This is just a tribute.

My mom died this year.

Welcome to today's blog. Sorry to start out so heavy. But it won't stay that way, I promise.

I think it's kind of natural to reflect upon the last year when the new year comes upon us. That's what I was doing this morning, laying in bed reflecting. And naturally, the thing that occupied my mind is that.. my mom died.

It's easier to say now. I couldn't say it even a week ago. I could barely squeak out the phrase "passed away". I guess that means that healing is happening.

What I'd like to impart to you in this first-of-the-year blog is this: Don't forget to LIVE.

Really, let it sink in. Let me help you.

For those that maybe don't know, my mom lost her battle with cancer this year. I kind of like to say that she won the battle, because she never gave an inch to cancer, except what ground her weary body gave, against her will.. and I know that she is now at peace and out of pain. That seems like a win to me. Three and a half years after diagnosis, she succumbed, gracefully and full of faith, to that which had eaten away at her for all that time. What she left behind, was something I feel inadequate to explain to you. She showed me, and by proxy, you, how to live.

The key, if I understood her example correctly, is to treat each day as if it were your last. I don't think it's possible for us healthy, young(ish), whippersnappers to really do this. It's hard to make it feel real, that our time is indeed limited. But seeing my mom live under what was essentially a death sentence for years made it more real to me. Looking back at the last day I spent with her, that day when I had NO IDEA that the next day would be her last day, trying to remember if I said something more profound than "I love you, mom" (profound enough, I suppose). Wondering if I told her enough that I loved her. Trying to fight overwhelming shame over the day we were setting up for my wedding and I snapped at her over something completely stupid, or wondering if I could have been less of a pain as a teenager, or if I could have visited her just one more time... this all makes it real. Death comes for us. But we do not fear.

In the meantime, while we wait for the inevitable, we don't just wait. We live.

I was given a gift over the last few years.. I had a mom that was also my friend. We could talk about just about anything. My growing up years, she was solely "mom", as it should be when we are young. But over time, and through many trials, I began to understand who she was as a person, not just as my mom. And that person was quite amazing. She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful smile. She was the most gracious hostess. She listened, really listened, and paid attention to the lives of those around her. She was tenacious and believed fiercely in justice. She had compassion like no one I've ever known. She had great advice to give and a gentle way of prodding me, her grown-ass daughter, to listen and act on "what mom says to do". She loved and trusted in Jesus, always studying and continuing to learn and grow deeper, listening to, reading, and watching whatever she could get her hands on to know more about her precious Father. What she learned obviously sunk in, because I've never known someone more like Jesus than my mom.

The last few years, we enjoyed friendship as two women who were finding their way in new paths. She, with terminal illness. Me, with a new husband and daughter. I feel ridiculous even comparing the two. She knew all about husbands and daughters, and passed along her wisdom to me. I knew nothing about terminal illness, but was able to share with her some companionship, trips to the craft store, lunches on her balcony, friendships with (former) strangers struck up over IVs in the chemo infusion center, many more holidays, my own wedding, and so much more. She fought so hard, and her fight gave me those precious times, times I would never have had with her had she chosen not to live.

She chose to live each day with a smile on her face. She was in pain nearly all of the time, but most days you would never even know. She would be the first to buy a trinket for someone even while she lived on Social Security. She laughed, all the time. Even down to her last days, she poked fun at me when I watched her worriedly, warning me "you're staring..." as if to remind me that she was a grown woman and perfectly able to take care of herself. Even when it was obvious that her body was shutting down.

I always imagined that we would have a peaceful, bedside, goodbye. It sounds morbid to even say that I imagined it. But I had spent the weeks previous trying to prepare myself. I knew that it was a possibility, even while hoping and praying for a miracle. But we didn't get that peaceful goodbye. Life tumbled down upon us and I don't even remember what the last thing I said to her was. But I don't regret this. I know, deep down, that I did live, mom and I, we lived in the weird bubble that terminal illness gave us, for those last few years. And I am left to carry on her legacy, and continue to live.

My wish for you, and I know that my mom's wish for you this new year, is that you live. Dance. Do a little spin in the suit aisle at Macy's. Sway a bit in the arms of your love next to the ice cream cooler at the grocery store. Salsa in the ballroom with someone you've never even met. Climb a rock wall. Eat Loco Moco. Ride a scooter. Ride a motorcycle. Buy a canvas and paint something. Wear an ugly sweater just for a laugh. Start a band. Sing a song, really loud. Do Megan Trainor dance moves in your car.

Love those around you like your time, or theirs, is limited. Don't be afraid. Death will come for us all but we have been given a beautiful gift, the present, and the chance to make it count.

Do it for yourself, and do it for those who didn't get to see 2016.
I promise to dance this year. To live.
Because, yes, my mom died in 2015. But the more important thing - the thing that changes it all -  is that she lived.

Invested

Life is a complicated thing. Events happen that make us want to question the paths we've chosen. Did I invest in the right portfolio? It took such a major hit today. I didn't think this could ever happen, it was so stable and seemed so reliable. This investment supported me while I recovered from major financial damage at the hands of another money manager. It sheltered me while I ran amok in the investment world looking for something that felt safe. It helped me grow financially, exponentially, when all that made sense is that I should founder.
And today I found out that someone made a big mistake that may cause a lot of investors to lose their confidence in what was built. A mistake that affected a lot of people and may cause a load of financial damage to those who relied on it.

 I  don't claim to know the reasons why the decision was made, or how to fix it. But I do know this: I'm not withdrawing what I have invested in this portfolio or this money manager. My first impulse was to run, to say "it's happening again.. Everything I've put into this is falling down around me, just like before", and even to have the thought cross my mind that the stock market itself is faulty, that I should never have considered placing my future in its hands, even in part. My first impulse was to take my money and run. Far away.
But that thought quickly went away. I've grown so much, working with this money manager, you see. You don't just give up on what you've worked for because you get thrown for a loop. You don't give up on the remaining team of investors when they will need support more than ever. You have to stick it out for the long haul in order to see the proper turnaround. Your investment won't grow unless you continue to invest something in it.

I felt a lot of emotions today. Sadness, primarily, mixed with a threatening-to-boil cauldron of anger, fear, and betrayal that fought to overtake me and convince me of how very wronged I've been. But that was overcome quickly when I chose to remember everything good that I've received under the care of this money manager, and honestly, when I chose to control my emotions. Is this the way I want it to be? Negative, hurtful? No, it's not. So I choose to think otherwise. The negative emotions were quickly replaced with a heart feeling very much broken for the manager and the family around him who must also be feeling the sting of this very public mistake.

The thing is, I know the guy who runs this whole investment house. He's been doing this business for a very long time and he's seen a lot of money managers make a lot of mistakes. He knows how to fix the damage that's been done and turn what seems like a loss into a gain. He has this knack for making something beautiful out of something ugly. I'm actually kinda interested to see what may blossom out of this steaming pile of... Mistakes.

The benefit of what I've received in this time of investment has far, far exceeded any loss I may have taken from this mistake. I wouldn't trade anything I've gained just to avoid this troublesome moment in my life.

It really all comes down to this -
God is still good, and I will be grateful.

Mean Things I Say About Myself

Life is changing. I'm doing well at my job. I'm moving. I'm getting married. I'm still trying to fight my way back to God in spite of Christians.

Wait, I just realized that needs to be addressed. It just blurted out like that, "in spite of Christians", and I recognized, just now, I need to deal with some resentment.

Shit just got real.

This was not what I was gonna blog about.. but let's explore it, shall we?

I feel like I may be leaning on this as a cop-out. My excuse for life not going the way I wanted and a reason to not have to fight to get it back. Just blame it on others and call it good. Hang out. Stay in a rut.

This isn't about the past. This is about now. This is about the unjust way I see people treated, about the way I see others bring judged and talked down to and demeaned by Christians without even a second thought, without even the slightest consideration of the idea that they might be driving people away from Christ by their actions.

I have to then ask, is this me? Am I one of those people? Do others look at me and say "if that's what being a Christian is all about, I want nothing to do with it?"

Dear God, let it not be. Not me. Not after all the work I've done to try to create a life that shows others the love and grace of Christ. Was all that work in vain? I know I never arrived. But now I worry that I never even really started.

Someone said that exact phrase to me ("if that's what being a Christian is all about, I want nothing to do with it") about a friend of mine, because of the way my friend was treating me. I was simultaneously heartbroken and furious. How dare the friend treat me this way and besmirch the very image of the God they claimed to emulate? How could I ever undo such damage to the third party that was observing it and turning away from God? How could I ever trust the friend or the friend's claim of righteousness again?

Um, mirrors. Ever heard of them, Boechler? You hypocritical, lazy human. How dare you judge another person for messing up when you yourself have fallen so far, so fast?

I should have a gold medal for pulling a life 360. One moment - church girl, worship leader, queen bee with a guitar and a microphone. Next moment - shell-shocked, resentful, meeting random guys in random places just to feel like I'm alive and worth something. Running away from the God I had served all my life because His people bullied me and left me in the cold.

Oh, poor baby.

You know what I am? I'm too freaking judgmental. And it stresses me out. Probably because it's not my place; it's not my load to carry. I have enough to work on in myself to have the time or energy to micromanage other Christians' choices.

So why do I care so damn much about other people's choices?

I'm guessing it's because of the effect they have on me. These choices leave me all alone. They make me feel inferior. They prevent me, or at least create constant barricades, from me doing the things that I love and feel passion for in my life.

But again, not my place to worry about.

I've always been stronger when I'm alone.

No one can make me feel inferior without my consent. (Thanks, Eleanor)

No one can prevent me from reaching the goals I've set, without my permission. Especially when those goals and dreams are in line with the things God has called me to do. He gave me that passion and that dream, and He will help me fulfill it. He won't make people's decisions for them, but people can't stand in His way.

So maybe I need to stand back and not get in His way. Stop getting all up in arms about other people making mistakes and deal with my own stuff.

And stop worrying about never reaching my goals. Start taking the steps that I can take, and take a deep breath. Smile. Love. Remember the God who loves me and who wants nothing but the best life for me.

And just go for that life.

I need to let others' decisions be just that, others'. I am responsible for me, and the things other people do, or don't do, are no excuse for me laying back and taking the easy road.

Cause the easy road may lead to the lake, but the hard road? That leads to the mountaintop.

Injustice Doesn't Have To Break Us

Once upon a time there were some holiday parties. People were drinking alcohol. Some of these people were leaders in a particular church. No judgement here, just saying it as it was.

These parties and drinking ended up getting some people removed from that church. I wasn't really clear on the thinking behind that whole situation, but it happened. Ok.

I was at those parties. I wasn't drinking.. in fact, I was the only one saying it might not be a good idea, thinking that as leaders we might set a better example. At least I was the only one I know of that said anything, I felt like the odd man out for sure. Oh well.

The next month we all sat down and decided it was a bad idea to have drinking at these events and decided to change things. Lesson learned, change it and move on. Got it.

The point of this little history lesson is that I realized recently that there may have been a little injustice here reagrding those parties. More history.

Shortly after these parties, I was asked to become the worship leader at this church. I ran the music department, such as it was, prepared songs for each service, the usual. I had a really hard time with the existing team. A few of them were openly hostile, a few were hostile behind my back and tried their best to get rid of me. No one really likes change, especially in a church. But I stuck with it, because the church leadership told me they believed in me, that I brought the new ideas and new spirit that the church needed.

It might have been one of the hardest situations of my life. Knowing that people wanted me out, they didn't want to change, they wanted things to stay the same stale old way they always had been. It's easy to do, really. Human nature would have us stay where it's comfortable. But nevertheless it wasn't easy to deal with. The only thing that made it bearable was that I had the leadership standing behind me.

Or so I thought.

One day right as my practice was about to start and the band members were coming in, two of the church leaders sat me down and asked about the parties I mentioned. They just asked if they had occurred, which I said that they did. Then they mentioned that I had posted on Facebook that I had a beer with lunch one day, which I did confirm. They asked me to step down from leadership because though they didn't feel like it was a problem to have had a beer with lunch, they just didn't want me telling anyone about it.

Hmmm.

I was shellshocked and devastated at the time and didn't have time to process it because everyone was arriving for practce. I just walked out as I was asked to do and sat in my car crying. It was only after I had a clear head again that I reliazed that they were saying that they didn't care what I did as long as no one found out about it. That I could do something that they themselves said was perfectly ok, (drinking a beer) as long as I didn't tell anyone I had. Seems to me that how they really felt was that drinking a beer was not ok. And if so, fine. Just tell me that you don't want your leadership drinking and I would have never done it again. Done and done. But instead, they asked me to step down "until it all blew over".

That was scary because apparently there was a beer-fueled storm raging somewhere that I knew nothing about.

Regardless. I stepped down as asked and after a week's worth of thought, I realized that if they really believed in me and thought I was what was needed in that church at that time, they would have stood by me. They would have seen the drinking of one beer with lunch as a ridiculous thing for others to get upset over and we could have easily talked to the people that were apparently offended.

But that's not what happened. So I decided to step away from that situation and from that church. It seemed silly to go back to that battle against the people that didn't want me there when it was more apparent that many others didn't too. And I could have dealt with that if I had the backing of the leadership. But I could see that I no longer did.

So I moved on.

This was a couple years ago. It's in the past but it still bothers me almost every day. And I think it's because of the injustice of it all. No one got to hear my story. I'm pretty sure that most people think I was drinking at those parties when I was the only one who stood up against it. I stood up against even my friends at those parties. I stood up against all those angry and ruthless people on that worship team that didn't want to change, that would say and do whatever it took to get the old ways back. And this is what I got in exchange. My dreams crushed, my reputation unjustly smeared in front of some people that I really looked up to, my faith in God demolished. They never even asked for my side of the events at those parties, never even asked if I had been drinking myslef. I'm pretty certain that people at that church think I was drinking and being rowdy at those parties, and that when I got called on it, I got angry and left.

Not so.

I left because I knew I would never be given support or grace by that church. Even in a situation where they themselves said I didn't do anything wrong, I was embarrassed in front of those I had been asked to lead, and I was asked to leave. Not easy to process or accept, even still.

The anger came later. But less at the people that did this than at God. This had been my biggest dream, to lead worship. It still is. I miss it desperately. But He handed me my dream and then let His people take it away, harshly and unjustly. God is supposed to be the defender of the weak, the enforcer of justce. Where was He when all this happened? How could He let me believe that I was someone who could change things when all this was coming down the pike, unbeknownst to me?

I don't feel that way anymore. But at the time I felt completely abandoned and couldn't see any church as more than a big bunch of liars only concerned with the way things look on the outside. Now I can see that I do indeed have a gift. That I can use my music and my talents, as meager as they are, to break spiritual chains in people. To break through the walls that would prevent them from really seeing Jesus for who He is. And while that gift sits on the back burner right now, it's not gone. It's just waiting to be opened up and used again. And I can wait til the right time for that.

And this is what happened next. Suddenly, I found myself on the outside. I found myself looking into the church (not just this one church, but "church" as all churches in general)  as one who has never known God might look at it. I no longer had any need to defend its actions or explain its weirdness or try to understand why there are certain things in the Bible and the church's beliefs that can't be explained. I, who had grown up in the church, and always, always, followed the rules, found myself adrift. I felt like there was no point in even labeling myself as a Christian anymore. I did all the right things and sacrificed the vast majority of my time and devotion for my whole life, only to be kicked to the curb like a piece of trash. And my eyes were opened to see how the church can look to one who hasn't been inside its doors.

It was a gift. I didn't see it at the time, of course, but now I know. I went through this because not only was I stong enough to handle it (eventually, I did have a few pretty spectacular meltdowns those months after), but because it was going to change my perspective so I could be truly relevant to those outside the church. Because while I did want to exact change from within, my main goal was to reach those outside anyway. And I never would have, being trapped inside like I was. Unable to grow, unable to make changes, stunted and blinded by the old ways and by the oppression of people fighting aginst me all the time.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this. Partly I posted it because I wanted the truth out there. Not that anyone that didn't know the truth would be reading this. They all unfriended me anyway. But I think there's a freedom in speaking it. I want to be unburdened from this injustice. It's no longer mine to carry. It's no longer mine to drag around every day and feel sad about. It's over and done, and I can see at least some of the reasons it happened. I'm gonna take with me the good and try not to let the bad taint my view of the future (easier said than done).

It is absolutely not meant as a slam on anyone involved. It's about me and the things I learned, and, well, I can't explain it without explaining it.

And I guess just to let anyone out there who has been treated unjustly that it doesn't have to break you. Even if the truth is never revealed to those people at that church, I can be whole again, and strong again. And you know what, you can too.

Here's something to think about.   

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

That Jesus guy had some good stuff to say.

The Journey

I've always heard phrases like " it's all about the journey, not the destination." and "take time to smell the roses.", but I've never really put them into practice.

My motto is more like " run at 110% 24/7 or until completely empty and frustrated".

I learned this past summer how to enjoy the journey.

Here's the tale.

In July, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Stage 4, very advanced, and with a very limited prognosis. I still can barely believe it. She spent a week in the hospital with family there every day, completing the diagnosis and starting treatment. There were complications along the way, and one one particularly bad day, I was very much at the end of my ability to process anything more.

I was leaving the hospital for the night. I said my goodbyes, and walked outside, where my love was waiting for me, just to spend a little time with me and to help me decompress a little. We walked around the side of the hospital and onto the beautiful walking trails that go all over the hospital campus. As I started to tell him about the day, one in which we really thought we were losing her, I completely broke down. Faced with the very near reality of losing my mom, I was wracked with guilt and fear, guilt that I hadn't spent enough time with her when I could have, and fear that she would not live to see her grandkids grow up, or to see me get married someday, or even just to have another Christmas with the family.

I lost it. I must have bawled like a baby for 20 minutes. A few people walked by, and though I'm sure it's not unusual to see a woman crying outside a hopsital, I imagine they must have wondered. I was completely wrecked.

As I calmed down a bit and we started to walk back, he gave me what may be the most simple, yet the most profound advice that anyone has given me so far in this journey with a loved one through cancer.

"You don't know how much time she has left. It could be a few months, and it could be years. The thing you need to do now is simply to spend as much time with her as possible. Make your memories. Then no matter what, if she is around a little time or a long while, you have no regrets. And no regrets about time that's already gone by. Make the most of what you have now."

That's a paraphrase of what he said to me, but it's really the soul of it. Smell the roses, in other words.  Don't live with the regret of the past. Make a more beautiful future with what you know you have now, which is just today. That's what I have for now.

So that's what I did. I did what I needed to do to make sure I spent time with her, as much as possible. Sometimes that's a quick visit, and some days we spend the whole day together, crafting or shopping or having lunch. It's been so wonderful. To have a mom as your friend when you're an adult is a very precious thing, I can talk to her about anything and she's always there to support me. I hope I've become a little of the same to her.

I'm happy to report that what was a very bleak prognosis in July has now turned into talk of remission. She was never supposed to have gone into remission. The chemo was only intended to buy as much time as possible, to make her as comfortable and as happy as possible for as long as it could.

The last CT scan she had, the doctor had to actively search for any of the tumors that had completely overtaken her liver. He finally found a tiny one and said "oh, THERE it is!"

My mind is still blown over this.

And it's funny, cause when all of this happened, I kinda figured it was the last straw. God had given up on me and on her for good. If you read my blog or you know me, you probably know that I've been having a hard time lately with understanding how it is that God loves us when terrible things like this happen. And in July, I just threw up my hands and thought "I had it right all along. We are alone in this."

And when I got the text from mom in September that her doctor told her she was in the first stages of remission, I cried yet again. I remembered that God has a hand in the lives of men, that He has not left us alone, and I realized that He would go to such great lengths to win back his one silly little wandering child, me.

Did He give my mom cancer? No. But he used what was happening with her to show both her and I that His love is very real and very present.

And that, my friend, is the journey. As we approach another Christmas, one in which my mom will participate, I have a very grateful and overwhelmed heart to welcome the season with.

Appropriate that next week is Thanksgiving.

Appropriate that through heartache, I've learned a bit about joy.

And appropriate that those grandkids get more time with their grandma. And that I get more days, and more memories, with my mom. I intend to make some very good ones.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Does anyone remember "Choose Your Own Adventure" books? I totally loved them. The books were written in first person. You read a page or two, and then you choose your next action, like "open the door" or "walk down the hallway to the left", each of which prompt you to a certain page number. Sometimes you solve the mystery, and sometimes you... die.

I used to hold my page so that if I died I could have a do-over. I'd go through the books over and over again til I had exhausted every possible ending. I think the appeal was just that - I could go back and try over if I messed up.

Not so in life.

It's funny how easy it is in life to make a decision, turn the page, and find yourself somewhere you never intended to be. Oops. Lost my place. No way to go back.

Time to turn this misstep, and all its results, into something amazing.

There is nothing that can't be redeemed.

There are gonna be consequences to our decisions, certainly. I am going to have to deal with the results of walking the path I've walked, good or bad. But there is no point that we can reach where we are beyond the reach of redemption.

I've had a hard time with this one lately. I feel like the bad decisions I've made over the last year have put me out of the reach of God and beyond His ability to use me to do good things in the world, unusable to make Him known. What I know in my heart is that this isn't true, that He can indeed use me and that others can still see Him in me through my actions, and through my life.

What my head tells me is that someone as messed up as I am would be a hypocrite of the worst sort to try to encourage others to learn more about a God who loves them. I'm still struggling with trying to believe that He loves me, some days. Deep down, I know it, but there's so much I don't understand, that I can't explain or apply logic to.

My faith and my brain want to have a war. I'm trying to draw a cease fire.

These are the things I identify myself as, many of which I've lost sight of lately:

A writer; a teller of stories and truths.
A singer of songs. One who can break down the walls in people's lives through music.
A lover of people. One who wants to take care of others, to provide hope through my actions.
A dreamer. One with lofty goals and focused vision.
A giver, of time, money, love.. I love to give to others. It makes me feel complete.
A protector.

I need to make time in my life to get these things back. I'm running myself so ragged that I can't even remember who I am some days. I'm becoming this worn out, stressed, self-focused mess that I can't stand to see. I want "me" back.

It makes me sad that people who have only met me in the last few months have only seen this spiritually struggling side of me. I want to tell them "wait, this is not who I really am, the real me was the one with the idealistic view of religion, the title of worship leader, the one involved in anything and everything church-y.".

But then I realize, whis IS who I really am. I am a girl with questions and fears, who believes in God but has lost faith in people, who wants to be loved and give love, who wants a balance of answers and mysteries, who wants to give, wants to be nurtured, wants to enjoy every step of this journey and not live in regret.

Each day is a whirlwind. It goes by so fast. I've been in this weird flux for a year now. A year. I've blogged about it, talked to friends about it, cried, laughed, said sarcastic things (I know, weird), said profound things. I'm kinda at the point where my words are just words, I need actions. I need God back in my life, I need to forgive people for how they've treated me, I need to remember that life isn't fair, at least not my perception of fair.

I'm ok with that. I'm gonna choose THIS adventure: to take the time I need to take to re-center and refocus myself on what matters. My God. My family. My friends. My self.

Ready or not, here I come.

Hi, friend.

I don't want to be angry anymore. I've decided it's time to let the past go.. I want back the peaceful and hopeful life I had a year ago, I spite of the issues I was dealing with at the time. I want my center and focus back. I want to use the gifts and talents I know I have to be able to show people the love of God. And I want to be unafraid to pursue my dreams again.

Jesus isn't religion, and I don't need religion. I just need Jesus and I need community with people who also need him. Easy enough.

I realized today that I miss Him. I've let my bitterness and anger get in the way of remembering who He really is and that he simply wants a relationship with me, to be my friend. And I want that back. I want that confidante, that one I can talk to when everything goes awry and I don't know what to do. That guidance that speaks to me in my own voice and uses my intuition to guide me.

Hi Jesus, it's me, Kim. I've been wandering but I'm ready to feel settled again. Is this seat taken?


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