Five Minute Friday: Open

Five Minute Friday over at The Gypsy Mama:


GO.

Open.

Open heart.

Open year.

Open hands.

Open ears.

Open spaces.

Open wounds.

Open heart-ache.

Open tomb.

Open floodgates.

Open life.

Open glory.

Open flight.

Openness stirs so many movements in my heart today.

I think of my new, dear friend and so many of us struggling with what comes out of our open hearts as we figure out this thing called deployment.

I think of the year 2012 stretching out before us and all that the closing year has brought. What will You do, Lord, with the year that is now beginning? Do you laugh as we mark so momentously a year that seems as seconds to You?

As I write I'm looking at empty sippy cups left out for drying. When I am open, He fills me up. It may require cleaning out first, but He is faithful.

Overflow my open life, sweet Jesus, with all You are, all You have, all You desire. I could not be emptier on my own. 

STOP.

no good thing

Well, here we are again. You're reading. I'm wrestling. 

And hopefully by the time we finish the Lord will have drastically moved my heart.

I am in desperate need of a heart-shift. Strike that. A heart transplant.

Lord, give me Your heart?

Deployment never ceases to clarify the tension in which we, as pursuers of Christ, are called to live. My current struggle is truly just a variation of some other struggle that I'm sure I've written about before. Ultimately I know what the remedy will be: the Gospel. But first the Lord is calling my heart out of the shadows of obscurity, into a place where diagnosis takes place, into the Light.

The last few days, perhaps for the last week, I have rushed through almost everything. Christmas vacation days could not come fast enough. Then the road trip to Orlando for Christmas could not pass quickly enough. Then emails, phone calls, and video chats with Stephen could not come often enough. The miles home could not be short enough. And now the week drags on as well, despite the fact that it was actually shortened by the holiday. 

Unsettled. Discontent. Absent.

There were a few redeeming moments. I do tend to enjoy the evenings more than the afternoons and always more than the mornings. And time with my family was certainly blessed and refreshing. But overall I have been over-eager to cross days off my big calendar on the wall.

The first twinge of conviction came with the first chapter of Priscilla Shirer's "The Resolution for Women," a sweet Christmas gift from my in-laws. The first resolution is "Surprisingly Satisfied," so it's no wonder that I quickly found piercing lines like this:

"I recognized that by rushing through life, I'd been subtly devaluing those around me and the experiences I was involved in, not appreciating the importance and significance they bring to my life at this very moment, not grasping my responsibility for holding dear and treating well these gifts God has entrusted to me."

or like this:

"Then before you know it, you've missed out on the joys in the journey, the growth that comes from battling through the difficulties, the sweet and savory experience of creating the memories."

and questions like these:

"What have you been hurrying through? What have you been hurrying to get to?"

With these thoughts resonating in my mind through the Christmas weekend, I settled into the 7-hour drive home on Monday with a new book from my best friend, Tashi. It is called One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. The theme of the book? Gratitude. 

Ok, Lord. You want to teach me about contentment, grace, gratitude, joy. Please do! I'm miserable here.

My mind begins to process all the reasons why I should be actively grateful, constant in thanksgiving, cognizant of grace, etc.

But my heart is still so far behind.

Today is more of the same. I think part of the issue is the collision between expectations and reality. At certain times in my life I have lived with such a high view of eternity with Christ that anything here that happened to go well was nice, but not valued as the norm. Comparatively, everything on earth is infinitely unsatisfying. 

Either way, after a longer day of work than I had anticipated, I came home to eat a frozen dinner (if you know me well this is probably the most shocking statement of this entire post). I realized that I had not yet hung up this week's deployment countdown card. The one I took down yesterday is in the shape of a pocket. On the back it reads: "Keep me in your pocket and memorize me! 'The Lord is good, a refuge when trouble comes. He is close to those who trust in him.' Nahum 1:7" I did, in fact, keep it in my pocket today. Thank you, sweet friend, who thought of this.

The card I moved to the current week space is for Week 38, Psalm 84:11. 

"For the Lord God is a sun and shield;

the Lord bestows favor and honor.

No good thing does he withhold

from those who walk uprightly."

I've been living life, viewing life, valuing life, as though I am missing out on something that I deserve to have. The Lord did call me to marriage. This much I know for certain. But He also called my husband to the Army long before our marriage was in the picture. This being true, I am called to the Army as well. 

Do I really believe that the Lord is not withholding any good thing from me right now? 

Do I really grasp deep down, at the gut level, where all my emotions spring from, that God has allowed our separation because it is good?

Do I view it as a terrible thing that the Lord will redeem?

Or do I see it as a beautiful, if heart-wrenching, gift that He has offered to me?

Do I agree with His word that there is nothing good that He has not already given me?

It certainly depends on how I define the word "good." For that I turn to Romans 8:28-29: "For we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose...to be conformed to the image of His Son."

What is truly good is my conformity to the likeness of Jesus. If wrestling through Stephen's deployment is the best tool for that masterpiece that the Lord has at this point in my life, He would actually be unloving if He did not use it now. What is truly good is for me to have Jesus. So if realizing and rejoicing in my desperation for Christ is the aim of this deployment, it is the sweetest gift and highest good the Lord could give.

I realize this could sound maniacal or despotic, but verse 32 of Romans 8 brings it all into proper perspective: "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"

God has not given me His most treasured Son only to deny me of lesser good now. 

Such truth is unbearably difficult to feel at times, but how I long to be in that place!

Can I see it as a gift? Not only deployment, but every other part of life that seems on the surface to be a frustration, a waste, a heartache, a hurdle, an obstacle, a loss?

Can I please have Gospel-eyes to recognize that I lack no. good. thing?

Oh! How I do not want to waste this year! Whether it meets my expectations for productivity or not, I want to savor every good thing the Lord brings in and through it.

My entire being wrestles with this tension. I miss Stephen. Separation is a gift. It is good for me to have a husband. It is best for me to be away from him for a time. 

Lord, let this only whet my appetite for Your return. Let my heart live constantly in the tension between fruitful labor on earth and the deepest desire to be with You.

I may not be in the Garden

But the lie is still the same

That happiness awaits me

Just beyond what You have named

Crafty serpent, sinful heart

Such a deadly combination

Kill, steal and destroy my joy

Restless gripe of aggravation 

Pull me upward now to You

As Jesus' tree of death allows

Serves as reminder of Your heart

You gave all then, You give good now

Give me a heart to live

Out of knowing this is true

So that my heart becomes a blessing

To those around me, first to You

Five Minute Friday: Connected

When I realized that today was Friday, Five Minute Friday, I got so excited! So, straight from The Gypsy Mama, herself: Connected.


Ready? Go!


Connected.

For now, nothing entirely deep comes to mind. Only gratitude.

Gratitude for the internet. Gratitude for video-enabled laptop computers. Gratitude for iPhones and airplanes that carry mail across oceans.

My husband is deployed, but because the Lord has graciously allowed us to experience deployment in this technologically saturated era, I get to see his face nearly every day. I can upload videos of his family and friends sending him greetings on a little device that fits in my pocket. I can spend $13 on a package full of Christmas goodies that will (Lord-willing) reach him any day now.

Though a common love for the Lord and subsequently for each other binds us deeper than any wealth of communication ever could, I am so grateful for the added measure of grace that we have these days. 

And when Stephen and I are not connecting well, and even when we are, I am grateful for a Savior who came to earth, lived what we live, and died an unjust death, so that we might be connected to Him forever.

this day last year...

...Stephen Kump asked me to marry him, and what a sweet year it has been!

If you missed that part of our lives or, more likely, had no idea I blogged at the time, I would love for you to check out my original post about our relationship and Stephen's proposal: i get to marry Stephen Kump? you're kidding.

Grateful for the ways in which the Lord has loved us and grown us over the last year, and I pray that this day next year will come even faster and bearing greater evidence of the Lord's work and glory in our lives.

And another huge "Thank you!" to Mr. Andy Jones for capturing the moment. He's a stud.

Five Minute Friday: Color

In the last several weeks I have mused over a blogging phenomenon called Five Minute Friday that trends on Twitter. Originating at The Gypsy Mama blog, at least one hundred writers spend five minutes on the topic of the day "Let's just write without worrying if it's just right or not." No editing, backtracking or over-thinking.


So, for five minutes I, along with many other bloggers, have reflected on Color today. Check out The Gypsy Mama and join in!

Color.

This morning on my way down to the parking deck, the sky was ablaze. Beautiful pinks, oranges, gold, blue, all set behind the trees whose color was waiting to be illuminated. Glorious.

Naturally the impression it made on an artist's heart lingers still. And the poignancy comes in the fresh truth that hope is alive, mercies are new, and the Lord is faithful.

Just when I feel as though I am heading into another gray day, the Lord paints the sky for those who are early to rise. And that's the beauty of the sun, or any light really. Nothing illuminated today has any color of its own apart from the light. The clouds were just clouds until the sun rose.

In the same way, my heart is just a heart until the Light of heaven dawns and fills it with richness, love and joy. My life is just another life until the brightness of the Son brings warmth and passion.

"A thrill of hope,

The weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!"

writing things out

Rest, You say,

But it's so hard

Too tired to rest for real

I'm up and I'm down

Always "on" never off

Can You tell me which wounds need to heal?

They all feel raw

Open for trouncing 

Stretched thin to the point that they fray

Realize it or not

My heart has to cope

With this grief every minute each day

Get behind every thought

Get behind every tear

To what's really happening inside

It's all just a blur

All pent up within

I could not make sense if I tried

Nobody knows

Though some come close

But no one knows just how I feel

It's not their marriage

It's not their life

Not their separation to deal

And now You whisper

I knew You would

You do when I offer my all

It is Your marriage

Mine is Your life

This is us obeying Your call

I don't like it

I said it

I don't like it one bit

And You know

And it's fine

And you handle my fit

It's my heart

Not fake smiles

That You always pursue

I bring ugly

But honest

And give it to You

And Your voice is so tender

It melts my poor heart

As I've laid all I have at Your feet

You take ugly and honest

And cover with grace

And still Your abundance is wholly replete

You don't work with "ok"

No tools for "I'm fine"

So useless is "I'm good, and you?"

I must see my need

Not just see but admit

So that You can give mercies all new

I'm deficient alone

No clue what to do

I'm really just no good at this

For whatever reason

I trust that You have

There's something You won't let us miss

So we're here

And I'm grateful

You know that's no lie

It's so hard

But still good

Despite buckets I cry

But the point
You keep saying

Is how good I am not

And how

By sharp contrast

You've vanquished my rot

That I'm clueless

And hopeless

When considered alone

But You're holy

Victorious

King on the throne

King in my heart

King of this day

Not King far away and aloof

And what better time

To remember Your love

You came down as a babe to give proof

Free to be me

Because You give You

No longer defined by my plight

The deeper my weakness

The more room for You

To display the great power of Your might

Well, here You go!

Display away!

Weaker I may never have been

Still my heart is Your canvas

I trust Your scarred hands

For Your glory my all. With love, Katie Lynn

"Return, O my soul, to your rest;

for the Lord has dealt bountifully with You."

Psalm 116:7

the creative process

One of my favorite blogs to follow is Take Your Vitamin Z, generally a collection of other good posts to read, funny videos, and book reviews.

Today he posted a video about the creative process. Encouraging and challenging.



Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.

a brief commentary on Twilight

This is at least my third attempt at writing about my bewilderment over the Twilight phenomenon. But really the issue is simple.

The story line of the Twilight Saga is fully opposite the Gospel in every aspect.

Edward is a deceptively beautiful, blood-thirsty vampire who is inexplicably in love with someone good. Jesus is the truly beautiful, Son of God and Creator  who is gloriously loving toward everyone who is bad.

Despite Edward's love for Bella and self-denial, his deepest desire is to drink her blood. Although God is ultimately concerned only for His own glory, that pursuit has brought about salvation for all who believe.

While we would like to see ourselves in the role of Bella, the good girl who attracts and straightens out the bad boy, the Gospel says that we are not at all good. Jesus, in all His goodness, has loved us out of darkness and into light.

Add to all of this the lack of ambition for life, and you have three central characters who are living for nothing more than the Greco-Roman myth of romantic love. They are consumed by their feelings and desire only personal gratification through the realization of a complicated, romantic relationship. No noble pursuits add depth of character. Rather, two men who are living to claim and enjoy the affection of one woman have been glorified by the masses known as members of "Team Edward" and "Team Jacob."

So, there's my post on Twilight. Read it. Watch it. Enjoy it if you enjoy it. It merely fascinates me that a phenomenon with these undertones has so strongly gripped the popular culture. Anything so appealing to the masses deserves a critical eye. Have I given it the most scrupulous? Not quite. But it is what it is.

"the DNA of joy is thankfulness"

Happy Thanksgiving from the Kumps!

Stephen and I both enjoyed the day as much as possible given the circumstances.

My parents, Nate and I went to two Thanksgiving meals:

Lunch with my mom's extended family:

And dinner with the Kumps:

Stephen got to drive (or at least sit on) a local "car" in between his two Thanksgiving meals and a trip to the mall:

We have so much to be grateful for, not only this year for Thanksgiving, but every single day. Topping the charts right now:

--That we are separated for our first year of holidays in marriage. I am grateful to not know what we're missing out on by not being together.

--That our families love each other so much. It is so sweet to have one big family, especially this year. I am sure logistics will get more and more complicated as the years go by, but what a blessing it was to have both our families together for the holiday! It is such an undeserved, unearned, gracious gift of God that our families love us and each other so well. Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, Mom and Dad, for taking such good care of us!

The Lord gave me this prayer a few years ago along with a little melody to keep it lodged in my heart. It was perfect for yesterday, a day of celebration that was mixed with sadness.

Let Your love be enough for me

Show my heart You're my only need

Let Your truth abolish every lie

Let Your love saturate my life

"Contentment celebrates grace. The contented heart is satisfied with the Giver and is therefore freed from craving the next gift." --Paul Tripp

priorities

With only one more month of Autumn left, it seems that time is dragging on quickly. 

On the one hand the first month and a half has not seemed too bad overall. The weeks go quickly so that Sunday is already hours away. Another week comes off the countdown as we look into another week to come.

On the other hand, especially as Stephen has yet to reach his final destination, the thought of doing these seven weeks seven (ish) more times is staggering. But we only have to handle one day at a time, right?

So the question has become, how do I fill those days?

Everyone has lovingly advised me to stay busy while Stephen is gone. Mission accomplished. I have been busy. Very busy. And if you know me well, you know that busy is not my finest suit. I am a home-body, laid-back, down-time-dependent human being (I mean, the apple doesn't fall far...). As an introvert and the daughter of Sally Lawrence, I have neither the mental, emotional or physical stamina required for constant doing. My mind and body literally revolt when I push too hard.

Unfortunately, that is what I have been doing for much of the last seven weeks. For five of them I was battling a sore throat and smoker's cough. Cleaning out the air filter in our condo this past week has helped enormously, but lack of sleep and meals out or on the go have crippled my body's ability to heal.

The issue certainly has not been frivolous activity. I have spent time with so many people I care about, learning about and spreading awareness about issues in our city, loving on my favorite 18-month-old, celebrating a wedding and several new babies, walking with friends and taking college girls to fro you, making new friends and welcoming them into circles of old friends (which may have necessitated my participation in a Twilight marathon), movie nights with Nate and cooking dinner for his roommates, dinner and chick flicks with Lauren and Maggie, writing on various projects and jobs, and occasionally doing laundry or cleaning the floors. Whew. It has been crazy.

And as I have regularly emailed Stephen updates on all that's going on, he sees better than anyone just how hectic my schedule has become. I am grateful for technology that keeps us up to speed on each other's lives, and I am even more grateful for his leadership in helping me see that my current patterns are not sustainable for a productive, healthful year (or life post-deployment for that matter). More than that, he has been quick to point out that this is not who God made me to be. I have some amazing friends who do everything under the sun and do it well. I love seeing the Lord work through them! But at times my appreciation for their ability to do this morphs into a copy-cat complex of some sort and I find myself running the rat-race of comparison. Stephen knows me. He knows me really well, and he has for a long time. If not for that, he would not be able to lead me out of this identity crisis and into real life. I could not be married to anyone else.

You see, while most people at least know that I nanny, many don't realize that it is, in fact, a full-time job. I work 45 hours a week in a salaried child-care position under a contract that allows for sick days and vacation days and prohibits me from smoking in the house or around the child. Granted, circumstances frequently allow me to leave a little early, but for planning purposes, 45 hours of my week are filled every week, no matter what. And honestly, I have to remind myself of these facts frequently; when you enjoy your job as much as I do, it's easy to think it doesn't take up as much of your time as it does. So it isn't a bad thing, but taking care of Juliet is my work and it is the main thing I do in this stage of my life.

In light of this revelation, that her care and development are a focal point of my ministry and not just an opportunity I have because she is my job, I am free to slow down in my "extracurricular" endeavors. For as long as I am called to care for Juliet, I will need to limit myself after work so that I can be my best for her. A tired, sick, run-down "Daydee" is not what either of us needs. 

Realizing that I can only do a few more things well outside of work, I have been praying that the Lord would bring to the forefront His priorities for my time. Much to my surprise, though it does not seem to surprise anyone else, writing is the one thing He keeps bringing up. No particular people to invest in or causes to take up; no new hobbies or personal goals to pursue. Writing. This is it. Other than pursuing a handful of close friends, Juliet and writing are my priorities for the year.

And I am so excited!!

What does this mean? Within the next week I will finish up my first writing "assignment" and pour myself wholeheartedly into writing the last 94 wedding gift thank yous. I have also almost completed a compilation of poetry from the last decade. To publish? Not to publish? Eh, we'll see! And then, Lord willing, I will turn my attention to writing a book for girls younger than me--things I wish I had known before now.

So here I am, at the end of a day that was over-planned, at the end of a week that was over-planned, sitting in my pajamas on the couch doing what I was made to do. I'm grateful for the freedom to do this. 

"Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind." Ecclesiastes 4:6

...mmmmmmm...

proud of this man

Until last year Veterans' Day came and went for me. Thanks for serving. No big deal.

Needless to say, this year it's a huge deal!

So much to be grateful for on this commemorative weekend:
--For the men and women who have given their lives for the preservation of ours.
--For the blessing of marrying one of these selfless men, and not just any of them, Stephen Kump.
--For the good things that have already come from his current deployment: friendships, opportunities, personal growth and growth in our marriage.
--For the advances in technology that have revolutionized the deployment experience.
--For video calling through Gchat in particular which has allowed us to see each other as we've talked almost every day for the last week--FOR FREE!
--For the love of God that made a much bigger sacrifice to, not only preserve life but to recreate what was dead in sin.
--For the opportunity to know Him more deeply, closely, sweetly in times of need.

More to come soon, lots of life going on and so many things the Lord is doing in and through Stephen and me and this special time. But for now I'll leave you with some pictures of my handsome soldier. I am so proud of him...did I mention that?

flood warning

This may be bad.

This may be really, really bad.

But I've warned you now, and that's all I can do.

Today, this sucks. It really does.

I don't even like that term, but I can't work my way around it. "This stinks" just isn't cutting it today. Sorry.

I'm alone. And I'm crying. And I can't stop. 

I cry at the hard things. I cry at the sweet things. I cry because I hate it. And I cry because I would not change it. I cry because I miss Stephen. I cry because he is so worth missing. I cry because I am grateful that I miss him as much as I do. I cry because he feels the same way. I cry because the Lord is near. I cry because He keeps reminding me that I don't have to be good at this. I cry because He alone knows just how bad I am at it. I cry because I know it will get better with time. I cry because the thought of the time it will take is overwhelming. I cry because I feel like I should feel like I'm single again. I cry because that's about the last way I feel. I cry because I wish I knew how to handle social settings or meeting new people well. I cry because I almost dread it some days. 

The trigger.

I guess the trigger was a text from Stephen today saying he had arrived at his overseas destination. Up until now he was training in the same time zone. If you have spent any time with me in the evenings over the last two months, you know that writing is not my typical 9pm activity. I would have been parting ways with you soon to talk to Stephen. But now he has (jet-lag permitting) been sleeping for several hours, and his will not be the last voice I hear tonight. Not live anyway. 

And then I think about the last person I will have talked to today: the cashier at Kroger. And I cry some more.

Some days solitude is a double-edged sword. Today is one of those. I hate being alone and yet cannot imagine interacting with anyone else right now. I feel like I putter around the house, doing a little bit of everything, but not completing anything. Not that I don't have plenty to do. 

If you have yet to receive a wedding gift thank you, rest assured, they are in the works. I have another writing job that I am excited to take on between now and Thanksgiving. I have been compiling all my poetry from the last decade. 

I have enjoyed time with friends this month. My old small group got away to the lake one weekend. 

We threw a baby shower for Darrah yesterday. 

And Juliet keeps me great company. 

Hanging out with my new friend, Cat, who nannies and whose husband is also away for a year, has been a huge highlight in these few weeks. 

It's not boredom. I think I stay busy enough. It's just hard.

As I was thinking through an upcoming church social earlier this evening, I came to realize why I feel so out of place all of a sudden, especially at church. It has nothing to do with other people, though perhaps their love for both of us brings the emotions to the surface. It has more to do with the fact that Stephen is indeed my other half. And as cheesy as it sounds (I really tried not to say it, but it's true!), we are one person in two places. One heart, one flesh, one family. Two continents that might as well be two worlds. 

And it's seeing the people who know us well that really undoes me. Because I know they look at me and see Stephen too. They can't look at me and not think about the reason he's not beside me or how long it will be until he is again. And whether they say something or not, I feel exposed and vulnerable and overwhelmed in all the ways I should, I suppose. And I am grateful the Lord has given me a heart that cannot hide, although I'll apologize again for all the times each of you will get a bucket full of tears because of it.

And it's funny how real it finally seems that we are one. Sad that it often does not feel as true in togetherness as it does in separation. But we both are praying that the things we learn this year will change how we view and value each other, our future family, and every other priority in our lives. It's almost a glimpse of the "if only"s we might have if one of us were to pass, so I'll be grateful that our opportunities to love each other well are, Lord willing, still a lifetime full.

Whew. So, the tears have stopped. I think that's all for tonight. Maybe my poor sinuses will have a chance to clear up before lights out.

One thing I heard in a short John Piper montage on YouTube last week has stuck with me. I won't get the quote exactly right, but as he is talking about the certainty of suffering in the Christian life he makes the distinction between what is miserable and what is painful. And though at times I am tempted to file this experience under Misery, I know that would not be true. It's painful. Ugh, it's frustratingly painful some days. And I feel like it would not be so bad if I just loved Jesus a little more, and that way of thinking serves only to perpetuate frustration.

But the pain is not misery because of the cross of Christ. Suffering is the primary way God's glory of salvation is revealed in the world--Jesus on the cross and my hope in suffering now. This is not futile misery; it is glory-rending pain.

And I pray the Lord gets enormous glory from it. No matter how much it hurts. No matter how many days ahead will feel like this one. No matter how many showers, meals, car rides, communions, or blog posts I have yet to cry through.

When all my tears have fallen

And my strength lies in their wet

When my heart is naught but frailty

Jesus, let me not forget!

Not only did Your tears fall

But Your sweat became as blood

As You gazed on separation

Cost of mercy's welling flood

But as Your tears led to glory

Please allow mine so to do

For every teardrop let one-thousand

"Hallelujah"s rise to You

And so it will all be worth it

Every mite of this sweet pain

If Your glory shines the brighter

Beauty bursting through the rain

learning how to deal

For several months now I've been praying about how to "suffer" well throughout the year, and I have felt like "suffering" was an extreme word until this morning. As I was reading through a chapter in one of Tim Keller's most recent books, the Lord began to shed light on the balance I have been wrestling with. I want to embrace the sadness/frustration/pain of separation as the current reality that they are, but I want my hope to be set so fully on Christ that it is not the overarching theme of my life. It seems to be a tension between being real and giving church answers, facing difficulty and being ok with it, living for eternity and ignoring the present altogether.

I would like to quote several portions of this chapter entitled "The Cup" from King's Cross. Keller is explaining the agony of what Jesus felt the night before He died as He asked the Father to remove the cup of wrath from Him. Jesus has just experienced the first taste of the anguish our redemption will cost him, and Keller explains His agony in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Suffering happens, we might say, when there's a gap between the desires of your heart and the circumstances of your life, and the bigger the gap, the greater the suffering. 

Often what seem to be our deepest desires are really just our loudest desires. 

Yet not what I will, but what you will.Jesus is subordinating his loudest desires to his deepest desires by putting them in the Father's hands. As if to say, "If the circumstances of life do not satisfy the present desires of my heart, I'm not going to suppress those desires, but I'm not going to surrender to them, either. I know that they will only be satisfied, eventually, in the Father. I will trust and obey him, put myself in his hands, and go forward." 

Jesus doesn't deny his emotions, and he doesn't avoid the suffering. He loves into the suffering. In the midst of his suffering, he obeys for the love of the Father--and for the love of us.And when you see that, instead of perpetually denying your desires or changing your circumstances, you'll be able to trust the Father in your suffering. You will be able to trust that because Jesus took the cup, your deepest desires and your actual circumstances are going to keep converging until they unite forever on the day of the eternal feast. 

That love--whose obedience is wide and long high and deep enough to dissolve a mountain of rightful wrath--is the love you've been looking for all your life. No family love, no friend love, no mother love, no spousal love, no romantic love--nothing could possibly satisfy you like that. All those other kinds of loves will let you down; this one never will.

Praying to remember, reflect on, and digest this love as much as possible in the days, weeks, months to come. Grateful for the reminder and the revelation. I would highly recommend King's Cross, or any other by Tim Keller.

single ladies, this is what you're looking for

Last Monday night as Lauren and I were sitting down to our first roommate dinner, a knock sounded at the door. Upon first glancing out the peep-hole I thought my brother and his roommates had come to visit. Four younger males--who else could it be?

To my surprise and great blessing, I actually found Michael James, Jeff Cheung, Harris Hosch and Tyler Eason outside my door. These four guys, along with a handful of others, were part of a discipleship group (d-group) that Stephen led from January to July of this year. Each of them is a student at Georgia Tech and a fraternity brother of Stephen's, and I have had a blast getting to know them over the course of the year.

These precious men did not come empty handed. Rather, they brought me a massive plate piled high with six dozen ish cookies and hand-written Scripture cards to go along with the dining room countdown theme. Tyler even wrote a letter.

They did not stay long, but in the few minutes they did they repeatedly voiced their gratitude, love and willingness to serve me at any time in the coming year. Needless to say, my heart was overwhelmed by gratitude for their thoughtfulness. 

Two take-aways from this:

1. Ladies, look for men like these who are on the look-out for ways to care for women, even married women, in selfless ways. These are men who will truly know how to deeply love just one woman for the rest of their lives.

And 2. I am so grateful for Stephen and for his legacy that blesses me in his absence. The Lord uses him in unending ways to bring me back to the throne of grace in praise and gratitude.

The Lord continues to make it evident that He intends to answer my prayers and then some. A few months ago, as I began to realize that this year is an infinitely bigger deal for me and Stephen than for anyone else (although our parents certainly come close and are always thinking and praying), I asked the Lord that He would always remind just one person about me. As much as my heart sometimes feels like it needs everyone to think about me all the time, I just prayed that at least one person would be remembering at any given time. Guess He thought that was asking too small.

Thank you, d-group guys men, for caring for me. We love y'all too. It has been such an undeserved privilege to serve you this year.

And thank you to each of you who are reading. You have no idea how much the Lord blesses your comments, your texts, your calls and your simple prayers. He is using you to go above and beyond what I ask or imagine.

Grateful to report that another week has passed. More updates soon on what is keeping me busy, but for now the scripture from Week 51, Psalms 16:1-4a:

"Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge. 

I say to the Lord, 'You are my Lord; 

I have no good apart from you.'

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,

in whom is all my delight.

The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply."

"Stut!"

Impatiently squirming to get out of her high chair, Juliet moans: "Stut!"

Reaching for the ground because she is finished swinging: "Stut!"

Unhappy about time-out in my lap after standing up on the couch: "Stut!"

My reply, "You're not stuck, baby."

Funny how perspective changes everything. 

As Juliet's vocabulary has grown, she has learned this word associated with limited movement in a place she does not want to be. We are still anxiously waiting for her little mouth to pronounce the "-ck" sound, but her version of this word is substituted multiple times a day.

It first struck a chord in me one day as she wiggled around in her high chair. I always try to explain to her what her reality truly is. "No, sweet girl, you're not stuck. You're in your chair where it's safe and you're able to eat. Katie will get you down."

Funny how these safe and perfectly positioned places seem to her to be nothing more than a frustrating trap in certain moments of strife. Though the high chair is the easiest, simplest place for her to eat, and though the swing is the safest, most fun carrier for such a playground activity, and though sitting still in my lap is the best thing for her character and personal development after a bout of rebellion, they are often to her an annoyance, a stressor, and a position to be fought and escaped from with every ounce of energy in her baby girl body.

I recently can relate to her.

Every part of me is fighting in some way against the position, the discipline and the goodness of the Lord in this season of life. I see parts of what He is doing, and I want Him to have His way, but my soul has been restless, squirmy and "stut" in a place I do not want to be.

Same as Juliet, I would love to wriggle loose and be on my own at times, or at least I think I do. But what I cannot see is His perspective on where He has positioned me. Uncomfortable as it may be, and although I would likely not choose it on my own, He has situated, elevated, constrained and prepared me for something much better than what I can see. And to fidget away from the strong arms of my Father would mean falling, regressing, missing out on all He has in store for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

Maybe Juliet and I can learn this lesson together.

Week 52

Last Sunday I got to take down Week 52 from the kitchen countdown. The scripture written on it made for a time of prayer and reflection as I got ready to face another week.

Psalm 126:5-6 says:

"Those who sow in tears

shall reap with shouts of joy!

He who goes out weeping,

bearing the seed for sowing,

shall come home with shouts of joy,

bringing his sheaves with him."

Such a passage could not have possibly been more fitting for Sunday evening. Sundays are hard. Period.

Church without Stephen is hard.

Sabbath rest without Stephen is hard.

Staring down another week without Stephen is hard.

Crying in public is hard.

Sundays are just hard.

So when I read about tears and weeping I immediately connected. Ok, Lord. I've got the tears and weeping part down. No problem.

But I realized that the focus of these verses needed to be that the tears and weeping were not primary actions here. They are descriptors of the manner in which something else is done: sowing and bearing the seed.

What do You want me to sow? What seed have You given me to bear? What harvest are You plowing and sowing for?

Praying for direction, purpose and drive as I cry these tears for sowing over the next 51 weeks. Praying I go out intentionally. Praying the Lord brings a harvest of fruit one hundred fold of every tear I cry--that would be a truck load of fruit. And because I can imagine it, I know He will do even more.

in great company

The end of Week 52 is inching closer. I have decided to countdown from 52 to 1 so I'll always know how much time is left. Grateful it will get smaller and smaller as the weeks go on!

To celebrate the passing of the weeks and Lauren's official settledness into life at the condo, we had a girls' night on Monday night, complete with cookies, candy, crafts and chick flicks. A very big THANK YOU to Julie Koon, Emily Schultz, Kimberly Johnson, Rene Schultz and Maggie Younker for helping to make a countdown calendar for the dining room window. We spent several hours crafting little cards to display, one to be removed for each week that Stephen is gone. Each unique card has a scripture reference on it, and I look forward to how the Lord has provided Truth for each of the weeks to come. The evening was a huge success and one more evidence of the fact that I have been given the greatest friends in the world. Thank you all so much!

Yesterday Juliet and I scooted down to Smyrna for a play date with Connor (3) and Lucy (13 months). Their dad is also deployed and their mom, Amanda, has been an incredible encouragement to me over the two short months that I have known her. We had a blast playing with their toys, walking in their neighborhood, rolling down the couch cushions and playing piano! It is so neat to watch great parents love and instruct their children, and I certainly had a front-row seat yesterday. I look forward to loving on and learning from this precious family in the months ahead! Praising the Lord for godly community to live this stage of life with.

And today I am praising Him for another new friend. I met Cat, a German nanny in the area, at the park last week, and Juliet and her charge enjoyed swinging together again today. As we talked about one day wanting children of our own, I told her the itch is not quite full-grown in me because Stephen is gone. Of course she said, "Then we are in the same boat!" Her husband deployed in April and will be gone until April 2012. She is new to Atlanta and lives about ten minutes from us. Her husband came home on R&R in September for their big wedding, and her mom is still in town from Germany for that reason. However, she said now that the wedding planning is over and when her mom leaves, she is nervous that she will have nothing to do as she does not have any friends here. We exchanged numbers and plan to be in touch after her mom goes back to Germany next week. I am so excited to spend time with Cat and hopefully introduce her to some of my friends. Please pray with me that this will become a meaningful relationship and one the Lord uses to draw each of us to Himself!

And, for the first time, having an almost-German last name was another good conversation starter. Who knew that "kumpf" means "fight," as in Hitler's MEIN KAMPF? Fantastic! I have never been more glad that someone, somewhere along the way, dropped that "f"!

The Lord has given me so many opportunities to share this experience with people who love Him and love me, and I could not be more grateful for that. Thank you all for reading this far and for keeping up with me. Please know that I look forward to the Lord's glory and use of this deployment to strengthen my heart and those of the people around me. As such, I know there will be days when some of you will ask how Stephen or I am doing and I will burst into tears and drench you with honesty. I apologize in advance if that will make you uncomfortable, but please know I would prefer that to shallow conversation any day of the week. I think that will be more of a rare occurrence than the norm, but I would rather be real and let the real strength of Christ be displayed than pretend I am fine. So unless you would just rather avoid the small threat of water works, I welcome deep questions and meaningful conversation. Glory to God!

And oh yeah! Stephen is doing well! He and the guys are thoroughly enjoying the goodies his mom packed on Sunday. The only disappointing news is that he is sleeping in barracks with about 20 other guys. Fortunately he has ear plugs, but he says sleep would be impossible without them for the absurd volume created by almost two dozen men snoring in unison. Please continue to pray for his relationships and for the Lord's direction as he moves toward his mission. 

the big day

Today was the big day, and I feel there is at once so much to say and yet no words for all that I am thinking and feeling. The Lord blessed it on so many levels on the homefront, and I can only pray He does the same for Stephen as he is away. After the send-off ceremony and the departure of the buses, my family and Stephen's parents took me to brunch at the Cheesecake Factory where Marisa Acree and Katie Phillips joined by surprise. I had the privilege of spending the remainder of the day with them and Kimberly Johnson in a very successful attempt to postpone my own solo homecoming. 

Just a few of the random things going on in my mind:

Grateful that the day I have dreaded for nearly six months is over.

Grateful to start the countdown to next October.

Grateful for all your prayers and encouragement.

Praying for Stephen who has truly been led out into solitude with the Lord.

And while I wish I had more meaningful words or insights of my own, the Lord's grace overwhelms me at every turn. I had previously purposed to read through the "Streams in the Desert" devotional over the year that Stephen is away and was reminded of it by a conversation with our moms this morning. Unfortunately I cannot take any credit for the poem that accompanied today's short reading, but I'll be darned if God does not somehow bless these sorts of books so that October 2nd was exactly what I needed it to be. I think He must shuffle them around among the pages so that the right one pops up whenever I open it. So of course as I climbed into bed alone tonight, He met me here:

Come with me by yourselves and rest awhile,

I know you're weary of the stress and throng, 

Wipe from your brow the sweat and dust of toil,

And in My quiet strength again be strong.

Come now aside from all the world holds dear,

For fellowship the world has never known,

Alone with Me, and with My Father here,

With Me and with My Father, not alone. 

Come, tell Me all that you have said and done,

Your victories and failures, hopes and fears.

I know how hardened hearts are wooed and won; 

My choicest wreaths are always wet with tears.

Come now and rest; the journey is too great,

And you will faint beside the way and sink;

The bread of life is here for you to eat,

And here for you the wine of love to drink.

Then from fellowship with your Lord return,

And work till daylight softens into even:

Those brief hours are not lost in which you learn

More of your Master and His rest in Heaven.

Happy Half-iversary!

Today marks the halfway mark on our first year of marriage, and because I am looking for anything and everything to celebrate these days, I thought I'd post a few pictures for kicks and giggles. Many of you have been tracking with us for as long as these pictures have been around (some much longer), but in case you missed it, here we are:

Our first picture together, and possibly our longest conversations up to that point: Theta Xi Broomball, December  2005

One year later at AXO's Crush Party.

Our first kiss six months ago.

Our first Tech game as The Kumps this past Saturday.

Praising the Lord for 6 months of sweet time together and grace in the growing!

just the cover page

It started with a tree in a Garden

And the man you first made there to toil

Adam was his name

Procreation was his aim

As he broke and conquered all Your handmade soil

But Adam failed and ate the tree You said to not

He ate the lie and turned his back on Love

Sin broke the life and joy

Death's sneaky, wicked ploy

And Tree of Life no more could he lay hold of

So Your first plan was postponed indefinitely

As restitution was required to move forward

Necessary better Adam

Your Son would humbly come

The One all Heaven worshiped and adored

And where first Adam should have died on evil tree

For his choice to be the ruler of his life

Perfect Jesus now would die

Both in Adam's place and mine

As the cross became His tree of death and strife

Now because He rose again and rose to You

He will come one day to fulfill Your greater plan

Because a Garden was not all

You have a city strong and tall

Built 'round the Tree of Life where life began

Where first Adam chose death but did not die

Second Adam obeyed even to the cross

Though Adam's task met with defeat

Jesus' victory will complete

His blood the fire that purges all sin's dross

And it's not until we reach that final city

That all You have in store will be unveiled

This life is just the cover page

For greater glories come each new age

Sun not needed as Your beauty is detailed

The Martins: DIY Laundry Detergent

A few weeks ago I made my first ever batch of Do-It-Yourself Laundry Detergent. I have really enjoyed it and want to pass it along, but I took it from my friend Megan Martin's blog so you should check it out there. She did such a great job with taking pictures and figuring up the savings that I didn't feel the need to re-do all her great work. :)

The Martins: DIY Laundry Detergent: It's official.. I have finally jumped on the bandwagon for making my own laundry detergent. I was so skeptical at first, but after doing it...

fear and hope

For the last two months almost I have been reading through Peter's first letter over and over again. Some days I read the entire letter, other days I read a few verses, and though I have enjoyed it and feasted on it all along, the Lord in recent weeks has been highlighting phrases that capture my thoughts and nestle into my soul.

At the end of Peter's address to wives he instructs them, "do not fear anything that is frightening." (3:6)

"Do not fear anything that is frightening."

So he is saying that there are things that are frightening. Rational, legitimate circumstances, individuals and powers that are rightly terrifying. It may seem redundant at first to tell someone not to be scared of things that are scary. Who would be afraid of something that is not? Right? But Peter is gentle enough to affirm that these women may have justifiable fears. It is one thing to say, "Do not fear because there is nothing to fear." Such a statement sounds demeaning, belittling. Almost as if to say, "You don't really get it; if you knew what I know you would understand that this is not really frightening."

Instead, he confirms the reality of dreadful things while requiring that they not be given power.

Dwelling on this phrase probed my heart for hidden fears. Some are big, some are small, and some are stupid, but here they are:

Fear of Stephen not coming home.
Fear of annoying or alienating him or others.
Fear of all our electronics breaking while he is gone.
Fear of being alone and unknown.
Fear of physical harm by random, evil men.

As I looked at my list the first time I realized how much I have given in to fear lately. The Lord graciously backed me up a few verses from the current instruction to not fear. What an overwhelming task to simply stopping being fearful of all these things I cannot control. But this command is at the end of a more saturated paragraph than just a suggestion to muster up unfearfulness.

In describing how Christian women are to befit themselves, Peter says, "let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious. For this is how the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves, by submitting to their own husbands, as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord. And you are her children, if you do good and do not fear anything that is frightening."

Now, there are so many little bits of this passage that I could pick apart and turn into a list of rules and regulations, but I am so deeply convicted by just one key phrase: "the holy women who hoped in God."

You see, in order to fear something, and I mean really fear it, I must value it at a premium, considering that its loss would fundamentally challenge or change who I am or my life's purpose and trajectory. Whatever I fear is a reflection of the desires of my heart and its true allegiance. Whatever I most fear losing is what I am hoping for above all else.

When I reexamine my list of fears, it is easy to see what my heart is hungering for most: Stephen, the approval of people, safety and ease.

Not to say these desires are all bad; they are not. But they are far too transient and uncontrollable to hope for. Would you not agree?

Which is why the descriptor hoped in God is so relevant, so poignant and so true. These women were not perfect by any measurement, but they were sold on the faithfulness and promise of their God, and the overflow of their hope in Him painted everything in their lives with glory. Peter touches on two other specific areas of life that are revolutionized by hope in Christ before he addresses fear.

He first points to the heart, the spirit within, the source from which all of life flows. Jen Smidt at The Resurgence expounded on "a gentle and quiet spirit" the other day. I found it both helpful and challenging:

Gentle does not mean mousy or weak. It does mean strength derived from and under the control of the Holy Spirit. The default response of our hearts is often harshness. It feels powerful and usually gets the job done. Children and husbands alike can be effectively and sinfully shut down by a harsh word or glance. A gentle woman will trust her Father’s provision, identify with the righteousness of Christ, and be filled with the Holy Spirit to such a degree that she will be known for her strength that shines brightly for God’s glory alone.

Quiet does not mean silent or without opinion. It does mean without noise. Quietness in our hearts is drowned out by the cacophony of voices of fear, worry, anger, and doubt. Difficult circumstances or trials turn up the volume and we succumb to the chaos. We lose the voice of Jesus in the midst of the cacophony. Peace prevails and rest ensues when we are quieted before our Savior and listen for his voice alone. Out of that quietness, the words of our mouths will be fitting, life-giving, and pleasing to God.

(Read the rest of her article here.)

The second arena is a woman's heart for her husband, an often debated stature for sure. Peter explains that the inner spirit of these God-hopeful women led them to submit to their husbands. Much could be said about how this directive is to be worked out in the practical aspects of marriage, but I believe that the woman whose hope is in God is willing and obedient in submitting to her husband because she trusts wholly in the provision of her heavenly Groom, Jesus. A heart of gratitude and submission to Christ reveals itself through humbly offering respect and deference to the other human heart it has been called to follow. This heart has relinquished the idols of control, always-being-right-ness and manipulation in exchange for the role of supporter, encourager and friend. I may not always be in the background and shadow of Stephen's public life, and I rarely feel that I am, but I pray I am always willing to be. I pray my heart toward him is soft and selfless in light of the Gospel.

Part of my submission to Stephen is this calling to the Army way of life. I have been called to be Stephen's wife, and as such I am also called to the military. If I am honest, I must admit I fight the calling regularly. Overall, I feel that I have settled with deployment, knowing that this is what God wants for us. But I want to nit-pick the inner workings of this organization and rehearse in my mind its inefficiencies far too often to honestly claim full submission. I pray I will relinquish my grip on the comfort and ease it disturbs so that my heart may engage in the greater mission of reaching this lost part of the world.

Having dealt already with fear, my attention is turned back to hope.

The Greek word used here is elpizō meaning "to wait for salvation with joy and full confidence."

I pray I will be a holy woman who "waits for salvation with joy and full confidence" in God alone, a daughter of Sarah. Sarah, who frequently doubted and "improved" upon God's plan, is remembered as a holy woman for her expectation that God would do what He said He would do.

My God has obtained, offered and promised the newness of all of life by the giving, slaying and rising of His Son. What more could be offered as the foundation for all of my hope? The answer is nothing, and I pray my heart always answers correctly.