Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Scootin'
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Finals Week at CCU
Ordinarily students would be spending their Sunday night before finals week studying. But what have I been doing all day? Packing and cleaning. Why? Because CCU loves to torture people. Not only do we get to study our bums off but we get to clean our entire apartments top to bottom with bleach, clorox wipes, and other cancer breeding chemicals that fill our home with a lovely aroma. Because 6 of us live in the same apartment we get to start off the week set against each other because we had to call dibbs on what we get to clean. Then we have to wait for our roommates to move all of their stuff out of the way so we can clean. Ordinarily I wouldn't be too impatient, but seeing that if our cleaning isn't done well enough we get fined, I am furious at having to wait around for someone else needing to get a move on. So rather than having a blast with my best friends before I leave CCU for 9 months I get to temporarily hate them because we will be at each other all week. FUN!
Sunday, April 29, 2012
This is my kind of weekend
Totally ghetto
Totally in the middle of nowhere
Totally an awesome weekend
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Fear And All That Comes With It
I'm afraid to stop moving and doing because when it comes down to it I'm scared that I'm not going to be enough. Just me, no crazy activities, no new outdoor skills, no adrenaline seeking thrills to hide behind. If I'm just me I'm not good enough to be loved. Or to even be a friend. Just me is boring and plain and insufficient.
I know all of this is a lie. Yes, as me I'm not enough. But I've found what makes me enough. Why can't I own my wholeness in Christ? Why can't I grab onto it and accept it? Why can't I accept that I am complete in Christ, that God loves me that much? Why can't I just let go and be child of God? WHAT COULD I POSSIBLY BE THAT AFRAID OF? What inside of me is so insecure that I can't grasp the only thing that I know will no matter what make me 100% complete. 100% done. 100% enough.
I'm not sure but I'm thoroughly annoyed with Satan. He knows all of this. He knows that I won't let myself feel complete and he leaches on to me. He rides me day in and day out whispering lies to me. No one wants me. No one will ever accept all that is Kait, they only want the exciting new things about me. I will never fell whole. I had better just give up and take what I can get. Give into my flesh and act impulsively so that I might momentarily feel right. So that I might just for a second feel whole and complete.
I hate him. I hate him with everything that is inside my being. He knows me inside and out. He knows just how to make me fall. Inch by inch nudging my feet closer to the edge. Until I have to realize what is happening and run. I'm tired of running. Can't it be someone else's responsibility to pick up my feet for each step so I can get a break. My legs are exhausted. My feet don't want to hit the ground again. My entire body is awash with an unwillingness to fight back. But the tiny knock in the back of my brain that tells me I know better. And I do. I know better than to give into my flesh. I know better than to act of my emotional impulses. But most of me tells myself that I'm too tired from the previous day's battle to fight again. My sword is too heavy. My armor too hot. My mind too foggy to think clearly. But the knocking always manages to give me the push I need to fight another day. I hate that knock that makes me work so hard. But after the battle I can't thank the knock enough.
Life's everyday battles are excruciating. But we continue to win.
I know all of this is a lie. Yes, as me I'm not enough. But I've found what makes me enough. Why can't I own my wholeness in Christ? Why can't I grab onto it and accept it? Why can't I accept that I am complete in Christ, that God loves me that much? Why can't I just let go and be child of God? WHAT COULD I POSSIBLY BE THAT AFRAID OF? What inside of me is so insecure that I can't grasp the only thing that I know will no matter what make me 100% complete. 100% done. 100% enough.
I'm not sure but I'm thoroughly annoyed with Satan. He knows all of this. He knows that I won't let myself feel complete and he leaches on to me. He rides me day in and day out whispering lies to me. No one wants me. No one will ever accept all that is Kait, they only want the exciting new things about me. I will never fell whole. I had better just give up and take what I can get. Give into my flesh and act impulsively so that I might momentarily feel right. So that I might just for a second feel whole and complete.
I hate him. I hate him with everything that is inside my being. He knows me inside and out. He knows just how to make me fall. Inch by inch nudging my feet closer to the edge. Until I have to realize what is happening and run. I'm tired of running. Can't it be someone else's responsibility to pick up my feet for each step so I can get a break. My legs are exhausted. My feet don't want to hit the ground again. My entire body is awash with an unwillingness to fight back. But the tiny knock in the back of my brain that tells me I know better. And I do. I know better than to give into my flesh. I know better than to act of my emotional impulses. But most of me tells myself that I'm too tired from the previous day's battle to fight again. My sword is too heavy. My armor too hot. My mind too foggy to think clearly. But the knocking always manages to give me the push I need to fight another day. I hate that knock that makes me work so hard. But after the battle I can't thank the knock enough.
Life's everyday battles are excruciating. But we continue to win.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Days like today
It is on days like today, when I can't stop thinking about the man I am going to marry, that I know something is wrong. I'm 20. I should be worried about classes and the adventure that I want to tackle next. But instead I sit and wonder about the man that is out there somewhere who will one day marry me. Where is he? Will he really make me happy? Will he really be enough to make me want to settle down like everyone keeps telling me he will? Part of me has doubts but the rest of me knows that the Lord will do what he wants so it is not for me to say what is what but to act accordingly to the plan he has laid out for me
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Food
I have always hated food in a way. Its gross. Random stuff coming out of the ground and getting mashed up and slimy in your mouth. Gross. Too many combinations, too many textures. Gross.
But I also really love food. Since I've left for college food has become a great comfort for me. This isn't exactly healthy but nevertheless, I have a few in particular that warm my heart.
1. Ice cream. This will forever be the love of my food life. And forever be what I eat for breakfast on my birthday.
2. Butter. Paula Dean and I should be friends. I'd say that about explains it.
3. Garlic. Pasta, bread, mashed potatoes..it goes in everything.
4. Pistachios. I don't get it either but no matter what when I want a snack I turn to them.
5. Hard Dough Bread. This is a new obsession and heart warmer. My roommates claim it's only sentimental value that makes it taste good, but no matter what PB&J in my mind will always be made with hard dough bread from Jamaica.
Not only so I enjoy cooking but I really enjoy cooking of rather people. I think this stems from a desire for hearing that I'm a good cook and the fact that Beseda's feed people. Its just our thing. We love to host, we love to make people laugh, and we love to feed people (even if they don't want to eat). The thing I love about food is that its such a cultural link. No matter where you go you will always be tied to the region that has the food you ate as a child. Being in Denver kills me because BBQ here isn't BBQ. Its dry, tough, and under sauced, not to mention no one here uses Sweet Baby Ray's. St. Louis style pizza is unheard of and there is always groaning when the caf makes thin crust pizza. For me its like going back home, but for them it just means they have to grab twice as many slices. And toasted raviolis. Apparently St. Louis is the only place where these fried little squares of joy exist.
Thinking about food makes me miss home because no one here understands what good food is or how to make it. Sharing a kitchen with 5 other women who don't know how to cook and most certainly have no regard for my kitchen utensils drives me absolutely crazy. I love living with roommate but I can't wait to have my own kitchen where things are organized, things are out away in the right place, my stuff is in a cabinet I can reach, the trash is never overflowing, the counters are clean, the dishes are washed or at least not caked with goop, and my utensils will remain un-melted, un-burned, and looking good. So much angst over such a small kitchen. I'd say I have a control problem when it comes to this area of the house. But what can I say? Its my favorite room of a house. Its where all the magic happens.
But I also really love food. Since I've left for college food has become a great comfort for me. This isn't exactly healthy but nevertheless, I have a few in particular that warm my heart.
1. Ice cream. This will forever be the love of my food life. And forever be what I eat for breakfast on my birthday.
2. Butter. Paula Dean and I should be friends. I'd say that about explains it.
3. Garlic. Pasta, bread, mashed potatoes..it goes in everything.
4. Pistachios. I don't get it either but no matter what when I want a snack I turn to them.
5. Hard Dough Bread. This is a new obsession and heart warmer. My roommates claim it's only sentimental value that makes it taste good, but no matter what PB&J in my mind will always be made with hard dough bread from Jamaica.
Not only so I enjoy cooking but I really enjoy cooking of rather people. I think this stems from a desire for hearing that I'm a good cook and the fact that Beseda's feed people. Its just our thing. We love to host, we love to make people laugh, and we love to feed people (even if they don't want to eat). The thing I love about food is that its such a cultural link. No matter where you go you will always be tied to the region that has the food you ate as a child. Being in Denver kills me because BBQ here isn't BBQ. Its dry, tough, and under sauced, not to mention no one here uses Sweet Baby Ray's. St. Louis style pizza is unheard of and there is always groaning when the caf makes thin crust pizza. For me its like going back home, but for them it just means they have to grab twice as many slices. And toasted raviolis. Apparently St. Louis is the only place where these fried little squares of joy exist.
Thinking about food makes me miss home because no one here understands what good food is or how to make it. Sharing a kitchen with 5 other women who don't know how to cook and most certainly have no regard for my kitchen utensils drives me absolutely crazy. I love living with roommate but I can't wait to have my own kitchen where things are organized, things are out away in the right place, my stuff is in a cabinet I can reach, the trash is never overflowing, the counters are clean, the dishes are washed or at least not caked with goop, and my utensils will remain un-melted, un-burned, and looking good. So much angst over such a small kitchen. I'd say I have a control problem when it comes to this area of the house. But what can I say? Its my favorite room of a house. Its where all the magic happens.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
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