methodical and tender. No gardener reaps a harvest in a day. Effort and care and patience is required.

And that’s how it is in my relationship with Jesus. Effort and care and patience.

And like these seedlings, a small turn toward the sun/Son gives me enough to continue growing. And as I continue growing, I continue to soak up more of the sun/Son because my leaves are bigger, my roots are stronger, and my stem is more grounded.

But none of this happens if I don’t bend toward the Son.

It’s a slight bend. A small turning toward for effect to happen.

And that’s all it takes for me with Jesus – a small turning toward, gazing at His Love, for effect to happen.

I can confidently say that every day I have spent with Jesus has changed me.

I haven’t spent every day with Him, but the ones I have, have mattered. They have grown me. They have changed me on a molecular level.

So as I look at these plants for the next few weeks before they get put into the soil of The Gard, I hope they remind me to bend toward the Son as my source of nourishment and care.

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Feb 01 2023
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walk slowly

Have you ever gone on a walk with a toddler? I have. And it’s definitely one of my top 10 favorite things. I can say this because I’m not the parent and I don’t have to go on these walks all of the time.

On my most recent toddler walk we went at sub-sloth pace. Every leaf that got in our way was met with a tiny, “Hey!” Every stick, “Ooo stick!” as it was piled up next to a tree.

As others were already at our destination and my adult FOMO started to kick in, I realized this pace was worth paying attention to. I would have much rather picked the toddler up, walked at a faster pace, and gotten to the park in a ‘timely’ manner.

Instead, every step had intention.

We looked around.
We noticed the sticks.
We got annoyed with the leafs.
We spent time together.

And we walked at a pace that made me pay attention.

I believe God is big enough to connect with us in ways that our hearts need connection. Sure, there are spiritual rhythms and disciplines and structures set up for us to commune with the Lord, but He also knows us better than we know ourselves and gives us what we need when we need it.

I need God with flesh on. I need connection with His people. Not too many at one time though (#introvert).

And on a walk to a park on a sunny afternoon, His connection was a toddler with a slower than molasses pace. A pace that helped me to that connecting and communing with Him was as ‘simple’* as slowing down and looking around. Noticing the leaves on the ground, the fresh air, the love from friends, the fresh pizza dough waiting to be baked, the tiny hand holding mine, the hawk in the tree,

the

list

goes

on

But I don’t notice these things if I don’t walk slowly.

So, on this, the first of February in the year of our Lord two-thousand-twenty-three, my hope is to walk at a little bit of a slower pace. To notice the things that bring me joy and frustration. To notice the things that get in my way and say, “Hey!” before kicking them off the path. To bring myself fully in to the moment I am in, take a deep breath, and sigh out a tiny prayer of gratitude for the life I never imagined I would be able to live.

*I say ‘simple’ because slowing down is the most simple, yet complicated, thing we can do. I’d rather have coffee or an adult beverage to hash out my thoughts than write about them right now.

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