the engagement story

Gather around my friends...

It was a dark and stormy night, quite foggy too, on the day Brian and I became engaged; just perfect for trying to plan an outdoor proposal, I am sure. Because Brian and my work schedules were a little conflicting during this time, Tuesday afternoon was almost the only day open for us both before Christmas and we decided to have a nice date despite the weather. He originally told me that we were going downtown for a later dinner at a cozy little Italian restaurant, thus we needed to kill some time beforehand. After he picked me up, we drove around the mountain chatting and catching up when Brian turned to go down to the brow overlook.

This was not strange to me because we often drive to the brow and talk and look at the city lights. I was completely oblivious to what was about to happen. We both got out of the truck and looked down toward the brow. He kinda shrugged his shoulders and said, "Do you want to go down?" [I'm telling you, the man was as calm as could be during this whole process thus far. I am truly amazed looking back.] Well I have always found fog to be romantic and a little fog didn't bother me in the least. I was still thinking that we were simply killing time, so we might as well stop at the brow for a little while. Before we left the truck to walk down, Brian pulls out from behind his seat this relatively large cardboard box and begins to take it with us. Before I could even ask, "What in the world?" he told me it was an early Christmas present he wanted me to have. Again, call me naive, but I really suspected nothing.

We got down to the overlook and gazed at the mysterious wall of fog surrounding us. It was so quiet, the kind of muffled quiet only fog can bring. I eyed the box and Brian gave me his knife to cut the tape. Inside was a stained-glass crimson star wrapped in newspaper. It was so beautiful. I picked it up and held it for a moment. I sat it back in the paper and gave Brian a hug. He laughed and said, "Well why don't you look inside?"

This is the moment, folks, when dear old Kaysie finally got a twinge of suspicion. My heart started beating faster and my breath kind of caught in my throat. I remember thinking to myself, "He's not about to..." I slowly opened the tiny door in the center of the star. Inside was the most beautiful ring I've ever seen and a poem, which I quickly recognized was written by Wendell Berry, written in Brian's handwriting taped inside the door.

I didn't move, I didn't breathe, I just stood there with my hands covering my mouth not believing what was sitting in front of me. I think I remember my leg shaking because I was trying not to cry, which didn't end up working. I am unsure of how long I would have remained in this stone-like position if it had not been for Brian finally reaching inside and taking the ring, getting down on one knee and telling me how much he loved me before asking me to marry him. I think you might suspect what my answer was... YES! He slipped the ring onto my finger and we both stared at it for a few moments. As we hugged, my happy tears soaked into his jacket while I looked up into the evening sky unable to utter anything, yet my heart was overwhelmed with gratitude. We were both speechless for a little while.

And I thought my heart was going to explode from pure happiness. God is truly good to those who wait for Him, to those who seek Him...

welcome to a new beginning

I'm just going to come right out and say it. This may be a bad idea. Switching blog names, locations, and hosts may potentially succeed in dismissing the majority of my followers, search engine ratings, and my already fading blogging remembrance. Yet I've been itching to remake and remodel my blogging existence and hopefully stimulate my creative writing juices through that process. As you can see, a few things have changed -- such as my blog name (Alabaster Box is now and I often wonder), web address (www.alabasterboxblog.com has changed to www.andioftenwonder.blogspot.com), and template layout. I switched back to Blogspot because their new features intrigued me and the templates are easier to change, edit, and update without having to pay for a host like I was with Wordpress.

So with all the many changes around here, what hasn't changed?

Hopefully you will discover, if you choose to stick around, that the message will remain as redeemed, honest, and heartfelt as I can write it, by God's grace. That is my purpose here. The last few months (years?) have been a refining time for more than just my writing, and I suppose my greatest goal in setting out here is to be as sincere and sanctified as I can. It is so easy to hide behind our blog names and create an appearance we wished always described us, though sometimes we really do this unintentionally. I'll have you know right now -- I am not perfect and I do not wish my writing to exhibit any other opinion. I serve a perfecting, merciful God and any good you see, any encouragement you receive, any comfort you find comes straight from Him alone. I am simply pleased that He chooses to use me.

So without further ado, I welcome you to my new blogging home and hope you enjoy and I often wonder as much (or perhaps more!) than you enjoyed Alabaster Box. Let me know what you think about the new package and if you don't mind changing your links I would appreciate it. I have tried my best to redirect the RSS and email feeds for those of you who subscribe.

RSS and email subscribers CLICK HERE to see the new site.

insights must lead us toward trust

"You have amazing insights."

If I was honest, I would say that this is perhaps the most common response to my blogging. It is a kind comment for sure, as are most comments here, and I am thankful and encouraged by each one. I do, however, sometimes wonder if being recognized for mere "insight" satisfies me too much. Yes, I do posses a weird capability for discovering something interesting from seemingly insignificant moments such as taking out the trash or driving down the interstate. The world is brimming with lessons and reflections of incredible truths. And that is mostly what I use this blog for; writing down the trivial, sometimes interesting insights I collect during the course of my existence. (And yes, those insights have been running dry around here lately, but please be patient with me.)

The thought of being appreciated for written insights used to hold a great deal of pleasure for me. Until I realized that creating a shiny museum of various and sundry "godly thoughts" wasn't really my God-given purpose in life. And that explosive revelation came from a now beloved author named Brennan Manning. About three months ago my eyes grazed these words that led to a complete renovation of my life and my faith. Manning begins the first chapter of his book Ruthless Trust with these words:

This book started writing itself with a remark from my spiritual director. "Brennan, you don't need any more insights into the faith," he observed. "You've got enough insights to last you three hundred years. The most urgent need in your life is to trust what you have received." [emphasis mine]

My eyes would move no further. Those words weren't only meant for Brennan Manning. They were meant for me. I felt the urgency of this conviction. My shallow appetite for the comfortable was exposed. I've filled this blog with over 300 "insightful" posts, but how well do I really trust what I've sometimes casually written? It is far easier to observe and discuss the beauty and intensity of the Christian faith rather than to recklessly cast myself, my dreams, my fears, my insecurities, my infatuation with safety onto an unflinching trust in Jesus Christ.

It is one thing to appreciate truth. It is quite another to trust it. "Insight" denotes an understanding of something. "Trust" tastes like responsibility and commitment. But understand, one is not wrong and the other right. Both are obviously needed for faith in God, as I am learning. Insight and trust nourish each other. By understanding truth in ways that are engaging and applicable, our trust in God should be fed. In turn, in our desperate quest to trust God, we gain a deeper and greater appreciation of what exactly we do or don't understand.

The challenge to actually trust God forced me to to deconstruct what I had spent my life constructing, to stop clutching what I was so afraid of losing, to question my personal investment in every word I had ever written or spoken about Jesus Christ and fearlessly ask myself if I trusted Him. (Manning)

That is the question I am forcing myself to answer. Am I content to observe and record my faith in Christ from a safe distance without risking personal investment in the truth that I share or claim to believe? More than ever before, I hope that I may humbly answer "no." It is worthless to make bold claims about God's goodness, His grace, His love, and His faithfulness without fearlessly offering my whole self on the altar of my assertions.

significance, failures, and sunday evenings

Yes, I know. You are shocked that there is a new post here, finally. You were beginning to think Kaysie had forgotten her Wordpress password or crashed her computer or something terrible like that, weren't you? Well nothing justifiable like that has happened to me (thank God), but I think I have neglected everyone long enough.

Truth is I've been pondering the significance of this little blog, yet again. Sometimes it can feel useless to keep mumbling away about observations and topics that are perhaps only important to myself, assuming others have and can say it better, and really not wanting to put forth enough effort to extract my opinion and spread it out here in a readable fashion. Excuses, excuses. Not really worth much, but it feels better to say all that out loud.

But a friend and I have been discussing significance and failure lately, and I couldn't help but connect what I was learning through our conversations with my opinion about this blog and my writings. Occasionally during the course of existing in this world, one begins to wonder, "Am I really making any difference? Does my life matter? Am I fulfilling my God-given purpose right now?" All great questions to ask, especially if you discover encouraging answers. But it seems to me that sometimes (oftentimes?) in my quest to find and achieve significance, my motivation gets tangled up in another web of questions and fears, like, "What is holding me back from running after what I believe God is calling me to do? What if I fail miserably? How can I make a difference when the task before me is so insurmountably huge and I am just one person, one voice, one life? And what if I fail miserably (wait, did I already say that?)?"

Again, all good questions that I know you've had before too. But for me, I believe it gets back to two things: truth and obedience. I painfully recognize that I am a sinner who fails much more often than I want to, but because of Jesus Christ and His redemption in my life I am moving forward and not backwards (1 Peter 1:18-19, Phil. 3:12-14). His opinion of me is immeasurably beyond what I deserve -- He loved me enough to die for me (John 3:16), He chose me as His eternal bride even though I was stained and immoral (Eph. 1:7-9, 5:25-27), He is working in me and through me every day, perfecting what He began until He comes back (Phil. 1:6). All that is truth. And in order to feel the kind of biblical significance that I should, I must believe what He says. This truth sets me free from my twisted opinions about myself and my significance.

Yet even when the truth is burning in my chest -- even when I believe what He says and I want to run this course with every ounce of passion I have -- there still lies another brick wall I always seem to slam into. Failure. Or rather, the fear of it. What if I did take that jump and go for what I think God wants me to do ... and then I failed? You know, hit the ground with a loud, painful thud. And everyone was watching. Suddenly taking that next step seems to be the most illogical, stupid thing I could ever imagine doing. And I'm paralyzed. Again.

Life in Christ really isn't about failure, however, it is about obedience. That makes a huge difference in my mind. Sometimes I become so fixated on the results (or the desired results) of my efforts that I loose sight of the purpose and motivation behind and beneath whatever I'm doing. God simply wants obedience. And if I follow Him into something and it "fails" or doesn't look like I wanted it to, if I was obedient, it really isn't a failure.

So with all that said, if I believe that God has called me to blog or write or speak or walk or share or collect red jelly beans (ok, so that last one was random), by all means I should cast the fear of failure behind me, believe who He is and what He says about me, and live in obedience to His Word. That's where I find my significance and purpose.

saturday mornings

I don't know what it is, but to me Saturdays are filled with such gracious possibility. They are a breath of clean air in a claustrophobic world. A patch of crayola blue sky on a cloudy day. Technically, Saturdays are simply another day to fill up the time breaks in your day planner with more of the same, but sometimes I think we need space, even if it is just in the morning, for breathing. And that is what I hope to make out of this moment. To relax near a hot cup of tea, my friends made of pages, and a moment with no agenda.

Enjoy your Saturday!

bouquet of sharpened pencils

It's that wonderful time of the year where textbooks arrive in the mail, the calendar becomes cluttered with test dates and reading schedules, and enjoyable things like blogging begrudgingly take their place in the back row of life. Yes, college has resumed and life hits a new gear. But in all honesty, I cannot dismiss the child-like thrill of looking through new textbooks and course notes, eager to discover the knowledge this semester will offer.

When I was younger, my favorite part of school was the beginning of the semester. Not only was I excited about new classes and books, but Mom and I would always venture to the office supply store to pick out new notebooks, pencils, pens, and other delectable writing materials that I seem to never get enough of.

All this to say, I am going to try my best to continue in my blogging motivation, but if I disappear you'll know why. Professors demand a little more attention than my creative writing, unfortunately. But I'll do my best to stick around.

the greater need

“Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth.” Psalms 73:25

Nothing else on earth should capture my attention or fulfill my desire like Jesus should. My restless soul is a draining oppression that is never satisfied. And if my life is patterned to follow this selfish course, my days are a waste and my heart is still discontent. Life centered on Christ is the path to joy – true, lasting joy – that is not affected by outward circumstances or inward feelings. Joy in Christ is passionate and satisfying.

Instead of praying for desires I think need to be met, I struggle and strive to focus on Him as my one true desire, my Fullness for every emptiness.

My mind goes back to an entry in my journal a few years ago about this same struggle:

As I quietly prayed in my heart this morning, I noticed a repetitive phrase entering my prayers above all else: “Lord, I desire…”

This is not to say that those desires were (are) wrong. Having more patience is a good desire. Strength for a friend is a good desire. A godly future husband is a good desire. But dependence on those desires is unhealthy and unbiblical for my heart. Even in my best attempts to have “focused prayer” on Jesus alone, my mind slowly wanders to the desires I want God to make happen.

I just desire so much...

Each day, my prayers are filled with what I perceive to be my greatest needs. I try to remind God of these needs, but He sees deeper into my heart than I do … and sees the greater need. My greatest needs are not what I think they are. My greatest need is Jesus: to experience Him, to know Him, to feel Him in every day. He is my all in all.

When Jesus becomes my first desire, all the other desires and needs I have fall into their rightful place; cast at the feet of Jesus. He becomes supreme in my heart, which is exactly where He needs to be. Earthy needs and desires dim in the light of His glory and grace. He alone meets my deepest and most desperate needs.

“I have set the Lord continually before me; because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and and my glory rejoices: my flesh will dwell securely.” Psalms 16:8-9

(repost)