Travel, Writing

Elevate Update #1

IMG_2312Hey friends!

Since first posting my support letter on March 23rd, I’ve raised more donations and bought my plane ticket, making everything so much more real. Including my own investment into this project, I have now raised $627.64 out of $3,500 for my trip. Elevate still seems far away, but ALL funds are due April 21st. I still have $2,872.36 until I am fully funded.

I’m scared to death.

Without successful fundraising, I might find myself in the position where I will have to choose to pay out of my own pocket, or forfeit the trip. I’m begging Jesus that I will not have to make that decision.

When looking at the numbers and payment deadlines, it’s very easy for me to forget the power of prayer amidst all of this. I definitely underestimate it.

All of this is a faith journey. I’m leaning into God trusting that if this is his plan for my summer-and I strongly believe it is-then I can trust him to provide the means for me to get there. I strongly desire that anyone reading this, and has questions about Elevate and/or Resonate would not hesitate at all to ask questions, and most definitely ask God how they should support me in all of this.

This week these two life verses have become my lifeline:

“Blessed is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her” Luke 1:45

“You can make many plans, but the Lord’s purpose will prevail” Proverbs 19:21

 

Prayer Requests

-My interview on  Tuesday, April 5th with the YMCA would go smoothly

-My faith in God’s provision would be more overwhelming than my fear of not support raising all of my funds

This might be helpful:

More about Elevate http://resonate.net/elevate2016#give-1 (the link says give, but there is more information about the project if you scroll up and down!)

 

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charley

New Beginnings

Gallery
Travel, Writing

Montana Meanderings

I’m typing this blog post from a lovely little loft bedroom in my grandma and grandpa’s house in Chinook, Montana. It’s the type of room I’d imagine Charles Dickens, Herman Melville, or Ernest Hemingway wrote their novels from. However, I suspect my room is much  more comfortable, cute and neatly organized than any habitat those drunkards wrote in.

I haven’t visited Montana in close to six years. Since then they’ve moved from the forests and mountains of Libby to the prairie land that is Chinook.

The only sounds that I’ve heard this evening from my work space have been nothing more than the sound of wheels and horns from nearby train tracks and a couple of dogs yipping  and yapping at each other from across the neighborhood. But for the most part, my stay has been beautifully quiet and still. Simple.

Today I proofread a newspaper article.I hadn’t edited another person’s work  in months. It was a beautiful thing to return to my element. My grandpa didn’t appreciate me marking up his completed article in red pen. Heck, at the last minute I almost packed my brand spanking new Associated Press Stylebook. But I didn’t. Only because I had too many other notebooks, binders and reading material to strategically pack in my one suitcase.

I’ve read more books these past six months than I have in two or three years. In one train ride I finished Franny and Zooey and over half of Catcher in the Rye, each by J.D. Salinger. I’m certainly not short on reading material. Nonetheless, I cannot figure out what to read next.

I shadowed my grandpa and followed him to his job at the Blaine County Journal ~News Opinon weekly newspaper, the grocery store, bank, library, and credit union. Did I mention we were able to walk to all of these locations? And it nearly reached seventy degrees? It reminded me of Pullman, minus the hills.

After these important errands we searched around hunting for postcards. I’m a cheesy tourist and couldn’t refrain.

I’m still writing, in case you were wondering. I’ve been working on a lot of personal  projects all of which include writing of some sort. I won’t go into much detail but this includes learning more about writing from a handful of my favorite authors and applying those lessons. For more hints you can see my Instagram profile. I have been doing my best to make the most of this short blip in time where I am taking a semester off from school.

One project that is not secret at all has been my Indiegogo fundraiser campaign I started for my service dog Charley—who’s litter has not been chosen or likely born yet. Boy has that been an experience. Hardly halfway through my campaign and already over thirty percent of my funds have been raised.  A couple of others include two different news outlets, two dreadful sociology papers and my church back in Pullman!

Three. The number of times some dear soul has paid me to write. Beginning and ending my job at the newspaper was awful. Not long after my first front page article was published in The Daily Evergreen I had to abruptly leave. I had to abandon many people and classes and activities I love. I know soon I’ll be back. I’m not concerned about returning. I’m anxious about being uprooted again.

Not knowing is an awful feeling. Not knowing when or where my health could suddenly take a downward spiral. More than a feeling this has been a journey of trust. On more occasions than I can count I’ve asked God “why me and why now?” I realize I placed so much faith and hope that moving out and being independent. November was terribly disappointing.

All of that mess was redeemed. And through people and events that only God could orchestrate. You and I will consistently fall for the the lie that good things cannot come through difficult circumstances. But God breaks our fall. He doesn’t leave us abandoned. He intervenes. I say this now, after he’s picked me up. I offered no pleasant words to God or anyone in the midst of my mess.  It’s OK to not be OK.

Much love,

Kayla

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Writing

All Things Considered

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Today I cried. It was the first time I had cried in a long time. At least from what I can remember and I haven’t been remembering too well lately. Short-term memory loss tends to make life difficult in that way. Anyhow, I cried and it felt really, really great. I cried first with my sister and then with my mom.

Moseying around our room at home today,  my sister asked me “are you OK?” I responded with “yeah, sorta, well actually no.” Cue tears. And she said that’s OK. Nothing is wrong with not having it all together. No one is asking or expecting you to be totally with it. I had a similar conversation with my mom. I am so thankful for these women in my life.

After coming home from spending two weeks in the hospital in Seattle, I wasn’t sure the kinds of emotions I would experience, but after one week in I’ve mostly felt overwhelmed. After being home for one week, there is still so much to process. That is to be expected.

Two weeks ago, I had a seizure that caused me to become unconscious. After not being able to communicate with me, my parents started reaching out to my school friends via Facebook. Finally, after sending my friend Andrew directly to my dorm room finding that I did not respond to his knocks, the police were called and the door to my room was broken down.

Before being flown to Seattle Children’s Hospital from Washington State University, where I had been enjoying my first semester.  I spent a short time in the ICU at Pullman Regional Hospital.

Things were bleak. I am no doctor, but I’m pretty confident that a lot of people were unsure of if or when I would wake up, and if so, what damage would follow?

Waking up, while clearly a great step towards recovery was nonetheless very confusing. I didn’t know where I was, who my parents were, or even what had happened.

In all of the confusion, there has also been  a lot of clarity. I’ve had to rely and trust entirely on Jesus and my doctors. Jesus has shown me that my priorities are out of place and I also need to take it easier on myself. His presence has been so imminent. One of the workers in the hospital told me “I am so glad you have your faith!” I am too. I cannot even begin to imagine where I would be without my faith.

I have never felt so loved in my life. By God, friends, and complete strangers. I’ve also learned that just because God throws us curve balls in life and we don’t receive what, does not mean at all that he does not care for us. This is not the case at all.

I feel strongest in my weakest moments. People have been calling me “miracle child” and more commonly, “fighter.” And while I know this is meant to be flattering, I rarely ever consider myself either one. I call it being human. I am who I am because of hope. Side note: many people who follow my blog, read a blog post I wrote in March titled Hope is Hard. If this post interests you in any way, I’d also encourage reading my thoughts about hope as it is a topic I have brought up.

When people ask me how I’m doing and how I’m handling everything, my typical response has been along the lines of “All things considered, I am doing great!” However, internally, I’ve also recognized it’s perfectly healthy and normal to recognize that there have been large bumps in the road and recovery, especially emotional recovery, will only come with time.

Everyone, whether diagnosed with epilepsy or not faces trials and tribulations of various sizes. Sure, the events which took place two weeks ago my not occur to everyone, but everyone has a story-one that is unique!

No matter what I write about, storytelling almost always becomes incorporated. I write and share with you only because I hope that it’ll prompt you to do the same! So tell me, what’s your story?

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Bible, Blog Series, Writing

Reading The Bible Is Hard

Reading the Bible is hard.

I won’t lie, some days, I just don’t feel like reading the Bible.

Occasionally, I’ll use the excuse that I shouldn’t read it when apathetic. But I’ve realized that’s pretty pathetic–as most excuses are. That’s like saying I’m only going to read the New Testament because it’s more “relevant” or “understandable.” If I based my habits around this then I’d pick and choose passages and never allow myself be challenged by God’s Word.

My problem is that before I even open up to a book I expect words to just come flying off at the page at me.

I’m sure I’m not the only one with these sentiments.

In an earlier post, I mentioned how I am fasting from Facebook for Lent.  What I’ve discovered is that it’s much easier to fast from something than to fast and make an intentional effort to grow spiritually during that time.

That being said, I’ve decided to try something new that will hopefully help re-ignite my passion for God’s word. I’m going to write out the book of Ephesians.

I’m not sure what I’ll learn, or if I’ll learn anything at all from studying the scripture in this way.

But Paul is cool and I like writing letters so there’s that too.

I was kinda sorta inspired by Lucas Chadwick who, in 2012 set out on a journey to write out the entire Bible. It’s a crazy cool project and you should definitely check out his Facebook page.

-Kayla

P.S.

I’d love to hear any stories about how you grew closer to God through his word. Join me on this challenge?

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Bible, Blog Series, Writing

Hope Is Hard

Hope is hard. It’s a fact of life.

But hope is also beautiful. It means we’re choosing to believe that there is indeed a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. That, my friend, is no easy feat.

Hope is counting on and clinging to what we cannot see. Hope is what we grab hold of as we’re searching for peace in the middle of a war. Hope is not always comforting, but sometimes it’s all that’s left.

If hope were a person, I wonder what he’d say or what he’d do. I’d like to believe that he’d take my hand and say “here’s my hand, you can squeeze it.” Hope would know that if I can’t change my present circumstances, I’m better off knowing I don’t need to endure the battle ahead alone.

Faith and hope work closely together. Without faith, how could we hope?  How else could we confidently say,”everything will work out.” Hope is the product of faith in something. In anything. In anyone.

C.S. Lewis once said that “Faith is the art of holding on to things in spite of your changing moods and circumstances.” Sounds a lot like hope doesn’t it?

Not everyone may believe in God or a supernatural being, but it’d take an incredible amount of convincing for someone to tell me they didn’t have hope. We hope in our friends, our family, our circumstances. In tangible things.

However, I’ve found the most beautiful sort of hope is that which can’t be seen or heard or touched, but still believed in. 

-Kayla

Hebrews 6:19 “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

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