Don't dare God... He might just deliver!

If you read my previous blog post then you are aware that I have been searching for a new professional opportunity for nearly eleven months. They have been trying months and learning months... they have been desperate months and searching months. But... they are over. I have come to the end of that valley of life and am humbled at God's promise in it all... it's a great story I want to share. 

When my job situation changed last fall I was slightly at a loss. I knew what I wanted to do and pursued those aspirations... but interviews came and went to no avail. Influences and resources in my life kept pointing me to teaching and I was running as far as possible. A lot of folks don't know that I actually have a Masters in TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages). During grad school I decided to pursue Student Affairs and Higher Ed rather than teaching... and I'll forever be grateful for that decision because of the wonderful people I have met along the way (Seriously... some of you Samford coworkers and kids... my life would be so different without having known you!). However, as I journeyed on this valley of job searching, surrounded by a school full of amazing teachers (OGLE IS the place to be!), I found the influence of teaching to abound... people kept asking me what I taught, then why didn't I teach, etc... people from all aspects of my life! So much so, that I began to pray about it... because the truth is, even though I have that degree, I've never really wanted to be a teacher. Not even a little bit, not even at all. I couldn't ignore those influences though... so I looked into what I would have to do to get certified, I looked into different options, and in the mean time I was scared. Scared of what I didn't know... of a field I had no experience in (with the exception of some volunteer work). I continued to pursue only jobs that were within my interest, and I realized at some point in time along the way I was a bit like Jonah... 

So one day many many months ago, during what I like to call one of my 'chats' with God, I told God (paraphrasing here)... "Okay Lord, if you really want me to be a teacher then I'll do it... but I want to teach college students and I don't want to have to move." I specifically mentioned in that prayer the English Language Institute at USM... an incredibly specific prayer that I figured wasn't likely to happen since there were no job openings that I was aware of at the time... but in May the ELI posted a job, and I applied. (Also note - this request was between me and God, I didn't share with anyone else).

Fast forward to last week... I was in a mood... Wednesday was a bad day. I was deep dark in that valley of not feeling adequate and capable since it seemed no one would hire me for a job. I'm not even sure what got me to that breaking point... but as I prayed on Wednesday night I literally lifted my hands up to God and said "I'm handing you the reigns to this search Lord"... the things I was pursuing were not working. Those doors were shutting, and I felt like I was hitting my head against a wall until I realized that no matter how much I had prayed and prayed and PRAYED about this situation... I had not fully given it to the Lord. I was a bit like Jonah... trying to do my own thing and the results were getting me nowhere!! (Thankfully they weren't getting me into the belly of a whale!). So I prayed and cried and finally gave it up... finally relinquished the control of my professional future. It was scary, but I was relieved. 

Not even kidding, I received two offers for interviews on Thursday. Literally HOURS after I gave control of my situation back to God. Both were jobs I was very interested in, one was in Student Affairs and one was a teaching job... at the English Language Institute at the University of Southern Mississippi. 

(Y'all pick your jaws up off the floor... I know I had to!)

I spent the weekend researching teaching methods and reading scholarly articles like I had not done since grad school. Did I mention earlier that teaching scared me... cause it did! So much responsibility, so much paperwork, so many methods!! But once again, God gave me some shut up juice... thanks to my pastor Blake McCain and a sermon on "A Satisfied Soul" from Psalm 63. I was sitting in church listening to his words from God's Word about seeking, praising, meditating and TRUSTING (hello!!) the Lord in order to be satisfied. The whole time I'm thinking of this interview on Monday afternoon and my fear of teaching, and then he put the following verse on the screen: 

"Do not fear or be dismayed; 

tomorrow go out against them, 

for the Lord is with you."

(2 Chronicles 20:17)

Y'all... the verse says tomorrow... the interview was TOMORROW!!!

I mean it's like Jesus was standing there handing me that cup (of previously mentioned shut up juice) and saying "Here you go Kace... drink. it. up."

So... I listen... and I prepare... and I show up. We talked for about an hour and a half, and the offered me the job on the spot. The teaching job... that very specific one I said would be the ONLY one I would take. 

Y'all... (anyone else shaking their head here... I am!)

It has been a whirlwind the past 24 hours... but I accepted the job and as of August 1st will be and ELI Educator at USM. I went and observed classes today, and during four classes interacted with students from ten different countries. The other staff members are so nice and welcoming and now, instead of being afraid of teaching... I'm excited! 

I am, however, sad to be leaving OGLE. I said in my letter to my Dr. Brumfield and Mr. Thomas, "As you know I never planned to be at OGLE, but it is hands down the best detour I've ever had in life." That statement could not be more true... and I'm so thankful to all you wonderful people for taking me in and walking with me in this valley... even though you might not have known about it. Y'all are amazing wonderful people and LCSD is so lucky to have great people like you... OGLE is a gem... and you all make it shine brighter. 

There are lots of lessons that I have learned, and I certainly hope you might glean one for yourself in all this... I thought I had given this situation to God months ago... but obviously I had not fully given it up to Him. If you are struggling through something... humble yourself and admit you need His help. And of course... don't dare God, because He might just deliver! 

Love y'all, 

Kacey 

A vulnerable note...

I just found a note I wrote to myself earlier this spring... and as I read it today I sit here in a much peaceful place. I want to share that note, written from a sad space, but I also want to explain the reason for it: 

In August of 2016 life was grand... then one day, due to no fault of my own or anyone in my district, I lost my job. It's hard to find out that your financial safety net is gone due to the mistakes of those on a more superior (state) level, and you can do nothing to fix it. 

The next day I started a new job, in a place I have come to love with people who are amazing. Over the past (almost) eleven months I have learned a lot from the Admin, teachers, tutors, staff members, and even the kids I work with. My goodness the kids... on the days I was really discouraged those little voices, those little hugs made it a lot better. But that change was intense financially. I took a $2100 per month pay cut. I have had to drastically change my spending habits (essentially gas and groceries only), and to be candid I would not have survived financially without the help of my mother. It has been a humbling, embarassing, vulnerable and enlightening experience. There have been a lot of days that I have felt as useless and insignificant as possible. Finances have always been my biggest concern... and this situation just multiplied that problem, exponentially. 

Since August I have applied for a lot of jobs, and though I have had some great interviews and met some nice people, every door has been shut, some have been slammed. It has been discouraging to say the least to spend eight hours in an interview only to find out you are the second choice (what's that old saying, "Second place is the First loser"... that's what it felt like) for a job that you really wanted. But I continue to pursue opportunities for my future... and I'm thankful that God has had the patience with me throughout this process that I have not always had with him. 

So here is my note I wrote on March 29...

I wish I knew the lesson I still need to learn. For that must be why I've once again entered a valley... 

A valley where I feel like I'm not enough. Second choice. A valley which is an all too familiar place, and one to which I would prefer never to return. For the valleys... they are the places where the devil attempts to steal my joy. I will be honest in saying I question my ability and God's motives. But my Joy... it is not a thing to be taken. My Joy - though sometmies it seems like a small flame, it will always be burning. 

My Joy does not come from me - it was a gift received on the day of my Salvation. It's a gift that always allows me to see the glass half full or the bright side. My Joy is what sets me apart in the valley - maybe that makes me an easier target, but if so... my God is the creator of the arrow, the wind, and the laws of physics.

My God knows my abilities when I doubt them all. 

My God knows my heart - the sad frustrated thing it may currently be... but He created it, and only He can fix it. 

Why do I doubt?Why do I feel insignificant? Why do I feel unwanted?Why do I feel like I'm never going to get out of this valley when I know He has brought me thru them before?...

Because I'm human. Because we're fallen, and because I feel the need/desire to control my situation... remember the words of your daddy, Kacey... " that He is in control, and if I cooperate, life will be better."

I want to cooperate Lord. Give me the desire for Your will and show me how. 

Wow... that was a bad place. But thankfully, I'm not there today. I have been since then... and I could be there tomorrow... but today I'm not. A few nights ago, while in that place I talked to God for a while... I held out the reigns to this situation and gave them to Him. I came to the conclusion that trying to control this situation was obviously not working... therefore why continue making the same mistakes with the same results... I can't hire myself for a job, I can only put myself out there and pursue endeavors I am qualified to pursue. Some might be easy, others (one in particular) are slightly scary... but if He is in control of it, then He will guide the decision... at least I am praying and trusting that He will. 

There are doors opening, as they have before... these may close, I don't know... but I am going to pursue them as He makes them available. 

Love Y'all, 

KC

In his own words...

Eight years ago... life changed. 

If you knew my daddy... you loved him. I don't know that I ever met someone that didn't care for him. Of course I'm partial, but he was a friendly person. He was always present... he listened, he talked... my goodness did he talk. But generally, when he said something... it was generally worth hearing. 

It's sad to me that there are people in my life that will never know him. They will never know his wisdom, his fun personality, his guitar pickin', or his creativity. They will never hear his prayers... they were long, but they were sincere. 

So today I mark another year without him... while thinking of what to post I decided it would be best for you to hear from him. So here is the story of Dane's mandolin. I've walked past this frame a million times in our home, but I don't know that I truly read it until a few weeks ago. This story (a true one of course) shows daddy's character and his voice, and I hope you learn a little bit about him... in his own words. 

Dane's Mandolin

The original owner of this old mandolin is unknown. My knowledhe of its history began soetime in the latter 1920's or early 1930's. As a young boy living in Covington COunty, MS Dane Webster was about 10 years old. Wanting to play music, Dane picked cotton to make $5.00 to buy this mandolin. He walked several miles to buy it from a man that had told him when he got the money he would sell it.

Dane began his pursuit of music with this little instrument. Later on in years he met my Dad, Claude Cole. They had a mutual interest in music so they began to play together. Some of my earliest memories as a child is of me listening to them play old gospel songs on this old mandolin. My Dad learned how to play mandolin on this old Strad - O - Lin. 

I guess it was inevitable that I would follow suit with an interest in music. When I was about 6 or 8 years old my dad had borrowed this mandolin to practice with. I got it out of the closet and tried my hand at playing and "tuning" it as well. When Dad took it out to play it the box ws pulled apart. My "tuning" had ruined the old mandolin. It stayed that way for years. Sometimes I would take it out and guilt would overwhelm me. I was determined to correct my mistake. 

Some of the first money I ever made was spend on having Mr. John Stuart put it back together again. When it was fixed I carried it back to Dane and presented it to him. He was thrilled to be back with an old friend from his past. 

Dane became very sick in the years before his death. When Dad and I would go visit him, sometimes he would hardly know us. The last thing I remember about Dane was his giving the old mandolin back to me. 

I display it with pride in how it was obtained by a little boy with music in his heart, with thankfulness for the understanding shown me when my love for music and desire to learn caused me to destroy its ability to make that music, with satisfaction that I made it right by having it repaired, and with the knowledge that even if we may not be the best instrument God has, even if we've needed repair in the past, and though we now may carry the scars of our past life. Our value to some may be more than we know. 

Dannon Cole 

Lessons in life may come from anywhere. Even old mandolins. 

For the past eight years... I've tried to look for those lessons (the ones that come from anywhere) and learn from them as Daddy always inspired me to do. 

Love y'all, 

Kace

How to you comfort someone walking through a Valley of their own?

How do you react when you see someone traveling thru the same Valley you were in for so long? 

Me, well tears of course because I'm always hyper emotional at this time of year. 

You see, I pose this question because I recently witnessed the tears of another which brought my own. I know the journey she walks as it is a road I have walked myself. I want to hold her hand and tell her everything will be okay... but the truth is it may not be. Now, I am not giving up hope for her and her situation... but I've learned from experience that things don't always turn out how we desire, how we pray, how we plead with God in the doorway of our homes for them to... 

They just don't. 

Because the outcomes that we want... well they aren't always His will.

So how do we react? With tears, empathy, prayers, casseroles and baked goods... 

Those words often said at funerals - you have heard them if you have lost a close loved one...

"They're in a better place."

"They aren't hurting anymore."

"I'm sorry for your loss..." (etc...)

Anyone who has been on the receiving end of those words can tell you... if we're honest... that those words don't help. HOWEVER, the sentiment behind them is what helps to heal. The look of comfort in their eyes. The squeeze of a hand, the hug and the pat on the back... those mechanisms of comforting one another... that's how we react. That's how we try to make it better. 

Does it work? I guess it depends on the person. For me, at the time... No. But in the months and years after I looked back on those hugs, those kind words, and yes even the baked goods as comfort (still to this day, someone brought a coconut pound cake that I think about!). At the deepest valley in my life friends, family, and even strangers did all they knew how to express comfort to me. Just as the Beatitude said, out comfort doesn't just come from the Lord, but also from those He places in our lives. 

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." (Matthew 5:4)

And furthermore, we are instructed in Romans to help bear others' burdens...

"We then, who are strong ought to bear with the scruples of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, leading to edification... For whatever things were written before were written for our learning, that we through the patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope. Now may the God of patience and comfort grant you to be like minded toward one another, according to Christ Jesus, that you may with one mind and one mouth glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," (Romans 15:1-2, 4-6)

Personally, for me... learning from sorrow was very important, and thankfully was encouraged by some close friends. 

"For even if I made you grieve with my letter, I do not regret it—though I did regret it, for I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment!"

(2 Corinthians 7: 8-11)

And then of course, we find the Hope in His Word in Revelation: 

"And God will wipe away ever ear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, 

nor sorrow;  nor crying." (Revelation 21: 4)

So what to we do? We do what we can... whatever the Lord lays on our hearts to do... whether it's prayer or cards or food... share tears or a hug. Join them on the walk through the Valley... you never know when you may be holding them up along the way. 

Love y'all, 

KC

Reflections on a birthday spent in the ER...

I miss sweet tea.

Like seriously... it's been three months since I had a glass of what used to be my favorite drink. I guess it still is... I'm just not allowing myself to have caffeine. Therefore did I mention that I've been leading a decaffeinated life for the last three months? Well, I have... it's been tiring.

For my birthday this year I got a kidney stone. Seriously. My birthday dinner I planned with friends and family turned in to an evening at the ER with 5-10 of my newest medical professional friends. Super nice people really, very efficient at their jobs, but nonetheless not who I wanted to spend my birthday with... on a plus side, my best friend Liz (remember the one who told me to get back to writing) was coming to see me for my birthday and we had planned this fun getaway weekend... so like any good friend she stopped at the CVS and brought me socks and a sports bra to the ER. Rather than the Mexican fiesta I had planned for dinner, I had soup and water. Lots and lots and lots of water.

And them some more water... 

Long story short, our fun weekend out of town got cancelled when rather than driving to the coast I was being fitted for my newest accessory, a stint. Yep, instead of enjoying the view of the beach I was staring at the ceiling of an operating room listening to some Luke Bryan on the radio. Thank goodness for the anesthesia because I was in a precarious position and thanks to the juice I couldn't care less.

So back to the sweet tea. Due to the fact that the type of stone I had (which was eventually removed during a procedure a few weeks later), can be caused by caffeine... I cut it out cold turkey. Thankfully I was on pain meds for the kidney stone, therefore cold turkey wasn't so bad. But truthfully, and some may think this is stupid, but I feel a little less southern now that my favorite beverage is off my menu.

Like seriously, can I have some water with my fried chicken or barbecue? That's just not right...

That's like drinking a glass of wine with a taco... 

Or a margarita with your Kung pow chicken... 

It's. Just. Not. Right.

But alas, I'm choosing the hope of never having another kidney stone over my favorite drink... and even though it chips away at my southern identity just a little bit, it's for the best. I hope.

I guess it's like insurance for my kidneys... something like that.

So... where is the lesson in this you might ask? Since generally I try to make these posts have a point rather than just a humorous story about a horrible birthday. Well... despite how much I miss it... I know it was good for me. Why? Because I've lost 10 pounds and literally the only thing I've changed about my diet is getting rid of sweet tea and caffeine. But also, it's the reminder that just because something is attributed to a quality of myself that I like (I'm a proud Southerner y'all), it doesn't mean that is where my identity lies. This actually reminds me of the advice my Pawpaw Cole gave to me the day before I left for my study abroad semester in Mexico.

"Remember who you are, what you are, 

and where you're from."

Now I know those statements can me translated differently for every person. Some may perceive it more literally than others, and ultimately the answer changes over time.

So who are you? How do you fill in those blanks? No matter what you feel your identity might be wrapped up in (the sweet tea example), I think these questions really get to your core. Take some time to evaluate your answer. See if you like them... if you don't, why not? I think what my grandfather was getting at with that statement is, what guides your decisions? Who are you responsible to for your actions? It's worth pondering y'all... so grab a glass of tea (I'll settle on some lemonade) or your beverage of choice and think about it.

Sincerely yours,
Kacey
(Daughter/sister/friend/dog mom, Christian, and South Mississippian)

More posts coming soon...

My best friend (Liz) told me a few days ago that I should write a book. A book about who knows what… but a book nonetheless. So I started thinking… what would I write about that people would actually care to read? I mean yes, my occasional Instagram or Facebook post gets a lot of likes of comments, but are those things people would make a point to read? I usually just write when I get annoyed or emotional about something, more so the latter. I blogged a good but after daddy died. It was therapeutic. I was able to write out all the things I wanted to say… some to him, some to God… but ultimately they were just emotions I needed to release and lessons I hoped someone else might learn from. It’s been a while since I blogged… I’m not sure why, it’s not that the lessons have stopped coming, though I think I am harder of hearing to God’s will than I once was (That's a post in and of itself). 

If I’m honest with myself I’m in a rut… whatever that is, but it’s what people say, right? My personal life is fine (read: boring), but my professional life is, well… it’s an eleven month lesson in who knows what. My dating life is non-existent, and the amount of adventure in my day to day revolves around 11 cows, 2 horses, 2 dogs, and an ancient donkey named Jake (and yes they all have names). Seriously though, I spend as much time with them as I do people, except I don’t have to pick up people’s poop, which is part of barn chores. Yes it is still gross... I'm just immune to it now. 

Most days... 

So – I guess I could write about a lot of different things. Single Life. Farm life. Life with Rhett. Sports, cooking, decorating, traveling (which I rarely do anymore). Hopes, dreams, aspirations. Goals and plans. Valleys and Mountaintops. The journey from the Valley to the Mountaintop… those are the most important lessons, in my opinion.

I've got a lot of time off this summer, so I guess we shall see what is on my mind… 

When God makes your burden heavier...

Generally speaking, I'm a pretty calm individual. I try my best not to get stressed or worried, because often times there is nothing I can do to solve those worrisome issues. I have, over the past year, developed on major area of concern... And it is the very adult concern of finances. 

You see, I'm not trying to buy a new car or going on an amazing vacation (though of course those things would be nice). I'm just trying to pay my credit card bills and get out of debt. Honestly, I have barely made it month to month since adding a mortgage to my monthly expenses without using my credit card, hence the credit card bills. So, when recently that burden was compounded by losing my job due to budget cuts in the state, well... That increased that burden by -$15.25 per hour. 

(Now let me please add, I'm thankful for the job I have been given in order to keep my insurance... And if the pay was comparable to my previous job, the burden would not be so heavy.)

When I finally broke down and had a good cry about this tonight, after a month, I realize that I know the answer... God is using this situation to MAKE me rely on Him. And even though I know, I KNOW that He has got a plan for me... I still whine and cry and don't understand... I mean really y'all, sometimes I wish I could just throw human nature out the window.... Or flip that switch to where I'm only spiritually minded for that time being! Gosh wouldn't that save me some tears and  truthfully a few bad words. 

So I know what I should be doing, and how I should be prayerfully focused, but then I start creeping back to those dark times a few years ago... post Daddy's death and pre- moving back home. Those were times when I felt rather unsatisfied in life, though I was completely being Blessed by God in many ways and too ignorant to see it. 

I can't be the only one that has been there... It's like a pity party that you only invite God too and then He is like... Hey... Shut up... I've got you! 

Well, fast forward a few years and I was back there tonight. Not a proud moment, lots of Why Mes and some tears. And then... As always, there is this little voice in my head reminding me of why I felt this way or that way before, and what I learned from it. Then there is the biblical lesson from the "Why Mes" of the bible... God uses our bad days, our struggles, our leprosy (shout out to you Simon the Leper from last week's bible study)... FOR HIS GLORY. He will heal us, pick us up, guide us... In His time. 

Oh goodness Kace... (Yes this is me talking to myself) don't you remember that He brought you through all those valleys before?! He will do it again, and again, and again... If you trust in Him more than yourself. 

Oh ye of little faith... That's so me sometime. God has you... Just try and be patient. Be thankful for the lessons along the way... Appreciate the people you meet and the paths you cross. 

Wait. Pray. Seek. 

A letter to my daddy...

I've been really quiet today, alone at home most of the day avoiding the subject of the day. I just have not had the words today, honestly don't know if I want to find them. Finding them and processing them makes it real... Again. Another Father's Day means another year without him. How can 7 years have passed without him?? I don't know the answer to that. Sometimes it seems like forever, other days it seems like yesterday. 

As I sat and thought today, I thought about how his presence in my life has changed. How my emotions of changed... How I've changed. 

-----

Dear Daddy, 

I don't cry as much as I used to... I'm crying now, but it is no longer a daily occurrence as it used to be. 

Instead of missing you all day, I miss you in small moments, when things remind me of you, or something you said, or something you did. Sometimes I get a whiff of dirt and grass, or oil, and those smells remind me of you after a hard day's work. 

I hear your voice in my head and it no longer surprises me... It's comforting. There are times when I call out to you and ask for your advice and hear nothing... But other times when I don't know I need to hear from you, but I do.

There are times when I don't know what to do about something or HOW to do something, and though I might consult the "destructions" as you called them (instructions), I always think about how or what you would do. Sometimes that results in a completed project, other times I might have some parts left over... 

There are times when the morning of June 20 comes to mind and I try to push the thoughts as far away as possible. I don't like to relive those last moments, though I'm sure there is a reason God brings them to my mind. Mom and I talked about it the other day, evidently I screamed, I remember that Shane fell to his knees as mom honored your wishes... and most of the rest is a blur. I do remember the words I whispered to you, and I know you must have heard them. 

I hate this day. For us it was the beginning of life without you... For you it was the beginning of Eternity with Him. I know that is what you would want me to focus on, and I try to... But I miss you daddy, I miss you all the time. 

I will go days without thinking about you... Well, not without thinking about you, but without thinking of you as gone.  Maybe that's a blessing... You're always here... your voice, your words, your personality, your attitude... It permeates me. 

I have SO much of you in me. The most wonderful compliment I've ever received is that I remind someone of you. Oh! If only I could be as good as you, as wise as you, as caring and kind as you! You are my example of how to love and treat others. Though we live in a crazy world with a lot of hate and confusion, I know without question that your example would be to love and share God's love with everyone you meet. 

Oh how I wish everyone could have known you!! I even wish you knew Rhett. You might not like that he is asleep on the couch right now, but you would love him... I know it. One day I'll hopefully meet a man like you... what an answer to prayer that would be. If I could find a husband who was just a little like you, it would be a wonderful thing... I only hope that I will be able to compel to him what an amazing person you were, you will always be to me. 

I still laugh at you. I don't even remember what it was but I was laughing about something you said/did the other day with mom... And those moments, those memories are salve for our broken hearts daddy... I need those moments... I know mom and Shane do too. 

We miss you so much, in our own ways, but we do. I hope you would be proud of us... Today when I was cleaning the barn I thought about you, and how I hope you would be proud of how mom has kept up the place and I've tried to help since I've been home. I know we haven't always made the best decisions, but we have done our best... 

My words fail me now, which was something you never had a problem with... Just another thing I'm thankful that you left behind. Thank you for being the best daddy... I love you always, I miss you till I see you again... Happy Father's Day. 

Love you, 

Kace 

Easter Reality/Spirituality Check

Easter is in 4 days... And while Christians understand the symbolism and sanctity of this day has nothing to do with eggs and bunnies, I found a reality check for us in my Bible reading last night. 

So many times in thinking of Easter, more importantly thinking of Good Friday, we focus more on the empty tomb than the occupied Cross. But the tomb doesn't matter without the Cross... Borrowed or brand new, without the death of Jesus there is no need for the tomb. Here's the truth in my opinion... From my perspective anyway: we don't focus on the Cross or Good Friday because that's the gory, sad, depressing part of the story. And the most depressing part... 

... Because it's my fault He had to die. 

... It's your fault He had to die. 

... We caused His death.

Now as we all know... He knew the deal, He knew the way the story would end, He knew the cup wouldn't pass from Him, He knew Judas would betray him from the moment they met, He knew all of that... 

... And He still went thru with it. 

.

..

...

....

.......

Sometimes there just aren't words to describe His willingness not to sacrifice for me, but TO BE the sacrifice for me. In my 32 years I have sometime had a hard time grappling with the significance of that on my individual life... But a verse I read last night gave me the reality check I needed: 

In chapter 16 of Deuteronomy God is continuing to give instructions for Festivals, Passovers, etc... In my One Year bible reading plan I've been reading a lot of the less exciting books of the bible... Yes I said it... The books that include lineage and laws... and lots of them. The Old Testament is a lot of things, but legalistic is definitely one of the words I would use to describe it. God was EXTREMELY particular in his instruction to the Israelites regarding buildings, paths, tents, feasts, and particularly sacrifices. And this verse 17 is no different... But here is the reality check. 

How is it possible?? 

How is it possible to bring a gift to The Lord that is "in proportion to the way The Lord your God has blessed you."

I'm no theologian, but here is my answer... It's not possible. 

And this is one if the many reasons why the Cross matters so much... There is nothing I could make, purchase, grow or raise that would be REMOTELY proportionate to what God has blessed me with as He requested. 

Jesus became the New Testament physical sacrifice which removed us (you, me, and the modern world), from the requirements of the Old Testament physical sacrifice. 

Think about it... 

What could you possibly bring to God that would cover even some of your blessings??  I've been blessed immeasurably in this life... Even thru the valleys, God blessed me. Even when I yelled at Him and didn't go to church because I was mad because He took my daddy... He still blessed me. It's just. Not. Possible. 

... It's also not required... Not anymore.

Not after the Jesus... and certainly not after Cross. 

... And I sure am thankful for that (oh look, there is another blessing!)!! 

Love y'all, 

Kacey 

I cried today...

There is a picture of Daddy and Pawpaw Cole on my desk at work. Sometimes people who come in ask who they are, and most times it's a conversation which occurs without tears. But today... Today was different. Not because of who asked or because today is some significant day, but because the person who asked is in a sad situation. His wife is sick with pancreatic cancer among other things. 

Ultimately that picture opened the door for me to talk to Mr. Irving about God, about sorrow and dealing with death (the good, bad, and ugly of it)... I told him about how swiftly the leukemia and pneumonia changed our lives ... How I didn't go to church for months because I was mad at God. But the part that made me cry were daddy's own words. It's a story I've told a hundred times, but today, knowing that Mr. Irving a walking through this Valley with his wife and family, it brought me to tears. 

After my friend Rose died in June of 2005, daddy told me that "God is a jealous God, and when He is done with you on earth and wants you back, He's going to take you." That one statement, which was annoying to me at the time because I was sad and upset, came back to me tenfold after he died. The realization that we don't belong to each other, our parents/ kids/ spouse/ family or friends... That we belong to God... Therefore He is just collecting his own. 

Sorrow is such and individual thing... And we all deal differently, but some times, God allows those shared conversations to happen so understandings can be found amongst people.

Tonight at Blast we began the story of Jonah. And our memory verse is quite appropriate to my interaction with Mr. Irving. The lesson was about Refuge...

Nahum 1:7 The Lord is good,a stronghold in a day of distress;He cares for those who take refuge in Him. 

So please friends pray for sweet Mr. Irving's wife... For him... For their family and the doctors that treat her. Pray that they continue to take Refuge in The Lord. 

Love y'all, 

Kacey 

Bedroom updates...

Most people who do renovations want a big Master bedroom with a walk in closet, or at least that's the impression I get from HGTV. I, however, chose the smallest room in the house for my bedroom. I only sleep in my bedroom, so it was a natural choice for me... To use the larger rooms for other things. 

I couldn't find any "before" pictures of the bedroom, but it was a purely cosmetic renovation. We removed the carpet and refinished the hardwood, and painted the walls, ceiling, and trim. I also added a new ceiling fan. 

This picture cut off the ceiling, but as I said... It's the smallest room! Like all the other rooms, the paint color is Allen+Roth "Shaken not Stirred" from Lowes. The dresser and bed have been in this house for as long as I can remember, they just moved rooms. The bed was Pap's (great grandfather) and was the bed I would always sleep in when I spent the night with my grandparents. 

The big challenge in this room was installing curtain rods. Y'all- I had to repent multiple times from the frustration I felt while trying to drill holes in wood that has been there for who knows how long!! Eventually I got the curtain rods 80% installed (some screws are a bit loose, and a few brackets were nailed in...) and put up blackout curtains (which really don't serve their purpose when Rbett sticks his head thru them at 7am every morning. 

I created some artwork with a quote from my Daddy, and notes from one of my Pastor's (Blake McCain) sermons that challenged me. 

There are two special photos in my bedroom, a picture of me and Daddy that I love, even though the wind had my hair looking rough! Te other photo is my grandmother Verna and her sister Ivloy. Thy are so young and happy in the photo, it just makes me smile when I see it!! 

So that's it for the bedroom! Say tuned for more updates!! 

Love y'all! 

Kacey 

The best investment in the house...

This small little box with bright blue screen shows a big, and very expensive change in the house... 

It's Central heating and Air y'all! 

Prior to the renovation, 2 gas heaters, 2 window units, and a few ceiling fans controlled the temperature in the house. When it was cold it was cold, and during the summer... Well it could be miserable. Now... It's just one more thing that adds to the comfort of the house! 

Decor wise the hallway contains artwork I be purchased or photos I've taken on trips. There is art from Ukraine, Honduras, Mexico, and Guatemala, as well as photos I took in Washington DC. The hallway also received update crown molding and baseboards as well as new lighting. 

A place for guests...

The guest room was a debate for me, which space to use... I had two rooms for options but decided kind of late in the game to make it the front bedroom off the living room. Convenient for guests but also has a lot of natural light. It's the room I slept in when I spent the night with my grandparents, which was usually once a week as a child!  

I couldn't find great "before" picture, but just imagine orange shag carpet, paneled walls, and really old old furniture. When the orange carpet was removed we found this flowered layer of rug/carpet that was a complete surprise!! I saved part of it and framed it so some of the original and surprising texture stays in the room. 

Also below the layer of carpet and flowered rug was beautiful wood floors!! Behind the wood paneling was beautiful wood walls! This picture shows the room after the walls were painted white and the floor was sanded. 

Those were the main changes in the room, which I've given a Mississippi theme! Here are some more after photos! 

One of my most prized possessions is in this room! In front of the bed there is a trunk which is covered in one of my grandmothers quilts. The trunk is my great grandfather, Charlie "Pap" Robertson's WW1 trunk!! It's full of so much military and family history that you can look through for hours! I'm so proud to be the keeper of these family treasures!

Rhett loves this room. Generally if I'm looking for him he can be found laying on the bed enjoying all the sunlight! 

There are a few repurposed and special items in this picture. The brown table was my great grandmother Ruth Robertson's and the brown chair was an old one daddy found and had recovered with an animal skin for a seat.  Above the table is a picture of Pawpaw Cole's navy class (not sure if that's the correct term)... It's the meanest looking picture of him I've ever seen... But it's a sweet memory! The hats are Pawpaws also. 

The blue shelf is a point of contention between my mom and I! It was an old white cabinet mawmaw and pawpaw Cole had in their house. It was rusted, and I found some cheap blue spray paint at Dirt Cheap. I love it and mom hates it... On the shelf are some pictures I bought in Oxford, some books on Mississippi, and a special gift from my best friends in college.

These side tables are special to me because they were a gift from my best friend Liz Alexander's family. They belonged to her grandfather Mr. Travis and I'm honored to have a piece of the Farish home in mine. The books on the table are by Mississippi authors Welty, Faulkner, and Morris and the clock was purchased from The Mustard Seed in Oxford which is my FAVORITE store! The table also includes a picture from the Rebels win at the Compass Bowl in Birmingham!  

This bedroom never had a door on it before, and I knew that would be necessary for the comfort of guests! I found this old wooden door in the barn and had the contractors hang it for me! My favorite part of the door is the glass doorknob (see below)! 

So... The guest room is ready for anyone who wants to visit!! 

From pink and floral to black and white!!

The bathroom is probably the biggest change in the house! It was a complete gut job. It was the only room in the house that we took down to studs. Floral pink panelling, a pink tub, pink toilet, and pink bathtub were removed to make way for a white soaker tub, new toilet, and built I vanity. 

For the updates I wanted a fresh feeling, but something appropriate to the era of the home. I chose a simple white subway tile for the tub surround/shower and a black and white tile (that I adore!) for the floor. I'm using yellow accents and have created some artwork of encouraging quotes for the bathroom. 

The wall color is the same gray in the rest of the house, but the cabinets are "belltowerstone stone" which is my little ode to Samford University! I'm really happy with the way this turned out! It's cozy, pretty, and much more functional!! 

Meals and memories made here!

Let me just come out and state the obvious... I like food. But not just because it tastes good, but because food is a powerful tool in developing community, supporting others, and making memories. Anyone who has ever taken a covered dish to a grieving family or spent time under a tent at a tailgate falls into those categories. 

Not much had to be improved in the kitchen. Like the rest of the house it got new floors and a paint job. I also bought a new refrigerator and updated some plumbing. The biggest changes were the hammered stainless steel countertops as well as the white subway tile backsplash that was installed by Brooke and Ronald Lofton... Two great friends who were kind enough to spend several Sunday afternoons in my kitchen. One detail that I added just because I liked it was the contact paper wallpaper inside the cabinets. I'm personally a big fan of that small touch. 

I have a sign on the wall in the kitchen that states "meals and memories are made here" and I think that's so true. I fondly remember a lot of meals and recipes coming from that kitchen, as well as the high-pitched squeak of the utensil drawer and the chirp of Mawmaw Cole's bird clock which I relocated to the laundry room. It's really hot in there... there's really not much ventilation and there is not an exhaust fan over the stove. I used to wonder why my grandmother would always come out of the kitchen sweating but now I know. My grandparents also always used butter dishes as Tupperware. I thought it was a little funny but made sense, and is very economical. No matter what your meal was served in, whether it be an antique heirloom or butter dishes, it was always something warm always something yummy and always something available to eat while you visited. I've begun to try some recipes that are old family recipes as well as recipes from church cookbook and I'm enjoying spending time perfecting meals that were created by my great-grandmother or meals that were created by women in the church I admire.  I'm slowly learning those different recipes and hoping to try out a lot of them in the future so if you want to come over for dinner just let me know and I'll find something new in the cookbook! 

My great grandmothers chocolate pound cake recipe... It was one of the most delicious things I've ever cooked!

40 days of thoughts... Starting with the house.

A lot of people have asked me to post pictures and updates of the renovations of the house and for some reason I've hesitated on that... thinking the house isn't clean enough or I haven't quite got a picture put where I wanted to go.  But ultimately I have been living here for over two months and so this house has definitely become home. 

I'm not finished with everything I still have to do some electrical work in the laundry room and replace a door and window that leaked one horrible Thursday night but it's comfortable and it is warm thanks to the newly installed and highly expensive central heating and air!  I joke about the expense, but I think that's one of the things that my grandparents, great-grandparents, and my dad would be proud of... that it is comfortable. People can walk in the door do not have to shed clothes because it's hot or pile on the wood on the fire because it's cold.  It's a cozy house, and I hope (as hopefully some of you will see) it's welcoming. 

 I decided that for Lent I wanted to write a blog every day for 40 days. I've been thinking of blogs on a daily basis,

I just never write them down.  However I thought that this would be a good plan... I could update whoever reads this and whoever wants to see what I've done with the house over the next 40 days.  I can also post thoughts on experiences and memories, and since it's kind of therapy for me I guess I'll be having a daily therapy session for the next 40 days.

Today I decided to start with the entry of the house,  the Gallery. Pawpaw Cole nicknamed it that at some point in time...

I don't know when, don't know why, but it caught on. The gallery has been for many many many years and several generations a gathering place for coffee, for talks, for food, and for watching bad weather or cars go by.  To me it's a central part of the home. A house is not a home without a front porch in my opinion and mine just happens have a good title. Renovation wise not much happened to the gallery. We replaced a few rotting boards and the whole house got a coat of paint to freshen it up.  I made a few little signs "welcome to the gallery" and the "gallery rules" but other than that and the few extra chairs it's still got mamaw's Rocking chair and of course pawpaw's swing (that would crash one day - I had to fix that with help from Uncle Terry). I did plant a few flowers (hopefully things that won't die) of Rosemary because it smells good and it reminds me a little bit of Samford which was my home for's almost 7 years. That is really about all the renovations for the gallery but ultimately as long is it so warm and inviting (well I guess inviting because today it was really cold) that's all that matters. 

Today I came home little early and Rhett started barking while staring out a window (not unusual). When I looked out the window I saw these two guys in black pants, white shirt, and black jacket walking down the road. Now I don't live in a neighborhood so it's not really normal for someone to be walking down the road, much less in dress pants and loafers!  I figured they are probably some Mormon missionaries and I was right. At first I didnt want to deal with those guys... but then I remembered from some missionaries I've met previously that these are just really young guys that are away from home and doing what they feel called to do. So when they knocked I open the door and Rhett immediately begin sniffing and playing with them! I invited them to have a seat and got them a Gatorade and we sat on the porch and talk for a little while. I asked them where they were from, how old they were and  these two kids are 18 and 19 years old one from Utah one from California. City boys walking around Lamar County roads just trying to meet people and pray with him. So we sat and talked for a little while and they told me about their mission and where they had been and how long they were away from home. I was able to share with them some mission trips I've been on and just we talked about different opportunities that God put in our paths and how we use them and how is we always should take advantage of those opportunities and learn from them.

 I was struck by how young they are. In talking to them they're just babies! I mean the one kid graduated high school in May/June and immediately left his family for two years! I asked them how often they're able to contact their families and they said they can call them on Christmas and they can call their moms on Mother's Day, but other than that just  email. I just can't even imagine that... I have friends on the mission field all over the world but they are able to face time or Skype to keep in touch with their families. These guys are on a strict regimen and part of that is mandated by the church (I guess) but also (I assume) they have an option or maybe they have the opportunity to do something else. I asked them if they thought about what they wanted to major in when they eventually went to college and they didn't know ... so I just gave them a little advice.  I hope they got some encouragement from that little conversation on the gallery today. I posted on Facebook about this experience and I just really hope that we will all think about that a little bit more when these kids come knock on our doors. They offered me a Book of Mormon and asked to pray with me. I accepted both. Though I don't agree with their theology, I respected their sharing. Frankly a lot of us Christians wouldn't do it... we wouldn't pick up and leave our families for two years at age 18 of all things and just go wherever you're sent to walk a street and pass out Bibles and  pray with people. I told those guys that I admired them for what they do and they seem pretty surprised by that... but I really do. I think it is impressive what they're doing, taking two years to leave home and to just walk and talk to people.   My friends who are missionaries live in other countries where they preach and they teach. Central to all that though... is just walking and talking which is what these guys are doing. 

When I started renovating the house and after I was given the house (which is the ultimate blessing)  my prayer for the house was just that it would be a welcoming place.  Pawpaw Cole once told me ;before I went to study abroad in Mexico) to "remember who you are, what you are, and where you're from. I remembered the words but I didn't realize the meaning until days later. No matter where in this life I go... I'm Kacey Cole, I'm a Christian, and I'm from right here and Midway. I'll never be anything else... I may add to that list, but at the core that's me. No matter who you are, or where you're from... I want people to feel comfortable and feel welcome when they come to my home and visit me on the Gallery.