worth waking up for

For the past week I’ve slept with a sleeping mask on. I read recently in some over-informational health magazine that sleeping with a mask enables you to drift into a deeper sleep in a shorter amount of time- creating more complete rest and an increased amount of energy throughout the day. Naturally, a satin, Tiffany’s-blue mask was soon a welcomed addition to my nighttime routine in Arizona. Sadly though, the mask was greeted by quite the condescending chuckle when I got to see my husband this weekend. I believe his exact words were, “what are you, eighty?” (NO- in fact- when we’re actually eighty I’m going to look sixty because of all the great sleep I’ve gotten using my beauty sleep mask!) Regardless of its function or aid in my night’s sleep, I wake up unaware of the morning, the light, and the promise that bursts through the window until I remove the mask from my eyes.  When it’s off, my eyes squint and work hard to adjust, like the first few steps outside the movie theater after seeing a matinée . And even though the mask made for a comfortable and needed night’s sleep, it’s the awakening that I most look forward to.


Easter was yesterday. Never has this holiday seemed to mean more or move me more deeply than this year. Maybe it was because I spent it in Chicago where the hope of spring is more tangible than the morning newspaper. And even though there are days that do not make sense for the end of April (40 degrees and rainy,) I develop a very short-term memory when the sun beats down and the breeze carries summer promise. Or maybe it was because I spent it with my family. We all seem to be making tremendous life-decisions lately and there is this beautiful, unspoken understanding when we gather for a holiday knowing where each member has been and where he/she is going that demands a grace-filled, grateful heart. Or maybe it’s because with each new year I live and breathe on this earth, I mature in my knowledge of what really went on 2000 years ago on a cross, in a tomb, on real soil and in heaven.  Christ awoke from a sleep not many get to brag they awake from. What others thought to be an endless sleep of death was cut short by the power only possible through God on the third day. He woke up, he sat up, he walked around and saw his friends. His wounds were fresh and his heart was rested- for it was finished. His profoundly-perfect purpose was complete on earth, and for the first time I pictured what it would be like to look into the eyes of a resurrected savior. With soggy eyes I think of my own completion, made possible by this one act from a man I get to call my friend.


For too long now I’ve had a mask over my eyes when it comes to the significance of this day. Jesus awoke and his lungs filled with breath on Easter so he could breathe the breath of life into me. Only when I choose to know Him do I awake to the possibility and potential of this life. And only when I awake to the power, grace, and love at my disposal are my crusty, sleep-filled eyes opened to the greater purpose He has for me. Easter awakens years of mundane lives. It makes new of old habits. It puts power behind scary leaps of faith, and it completes our messy, broken, over-slept lives. But the best news is, with a creator like God and a savior like Jesus, Easter can happen      every      single    day.        And that’s something worth waking up for.

soul cravings

I spent the past weekend in Laguna Beach, California. Salty ocean smells and sweet, sea breezes lifted my spirit and hugged every inch of my frame. The beach magically lengthens thoughts, muscles and time in a way that shouts of the realities of heaven.  My body and my mind left refreshed and rejuvenated. But something deeper went on. Something so important and often tragically forgotten. My soul was replenished.

I took time to notice the divine beauty that lives, breathes and thrives all around us. I crunched my feet into the sand and wiggled my toes until they were buried. I looked deeply into the eyes of my sisters and thought intentionally about how valuable friendships are.  I had conversations with complete strangers. I gave things away and acquired new treasures and didn’t care if I doubled up on bowls of cereal.  I slept in and walked slowly and laughed… a lot.

What’s the condition of your soul lately?

(Not how are you doing? What’s new with you? Or even how are you feeling?)

How’s your soul?

The deepest parts of me are set free when I allow my soul to be moved and to give in to its cravings. I have soul cravings that liberate me to be more ‘kristin’ than I have ever experienced before. I know some of them and I’m still discovering others.  But here’s a few of mine. Hopefully my list can trigger a soul craving in you.

-Sitting outside by myself so I can talk with God without feeling the urge or necessity to carry on any other conversation.

-Stretching every single muscle until I feel like a walking noodle.

-Riding a beach cruiser bike with a basket in the front when it’s sunny and breezy.

-Taking part in a sunset along any body of water. Anywhere. Any day. Ever.

-Discovering something in depth about someone I love and loving them more for it.

So even though I am not carrying a tiny Stockfisch bun in my oven, I have cravings. These soul cravings can speak more life into me than any composition of words ever could. Our souls were created to be our life source. When we pay attention to them and give in to what our souls crave, we become more than a life… we learn what it means to be alive. What does your soul crave? If you’re anything like me, you will find that even through the stretching, the bike rides and the sunsets the one common thread through the tapestry of my soul is that it craves my creator. It craves my God, my savior, my author and perfector.  And it is only when I find Him in the midst of life’s goodness that I truly begin to live.

something new

Something amazing happened this week. Sure, it happens every day in every part of the world—but it's not every day it happens in your own family. This week, we celebrated the birth of a beautiful baby girl, my niece, Bayley Joy Blackburn.

Bayley’s birth is special for a lot of reasons. She was an unexpected five weeks early, and her mom went through a lot in the days leading up to her arrival. But when she finally made her appearance after an emergency C-section on Wednesday night, she was 5 lbs, 19 inches long, and amazingly healthy! We all expected her to go right to the NICU, but instead we got to watch through the nursery window as her dad held her proudly, smiling like had had never smiled before.

Many of you know exactly what this moment feels like, to hold your own child for the first time. Not being a mommy yet, I can’t imagine how amazingly profound it must be when something so small takes your breath away. But as I looked at tiny little Bayley, her little nose, little fingers, little lips, it struck me in such a powerful way how incredibly beautiful new life is.

If you have read my entries the past two weeks, it is no secret how discontent I have felt with myself, with my role in the world, and with the loss, pain and desperation we all live in the midst of. On a global level, I am struck utterly speechless when my eyes are opened to the terrible things people I know— and people I don’t know— are really living through. And on a personal level, I have been humbled day after day as the motives of my heart have been brought to light, and as I’ve seen how the myopic tendencies of my life affect people I love. The best word I can come up with to describe living in my world the past few weeks is “depressing.”

And then came Bayley… innocent, vulnerable, precious, new…

Bayley reminded me that our God is the God of new life. He does not allow us to sit in the brokenness of the world and the selfishness of our own life too long. I felt like he put this little girl right in front of me and said, “Katie, I’m still here, I’m still moving and working and living and loving in this world. You have to notice me. You have to embrace what is hard and still rejoice. You have to remember that I am still making all things new…”

So, dear Bayley Joy, thank you for coming to this world and into my life right on time. Believe it or not, I needed you. Your little nose, little fingers, and little lips show me how big our God is. Bayley, with no words at all, you told me that God’s work is never done, and He is never done amazing us with his goodness. In the midst of everything that is so hard to look at about ourselves and our world, we can’t take our eyes off of you.

My prayer is that each of us start believing with new passion how wonderful God is, and that we believe this even in the hard, the pain, the tears, the broken… and we cling to the promise that something beautiful is just around the corner.

Now, go tell someone something new and wonderful about life- your words might be right one time.