Depression

Over the last few months, I have been preparing for a speaking engagement I have coming up next week at my local church. I’ve been gathering my thoughts and writing out words to say to a group of teenagers about Identity. And it’s been a cathartic process for myself. A healing process. And if it weren’t for the time I’ve spent preparing for this lesson, I would not be able to write what comes next. It’s been hard for me to reckon a discussion about identity without bringing into the light what has been hidden. And unfortunately, the events in the news the last few days about the suicides of two prominent cultural figures has my mind churning.

We’ve seen far too much tragedy lately and often I’m at a loss for what to say or how to respond to most of them. But this week, after these deaths and the staggering figures about how many deaths occur because of suicide. It’s frightening how so few are talked about.  I’m finding myself deep in thought and, unlike the other aforementioned tragedies, I have so many words to say.

I’m not particularly overwhelmed by the deaths of Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain because I was invested in their brands, rather I have very little knowledge of either one. I only recently had listened to the episode of “How I made this” an NPR podcast, that featured Spade and her husband and the story of how they started the company so famously known and I found myself admiring her business mind, but I found it a little odd that her success wasn’t driven by passion. For Bourdain, I’ve only seen a few episodes of one of his many shows and I remember they made me laugh. His ball-busting attitude mixed with what I think was a genuine desire to make and embrace experiences that would improve the world, was so refreshing.

But instead of words about these people, I have words about the mental health and the depression they both suffered from. This cuts too close and very deep.

Many social media posts are about checking in with your friends, but I haven’t seen one yet where someone has opened up about their own struggle. So I will give a voice to it. Over the last few months, I’ve only begun to accept it myself and have only openly talked about it with a few close friends, but I suffer from depression. It’s not the first time I’ve felt a strong depression. If I really evaluate my life, it’s more like the 4^th time. But I denied the 2nd and 3^rd rounds. The last 18 months have been my worst. I truly thank God,  because suicide has never crossed my mind. Please let me repeat to my family and anyone close to me, suicide isn’t an option for me and has never been. But I won’t deny that many days have been dark and gruesome.

Before I go too far here is a caveat–my words are only about depression. I recognize that mental health issues span much farther beyond depression and need to be talked about openly, but I do not have the experience at which to talk about it.

Whenever I hear stories of people with depression, I don’t particularly notice patterns to why it begins. The only common thing I see is that no one is usually aware of when the depression started, it just slowly became a part of everyday living. The lack of a pattern means there also aren’t formulas for someone to heal from this either. Depression is unique to each sufferer. Each person will have their own response, their own attitude, their own coping mechanisms, their own outbursts. Some have depression because of traumatic life experiences, for some it’s hereditary, and others are the simply the unlucky ones. This is a classic case of why not to judge a book by its cover.  We can’t compare apples to apples here.

From both sides, people stay quiet about depression. Avoidance of awkwardness is often viewed best. My opinion is of why suffers don’t speak of what they’re suffering from is that when you have something so unique and personal it’s easier to not speak of it to avoid the malformed interpretations and advice on how to overcome. And on the other side of the coin, non-sufferers don’t understand. It’s hard to comprehend the depths of which depression can go. This adds to why mental health is one of the least talked about diseases.

I recognized in high school I had depression, but even then, when exactly did it start? I don’t know. I didn’t talk about it, I didn’t let it stop me and I eventually felt better. A few other times I had drawn out longer periods of sadness, anxiety, loneliness. But again, it eventually ended on its own. This time I denied it for a while because I was taking unrelated medication and I was warned that one of the side effects could be increased feelings of depression. Long after the medication stopped the side effects didn’t. And life got harder.

I wear my emotions on my sleeve so in some ways my unhappiness and my affected attitude and demeanor have been apparent to those who see me in the day-to-day. But that is truly a small number who see me daily. For the rest, I’ve done well to hide my depression behind busy schedules, by saying I’m not feeling well or by withdrawing from activities and commitments. In some ways I know I’ve thrown up red flags for people to notice, but that has gone by without notice. The few suspects out there were then quickly covered up with the delusions that all is well. For example, I met with a friend who is one of the most trusted people in my life and one whom I’ve shared with more than most. I was describing a situation I was struggling with and weighing out some options. I mention that it didn’t help the situation that this has been one of my most difficult years ever. Thankfully she stopped me to ask what I meant. An hour and so many tears later, she had a better picture. She even recognized that she was close to me and had no idea.

For me, the last 18months has looked like someone in mourning, because I have been. I’ve had some major losses –of opportunities and of people– that have felt like deaths occurred. Some friendships have barely survived. My identity has been assaulted. There have been days when I wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep. There have been bursts of anger. There been days I couldn’t stop crying. I’ve eliminated nearly every external commitment I have, besides my job. There’s been anxiety attacks, and sleepless nights. My body is rebelling in multiple ways. I live alone and can easily escape when I want to but I’m consciously making myself engage in some social activity, only to be a shell of a person when I’m there. I worry I’m too emotional for my friends, to distant from my family and too mean to my co-workers, when in reality I’m just trying to hold my shit together in one way or another every tiring minute. My thoughts are a constant contradiction of what I want and what I don’t want. The 18 months have had me questioning my capabilities and my strengths. It’s tested my faith and commitment to Christ. I have evaluated whether to give up going after hopes and dreams. That’s one of the toughest parts, is feeling like maybe I have to settle for this.

But you know what, I’m still here and I know I’m as strong as anyone and I’m still fighting. Inch by inch, blood on my face, on my knees in the mud, but I’m still fighting. If you know me, I have big dreams, big plans, and I’m not usually afraid to do hard things. So I keep moving towards them, some days more slowly than others. And I’m giving myself the grace to take all the time I need to heal, through the guidance of a select few friends and professionals. And I’m so grateful that I did have a deep foundation in a relationship with Christ because it’s steadfast and it has broken through to the darkest of place.

I’m intrigued that social media posts have highlighted that these recent deaths have been the least likely people. The ones who made others smile and feel valued, the ones who looked from the outside that they were pushing forward with fierce tenacity. I don’t for a second doubt their tenacity, because this is a tough battle. But I also agree with the comments that the strongest people still need support systems too. I know, because I’ve been told, that people see me as resilient and indestructible, yet I can feel so much the opposite of these. Let me just say when positions and authority, or persons and attitudes are idolized, this is a failure to recognize things hidden in the dark that one way or another will come into the light.

In my opinion, Depression sufferers want people to know what’s happening and would like help, but let’s be honest… Not everyone is safe to share our feelings with, nor is everyone deserving to know our business. (Don’t be offended if I don’t offer any more of my story beyond this post) Everyone cannot be the help we get. But hearing phrases like “Happiness is a choice” or “snap out of it” is particularly unhelpful.

But rather than tell you what’s unhelpful to someone with depression, let me tell you what is helpful from my experience. Be aware of changes in patterns, appearance, attitudes, and how frequently you see someone. This could mean life or death. Be willing to ask tough questions (no matter how much both sides hate it), but then have the ability to shut up long enough to hear the answers. Do the work to figure out how a depression sufferer feels love the most, then do that. If they need words, give them words. If they’d need their dishes washed, then grab a sponge. Depression sufferers have contradictory thoughts, emotions, and actions in our best attempts to sort it out- pointing out the contradictions every two minutes grows old fast. Do pick up a phone and call or text, or better yet, just show up. Everyone has to eat, so share a meal with them. Remember it’s not about you–which means two things; don’t nullify their experience by saying the same thing has happened to you, and their problems are not yours to own, solve, or carry the burden of. If you did play a role somewhere in this own what’s yours and apologize if necessary. Allow everyone to feel loved and worthy. Make a space for the discomfort.   

By sharing this all I feel a little lighter, and I hope it adds another voice to a very quiet topic. If you know anyone who suffers from depression, don’t just throw a 1-800  number out there to them. Please, be willing to get in the trenches. Thank you.

Oceans

I was listening to a lecture the other day for a course I am a taking and on two separate points, I felt a nagging at my heart. It was like God was saying “Pay attention to this, Katie. This is something you need to hear right now.” After processing it through, I’ve now thought maybe I need to pass on my thoughts to others.

My thoughts were snagged at the first point, when he began discussing Biblical references to water and “the deep” of Genesis 1:2. The lecturer was explaining that often times this passage of the deep as being sin, evil, and deception in the Bible, but instead it was formless and but it was about to be given life through the breath of God.

Hmm… bear with…switching gears for a moment now.

We all have our things that make us uncomfortable and the discomfort easily slips into varying degrees of fear. I don’t even have to think about mine, or maybe I spend too much time thinking about mine. The thing(s) that make me most uncomfortable is being in water and anything that occurs below the surface of large bodies of water. From the shifting sands below my feet when I stand knee deep and the animals that live below, to the cracks and crevices of land that has shifted and changed over time. Even the thought of the large amount of wreckage from storms that has been lost to the depths of the sea, it awful. I just don’t like it. Mainly, I would talk the about my discomfort of how animals are on the far end of the scale for it all in creeping me out. I avoid them at all cost in the ocean, lakes, or aquariums. And I do not, I repeat DO NOT, enter their territory. Mind you, I know that many animals can move quietly, can appear out of nowhere, and have the power to overtake me quite easily, and not just those animals dwelling in water. Humans too, have the same behavior. Yet, under the surface of the water so much more is at risk than just the animals.

Ironically, I have lived within close proximity of the ocean (100 miles or less) for more than 20 years of my life. I love spending time on the beach. The smell and sounds of the beach is an incredible gift to my senses. And now that I’m living in the desert, the ocean is the environment I miss more than any other. This origin of this sense of dread toward the ocean is something I can’t fully explain because it was once non-existent. I enjoyed my time when I played in the ocean as a child. I used to study ocean animals with fervor (ask my family about the 4^th grade month-long focus on whales, oi vey). I never have been caught in a rip-tide. I have had some incidents with animals (eels and marlins), but even when those happened it didn’t stop me in the moment. Yet, I distinctly remember in my university years not wanting to go out on the Ocean Beach Pier in San Diego because it extended a quarter mile out into the water where the likelihood of danger grew with each step. The fear presented itself and grew from there.

Recently, I was at the Titanic Museum in Belfast, Northern Ireland. In the year and a half it had been open, I wasn’t too keen to go to the museum. However, I was with a friend, and we had agreed we were doing touristy type things, so to the Titanic we went. It was indeed interesting. Yet, as we moved along chronological layout of the ship’s history, eventually we would approach the demise of the famed ship, where I knew we couldn’t escape without some exposure to the wreckage. This meant underwater. As we entered a theater showing a short documentary, I felt the shift in my mind, setting in the unease. There were the sound effects of sonar pings and the breathing through masks. It had the visuals of animals crawling across the ocean floor and things growing on the boat. Even then cheesy commentary did nothing to help. I was more and more uncomfortable. Only five minutes passed, yet it felt so much more drawn out. Then we went downstairs to a movie screen with frightening creatures. I just passed through the room with little to no slowing and waited for my friend. The situation was just humorous to her.

What I’ve come to realize over much thinking. Is that what scares me most about the deep waters is the unpredictable nature of the environment, compounded with lack of control and loss of senses.

I’ve been fully submerged. It can feel like time is standing still, then everything moves at hyper speed. You can’t hear anything, then sounds are suddenly amplified. You can’t speak or breathe without additional equipment. And known water dwelling species are larger than any other land dwelling animals. There deeper in, the less light there is. All of these things are what scares me.

Going back to my lecture, the second point that he came to was through Genesis 1:2 where it says, “The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.” From here light was introduced, and separation of sky and water, and life came forth. What the lecturer said was that the dark and the deep were still things of God and he thought they were good. Good! The things I fear he says are good!

Out of the dark, he brought us so much more than we could imagine. Over the dark, God hovered. From the beginning, he covered the darkness with His Power, and His Strength, and His Glory. He wasn’t afraid of it! This hit me straight between the eyes. Somewhere I lost the wonder of the ocean’s depths and it was replaced with anxiety and dread. My fascination with the animals was replaced with an unhealthy view that they were too powerful and strong for me. And somewhere along the line I’ve taken a view that my journey in draws me deeper into the unsafe, uncontrollable, dangerous unknown without a protector. The only false part of that is that I do have a protector. My Protector has never stopped hovering and breathing life into me.

Even with the Titantic, they had a protector. The museum portrayed, in brutal honesty, that the captains were warned by many ships moving along only hours ahead of them, moving in the same path, that there were treacherous iceburgs and that they ought to slow down and keep watch. But they moved ahead into the darkness not listening to the voices speaking to them. Oh, they moved unafraid foolishly, and found what rightly describe by the warnings. It was a decision that was destructive to so many.

It's in this message that God has been speaking to me this week, that when I am afraid and unwilling to step into His goodness and allow His breath to fill me, then consequence befall me and others.

It's interesting to me when God wants to communicate, he repeats the message. Just tonight, as I read through the passage of my Bible-In-One-Year app on my phone, they featured the book of Jonah. Talk about dealing with what scares me. Jonah decided one type of darkness (Nineveh) wasn’t good enough and he choose a different way straight into a storm and the stomach of a whale. His choice brought consequences to himself and others on board that ship and delayed the promise of God to the Ninevites. God had an animal large enough to swallow a human and keep him alive—the same ones that make me cringe— as a tool waiting in the deep for his exact purpose.

Maybe you’re like me, though you can step into the ocean with ease, your “things of the deep” are keeping you from what is available to you in God’s power. Perhaps you have different issues like a job situation, a family struggle, emotional distress or any number of things that feel out of your control. From Genesis 1 we know that these things are near to God and he can call them good. It’s time to release the fear and remember God is hovering, ready to bring light into your dark deep places.

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As a side note: 

I can think of at least three people who will read this and will now, even more fervently insist I go swimming in the ocean again. I'm not hopping on a plane to do it, but one day I will. Promise.

Trust.

For months, several posts have been on my mind, but as my life typically transpires, it’s a whirlwind and I still have the thoughts needing to get out. So it’s now the end of the day on January 1, 2014 and it seems appropriate to write.

The year of 2013 both started and ended tense. It was far from the easiest year I’ve experienced. It was a growth year and growth hurts. It was a year of trust.

Every year I pray over and chose one word to focus on for the year. Instead of a resolution, I ask God to help me chose a word that he wants to teach countless lessons to me over the year and this year it was Trust. Immediately I began to learn lessons of trust.

2013 started with trusting God’s voice in my life. I knew Northern Ireland and the UK was a place God was stirring things in me, growing desires in my heart, releasing dreams, and connecting the dots for many areas of life. My problem was that I was back state-side for Christmas, facing delays in the visa process and gaps in my funding. I was in limbo of where I would end up and logic looked different to every active influencer in my life. I knew God was saying ‘Trust me and we’ll do this together.’ With 24 hours before my return flight, my visa was delivered to me, and I had to make a choice that a few thousand dollars wasn’t going to be the wall to hold me back from chasing God and trusting him.

I stepped into a new season living in Northern Ireland. I continued to be a student at Causeway Coast Vineyard’s Encounter School of Mission. I stepped into a role as Graphics and Multimedia Intern at the church. I stepped away from expectation of others and I continued chasing God and the shared dreams we have together.

This year I learned lessons of trust in God:

• When I want to be a dreamer - He give me dreams.
• When depression struck me and I pulled away from many relationships - He knows the loneliest places of my heart and he brings peace. He stops the lies and replaces it with joy. He gives the wisdom to speak the words “I’m sorry, and I need your support.” His support comes in friends willing to call me out on my crap and my attitudes and who drew me back to reality that I am loved and I could experience happiness again.
• With a longing for a Mr. to share my life with - He is the lasting love who comes before all, He doesn’t want to deprive me but he doesn’t want me to settle on just anyone. Love doesn’t look like what I want it to, but He never leaves or forsakes me. He forgave and forgives me when I have and will mess up and hurt others who try to love me. Waiting on His timing and not pushing for my own is hard, yet will be rewarding. Hearing “I love you” from another person doesn’t always mean butterflies in the stomach. I may feel ready, but I have to trust that my Mr. is also being made ready for me. There are AMAZING men of faith around who prove that daily.
• When finances proved a continuous struggle - God is the financial provider and asking for and accepting help is not bad. It teaches humility and appreciation for people, their generosity and their love.
• When family was far away - He sets the lonely in families, bringing new people in for comfort. He also taught me that sometimes, only the sound of our own family's voices, is the comfort I can have, even if it is only from the far end of a phone line.
• When I step out on faith against logic time and time again to follow His lead - He cheers me on. He blesses me. He honors it. And then He asks me to go farther because he trusts me.
• When I want to be creative. He fills me with ideas, he sets me with people to spur me on, He provides opportunities beyond measure.
• When I call myself an adventurer - He called me that first, and he’s calling me into greater adventures of my faith
• When I want to try my limits He cheers me on and steers me away gently and forcefully. Good things: New recipes, new business endeavours , praying for the sick, prophesying, filming, creating motion graphics, applying for jobs, swimming and so much more. Bad things: saying yes to wrong relationships, debt, not getting enough rest, staying away from His love.

I wasn’t always on the side of being asked to trust. Often, I was asking others to trust me.

• A foreigner in a different culture brings words, traditions, inflections, attitudes, and demeanors that aren’t always comfortable for others.
• Skills and expertise are given for us to use them, but sometime others are uncomfortable and scared by what they don’t know
• Building relationships takes work. A lot of it.

2013 was filled with amazing moments. Tragic moments. Splendid moments. Quiet moments. It was a year that I stood up for what I believed in, when it was counter-cultural (in oh so many ways) and I took hits for it. It was a year I saw lives changed, the kingdom of God brought forth, and God’s presence overwhelm. A year that my skills expanded, my patience was challenged, and my skills where used to connect people to a community of hope. It took a lot of trust.

I have hiked many trails in my life and I’ve seen that these paths— whether oceanside, mountainside, or deep in a forest—can change course without warning. Life is much the same way. We can walk in trust and think everything is going one way, but it changes. I should have expected it, but I just didn’t.

In August, I had a few weeks of growing anxiety surrounding many things. But my word, trust, was echoed in my ear, in my dreams, in my conversations, in my prayers. God was asking me to trust him to lead me away from Northern Ireland and back to the states. September 22 I said ‘see you later’ to many friends, I spent the night with some of my favorites, and the next day I was brought to a bus, which led to a plane, which delivered me back into the United States.

I had no plans. No job. No solid understanding of why. Except God said trust me.

It’s been a few months of being in Arizona and continuing trust to know that the answers will come of why the change.

In these few months home, I’ve been exposed to a new song that I am claiming as one (of many) anthem for the year. It is called ‘Oceans (where my feet may fail)’ by Hillsong United. There is a chorus or bridged that says:

Spirit, Lead me
where my Trust is without borders
let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me

Take me deeper
than my feet could ever wander
and my faith would be made stronger
in the presence of my Saviour.

Lead me where my trust is without borders. No matter what 2014 brings, I want to be walking where my trust is with out borders. I want to experience all God has because I’ve been reclaimed, renamed, renewed, redeemed, and there is nothing that can be more satisfying.

The Masterpiece

This blog, is one I wrote for Real Women: A blog from the women of Causeway Coast Vineyard, posted August 11, 2013. I hope you enjoy it. And if you do, pop on over to their site and check out other wonderful posts http://causewaycoastvineyardwomen.blogspot.co.uk/

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I love art! I enjoy all forms of it. And like any love, there is growth from where it started to where it’s going to end up.

When I was a child, the moment it was time for art, I was so excited. I could have been at school, at church, or at a friend’s house, my materials could have been pipe-cleaners, paint, chalk or clay—if I was allowed to get messy with anything at anytime I was ecstatic. My favourite thing was melting crayon shavings between two sheets of wax paper to make a “stained glass window.” These masterpieces, I would carry home to my parents and they’d get their time on the refrigerator door or bulletin board and eventually they’d come down. When they came down most often I didn’t know where they’d go.

My dad had his office that was a black hole. We avoided it because we weren’t sure if we went in that we’d come out of it again. But one day I ventured in, snooped around a bit, and was shocked to find artwork I had created years before. Not only my work, by my sibling’s as well. If found things that I know for certain I had thrown into the garbage bin because I wasn’t proud of it, or thought it had lost it’s value. The work that had been tossed away by me had made it back out via my father’s digging hands. He responded that he was proud of the work we did and he wanted to remember how we’d changed over time. I thought he was too sentimental.

At age fifteen, I painted a picture of three angels and a bible verse on a piece of slate with a leather cord for hanging. Again, I carried it home to my mom. That week it was hung next to the front door, and fifteen years later I cringe when I walk through the door because it is still the first thing I see. No matter the amount of my begging and pleading to remove this art that I find subpar, my mother refuses. She still loves it and she says it reminds her of me in my absence and it reminds her to welcome guests as angels. The verse is Hebrews 13:1.

In my final semester of university, I was in an advanced art class and I began a series of artwork where I took one surface and then used the material least likely to be matched with it and essentially wrote out my journal entries. On walls I used pen. On canvases I used pencil. On post-it notes I used paint. On a white boards I used permanent marker. I wrote my entries it in a way that no one, including myself could really read the final outcome without intense effort. Intentionally, I also wrote it in ways that were meant to disappear when the series was done. In the critique, my lecture and fellow students asked why I choose the materials and subject I did. My explanation to them was that I had always been a journal writer. However, when I would fill a journal I would throw it away. The emotion came out in the writing but I didn’t want to remember what I had been through and so it went in the bin. In that moment, I saw the jaws drop throughout the entire group. My professor loved the work, but hated the idea behind it. He told me, that if I didn’t present one of the pieces to him the Friday before graduation (still four months away), he was failing me in the class, because my thoughts and my art were worth remembering. Not only did I have to show it to him before graduation, he challenged me to keep that piece for the rest of my life. I still have five of them.

Today, and for the past eight years, I am a graphic designer. Recently, I completed a website with a portfolio of my work. It’s the first I’ve had. Chatting with a friend, they asked how I chose what went on the site and I had to say honestly that some it work I really like and some is stuff I hate but it’s work that shows my capabilities. They asked why I hated my own work, and my simple response is that I can do better. He pointed out that we are always going to expect growth in design. As a matter of fact we expect it in art, writing, technology, and so many other things, but we don’t always expect it in other areas. He specifically mentioned that we don’t expect growth in our leadership capabilities or even our faith.

My mind started racing at this profound thought that people don’t always expect growth in a faith walk. Often people cling to familiar ways, be it a selection of worship songs, the seat on the aisle, the popular pastor, or the one theological point that is impossible to break free from. There is a tendency to pine after days of the high highs, and moving past the low lows can’t come fast enough. But in this messiness and change, we are shaped into a masterpiece that is loved by God.

My dad dug out of the bin, the artwork that I found worthless, because he found it priceless. God did that for our lives. The world is out to say we’re nothing—a mere passing spec—but our value is defined by One greater than us. In the Message translation, John 3:16-17 is so beautifully written “This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again.” We are pulled out of the bin and restored to honor.

My mom displays my painting in a place where every person entering her home sees it first, because she loves it and she wants to show me off. God puts us on display because we are pleasing and beautiful to him. We are on display because we have a role to play. “What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor. You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet.” Psalm 8:4-6. Maybe you make the best treats of all the primary school moms; perhaps you are in charge of a team of employees; or it might be that you are a freelancer like me. No matter what it is that fills your days and takes your time God is pleased by you. He likes you and he wants to honor you.

My professor challenged me to keep my work, because he knew that power comes in remembering your journey. In Joshua 4:1-9 there is a scene where God commands Joshua to choose twelve men to a place a stone each at the middle of where they crossed the Jordan. It says they are to be a memorial forever of their journey and where God brought them. Growth in faith is messy. It is happy and sad and every other emotion under heaven. But if there is no remembrance of the journey, future generations miss out on the lessons taught by God.

My progression of art has changed, as has my faith. My materials changed, my tools more precise, and the process is more costly. I can learn new methods, hear new thoughts, and create new ideas. Still the chaos remains. I now keep journals because though they hold the uneasiness, they also hold the beauty God has been so merciful with. Still I want to improve. Improvement is good and healthy. But instead of seeing myself through flawed eyes, I see the masterpiece God has carefully crafted me to be, and I know that the craftsman is not done.

I have expectancy that things are going to change. I have the expectancy that God is going to meet me in new ways, ask me to remember many more things, to teach others, to give up my critiques of worth, to challenge my thinking, and to move me further along. After all, it’s His masterpiece He’s creating, not mine.

Homesick..

It doesn't happen a lot, but today I'm a bit homesick.  I wear a navy jersy-knit dress, gray leggings, navy and pink floral wellie boots, and a moustached print scarf. It's 2:30 pm and I'm trying to stay warm and dry from the rain pouring down outside and the 54º (12ºC)  weather. It's July. It should be warmer.

There's a heat wave in Arizona where my home base is now. They're getting 115-120º (46º-48ºC) and would call me crazy for wanting to be in it.  But I want to smell the sun on my skin, and feel the dry hot breeze across my face.

Picture from Tammy Kleck

I want tortilla chips accompanied by bowl of my friend Jen's fresh guacamole and salsa. I want to drink Boba tea with Danielle. I want to sit pool side while my nephews beg me to swim with them. I want to see all the babies born to my friends while I've been in Northern Ireland. I want to be a bbq with the friends of my small group. I want pizza and pepsi with my mom, and coffee at a diner with my dad. There are so many other events I wish I could do today.

There are red white and blue flags flying here, but they're the wrong ones. I want to see the one to the right.


Tomorrow I'll be fine I'm sure, but today good ol' Uncle Sam is calling.

Generosity – Part 3

Generosity and identity – those are key terms for me in this past year. I understand more fully that they aren't interchangeable, but you can't be generous without knowing a sense of your identity.

I’m still taken by Jeff Shinebarger's book, More or Less: Choosing to Live a Lifestyle of Excessive Generosity that I wrote on in part one. In his book, there is a chapter titled 'More Than Enough,' that touches on the topic of identity and generosity. It has fuelled part of this post.

It seems like we have an innate struggle to see ourselves in a positive light. It is always said we are our own worst critics. We fear our incapability. We dismiss our opinions. We are quick to point out our flaws. We put out the idea to others and to ourselves that we aren’t worthy.

Generosity – Part 2

Yesterday I posted about Generosity and how it has been challenging me. Today, as I was checking a blog from one of my favorite author Donald Miller on his Storyline Blog. It was titled 'A Surprising Way to Become More Generous." I was intrigued. The post isn't actually written by Miller, but a guest contributor, Allison Vesterfelt. Upon reading her post, it described me and my heart towards generosity at times.

So instead of writing it myself, I re-post her blog for you to read. The original post can be found here.

A Surprising Way to Become More Generous

I used to think I was a generous person. Then, I met my husband.

Generosity – Part 1

I have tapped the keys of my keyboard here for several minutes, and I have spent many minutes, hours, days thinking over what I want to write here. The word generosity—the meaning it holds, the action it requires, the freedom and the pain it brings— has enraptured my thoughts of recent.

Generous/generosity is not an uncommon word though it may not be everyday we hear it spoken. Chances are, the meaning of it is not lost on you. But to clarify this is the meaning, taken from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

Generous

a : characterized by a noble or forbearing spirit
b : liberal in giving
c : marked by abundance or ample proportions

I’ve been in Encounter School of Mission, and we often talked about generosity of our time and our prayers. Our pastor has done a sermon series on generosity. I have been exposed to the generosity of others support for me to be in Northern Ireland. I hear it all around me.

Possibly a month ago, in my email, or Facebook newsfeed, I was alerted to an offer of an audiobook that could be downloaded. I saw it had ‘generous’ in the title, and I decided I needed to get it. Not only was generous in the title, but it read excessive generosity. What?!? Excessive? The book, More or Less: Choosing to Live a Lifestyle of Excessive Generosity written by Jeff Shinabarger is about a man’s exploration into generosity and how through many social experiments of his friends, his wife, and he himself found that we live in access and abundance. And in that excess we can change the world by being generous with it. I cannot recommend this book more. I listened to it in a day or two, and have played the chapters over and over again.

I am thinking that one post on generosity is not enough to get my thoughts out properly. If I tried, it would be a novel, so I’ll spare you and break it into bit size pieces. More or less, has challenged my thinking chapter by chapter. It breaks down what we think is ‘enough’ in areas of time, food, clothing, convenience. On more than one occasion, I was chomping at the bit to clear out my room, to give things away, to find where I have excess. And then seconds later, I see that I am in a place of need as well. I found a brokenness and weakness in me where I know I utterly depend on the generosity of others. Some of the levels of need recently have been more than I’ve ever experienced in life—that’s a painful reality.

There are a lot of things I have and want. There are a lot of things I have done. There are a lot places I've visited. There are many books I have read. There are many conveniences in my life. There are many friends in my life. I could keep going. For all that I have, there is an equal amount of what I have not. But all in all, there is abundance.

Out of my abundance, I am seeing opportunity for moments to change the world. Out of my need it shifts my perspective to understand those who’ve been in my place.

I can’t guarantee you’ll find a radical mind shift too towards generosity. Read this book. Listen to the sermon series. Or don’t. But I ask you to be willing to ask and be asked the question, where is there excess that you can live and give from?

Reminder

I found this posted here today and I felt it was another good reminder to me even today.

Lessons From An Ant

I was lying down in the sandy dunes of Castlerock Beach on Wednesday. It’s been a long few weeks with so much added on my already full load. So I was taking the day alone to gain some rest and some clarity. At the beach I was journaling, praying and listening. I’ve been struggling with a lot of things lately, among them has been comparing myself to others and a season of depression. Today these were my lament. As I spent the morning asking God to reveal himself to me, I was expectant He would answer. He did, albeit I was surprised how it came…

When you lie on the ground you see how many minuscule bugs there are. They do not put me off in any real manner, but they fall into the category of animals in my mind. If you know me, animals of any shape, size, or breed don't often get much, if any, of my attention.* As I shifted position in the sand, my journal was pushed aside and I saw an ant. Strangely, it had my immediate attention. We all know ants are characteristically strong. They can hold a ridiculous amount of weight in comparison to their body size. However, this ant was lacking on the strength side. It was on its back and seemed to struggle but with reason. It’s legs were wrapped around a piece of grass not much larger than an eyelash, and it couldn’t seem to turn over and get the grass on it’s back. The ant was refusing to give up. I was watching it; sort of cheering the ant on, hoping its innate strength was going to win the battle with the grass. After a few minutes it gave up the fight and just lay there. The ant then pushed the grass aside and looked like it was just trying to turn over. I’m now at about 5 minutes watching this ant.

Church Planting

I have known for a while, ok about 10 years, that church planting was going to be a part of my future. But it always seemed far off.

A few springs ago, God reminded me of it on a hike and this was my response:

What! Really?! No way? Crap. No- it will be good. Scratch that. it will  be great!. Seriously? Ok.

Where you go I'll go. Where you lead I will go.

When I came to Northern Ireland, I kind of knew, that God was speaking into this more, I just needed to listen. There were a couple of people who were in the process of planting churches. I considered them and prayed about them, but those don't seem right. Recently, far more consistently and clearly, God speaking to me about church planting. It doesn't seem as far off in time.

Things are shifting. Things are gettting exciting. Things are getting out of the comfort zone.

I guess I would continue to ask for prayer, guidence and support.

Graphics & Multimedia at Causeway Coast Vineyard

Sunday Services @CCV, photo courtesty of Gillian Higgins

Part of what I am doing in Coleraine, is interning for Causeway Coast Vineyard, for Graphics and Multimedia. I do many things there. Some times it does my head in and there is always a demand for another piece of designed work. But it excites me.
I've been a graphic designer now for many years and I love it, but I found a struggle some times working in a creative service agency because the work wasn't always personally on par with me. It didn't go to make the world a better place.

I love fonts, I love colors, I like order, but working with CCV I see doing design as so much more than that. It is an opportunity to communicate when words can't. If things I design can get into the hands, or before the eyes of someone who hasn't had the opportunity to know anything of the church, and by that chance, they walk through the doors of the church, hear a sermon, or sing a song that is life changing, and they commit their life to pursuit of the love of God, then a day behind the computer is a a good day for me.

RECreate

I am so excited to share this with you. RECreate.

As their website says :

Born out of a creative movement on the North Coast of Northern Ireland, RECreate is a collaborative endeavor amongst friends. Its purpose is to highlight, empower, and enable opportunity for the unique and talented artists that are based in or visiting Northern Ireland and the United Kingdom. Whether it is music, words, or film…creativity is what drives us forward in our own lives, so we delight in encouraging others in their own pursuits. Our mentality is that creativity breeds creativity. We are RECreate.

wearerecreate,com

idea was born. They ran full steam ahead with it, and today it launched! I have been helping them with some of the graphics behind this so I've followed the progress before anyone else has seen it. It's going to be an amazing thing coming across the UK. Right now they're focusing on making music videos and writing reviews of the music, but there are plans for eventual growth into other areas.

I am so happy to promote them. Check it out.

wearerecreate.com

Encounter Gets Out Of Coleraine

With Encounter School of Mission, we have our teaching days and then we have our practical days. Often the practical days are in Coleraine, the town that we're based in. It's easy and we really focus on trying to impact our local community. But on occasion we go out to the town.

Recently we've gone to Derry and Enniskillen, both in Northern Ireland, and Sligo, in the south. They've been interesting trips.

Derry 

I really love meeting people while I'm traveling. Because of my personal interest in travel, I'm always curious why people are on the move so it provides opportunity to talk and pray with people. We had earlier in the year gone to another town on a train, and it was one of my favorite days. We'd missed our return train but I ended up talking to a woman called Ruby for 45 minutes. She and her husband were caretakers of a church, and she was traveling to get fitted for a leg brace. In that time we prayed for her leg, but she wanted to pray for revival in her church. Heck yes! Of course I wanted to pray with her about that. It was so good. Any how that day had made me love Encounter travel days, and my leaders knew this, so they asked me to lead the group to go to Derry.

Doing What I Am Meant To Do

Tuesday night I crawled into bed and it was almost midnight.  I had left my house about 8:45am to go to Encounter for my normal scheduled teaching session. We always know that Encounter can be unpredictable and anything can happen, but when I left to go there in the morning, I didn't expect to not come home from it until past 11pm. The day was one of the best I've had in a long time. Now, it is a few days later and I am still reeling. I feel like my lungs were filled with a fresh new air. Every part of the day I felt I was doing what I was and am meant to be doing.

I started by going to CCV for Encounter. Encounter School of Mission is a course I began last August and I believe it is one of the reasons that I was brought to Coleraine, Northern Ireland in the first place. The course is all about servant evangelism. We have a group teaching session on Tuesdays and then practical application on Thursdays. In the course, weekly we face huge risk of going into the streets to pray and minister to people. Some interaction is practical ways of washing windows, passing out muffins, and cleaning toilets, but we also ask God to direct us to people to pray with and when we find them we approach them, chat with them, and ask if we can pray and share God's love with them. Some days are great, and some are hard. The course has been a big catalyst for me in seeing God's love in such a new way. I've really grown to see and understand that what they Bible says we can do and should do (Luke 4:18-19, Matthew 28:19-20), we do really have the authority to do. I have seen people healed of crazy physical/emotional ailments; I've seen freedom come to those crushed by finances, depression or broken families. I have continuously gone into businesses to pray for them and when they were struggling financially in August are now experiencing a complete financial turn around.

Sometime I Truely Believe This Is A Fairytale

 If you ever come to Northern Ireland, Murlough Bay, outside of Ballycastle is a must see. I was with my friends Samuel, Phil and JD and they were scouting an area for a music video shoot and we ended up here. It is by far the most gorgeous place I've been to date in Northern Ireland.


It was a fairy tale in beauty and in the sense that I felt like a princess among these truly incredible men.

It was already a windy day in Coleraine, but when Sam parked the car at the top of the hill we weren't expecting gale force winds. We were just leaning into the wind hoping it wouldn't stop suddenly or we were going fall flat on our faces. Seeing the rocky cliffs, we were also hoping that a gust wasn't going to knock us over, because of course our curiousity brought us far too close to the cliff edges.

All photos are courtesy of Samuel Steele.

 

 

Sometimes even little gnomes come out for a visit in the fairy tales

Donegal Weekend Trip

A small glimpse of the beauty standing at one of the most northern points of the island.

Over our Easter Holiday break from Encounter, myself and seven friends took a wee trip to County Donegal, Ireland. It was an incredible place of beauty. I've heard in the whole time I've been here how gorgeous Donegal is but I'd really only driven through. Well after three days I would agree.

The eight of us loaded into three cars with all of our gear, and headed to a rented cottage near Fanad Head. We brought our own food and each had to cook only one meal for the rest of the group. We had no internet, an no phone connection. It was a great break.  We dandered about the beach which was only about a 5 minute walk out of our door. We enjoyed wine and a pint or two. We visited Fanad Head lighthouse (which made me think of the East Coast of the US), Portsalon, Carrickart, Downings and a few other places.

Here are some pictures from the trip

Finished Up The Twenties. Now Onto Thirty.

A few weeks ago, I was hitting my thirtieth birthday. There’s no gasp on my end so there shouldn’t be any on yours. I am not really sure why it is that people get scared of passing the threshold of thirty. Like other birthdays, life doesn’t suddenly change when the birthday begins or ends. Panicking about it will not change the fact that there were things I wanted to do beforehand but didn’t. The panic certainly will not make me feel younger or older. I simply was not overly bothered. Actually, I was and am quite happy because I have had an incredible life that I think is still in quite the early stages. There is so much more still to come.

I did have one shocking thought upon approach—this is the beginning of a new decade, what am I going to do to make it better than the last? What choices would I make? Who would I meet? What new corners (or old corners, I guess) or the world would I find myself living? There is a lot that can happen in a decade.

Ten years ago when I was turning 20, I was a sophomore in college, struggling with my identity in many ways. I was frustrated with my family, with my faith, with my mental well-being. I was far from home. My college classes were turning my thoughts upside down, inside out, and backwards. As I came to my twentieth birthday all I wanted to do was abandon all that I knew of me and create someone new. But two massive things happened after I turned twenty.

I Need Your Support

March 2013

A letter Family and Friends –

Today I sit in my home in Northern Ireland, and I feel a chill in the air but I see the sun peeking through the clouds. It makes me aware of the many blessings in that have shone down on my life in the past year and a half and I am excited to see what still has yet to be given to the light. And this is what I am writing to share with you. As many would know, in September of 2011,  I packed up my life in Tempe, Arizona and moved to Northern Ireland to start a course at the University of Ulster and to become involved with the Causeway Coast Vineyard Church in Coleraine. It was a rocky start, but very quickly, I felt that this place has become a place of welcome and it’s home away from home.

I spent much of my time here earning a Masters Degree in Design Communication. The course allowed me to continue my career pursuit of graphic design while adding business and research skills. I developed a web-based community growth initiative that attempts to change a community by promoting happiness, well-being and hope. The work was intensive and I found myself challenged in many ways but it left eagerness in me to do more. Through the research and work, I’ve discovered that this community of Coleraine is searching for answers and looking for something higher to aspire to.

When I wasn’t working towards the masters’ degree, I was in an informal role at Causeway Coast Vineyard Church, volunteering my time with graphic design. It is a church of nearly one thousand people with a deep reach into the community. They were greatly in need of visual communications that matched the vision they have for the church and the impact it already has and will continue to strive for. Being involved at this level, I have seen the heart and the passion of the leadership of the CCV, to bring the transforming love of Christ into the lives of men, women and children who live in Coleraine, the surrounding area and more areas of Northern Ireland. I get so excited by the many ministries that have begun before I arrived, while I’ve been here, and what is still being developed. There has been incredible favor on this place, but there are still many people who’ve not yet experienced the love God has for them. Being a designer, I understand that visual communication is, on occasion, the first contact the community has with any organization, and I feel blessed to have helped the CCV reach the community members in this way.

Among many programs at Causeway Coast Vineyard, one is the Encounter School of Mission. I had several friends who took this course last year and I desired to be involved with it as well. Encounter is a nine-month teaching course that focuses on evangelism and leadership. Encounter students are encouraged to pursue the gifts of the Holy Spirit, to go intentionally into their daily lives ministering and taking risk for the Kingdom of God. As if I wasn’t busy enough, with only two weeks left of my masters’ course and four months left on my visa, I decided to begin Encounter. Since starting it in August, I feel like I have really begun to see why God led me to Northern Ireland in the first place.

I have absolutely loved seeing God’s Kingdom break through to the people of Coleraine. As a group of students in Encounter, we gather on a Tuesday for teaching from the pastors and leaders of CCV as well as dedicated prayer and intercessional ministry for one another. Then Thursdays and Saturdays, are our practical days when we head out into the streets of town, taking what we’ve learned and bring it into the community. It is mission focused in a local environment. We seek to serve by listening to, healing, praying for and speaking of God’s truth into the lives of those in the community. Amazing stories of God’s grace have come from this course. I have realized from Encounter that every person has an identity in Christ that needs to be released. I’ve experienced it in my own life and helped guide others to it.

For the first time since moving to Northern Ireland, I was able to return to Arizona for one month this past Christmas. It was a great time to visit family and friends. It was well-needed time to see everyone, but it was also needed to really seek wisdom and guidance on what to do next. My student visa expired and I was applying for a new visa. I felt so eager to take what I’ve learned in Northern Ireland and bring it into my community there in Arizona. I want to see God’s Kingdom break through in the States as it is my first home. However, the time home helped me see with more certainty, that Northern Ireland is still the place God has me for now. So in January, I returned in a new capacity and with new needs.

There are a few things I am involved with in Coleraine. Firstly, Causeway Coast Vineyard has invited me into a formal internship for graphics and multimedia. It is a role that I am eager to be in. I am continuing work on visual communications within the church body as well as working on outward focused campaigns to reach the community. I am working on building a team of other creatives and expanding the impact that multimedia and arts plays in the CCV community. I’m very excited with the possibilities this brings to serve while using the skills that I’ve so diligently developed while in my masters’ course, while showing others that their artistic abilities are gifting from God for use in Kingdom expansion.

Secondly, I’ve continued on with Encounter. When I returned to the states, Encounter was only four months into the nine month course and I very much desired to finish the course. My heart has grown for missional work and I’m not sure beyond Northern Ireland where that will take me, but Encounter will continue to provide tools and learning to keep on this path.

Lastly, I am still hoping to continue work on the web-based initiative I built in my time at The University of Ulster. I have had a few meetings with the local council and they seem eager to learn more of the project.

I aspire to see God change the hearts and minds of those in the UK to follow Him. I don’t have a definitive time line for how long I’ll be in Coleraine or the UK. As long as I continue to sense God’s hand stirring the work here, I will continue on. I am committed to seeking His heart for my community in Northern Ireland and in Arizona as my home base. As I continue this incredible journey in Northern Ireland, the areas I would ask for your support are first and foremost, prayer:

• Pray that more guidance would be imparted on me and that all fear would go.
• Pray that creativity would flow in new ways and that cultural boundaries would be non-existent.
• Most importantly, pray that God's love can pour through me and those I partner with Causeway Coast Vineyard, Encounter, and in the community.

Also, would you also prayerfully consider supporting me financially with a one-time donation or monthly support of some degree? In each of these roles I’ve taken on, I must be self-funded and my current visa does not allow me to work while in the UK. Any amount you could offer will help, as it will go to my daily living expenses and housing. I have included a self addressed stamped envelope for your ease in supporting me. Whether you can contribute financially or not, I know that your thoughts and prayers can be counted on.

The generous love and support I have already received has been a blessing beyond measure and I know that I wouldn't be in this position without it. I truly believe God is leading me on this journey and has provided in so many ways. I know his provision will continue.

Many blessings to you and yours!
Katie

A Dusting Off

I do not know if you are like me but when life gets cluttered I notice it everywhere—from the clothes on my floor, the mound of books tumbling off the shelf, the icons on my computer desktop, and the trash on the street—and I am pushed me into drastic measures. It begins the massive effort for “Katie’s World Clean-Up Day/Week/Month.” Yes, it does last months sometimes. I clean up and reorganize everything. I attempt to figure out better methods to handle my chaos. I toss out what is not important.  And then, I put away the things that are important, but not necessary at the moment. Unfortunately, there are instances that I have gone too extreme in “Katie’s World Clean-Up.” As I shift things around while cleaning up, some stuff is put away that should not have been put away in the first place. Have you ever put something on a shelf that was useful, important, or treasured, and then you forget where it went?  Well, it is time to dust off a lot of things I have put on a shelf for a while. This blog, Beautiful Chaos, is one of them. I shifted it out of my focus and I lost an important outlet.

Life got cluttered, my brain got cluttered, and I started cutting things away.  I took away the blog because I thought I could not handle the time it takes to write. Unknowingly, I also took away something that effectively uncluttered my brain. As I been away from Beautiful Chaos, more thoughts have piled up in my brain that I could not find an outlet for. Writing a blog provides me a way to do many things. With it I can talk about my travels, tell the stories of an American living in Northern Ireland. I am able to process what God is speaking to me and communicate it with others. With the blog I can share what inspires and challenges me. It allows me communicate with people from home when I can’t stay on top of replying to emails, Facebook or Skype. The blog also helps me develop skills as a writer. By taking it away from myself, I actually began to notice my head starting to explode with ideas that I could not quite get out other ways.

I have learned that I love words. I love stories. I love describing the wonder that is in my mind and hearing the wonder that is in other’s minds. I love learning the skills that God is calling out in me, especially when I thought they were the absolute last things He had planned for me. I never thought I would call myself a writer. I use the term very loosely for now. Much improvement could be made on what I do, but it is process I am embarking on once again.

A few months back, I was at a retreat with my Encounter School of Mission Team. We were at the end of a long night, but we were all huddled in groups praying for one another, and I clearly heard God speaking to me that the arts were mine to take. I have always loved the arts, focusing mostly on design and art, but music, writing and theater have always intrigued me. That not only is design and art an area that God wants to expand in my life, but writing and music are as well. He was speaking to me that the world I see—one that sometimes seems so fantasy like, unusual, beautiful, difficult, far-fetched, confusing, and inspired—is something that is the basis of the arts for me and I needed to start writing again. After I heard this from God, a friend who was praying for me said the same thing, she spoke “Katie, it’s time to take the pen and paper out again.” It was a confirmation to me.

Confirmation yes, but finding the courage to step into again was another thing. It has taken a few months to act on instructions and desire. I know I shoved this blog on the shelf when it was never meant to be.  I was wary of making mistakes, filling my time too much, and focusing on the wrong things. Yet, I keep coming back writing, thinking about it, feeling the urge to write, and hearing the prompting to do so. So here I am, finding myself finally searching my shelves for one of those lost items that are treasured to me. It’s coming down and being dusted off. There needs to be some oil added to make it work again, but it’s being restored. The knicks and scratches don’t take away from anything but add to the charm. I know I have a unique perspective on life, we all do. I see chaos, yet I also see beauty. It’s time for sharing in the clean up of my mind.