"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.