no words

I asked Tysen last night if she knew Randy and I were leaving today for California. "No... do you want to see my flashlight?" she responded.

Tessa said goodbye to me just like any other night. But cried when she hugged my dog.

For the first time in months Kenzi didn't ask me to buy her sparkly boots for Christmas. (Which I've already done and wrapped.) But asked me to put gummy worms on her Amazon wish list instead.

Kaylee gave me a card that her great-grandma had given her great-grandpa 50 years ago, and showed me her favorite pair of slippers.

Even Kasen gave me a "Love you" and a hug.

Most of the adults have had the sentiment: "Be careful. Be safe. Have fun. Keep in touch."

But my sister-in-law Kari and I finally tapped into what everyone has really been saying, through their actions and words that seem to fall short. As we hugged we said: "There are no words."

No words for how great the last two years have been. To be so close to such great friends and family. No words for all the experiences. The tooth fairy and Elf on the Shelf. Zoo trips and skating rinks. Church and work and family dinner nights. Late night chats and early morning triathlons. A home I created here.  

No words. Inadequate words. So "goodbye for now" will have to be good enough.

a necessary mess

I've been too busy making a mess to write much lately. 

But I've been thinking about how sometimes life is messy right before a breakthrough. A move. A new adventure. A growth opportunity. A deeper sense of purpose.

So I'm embracing my mess.

Knowing that it is necessary to get me where I want to be. 

Randy flew into town yesterday. Today we load the u-haul. And tomorrow we'll be on our way!

everything is beautiful

Seven months ago Rand and I stayed at this very bare bones albergue. Which was as stark on the inside as it was the outside. The beds were barely as wide as my hips.

But what I remember most about this stay is not the lack of luxury. What I remember is that as we prepared to leave in the morning Rand said, "Love makes everything more beautiful, doesn't it?" And when I looked at him like he was crazy he pointed at the yellow (flowers? plant? bush?) growing out of a rock pile across the street.

This memory came to me today as I was thinking about how beautiful Ohio is right now. How yellow. And orange, red, and green.

I'll miss Ohio's colorful seasons. (California was already brown when I visited in September.) But I'm looking forward to the challenge of looking with new eyes. Eyes that see -- that know to look for -- beauty in all things!

"Well done, good and faithful servant."

Quakers have this practice of writing and recording what they call a "minute". I like the way Bethesda Friends Meeting defines this:

A minute is a statement of belief that an individual or group would like to record for others to see, both now and in the future about a certain topic or person.

On Sunday I was given a minute that Xenia Monthly Meeting, the church that I have been speaking at twice a month for the past couple of years, wrote about me.

It reads, in part:

Xenia has benefited from [Katie's] insights into the world of practical spiritual living. We have been uplifted by her infectious smile, her candor, and her ability to find a spiritual message in the most mundane activities of life. We have been buoyed in spirit by her eternal optimism and her willingness to take risks as God has led her in her life. 

If I could have put into words two years ago how I hoped God would use me during my time in Ohio, these are the kinds of things I would have asked for. This is precisely the kind of legacy I would have asked to leave. And through this minute it was like God was saying, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

My heart was humbled. And filled with love for God and this community.

The minute was read and presented to me right before I was invited to offer a final sermon. I used this time to reminisce with folks about our time together:

• The first sermon I gave, when it was so cold in the sanctuary that I wore a coat and hat. 
• The Sunday they invited Lois, their other regular pastor, and I to preach a sermon together. 
• Our sermon series on spiritual gifts.
• The Sunday I told them I was training for a triathlon. The Sunday I told them why I'd gotten divorced. The Sunday I told them I was going to Spain, and the Sunday I told them I was moving to California. 

I also used this time to tell them how they had ministered to me. From using our Sunday school hour and long lunches at Frisch's to get to know each other better, to sharing their very personal struggles so that we could pray for one another, to wearing brightly colored socks, holding hands with their spouses every week, and simply allowing me to be me.

God has blessed me so richly with the connection I have to this church. And I'm grateful to know that the feeling is mutual.

Do I have the courage to keep showing up?

Two people I care about have been "caught" in wrong actions this year. And have responded very differently in their relationship to the church.

The first was engaging in an extramarital relationship. And when confronted, stopped going to church. Labeled that particular church judgmental. And started looking for a new church filled with people who would be excited to support and worship with the new young couple, ignorant of their history.

The second is facing criminal charges for possessing child pornography. And when confronted, showed up the next Sunday morning in desperate need of prayer. The church responded with an outpouring of love and support, and is seeking to take whatever steps necessary to make themselves a safe and welcoming place for all, which includes full disclosure.

When I was going through my second divorce, I was the person who stopped going to church. Who started looking for a new church where no one knew my story. So I wouldn't have to confront my pain in community.

When I was in college, I attended the church that was a safe space. No one pretended to be perfect, but it even went beyond that. We fully embraced ourselves as a broken people, seeking to listen and respond to God in our lives and in the world. Together.

These situations have taught me how beautiful it is to be in a place where you can be who you are. Without having to hide for fear of condemnation. And how painful it can be to be so afraid of judgment that you'd rather turn your back on your community than invite them into your struggle.

Our conversations tend to focus on how the church should respond in these situations. And, more often than not, how the church gets it wrong.

But what about how we as individuals should respond when confronted with our own shortcomings?

It takes a great deal of courage and humility to keep showing up. And we do face the possibility of being judged and condemned by a people who are called to love. But we are also doing a disservice to the church if we never challenge them to be who they say they are. And we miss out on the beauty and healing that comes when the church gets it right.

spiritual friendships

I've been richly blessed over the years with the deep, spiritual friendships I've formed with so many amazing women. And I had the opportunity to be with the majority of them last week!

Christina and I were in the college gospel choir together and did ministry at the Grand Canyon for three months one summer. She continues to minister to me as I see her putting God first and praying daily to be the best wife and mother she can be.

Angie and I were in a weekly prayer group for several years after I first moved to Indiana. Her friendship saw me through the hardest times of my life. And she continues to minister to me as I see her trusting God in her workplace and in navigating the single life.

My former coworkers at Friends United Meeting, their new staff members, and many members of their board of directors have also given rise to spiritual friendships, shoulders to cry on, women to celebrate with, who also hunger to do God's work in the world, the office, and the home.

Each of these relationships has enriched my life. Encouraged me. Held me accountable. And challenged me to be faithful.

Thank you ladies! You are loved.

I trust God to bring into my life another deep, spiritual friendship(s) when I make the move to California. Because he knows how important these relationships are to me. How they help nurture and guide me, and teach me more about him.

Thank you for joining me in prayer that a new friendship would form for me, and for those of you in need of enriching friendships!

"home"

I did not want to leave California yesterday morning. I had such an amazing month with Randy, his family and friends. From getting a closer look at his catering business, to house hunting, a weekend at the beach, concerts, hikes, and visiting several churches, I felt completely at home.

Yet I find myself comfortable in Ohio this morning as well. In a place I've made home for the past two years. Walking my dog to the sound of combines in nearby fields. With my family right around the corner.

I imagine this will make leaving at the end of the month both easier and harder. Harder because I'll be leaving home. But easier because I'll be going home.

My hope for the next few weeks is to take time to focus on what I have here. To cherish the relationships, the scenery, the support, and the life lessons that make up Ohio. So that when the car is loaded and we are on our way west, the memories and the gratitude will go with us.