2020

It took 8 hours of being out of bed yesterday before I actually felt awake. I wasn't sleepy exactly; I just felt slow. And no amount of caffeine, fresh air, or daydreaming seemed to help. It took my computer nearly as long to download the movie On The Road , which I thought might motivate me to finish the travel essay I've been working on. Hanging out on Facebook I saw that lots of my friends were also feeling tired and unmotivated, with sinus pain and sticky allergy eyes like mine. So I decided: perhaps some days we just need to give ourselves permission to be slow. And let our friends and our computers have slow days too. And pray that tomorrow we'll feel more up to speed. EMBRACE SLOW . And remember, slow doesn't mean "stuck." Slow just means 'not as fast as I'd planned.'

Yesterday I had the rather startling experience of driving into my one stoplight town, only to discover a second stoplight. Granted it is a temporary stoplight placed randomly in front of the Senior Citizens Center (theoretically because of the construction half a mile down the road), but it's a second stoplight nonetheless. I was not at all excited about the prospect of my town growing large enough to warrant a second stoplight. (It's bad enough that we have a Dollar General.) Because I like the fact that we trust each other enough to stop at those pretty red octagonal signs. I like the fact that we are polite enough to take turns going through intersections. I like the fact that you can cross the street without having to push a button and watch it countdown how many seconds you have until you get hit by a car. I like my one stoplight town. I had another "small town moment" last week when I went to the county courthouse and--get this--walked in without having

I'm a really big fan of Cadbury eggs. Which is why I keep them in my freezer year round. Not enough that I can have them every day obviously. But enough that I can occasionally--once a month perhaps--satisfy my craving for the resurrection season. My nieces and nephew have been contemplating their Halloween costumes all month. "Elf on the Shelf", who hangs out during the month of December in order to tell Santa who has been naughty and who has been nice, is talked about at least through Spring. These seasonal novelties may be all about the commercialization of holidays, but they also have the side effect of eliciting excitement and joy in us--the mood of the season. We feel festive. Alive. We feel connected. Inspired. Why wouldn't we want to feel that all year round? EMBRACE SEASONAL NOVELTIES . Both in and out of season.

While riding my bike one day this week I noticed that no matter which direction I was traveling, I was always straining  against the wind . I started out traveling north, against the wind . "Two miles," I told myself, "and then I can head east." After two miles I headed east,  against   the wind . "Two miles," I told myself, "and then I can go south." Two miles later I made another right turn and traveled south,  against  the wind . "Three miles," I told myself, "and then I'll head west." After three miles I turned to the west,  against  the strongest wind yet . "Two miles," I told myself, "then I'll be close to home and done with this stupid wind." Two miles later I made my last right turn, once again heading north to ride my last mile,  against  the wind . How was it possible that no matter which direction I turned I had to face the wind? Life is like that sometimes. No matter which

On an ordinary day I roll out of bed, enjoy a glass of Spark , do some sun salutations, and head out to run or bike. Yesterday, however, I decided to work for a couple of hours first, and then go for a bike ride. A mile into my ride I was thinking about how hot it already was at 9:30, mentally telling myself that in August it is better to workout before work, when I saw a woman riding toward me on her bicycle. "Isn't this the most beautiful stretch of road," she said happily. I agreed, for her benefit, all the while thinking, "What is she talking about?" Isn't it interesting how we get used to our surroundings and no longer appreciate their beauty, their wonder, their significance. Especially when we've grown up in that place, or have spent many years there. And then someone comes along who isn't as familiar with the landscape, or simply sees it with different eyes, and they awaken us to the beauty that was right in front of our faces all thi

Tysen : "Aunt Katie, do you have sunglasses for us?" Tessa : "Yeah because the sun is hurting our eyes." Never a dull moment with these two. But seriously.  EMBRACE SUNGLASSES . Because the sun really can damage your eyes.

My job can be pretty solitary. And usually I'm okay with that. Typically I accept my (writing/editing/research) assignment, get all the details I need upfront, and then don't check in again until the project is completed. Which could be a week or it could be three months. But this week I've worked very closely with my coworker Ryan. Ryan and I have never met in person but we work together quite well via email. This week he has given me my assignment, I've asked questions, he has answered them, I've turned in my assignment, and he has said thank you. Then he's asked me to redo the assignment (hey, nobody's perfect!), I've asked questions, he's answered questions, I've tried again, and he has said thank you. Then he has sent me a sample of what he was hoping I'd come up with and I've tried yet again and he has said thank you. Then we've established new deadlines, new assignments, I've given him the info I have on the proje

Over the course of the last 8 months I have written 185 blog posts, each time embracing something different. You might think that 8 months and 185 blog posts in to this journey I wouldn't be able to go an hour, let alone a day, without consciously thinking about whether or not I was embracing something and what exactly that something was. But lately I've noticed the opposite is actually true. And I think that is a really good thing. When I first started this journey I was always thinking about what I needed to embrace, and whether embracing that "thing" came naturally to me or if it was something I tended to avoid. I would think about what I embraced yesterday and wonder what I was going to embrace tomorrow. I would focus on the "lesson" I was supposed to learn from every encounter and couldn't wait to sit down at my computer to share it with you. It was exciting to see myself become more open, to take new risks, and to journey deeper with self, fa

You know when my nephew Kasen and I spend one-on-one time together there is going to be an element of randomness. In fact, yesterday we talked about elements. Because what 7 year old doesn't discuss air, water, earth, and fire with his aunt while driving to the orthodontist? But that didn't happen until 20 minutes after I picked him up from school, because for those 20 minutes his mouth was full of the cheese and bacon sandwich I had waiting for him in the car. I don't know how the kid ever discovered that he likes to go to Subway and order white bread, white american cheese, with lots of bacon, salt and pepper, and occasionally pickles, but I love this about him. The orthodontist was pretty uneventful, but Kasen was an angel. A chatty angel, but an angel nonetheless. And who doesn't need rewarded for having someone else's fingers in their mouth? So I got him a Duck Dynasty bandana. Because a random accessory added to the pair of camo shorts he was already wea

At last weekend's Women of Faith conference, Sheila Walsh described 3 types of believers: the cautious believer , who believes in God but doesn't really trust God to be in charge of her life. She wants to know how it's all going to turn out before she agrees to do anything God asks.  the cruisers , who believe in God and allow Him to guide their lives, but only so long as everything feels good. The moment a storm hits, the cruiser is quick to abandon God's plan. the committed believer , who says "wherever Jesus is, that's where I want to be." She'd rather go through bad days with God, than live a single good day without Him. As Sheila was describing these 3 types of believers, I could immediately identify times in my life when I have had each of these types of faith.  I knew I wanted to share these types of faith and my experiences of them at church on Sunday, but I was terrified of being that vulnerable. Of giving specific details of m

Mondays should actually be our best day of the working week. We just came off of our Sabbath day, in which we are supposed to rest. Worship. Enjoy family togetherness. We should be rested and ready to go on Monday mornings. So why aren't we? Maybe it is our attitudes. If we can wake up happy on Friday simply because it is Friday, even though we've been working all week long, surely we can wake up happy on Monday simply because it is Monday. If we choose to. EMBRACE MONDAYS . I challenge you to make today the best day of your week! (And tomorrow too!)

Tysen did not appreciate me in this moment! Ha ha! One of my "bosses" (I doubt she would claim that title but isn't that what you call someone who gives you work and makes sure you get paid for it?) emailed me yesterday afternoon and said:  "We are SO glad you're on the team--not sure how we'd tackle this project without you!!" I had just put in a 40-hour work week in 3 days (for a different "boss") and, even though I loved every minute of it, part of me was wondering if the work was making a difference. If it was worthwhile. Or if working a time zone away from my coworkers was more work for them than help. So her comment came at the perfect time. It absolutely made the entire week's work worthwhile. It was just the encouragement I needed. To know I was valued. Appreciated. And part of the team. We could all probably be better at showing our appreciation. To coworkers and bosses. Family and friends. Loved ones and enemies

Whatever happens today--good or bad--God knew about it a long time ago. Like since the beginning of time long time ago. And He is fully prepared to walk you through it. Dance with you. Cry with you. Laugh with you. Throw things with you. Receive your anger or elation. Your disappointment, acceptance, or denial. He can handle it all. And whatever strength you need to get through this day, He will provide. Because He is there. With you. Always. Even to the ends of the earth. All you have to do is EMBRACE TRUST .

Thoughts by the amazing Craig Groeschel ... Last year on August 8th, my mother had a car accident. Two years ago on August 8th, my mother had a car accident . This year on August 8th, my mother refused to drive. Sometimes it is just better not to take chances. Just in case August 8th really is cursed. EMBRACE SUPERSTITION . Are you afraid of breaking a mirror? Stepping on a crack? Black cats? Walking under ladders? Do you throw salt over your shoulder? What superstitions do you adhere to?

The nights are getting longer. My body rhythm is starting to shift. Slowing down. Feeling more relaxed. Enjoying sleep. And sweat pants. The animals are tuned to the shift of night as well. Nocturnal creatures embrace the coming of fall. The unhurried hours of the hunt. My owl looked just like this  as we tried not to collide! A mile from home. Monday night. A little after 10. I'm driving. In the rain. A ghost sits on the side of the road. I slow. It rises. A barn owl. Wingspan as big as the car. Hovering in front of the windshield. Silently flapping. It seems to be too heavy to fly. I stare in awe. The owl stares back. Before finally disappearing into the night. Meteor showers the last few nights. The night sky a wash of stars. Some falling. Some content to shine bright where they are. Wonder. So much wonder. All held by the night. EMBRACE THE NIGHT .

I have to admit. I'm not a fan of sarcasm. By definition sarcasm means to "speak bitterly." "Taunting, sneering, cutting remarks with intent to harm." "An insincere form of politeness meant to offend." "To tear flesh like dogs." My flesh has definitely been torn by sarcastic comments. Ones aimed at me and even more so ones aimed at the people I love. We claim that sarcasm is in good fun. With no malicious intent. But more often it seems to reveal hidden feelings. Anger. Frustration. Annoyance. Judgment. Bitterness. Regret. Fear. At the Women of Faith conference, however, one of the speakers redeemed sarcasm for me. At least a little. Angie Smith  was a great emcee. Witty, smart, adorable in every way. But when she got up to lead the final teaching session you could see that her heart was heavy. She talked about feeling unworthy. She talked about doubting God. She talked about learning in her 20th week of pregnancy that her dau

Wendy, Christina, Me. Women of Faith! On Friday my longtime friend Christina and my new friend Wendy drove down from Mentor, Ohio (northeast of Cleveland), and met me in Columbus, Ohio, for the Women of Faith conference. Once we navigated parking in the city, bounced on our super comfy hotel beds, and had a delicious dinner at the Three Legged Mare , we entered Nationwide Arena and a spirit of worship with thousands of other women (and a few men!). After singing with the amazing Gateway Worship band (their church is just down the street from my office in Texas!), cracking up with the hilarious comedian Mark Lowry  (famous for writing the song "Mary, did you know?"), and being inspired by 21 year-old Jamie Grace  (listen to her music, seriously!), they gave us a short break before CeCe Winans  (Whitney Houston's spiritual momma) gave Christina and I a flashback to 15 years ago when we first met and were the only two white girls to join the college gospel choir.

Yesterday was the third consecutive morning that I spent with my quadruplet nieces and their big brother while their dad was away on business and their mom was at football two-a-days. I was completely unprepared for the kids to greet me at the door at 6:30 a.m. each day. Aren't kids supposed to "sleep in" over the summer? Each morning we ate breakfast while having a dance party or a wrestling match or both, and watched Team Umizoomi, Caillou, and Cinderella movies. All before 9 a.m. The first two days we followed this up by going outside. Riding bikes. Playing golf. Swinging. Digging in the sandbox. Throwing our shoes over the neighbor's electric fence. Trying to pee in the yard without getting it on our clothes. And attempting to catch wasps. Yesterday I just didn't have the energy for outside. And neither did they. Each time they tried to play, someone would burst into tears. "He said I have to clean up this mess. Waaaa!" "She's

"Do you feel safe at home?" a nurse asked me back in April when I was in the hospital . My sister-in-law and I laughed, because that is what people do in uncomfortable situations. The answer was yes, today I feel safe. But the answer would have been different had it been asked a year before, or at several other points in my adult life. So many things can take away our sense of safety. Robbery. Rape. Fire. Water. Disease. Learning someone is not who you thought they were. Watching the news (the show Rescue 911 gave me horrible nightmares as a kid). Addiction. Losing someone you love. Seven years ago I was living in a townhouse in Fairborn, Ohio, when my neighbor shot and killed his fiance. In front of their three year old son. Just on the other side of my bedroom wall. Even though he immediately went to jail, I was terrified. For months. Until one night I came home and was so tired from my day that after unlocking the front door I failed to remove the keys from the lock

Yesterday was my half birthday. Six months have passed since I turned the big 33 . I'm a big believer in celebrating this milestone. It's not everyday you are halfway between your former age and your next one. So I asked God to bless me big time yesterday. To make me feel loved. Fully. Richly. Extravagantly. After all, love is what birthdays are all about, right? The day started by watching Cinderella III with three of my nieces on my lap, a fourth between my feet, and my nephew within arms reach. Spoiler alert: she ends up with the Prince at the end! Fairy tale love is definitely half birthday worthy. I went to McDonalds for lunch and the guy who took my order told me he liked my short hair. That I had the perfect face for it. And then I got a bag full of the freshest, hottest, best tasting french fries EVER. I love it when God shows me love through the drive thru guy. When I got home there was a little treasure waiting in my mailbox. A message in a bottle. And it sa

Ever since I saw this notice to obliterate my browsing history since the beginning of time, I've really wanted to EMBRACE OBLITERATION . What a great word - obliteration! But what a scary concept. To have that much power. To wipe out something entirely. Not even just doing away with it in the future. But completely eliminating it from the past. From the beginning of time. So it feels like it has to be big things. Not small things like zits or shin splints or Fran Drescher's voice. But big things like cancer, poverty, racism. But somehow even those don't seem big enough. Could there be one thing we could obliterate that would solve all the other problems? Make all the difference in the world, from the beginning of time? The best I can come up with is this: I'd obliterate the feeling of being unloved. Completely wipe it out. So that everyone would know, for all time, and never doubt that they are loved. Unconditionally. Without reservation. An exuberant, child-

I once read that commitment takes away your ability to choose. If you are like me, the thought of not having a choice is not appealing. But consider it like this: Being committed to your job means you don't wake up on Monday morning and ask yourself if you want to go to the office or not. You simply get up and go. Being committed to an exercise program means you don't go to bed thinking, "If I get up early enough I'll go for a run before work." It means setting your alarm and having your shoes ready by the door. Being committed to your marriage removes the word "divorce" from your vocabulary. Being committed to going to church means you don't ask yourself on Sunday morning if you feel like going. You go because the decision to commit has already been made. If you look at it from that perspective, not having a choice is actually pretty liberating. We have enough choices and decisions to make in our daily lives that it can be freeing when t

My niece Tessa recently asked me why I have eyebrows. I love seeing the world through her eyes. She is such a logical child that there has to be a reason for everything, including the "random" hair on a person's forehead. I had no idea why we have eyebrows. Nor have I ever thought to question it. My only real thought about eyebrows has been that I hope I always have them so that I don't have to draw them on someday. "You have them too," I said, running my fingers over her fine brows. This seemed to please her. She is still at that age where looking like Aunt Katie is "magical." But I was still curious. So I googled it. According to How Stuff Works , in addition to adding a great deal of expression to our faces, our eyebrows act like little umbrellas, diverting sweat and rain from running into our eyes. Particularly helpful in the days before baseball caps! I love it when Tessa's questions lead to such interesting revelations. EM

A box without tissue paper is just a box. A bag without tissue paper is just a bag. But tissue paper has the power to transform a simple box, or a simple bag, into a gift. A present. A thing of beauty. Art. Tissue paper is not the gift itself. Nor is it the container of the gift. It is an embellishment really. Serving no "practical" purpose. But oh so important nonetheless. I'm reminded of the importance of beauty this morning as the sun rises and the sky turns purples and pinks. And last night while my nieces and I put hair bows in each others' hair. At the store when I pass a man wearing cologne I am reminded of my grandfather. And daisies remind me of my grandmother's art studio. Nail polish, again serving no "practical" purpose, completely changes the way I look at my hands. Beauty has the ability to make a house a home. Be a reminder or a beginning of a memory. A source of pleasure. A necessary creative outlet. It shows care. And deli

My brother and I signed up for another triathlon. Actually he signed up for two more. I signed up for one. In September. The real question was never "am I going to do another triathlon?" The real question was "am I going to do the mini (shortest) triathlon again, or am I going to take it to the next level?" I signed up for the next level: the sprint. And my brother for the level beyond that: the olympic. The mini includes a 250 yard swim, 7 mile bike ride, and 2 mile run. The sprint a 750 meter swim, 20k bike, and 5k run. And the olympic a 1500 meter swim, 40k bike, and 10k run. I've done the mini. I know I can do the mini. I can even do the mini and not get last place. I'm not saying it was easy. Or that I couldn't improve on my time. Or that I might not get last the next time around. But it doesn't present the same challenge that it did before. Before I knew I could. I want the challenge. I want to push further. I don't wa