musings on marriage and the state of things

"I'm definitely learning a lot about what marriage is not..."

If you've caught up with me in person over the last few weeks, chances are you've heard me finish this sentence any number of ways. And really, I've written about it several times here too. It's been on my mind for a variety of reasons. I stand nose-to-nose with these realities every day. Being married to Stephen Kump still surprises me, especially on the days we don't "feel" married. And so many friends and girls I know have set their sights on marriage, unintentionally demanding that the prospect reach the crevices of their souls with contentment, that life will suddenly spark for real with that one word: Yes!

My heart is moved passionately by each of these things to express over and again how God's plan for marriage is not that it cater to the whims of the female heart--namely mine. But in that train of thought Jesus redirected my focus last night.

What is marriage about, Kate? What am I doing in and through your marriage today? Right now? Because of all this?

Gratitude and refreshment instantly rush in. 

So much for which to give thanks.

A glimpse of our marriage?

Well, we have just passed our second week without talking, but emails seem sweeter and sweeter. 

Five lines of "I love you" and "I miss you" reach much farther now than they did this time last month.

Lots of prayer. What else can you do if you cannot talk?

And what could be more meaningful, really?

Two people, loving each other as best we can. Only enabled by loving Jesus as best we can.

Eyes on the cross, our comfort. The tomb, its empty echo of great hope.

Knowing that as we each seek Christ, if we could not speak one word this year, our proximity to Jesus will make up for all that would be otherwise lost. 

I'm leading two small groups for girls this summer. Wasn't aiming for two, but that's what Jesus arranged. Wasn't aiming for anything at all until Stephen encouraged, exhorted, affirmed.

Excitement builds toward the fall. Days turn into weeks turn into months of progress toward homecoming.

We try to plan our celebrations.

Look forward to family weddings and family babies.

Georgia Tech football finds its way to our calendar...two months ago.

Daydream about where we'll live come November. Hopefully in Smyrna. Definitely not where we are now.

Stephen's ministry to my heart draws me out of legalism, into the freedom of loving Jesus because He set me free, not because together He and I can keep the rules. 

I'm learning not to judge people so harshly. 

Like couples publicly displaying their affection. Or holding hands while singing at church. 

You just never know where people are, where they've been. My natural bent is to think I do know. I do not.

I pinterest my way to wifeyness. Homemade cleaning solutions and crafts galore. Recipes to try and party ideas for his return.

This season will come to an end. But there are sweet things here. Jesus fills. 

Grateful He points Himself out to my ever wandering attention span.

learning how to count

Never, and I do mean never before in my life have I counted days so religiously.

Estimating, praying, counting, re-counting, equating, comparing, fractionalizing, remembering.

I do it every day this year.

How many months to homecoming?

How many weeks?

When will we hit 100 days?

Only half of what has already passed to go!

This time last year we were...

What if this time next year we...

It's less than my birthday to Christmas!

It's less than Armor School was!

And on and on and on it goes...how many ways to measure the remainder of this separation?

Until I grimace in conviction at these words:

"So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom..."

Words followed by:

"Satisfy us in the morning with Your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days."

Thank you, Psalm 90.

In a season when all I want to do is number my days, am I doing it for the right reasons? And shouldn't I number them all year long? All life long?

And doesn't this seem to imply that my numbering system is all inverted? Incorrect? Perhaps grossly so?

I ask: how many days do I need to pass to get to the end of deployment?

But if I honestly wanted Jesus to fulfill me like these portions of His Word promise, wouldn't I be asking how to get the most rejoicing and gladness out of His steadfast love today? Wouldn't I be treasuring, coddling, hugging so tightly every single day I found Him in? 

The Hebrew word meaning "us to number" is manah. It means to count, reckon, number, assign, tell, appoint, prepare, ordain.

Moses is asking to be taught this skill, something he knew we needed to do, something God has allowed us the ability to do. 

Teach us to appoint our days for wisdom--let us be satisfied in You.

Teach us to prepare our days to prepare our hearts--let us rejoice and be glad.

Teach us to ordain, set them apart--for daily renewal of Life.

This word manah, though Hebrew, looks strikingly similar to the English word manna, the name made up for sustenance that God provided to Moses and His people from the sky. This "bread from heaven," man in Hebrew, fed the Israelites for 40 years in the wilderness as they wandered to the promised land, paying out a penance for choosing not to be satisfied with the love of God.

Man means "What is it?"

It also means portion, gift.

Man. Manah.

Portion, gift. Number, assign.

Am I to assign these days as gifts? To reckon them as Your portions? To feast wholeheartedly in this daily bread provision? Knowing there is no guarantee of future days for numbering. Knowing You have promised to give abundance for feasting today. Knowing I cannot carry over to tomorrow what was given for today--knowing anything left un-enjoyed is wasted. 

Teach us to count these days as gifts. To assign them identity as Your portions. 

Oh teach me! This lesson is so far from completion in me...

Five Minute **Sunday**: Perspective

In the busyness of Friday's birthday celebration I found just enough time to glance at the prompt, but lacked enthusiasm or inspiration for writing it out. Today that changed, so here I am. Not sure I can do it justice in only 5 minutes, but here goes.

For whatever reason, several of my friends have recently experienced their first significant separation from their spouses. Ok, if I am going to write in brutal honesty, I'll call it "significant" separation. Because let's face it: a week just isn't a very long period of time. 

But somehow or other these girlfriends end up telling me about it, sometimes dramatically, but never intentionally insensitive. Either way, some days I've just had it.

Want to know what I walk away thinking? 

No, really. Are you sure you want to know?

Because your opinion of me may change in the next few lines.

But here it is.

"Shut the heck up. Why the h*** would you complain about that to me?? Did you miss the memo that I've seen my husband for a total of 10 days over the last 8 MONTHS??? Do you realize I don't even TALK to him every day?? There's no texting and no phone calls, let alone date nights or meals together. FOR A WHOLE FREAKING YEAR!!! So take a second to think about how much harder life could be for you than a week away from your husband before you have the nerve to complain about your situation to an Army wife!!!!!!!"

Yep. There it is. Told you. Pretty nasty. Shameful even. But that is where I've been.

So as I fumed my way across town this evening at the remembrance of these conversations, I asked Jesus why these people couldn't step outside of their circumstances and look at things from my perspective for just a minute. (Because clearly, my head is screwed on straight.)

But He stopped and asked me to do the same thing.

Kate, how often do you step outside yourself to do what you ask of others?

Mini eye roll. Not often enough probably...

Is it an easy exercise for you?

Well, it doesn't come naturally, if that's what you mean.

Then can you give a little grace to others the way I give to you?

Yes. Help me?

Because, you see, life could be so much harder for me. I would say I am on a peak in the mountain-valley terrain of this deployment lately. But even when it downright sucks, things could always be harder. And I'm sure some day they will be. 

For starters, Stephen is deployed. He is not dead.

Our immediate families are in good health.

We have access to email daily and video chatting several times a week.

Our Father has been gracious to reveal parts of His work to us in this season.

We are both employed.

We have the best families, amazing friends, and a tremendous church family to support us.

The list goes on and on.

And really, I am sure that a week-long separation from Stephen will feel miserable at some point. We are all in different places, with different situations, and life is hard for everyone. I cannot think of anyone who has it made perfectly, whose story I would rather have. And I want to have grace for the people around me because only Jesus knows just how much grace has been lavished on me. 

Who am I to withhold it from others? 

And if you happen to read this and think I may be talking about you, please know all is right between us and the fault-bearing is all mine. I apologize for my lack of compassion and welcome your honesty about your life. I need to see the grit and grime of these dark places in my heart, let the Light shine in and clean them out. Thank you for bearing with me in this refinement process.

It is difficult at times, some more so than others. But I'm striving, asking, sinking deeper into the Gospel, I pray, to be a fountain of refreshing grace to the people around me.

Thank you, Father. Give me Your perspective minute by minute by year.

Five Minute Friday: Real.

Aaaaaand we're back! It's been a while (vacation with Stephen threw me off in the best possible way), but I'm back for Five Minutes today. And the word is: REAL.

GO.

Living in what is real is a challenge, one I find myself faced with almost constantly these days.

But it seems that what I am finding is that what is real is simply what really matters. 

Certainly many things clamor for my attention, trivialities, the minutiae of modern life. Or bigger things, like loneliness, frustration, fear.

These things have ruled my heart and mind for the last few weeks. So many hormones and too much idle time. These real-like things spiral me down so quickly, seeming so legitimate.

I want to feel things that are hard and be vulnerable with the people around me. I want to let the difficulty of single-wifing these 365 days grind against my rough edges and soften my heart toward Stephen and Jesus. 

But I also want to keep my eyes on what is real, really of consequence: that suffering was Jesus' ministry and will be mine as well. That the cross was so much worse than I can imagine for the purpose of restoring me to the Creator's image. Suffering not so I can merely relate to Jesus, but so that I may become like Him in His death and share His victory.

So while part of me feels like I'm merely pulling on my big girl panties to get over my raging femininity, I know that never works. What does, what is real, is the hope of Jesus coming to make all these wrong things right, all these dead things new, all the frenzy peace.

Jesus, give me what is real, all that really matters. You.

STOP.

married, but single

Atypical as our first 13 months of marriage have been, marriage is, without a doubt, accomplishing the purpose God intended it to. It is, by His grace, making me more like Jesus.

But how?

Not through the "bonus" purposes I hoped marriage would fulfill. I don't have constant company with Stephen. I don't have physical protection, provision or intimacy with him. I don't get to double date or pursue motherhood.

No, these secondary and tertiary purposes are stripped away this year, leaving the only two purposes that marriage will ever be founded on biblically.* One of refinement and greater dependence on the Good News that because Jesus died on my behalf, I am free to struggle, fail and fall forward toward Him and into His likeness. And the other that marriage must move us to a place where we are better equipped and positioned to advance His kingdom. 

In all honesty, our marriage is accomplishing little if anything else at all apart from these things right now. Stephen and I are highly blessed by and grateful for the technology that enables us to maintain involvement in each others' lives to these ends, and our love surely deepens and strengthens as we seek these God-given purposes together.

But if any other standard or measurement were the rule for worthwhile marriages, ours would be doomed in this year-long separation. We laugh and enjoy our video chats, but our lives are not bliss and happiness. He is extremely competent and faithful in managing our finances and planning for our future, but he's not taking out the trash or planning cutesie dates or driving me all over town. Neither am I doing his laundry or massaging his shoulders or cooking him meals. 

Even less frivolous than these things, we are not able to share every part of our hearts with each other. We cannot talk and process and plan together to our hearts' content. Knowing each other is a more challenging mission to pursue than ever before.

At the risk of mimicking complaint that is not my aim or heart, I will bring these thoughts to a close for now by saying that deployment is tangibly removing the fluff from my expectations and perceptions of marriage. I pray we will have many more seasons of enjoyable togetherness to come, but there is something sweeter forming in the hardship, the difficulty, the separation. Something deep, stable, satisfying. The supremacy of Jesus in and for all seasons.

I am a wife, but that is not my identity.

I am married, but Stephen is not my whole world.

I feel lonely, but I am never alone.

Life and marriage are thriving, not because it is easy and we are happy, but because our Savior is good.

Marriage, as with all of life, is for Jesus. Nothing more and nothing less.

And therein lies all my hope.

Glory to God!

*Not to say that procreation is not a biblical purpose of marriage; I believe it is and should be pursued. But that is a different topic for a different season of life!

halvesies

They say that silence is golden, and mine truly has been so far as blogging is concerned. 

For safety purposes I couldn't really share anything about when Stephen was coming home on R&R leave, and my preparations for his arrival were so extensive and consuming I had nothing else to report. However, he has, since my last post, come and gone, and we had a wonderful 10 days together last month.

Over the course of those 10 days we saw our families at a sweet Atlanta brunch, met the babies of our closest friends, watched movies, got coffee, sat on the banks of the Chattahoochee, spent some time in Blue Ridge, hiked, at Chick-fil-A for every other meal, and rested. It was a much needed time of refreshing and reflecting as we also celebrated our first anniversary on March 26th in the mountains. As hard as it was to say goodbye again, Stephen and I could not have asked for a sweeter, more life-giving time together. 

Anniversary Dinner in Blue Ridge

His visit also marked the approximate halfway point of his deployment. I can almost guarantee that his homecoming will not go as we currently expect, but we are, more or less, halfway through the year! Praise Jesus!

And as Jesus would have it, it seems that this chapter of deployment will be quite different from the first in several ways.

The first of two big ones: my friend Cat's husband returned on Sunday for good!!! I cannot tell you how excited I am for them! He left April 8, 2011 and returned April 8, 2012--one year to the day. I am so glad to know they are together again, and I look forward to getting to know Leigh in the next few months as well.

But I probably don't have to tell you that that will change my relationship with Cat quite a bit. I will miss our single-wifing craft nights and movie nights, but I am extremely eager for the new chapter of our friendship as well--the one where I get to see her with her other half! She has been such a source of encouragement, company, sympathy and fun over the last six months. Who knew this deployment would make me a new best friend at the park?? So grateful for her!

My first time dying Easter eggs the day before Leigh came home.

In the wake of this transition, of sending her back into daily married life, my housing situation has also turned to a new chapter.

In the same week I found out that Lauren Jones accepted a job offer in Charlotte while Lauren Baggett was applying for a summer internship in Atlanta. Gentle grace for me here. 

Saying "goodbye" again was one of the hardest things I have done in a long time, but the aftermath has been the same for each of us: deep gratitude and abiding joy. Thank you so much to everyone who prayed for our time together. Jesus answered so faithfully by drawing us to Himself in order to draw us closer to each other. It could not have been more wonderful.

Surprisingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I look into the next 6 months. I just pray they'll make Jesus famous.

a day in the life...or maybe a week

I feel I am overdue for some day-to-day updates on how things are for us here and there, but I hope to soon write with more structure so as to truly record all that Jesus is doing.

Stephen is well. Unfortunately, for security reasons, I cannot post details about where he is and what he is doing, but if you would like to be added to his email update list please let me know. What I can relay is that he has recently changed jobs, locations and schedules, and we would so appreciate your prayers for all of the transition. He is amazing--so proud of him. And so excited to see what all Jesus will do in these new opportunities as we trust His ways are truly higher than ours.

Time seems to be passing rather quickly right now as the countdown to his leave closes in. I decided this week that I could probably handle having my kitchen countdown ordered chronologically now. Rather than searching for the next week to come down each Sunday, I decided to hang them properly. We are almost halfway there! Praise Jesus!

Juliet continues to fill 45 hours of my week. We have fun at music classes and have recently begun "Mommy & me" gymnastics (I definitely get my work-out in during that hour. We go to at least one library story time each week, we are VIPs at all the nearby playgrounds, and she fills me up daily with tea parties, "tuptapes," and "stittuhs." (That's "cupcakes" and "stickers" for those who do not speak Toddlerese." She's a little bundle of joy and has fully, though unknowingly, risen to the challenge of receiving most of my hugs and all of my kisses while Stephen is gone. Goodness, I love this little girl!

Speaking of the park, I believe I have mentioned before that Juliet and I met another nanny named Cat on one of our outings back in the fall. Cat's husband is almost finished with his year-long contract job in Afghanistan and will be home in no time at all, but she has been one of Jesus' biggest gifts to me in this deployment. We laugh about it almost every time we see each other, that we met at the park, pushing "our" babies in the swings, and have quickly become such good, if not best, friends. Cat lives less than 15 minutes away, which is amazing because we are almost always free to hang out together! Some of our adventures so far include Christmas dinner at the Kumps' followed by Fantasy in Lights, outings with the FRG, cleaning out my closet at my parents' house, and spending 12+ hours crafting spring wreaths for our front doors. Juliet loves loves loves Cat's "Baby Andreas," so we make every attempt to see each other during the day in addition to hanging out 2-4 times a week. What a gift! I love her!

The other wives of the FRG (Family Readiness Group) from Stephen's unit are amazing women, and I am so thankful for their company through this year. We go to dinner, make care packages, eat good food, try new things, go see chick flicks, and share each others' struggles. I always look forward to time with these women, the wives and mothers of the soldiers we sent overseas.

Another huge source of encouragement and accountability has been a new friend named Katie. If you know me at all, you're probably wondering how I've managed to find yet another life-long friend who shares my name, but it's true. Katie Lynn Sims is in our small group along with her husband, Brian, a commercial pilot. She and I share the single-wifing lifestyle approximately 50% of the time when he is on trips, but she checks in with me every night no matter what to makes sure that I made it home and am locked inside. I even gave her my dad's name and number in case she is ever deeply concerned about my whereabouts. Katie, along with Liz, Carrie, Kathryn and Brittany, have been amazing prayer warriors over our lives and marriage. So grateful for new community to share this stage of life with.

One of the childhood songs that has yet to escape me says, "Make new friends, but keep the old.." So with that I am happy to announce the engagement of one of my very best bestie's engagement and upcoming wedding! On Saturday, June 23, Marisa Acree will marry Curtis Shields, and I am delighted to have the privilege of helping them celebrate! I cannot wait to see what Jesus has in store for these two! (And I am selfishly looking forward to distracting myself with all things wedding when Stephen leaves again after R&R--thanks, Ris!)

I have also joined the YMCA (for free, courtesy of the US Military--thank you, fellow tax payers) and am LOVING Zumba classes. I was made to dance! And this week my dear friend Rene also joined, which made it even more fun! 

We received word a few weeks ago that we will be able to continue renting in our current arrangement until the end of October. There had been a lot of drama in that department, but we are so grateful for the compassion that the HOA here has shown us. We owe many of you a heartfelt thank you for your prayers over what could have been a very stressful situation. Jesus has provided once again!

And finally, I am so enjoying having my brother nearby at Kennesaw State University. He began his freshman year in the fall, and I know it was God's provision for me that he would bring Nate so close as Stephen left to go so far. Nate has been an all-star brother all his life, but especially this year. We go on dates, watch movies, he brings friends to eat my food and play my xbox, and he even went swing dancing with me at Georgia Tech one week. He is one of the best sports I know, and he's really pretty good at swing dancing too! Thank you, bud, for loving me well.

As always, thank you for praying. Jesus is loving and full of grace.

remembering is the trigger for gratitude

Ok, Jesus. Here's everything.

Today I am full. Exhausted a little, perhaps, but full.

Overflowing. Overwhelmed, even?

To begin, a book is changing my life. At least this year, but I pray that it sticks. One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. 

Oh that I could sum up the entire book in a sentence to claim for each morning! Gratitude is the expression of my faith in God that brings me to His presence moment by moment, remembering His faithfulness, accepting every minute as His gift of grace, finding joy, blessing others. 

Remembering, what the Israelites and I fail to do so easily. But last week I had the opportunity to remember corporately in our small group what God has done, how He has called, how we have answered. To hear the stories of others, to recount bits of mine, and to ruminate on all that words will never express was humbling and thrilling all at the same time.

How far He has brought me! 

My commute to and from work takes me by a middle school each day. Once each week, sometimes more often, Juliet and I mosey down the street on our way to the park and pass the students outside for lunch time. The girls giggle in circles as they watch the boys throwing rocks at each other. Flashbacks to grade school are frequent and comical.

Playing MASH at midnight with squealing girlfriends. So glad I didn't marry my middle school crush in a peach wedding dress to have five kids living in a shack.

Buying everything with the title Princess on it. Purse. Shirts. Door knockers. Pillows. Antenna balls. (Yes, even when I was old enough to drive.)

Sitting on AIM hoping boys would talk to me. Asking my girl friends to suggest it to them. One word: Nextel.

The sillyness record could go on, I'm sure, but in the midst of all of that, somehow, Jesus was truly grabbing my heart. 

He so clearly called me back to public school after a few years in private and Christian.

He so deeply ingrained a desire to be a wife and mom who stays home with her kids.

He gave me a knack for Spanish that, oddly enough, landed me at Georgia Tech. Of course since then I've realized that, academically speaking, I should have pursued writing at a liberal arts school. His timing, so amusing.

He spoke clearly on Pref Night at Alpha Chi, meeting me in the upstairs hallway and Anna Griffith's (now Bolduc's) words. Here. Seek Me here. Find Me here. Bring Me here.

In the disinterest I wrestled with through half the classes in my major He turned my heart away from so many political jobs that were not His plans.

And as I haggled with corporate America and schools and churches for jobs after graduation, He brought me back to the desire for staying home with my children as well as the opportunity to train for that in a very real way.

He interrupted my mourning old flames with the conflagration of love that He had built in Stephen Kump for me over a handful of years, and He moved clear as crystal to bring us to marriage before deployment began.

He brought us in engagement to a community of God-lovers known as the Village Church in Vinings and has knit me into a core group of women who come around me relentlessly in this season. He also set us near families who are several steps ahead of us to learn from and follow.

He is orchestrating the events of this deployment, both at home and across the ocean, so that His name and renown are maximized. Imperfectly on our end, but gloriously on His. More details of that shortly, but for now...

Wonder. 

Gratitude.

Amazement.

Awe.

Giggling even.

Jesus has done all of that? And my recounting does not even begin with salvation right now.

But if He has done all of this and more, how can I not be delighted to follow Him? How can I not be tickled by His workings now? How can I not praise Him and move joyfully into each new day? 

Remembering. Remembering fosters gratitude. 

Because even if none of these things had happened, memory of the cross and the empty tomb would be more than enough to cultivate adoration and enjoyment in all He has for me now.

Resting here. Because "He who began a good work...will bring it to completion." (Philippians 1:6)

surreal

One-quarter of the way through deployment, and the word that comes to mind? Surreal.

My marriage is surreal.

It is maintained by silent prayers throughout the day, hours, sweet and precious and few, that I behold his face upon this same screen, attempts at reading books and books of the Bible in tandem, and the emails we wake up to that were sent while the other was sleeping.

My struggle is surreal.

Ha! Well, praise the Lord, it is surreal today. Some days (if not most?) it is very real, very raw, very uncontrollable and painful. But today I pause to look at this day and wonder over the fact that it has been so dreaded for more than a year. 

And my community is largely surreal.

Some friends check in more than others, and some people ask how I'm doing while others do not, but I almost always walk away from conversations in awe of the fact that I will never truly communicate the experience well. Unless you have experienced it, you, yes, you reading these words at this moment, have no idea what life is like. And even those of us who have been or are now in the thick of it lead such different lives that our take on things can be altogether opposite at times.

But this is reality: I am married to a man who is not here. Today is the 96th day that my heart has been moving or stationed away from me. I won't bore your with all the meals, holidays and big life events we've celebrated apart, but this is my life. 

And it's weird. 

Some days calling it weird would be cruel and grossly understated, but today it is just bizarre. 

This is my life. And no one else understands exactly what it is like. In fact, it often seems that everyone else is moving along normally and treating me normally while I, in this snow globe called "deployment," am uselessly pantomiming the true state of my heart and life.

And the odd thing is, some days it becomes normal for me. 

Such a growing experience, honestly, in giving grace. I pray my heart is this year softened toward those whose lives feel anything but normal. 

Yet my hope is this, today and always, though feelings shift (sometimes swing): that Christ is near and fully aware, entirely understanding, thoroughly empathetic, perfectly compassionate.

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

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 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

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.