peace

When It Rains

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

For the last 3-4 weeks my life has felt like a constant Monday. That is honestly the best way I can describe it. It’s been a steady struggle and honestly pretty overwhelming. For someone who seeks bliss on the regular it’s been particularly tough to be in a storm.

“And chaos calls to chaos, below the waterfalls. All your waves crash over me, I’m crushed beneath it all.”

They always say “when it rains, it pours,” and I’d have to say that’s pretty darn accurate. But I’m not going to let the rain get me down anymore. Because sometimes the rain means we can wear cute little boots and pull out our adorable umbrellas and get through it just okay. In fact, rain is often a good thing. Rain washes away all of those nasty allergens that have been building up, it helps things like plants grow, and it creates puddles for little kids and puppies to have fun in. So why do we always make the pouring down rainstorms in life a bad thing?

“But sorrow as my company, I fix my eyes on You, soon again I’ll praise your name and feel my soul renewed.”

Don’t get me wrong, that’s what I’ve been doing, but I should probably stop.

You see, this past weekend brought a glimpse of the sun shining down in the midst of my rainy Mondays. It’s kind of ironic, because today has legitimately been a rainy Monday, but it was the first one in weeks that hasn’t felt that way. I guess the cool thing about the sun beginning to shine through the rain is that typically it creates a rainbow-which is so beautiful. I mean, if you really think about it, it’s something magical to see streams of colors running through the sky in the midst of the ugly, nasty weather. We often lose sight of that beauty when our life is in the midst of a storm, but I am realizing that it is there.

“A traveler never reaches that Sacred place alone, a light to always guide you along the narrow road.”

So “let your Monday be short and your coffee be strong,” and know that the sun is actually always there. Sometimes you can’t see it, and sometimes the storms are just too strong, but something beautiful always comes from the mess.

Today I am going to fully embrace my rainy Monday and pick my head up, because it’s not worth it to let the build up of things get me down. Life is too important for that.

Happy Monday, friends! Keep on keeping on.

“So steadily I keep my stride through every briar and thorn, although my flesh will falter, my hope is in the Lord. Because I know, I know you remain the same, even in, even in my wandering.”

 

 

S l o w D o w n

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

rest

We always read that busyness is glorified, but I don’t understand why. I am truly a busy person and I wouldn’t glorify it at all-in fact, I would knock it. I bounce around from being a full-time business owner, a full-time wife and mom to our puppy, to working a part-time job, working birthday parties on the occasion, and then giving the rest of my free time to volunteering next to my husband as he works in a Church. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love all that I do.

But man am I busy. I am so busy, in fact, that I have quickly realized in all of the things that I do I don’t do one simple thing-focus on myself-at all. In the book I’m reading, “Grace not Perfection,” one of the chapters spoke on making sure you are filling up your own well, and it hit the nail on the head with where I stand in life. Emily Ley pointed out in her book that God calls us to “love our neighbor as ourself,” and that we so often look at that verse as loving our neighbor but that we often forget to love ourselves. She pointed out that if you are someone who struggles to serve yourself then you should look at that verse and say, “If I was loving my neighbor as I love MYSELF, I wouldn’t be loving them very well.” 

That resonated with me a whole lot because in the midst of all I do I really, TRULY do not serve myself. That’s why this year my New Year’s Resolutions had to do with things I actively need to work on to fill my own well-to serve myself. 

Dance With Fear and Invest in Rest.

Rest is why I’m here today. I realized that filling my tank and resting means finding things to do that I enjoy and feel refreshed from, so here I sit, writing down my thoughts for anyone to read but really for myself to understand. I have spent so much of my life going and going and going that rest feels like I am shorting myself, and that is so broken. After days where I actually invest in rest I often feel like I wasted my day because I too often put my worth in feeling successful. 

But recently something happened. 

I fractured my foot. I know it sounds weird to hear this and even for me to say this, but it’s honestly kind of a blessing. Instead of feeling down about the fact that once again I am stuck in the boot (I played soccer for a very long time and had a lot of ankle injuries), I can focus on the fact that for the first time in a while I am being FORCED to rest. I have recently spent so much of my time jumping from one place to the next that I have absolutely exhausted myself. That’s so unhealthy, so if you’re reading this and you’re in the same place, JUST STOP AND BREATHE. Because that’s definitely what I needed to do.

You see, we so often define perfect as being busy. Why is that? What is it about being busy that appeases people? Why does running around exhausting yourself make you look successful?

It’s not worth feeling successful to run yourself ragged. My husband constantly reminds me of that.

So I am going to take this fracture and go with it. I am going to allow it to let me slow down and while it feels justified to rest I am going to work on changing my mindset.

I am going to learn how to say no to things because overbooking myself is what is leaving me feeling so exhausted all of the time.

I am going to focus on  s l o w i n g  d o w n  and serving myself so I can love more fully.

And most of all, I am going to remind myself that life isn’t about chasing perfect, it’s about finding bliss.

I was, but I am not

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

“Kat, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I replied as tears welled up in my eyes.

“That’s not true. I need to go to my office, walk with me.”

I’m trying to hold them back, but I’m not successful.

We get to Jesse’s office:

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“I just need to cry it out.”

“Okay baby,” He says as he pulls me in tight. He knows that physical touch is my number one.

I sobbed. I cried so hard I couldn’t control it anymore. That’s when I looked up at him and said:

“I can’t keep pretending I’m okay.”

“I know you’re not, baby, but you will be. I know you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel right now, but it’s there, I promise. YOU will be okay. WE will be okay.”

and now, I am okay.

You see, I let things build. They pile up until I can’t take it anymore, and then that happens.

I just lose it.

I wish I could tell you what was going on, and why I was so broken in that moment, but it is still an ongoing situation, so I can’t post quite yet what is truly going on, but just know that you can ask me in person and I will definitely tell you, it just can’t be out there fully right now.

But let me tell you, things are looking up after today.

You see, I was giving the benefit of the doubt in this ongoing situation for quite some time, but in that, I was so afraid of conflict and confrontation that I wasn’t able to stand up for myself…until today.

Today I stood up for myself in this situation that has broken me.

And the people involved in me standing up for myself? They were all on my side. They spoke with grace and truth, and most of all, love.

Before today I was a coward- so afraid of confrontation that I couldn’t even bring myself to get up the nerve to talk to the right people about what’s been going on.

But today I did just that.

I was, but I am not.

I was afraid, but I am not.

I was letting that fear run me, but I am not.

I was lacking clarity, but I am not.

You see, it’s in moments like today where I realize that no matter what I think or feel, fear will always lose. The darkness will always be overcome, even if it takes a whole lot of patience and a whole lot of courage for that to happen.

I was, but I am not.

It’s okay to be, but it’s even better to defeat.

Today light won.

Light always wins.

All to Him I owe.

Training Wheels

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

You know that saying that goes “it’s just like riding a bike!” 

That’s how I’ve found bliss to be, and life in general, honestly. 

You get to the point where it is so natural and second nature that you can pick it right up again. Or if you fall it’s really easy to get right back up.

I like to think of bliss being like a bicycle. I like to know that I can fall off a few times and feel like I’ve forgotten how to find it, but then pick myself back up, get on, and naturally have bliss again. It makes it easier to think of it on the days where I feel like all is lost when it comes to finding bliss. 

Bliss is never lost. Sometimes you just have to try a little harder to see it! Just like when you haven’t ridden a bike in a couple of years and get back on one to ride around your college campus-you have to try a little harder to know how to ride the bike somewhere you’re not used to. 

I’ve mentioned the transition to adulthood being more difficult than I thought. To start, I didn’t give myself a break post college (I didn’t even give myself a summer break because I took classes instead) which I don’t regret any of that, but I understand now why breaks are good. And then I took a job that sounded great for stability’s steak. The job wasn’t what I thought, so I left for another job, and that’s where I stand now. There’s still a lot I’m trying to figure out, but that’s life! 

Here’s the thing though- I thought I had it all figured out. I was riding a mountain bike up big mountains. I was conquering fears and life was easy because I know who I am and what I want to do in life! 

I’m an optimist and a planner, so trust me when I say, it felt good when I thought I had it all figured out. 

But life isn’t centered around my plans. It’s centered around God’s plans for me. And I have a tendency to want to plan and to know what’s up ahead, which usually ends up in me making a choice that gives me a mountain to climb or a struggle to really find bliss. Every single time I just let go and let God control the situation, it turns out even better than I could dream of. 

And the more I realize that, the more I realize that while I thought I was riding a mountain bike, the whole time I was riding a bike with training wheels. 

The transition to adulthood is when the training wheels came off. 

And that’s why I’ve felt like I’m going to fall over. That’s why I’ve been afraid to move in one direction. Because I’m afraid to fall since those training wheels came off. 

But here’s what happens when your training wheels come off: 

You get really wobbly.

You finally balance yourself.

You get the strength to move forward.

You wobble.

You fall off.

You get right back on and keep going until you’ve gotten your balance right.

Think back to when you rode a bike with the training wheels off. Really think about it. Did you fall? I did.

But something I always tend to forget about that whole training wheel experience is that I wasn’t alone. My parents were standing there the whole time. They made sure I felt comfortable and then they let me go because they knew that WHEN I fell (not IF I fell) I would be okay. 

Just like God is there for us in life and in finding bliss. He makes sure we are comfortable but He lets us go and lets us experience the instability and fear-because that’s what grows us. That’s what shapes us, and at some point you have to take off those training wheels. 

In the Wreckage

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

wreckage

 

It happened so quickly my mind couldn’t even process it.

In fact, 365 days later my mind is still processing it.

It comes and goes in bits and pieces, trying to form the whole accident over and over again.

It is spurred by triggers- like the sound of water under my car, the slush of water hitting up off of the back of big trucks, 18 wheelers being close, hard rain, or if I hear the word “Car accident” too much. 

But I’m learning how to handle the flashbacks. I’ve learned that if I don’t let myself see the events again I go into panic. My body goes into fight mode.

But if I let my mind replay it again (put on your seatbelt) :

I look into the rearview mirror to see what’s behind me since I can barely see two feet in front of me. I see the 18 wheeler. It’s on my tail. I don’t feel safe. My heart begins to race. We’re going down a hill. It’s too close. I don’t like it. I move into the right lane. Somewhere in the middle I looked over at Jesse. I know I did because he brings me comfort. We get into the right lane. We hit something slick. I can’t control the car. Jesse’s hand reaches over and grabs the wheel. I look to my left, see something really white. Hear a huge crashing/ cracking sound. “I love you, God.” All the while Jesse is telling me what to do:
“Slowly apply the break, Kat. Okay, good. You’re doing a good job. Okay, baby, ease off of the road, but don’t slam the break, okay? Okay, you’ve got it, Kat. You’re doing great. Okay, now take your foot off of the break.”
I don’t remember my body making the movements, but I remember hearing it and doing what I was told. I wasn’t there. I really wasn’t. My body was moving but I couldn’t feel it. I felt like everything around me was frozen until we stopped the car.
My head is down. I don’t know why it was down. I don’t know how it got there. I don’t even remember the glass breaking or my eyes closing, but I know it all happened.
I slowly lift up my head and look over to my right. Jesse is there. He’s all in one piece. I can see him, so I must be okay. But am I okay? 
I asked him if I was dying because that’s what I automatically assumed since we hit an 18 wheeler. 
He tells me I’m okay. I see blood. Lots of it. I ask him if my head is bleeding and point to the side of it.
“No, baby, your head is okay. Your nose is bleeding, but it’s okay. You’re okay. I promise you’re going to be okay.”
How did he keep so calm? 
I look over and see my hand sliced open. Lots of blood. I don’t do blood.
I start freaking out. My hand is bleeding. I CAN SEE MY BONE (it wasn’t my bone. It was my tendon hanging out). 
That’s when the pain hit. I didn’t even feel pain until I saw it.
He gets me out of the car on his side. People come over. Ask if we’re okay. Say nice things.
I’m dizzy. Really dizzy. 
Jesse is taking off of his shirt and then wraps his undershirt around my hand. I keep saying how badly it hurts. 
They tell me to lie down. It’s muddy. I’m cold. It’s wet. My hand hurts. I’m scared. Am I dying? 
The ambulance gets there. Jesse holds my good hand. Walks me to it.

I see it all clear as day. 

My face healed in a week. My hand took longer. I had three pieces of glass inside of my hand that I had surgery to remove, but that all healed up really well! I’m missing a tenon. Apparently it was “obliterated,” but “it’s okay because God made two there!”

My scar looks good and cool and I have a huge story I get to tell.

But the wreckage. That’s where I stand. 

My hand might be healed, but my mind still has open wounds. 

It takes time, I know. It’s been 365 days. But I know that God will pull me through it.

Don’t get me wrong, there has been a LOT of progress. Just the other day I willingly chose to drive on the interstate. That’s literally the first time I have driven on the interstate by choice.

I still have a long way to go, but it’s about patience and about baby steps.

But let me tell you, the wreckage isn’t easy. It isn’t fun, but it is growing.

I might mentally struggle, but spiritually I am maturing.

It takes a lot of relying on Jesus. A LOT of patience and a LOT of hope. 

Because God ALWAYS wins, and He will win with this battle, too. 

I’m going to be honest. In my life I’ve been through a lot of things that have given me good stories, but in those things, I’ve always just kind of struggled through them and shrugged them off.

This car wreck is the first time in my life I have ever been left asking God “Why?”

Not the wreck itself. It happened. I didn’t ask God why it happened because I knew that He was going to use it for His good! No issues there.

But the anxiety. That’s what I’ve asked God about a lot. WHY do I HAVE to struggle with this? It’s too tough. I will NEVER get back on that interstate, especially in rain. WHY won’t you just answer my prayers and take it away?

I think when I was younger I never asked God why because I wanted the answer that I wanted. I knew that I might not get what I want, so I just avoided asking the question.

But this time, this time I let myself ask it, and I’m glad I did.

Because God has answered my question by not giving me a clear answer. He has answered it by allowing me to grow and mature and trust in Him and Him alone. 

The only way I can find true comfort in a panic attack is listening to worship music. That’s literally the only thing that will pull me out of it.

Asking God “why?” made me get that it’s not about why. I don’t need a clear cut answer. It doesn’t matter why the anxiety is happening. 

What matters is how I’m getting through it and what I’m doing with it.

That’s what matters.

Because there is BEAUTY in WRECKAGE. Don’t you see that?

Because wreckage makes you vulnerable.
And vulnerability makes you approachable.
And being approachable brings people out of their shells.
And when people are out of their shells with walls down, that's when God uses you to move.

It’s not about why.

It’s about what you’re doing with it. 

So let me tell you what I’m doing with my anxiety-

I’m talking about it, now. I’m boasting in my weaknesses. I’m being honest with those around me, but more importantly, with myself.

It’s been 365 days and I have driven on the interstate by myself ONCE.

I have panic attacks.

I have flashbacks.

And recently, my doctor prescribed me anxiety medicine.

You see? My life is not perfection like I sometimes try to portray.

I haven’t taken it yet, and I haven’t decided if I will or not, but I have it.

Because sometimes healing is about taking a step back from ourselves and realizing we CAN NOT do it on our own.

And maybe I’ve been trying too hard to be brave.

Because I’m not brave.

God is brave.

and He makes me brave.

So that’s where I stand 365 days after the most traumatic and terrifying event of my life.

I stand in the wreckage.

Willing to admit to anyone willing to read this that I can’t do it on my own and I haven’t been doing it on my own.

Just ask Jesse. Ask my family. Ask my friends. Ask my pastor.

They all know. They’ve all seen it.

The shortness of breath- the glazed over eyes. The panic attacks. The brokenness.

But God has a purpose for it. I might be facing open wounds, 
but I have the ultimate healer on my side. 

And in that, there is bliss.

There will always be bliss.

Even in the wreckage.

You just have to CHOOSE to see it. 

Chains 

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

  

I feel like I’m in chains, bound to them with the key right in front of me, just slightly out of reach. 

My breathing gets heavy, then short, and then I feel faint. I put my hands over my head as I huff and puff for air. I get dizzy and the world seems to be spinning. My chest tightens and all I can do is feel paralyzed. 

It’s a panic attack onset by triggers from the anxiety of the wreck. 

I can’t control it. I can’t stop it. But I beat it…every single time. 

We were just driving from Tuscaloosa to Birmingham and it rained the entire time. I take 2 huge steps forward and then this happens and I feel like I take 10 steps back. It’s disheartening, but it’s also growing me. He even took highways for part of the ride. When we were on the interstate, though, the rain got harder and the water splashing from behind the cars got heavier. It sent me into a panic. Literally. 

This 18 wheeler was following too closely for my comfort. That’s what happened today. That’s what triggered the fear. That’s what happened in the wreck. But in the wreck, I got over to the right and that’s when it all happened. Today, they got over to the left and passed us, sending me into a whirlwind of fear and anxiety. But this time we didn’t wreck. This time nothing happened at all. 

I wish I could snap my fingers and all of the anxiety and fear would go away. But that would be too easy. It’s okay, though. I think that this is a good battle for me to fight. I don’t care how hard it is or how long it takes or even how disheartened I may be at times. There is good in every single situation. 

I will overcome because Jesus overcomes. 

I will find peace because God will give me peace. 

I will find rest for this burden because Jesus takes my burdens upon His shoulders and gives me rest. 

And I will never let this steal my joy. Because the joy of the Lord is my strength. He fights for me and holds me up. 

I have a story. Not only a story of the accident, but a story of the scars after it. This story is one that will show how real and broken I can be, because I am human. This story will show how in the brokenness of the chains, God overcomes for me. You see, this is the story of God’s goodness and grace. The story of His peace, strength, and joy. And I would not be a true disciple if I didn’t use it for His good. 

So bring on the rain and push me until I’m through it. 

One day I’ll look at the road and the rain and say “I’m okay.” 

But until then, I’ll hold on to Christ and say “give me peace, Jesus.” 

And He will answer it in His timing and in His ways and that’s okay with me. Because this makes for a story and stories make for ways to spread the love of Christ, and spreading the love of Christ makes evangelism and evangelism makes new disciples of Jesus. 

So through this anxiety, through this fear, and through this story there will be Jesus.

Dear Mom and Dad

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

momanddad
Dear mom and dad,
Thank you for my new car. The one that you've been driving 
more than me.
Thank you for your patience in my times of anxiety.
Thank you for taking the interstate a little more slow,
and keeping your distance around the cars that don't seem to care about control.
I felt so bad the day I wrecked the car I loved so much.
It's not like I meant to slip on the patch of water on that 
road,
But I've learned now that you have to go a little slower whenthe rain is pouring down,
even if 10 under seems right,
my judgement might be wrong.
I could not make it through this fight without your constant love,
I know that you are blessed gifts to me from God above.
Thank you for your servant hearts as you took me from 
place to place,
and listened to phone call after phone call of me seeming 
afraid.
I know there was an extra car you could have graciously 
loaned me,
But instead your took my comfort into account, and bought me an SUV.
Thank you for not pushing me to drive too fast or too far, 
while I am still afraid.
For telling me that I will be okay and making sure I feel 
comfort each and every way.
Thank you for your love throughout my life, 
especially on that day.
Thank you dearly for entrusting J to be the other half to my K;
For letting him care for and comfort me when you are 45 
minutes away.
It hasn't been an easy battle, but I know I'll make it 
through.
I know this because mom and dad,
I will always have you.

Love you more

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

  

“it’s okay. Breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He whispers it in my ear. 

He knows when it’s happening. When my breathing gets heavy and I become almost frozen. When my eyes glaze over and I sigh. When it gets dark around me and my mind flashes. 

“Breathe.”

I love him, more with each passing moment. But our love is so much more now because of what we went through. What we’re still going through. I have the scar to prove it. 

“It’s going to be okay.”

He’s become a comforter-not that he wasn’t before now-but an even greater one. 

He’s a vessel through which Christ works wonders. 

He is the vessel for God’s comfort– telling me it’s okay. He reminds me to breathe. He holds me. He lets me cry. He allows me to progress in baby steps. He has patience. He prays for me. He doesn’t have to tell me he prays for me, I feel it in my heart. He reminds me that God saved me that day. He is comfort. 

He is the vessel for God’s strength– when I feel weak- when my eyes glaze over and I fall into the replays and the darkness- He becomes strong for me. He looks me in the eyes and tells me I’m doing a great job. He holds my hand as I tremble in fear. He kisses my head when my eyes well up. He is strong. 

He is the vessel for God’s rejoicing– when I take a new step, he rejoices for me. When I drove, he smiled. When I went only a mile on the interstate and got scared, but made it, he rejoiced. Because I’m pushing through, keeping faith. So God rejoices through him. 

He is the vessel for God’s peace- my anxieties rise- it’s raining- he says “look down at what you’re typing.” He distracts me, he reminds me that God’s love carries me. That God overcame the world and He will overcome these anxieties. He tells me that I lived through my biggest fear and God will continue to protect me. God brings me peace through his words and through his actions. 

He is the vessel for God’s healing- when the accident happened, he immediately took off his shirts in the rain and wrapped one over my wound, putting pressure upon the place where it was bleeding. He cleaned my wound as needed. He washed it and put alcohol on it despite my angry faces. Despite the tears, he helped it heal. God did that through him. 

He is the vessel for God’s servant heart- oh how he served me. He would wrap the trash bag around my arm for me to shower. He would tie my shoes, open jars, apply my deodorant, help with my contacts. He became my second hand. He slept on the couch that night to make sure I would be okay. He drove me, he still does. Everywhere. 

He was the vessel for God’s love- he loves me. He loves me in sickness and health. He loves me to the moon and back. He loves me with his whole heart. He loves me beyond measure and without limitation. He loves me unconditionally and gives me his heart day in and day out. 

But I love you more,Jess. 

Thank you for being God’s vessel. For holding me and pulling me through this battle. For becoming my husband before we are even engaged. For loving me the way I love you. Thank you for comforting me and reminding me daily that God is good and He will cast out fear. You are incredible, and I love you deeply, through Christ. 

May our love get stronger every day and our blessings never be taken for granted. May God always protect us, and as the days pass on and as our relationship deepens, may the scar on my left hand be a constant reminder of the bond that we share. 

To God be the glory forever and ever. 

Glass

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

“We may shine, we may shatter,
We may be picking up the pieces here on after,
We are fragile, we are human,
We are shaped by the light we let through us,
We break fast, cause we are glass.
Cause we are glass.”

It was one month ago to this day. Everything kind of shattered around me, like glass. No literally, the glass in my driver’s side window shattered as I hydroplaned into an 18 wheeler with my boyfriend, Jesse in the car on the way to celebrate my Grandfather’s 90th birthday.

I’ve been planning this blog for a while now, I’ve had a lot to say about it, but you see, my left hand was damaged in the wreck, so I haven’t been able to type until now.

In about 15 seconds, at 4:15 pm on a rainy, rainy Monday, my life began to look a little different. I moved over into the right lane because there was an 18 wheeler following me a little too close for my own comfort. A couple of feet later, we hit the patch of water. From there, I remember every second. I remember Jesse grabbing the wheel trying to hold it steady with me. I remember the realization that we couldn't control the car anymore. Control. We'll get to that. I remember him telling me what to do. Every second it was happening, I remember him directing me. But I don't remember my body moving. I remember feeling paralyzed, being afraid. I remember looking to my left to see a giant white truck coming closer. I remember closing my eyes on impact, and after countless flashbacks, I now remember the sounds of the crash, the sounds of the shattering glass, and the silence after that. I remember, most distinctly, the only thought in my head during the collision. "I love you, Jesus." I remember Jesse telling me to slowly apply the break and meander off of the road into the ditch, and I remember getting to the ditch and coming out of the state of frozenness to see my surroundings, to look at him and realize I was still alive.

He told me to stay calm, so I was…at first.

But then, I saw the blood..everywhere.

I saw blood falling from what I thought was my head. It was actually from my face.

He told me “I need you to be calm, Kathryn.”

But then I looked to my hand on the wheel, the one that was causing me pain.

And I saw the inside of it, flesh missing, and a LOT of blood.

I started to panic.

I asked if I was dying. He said no.

He told me to stay calm and to walk out of his side of the car, so I did.

I stayed as calm as I could.

Three people stopped to help me.

None of them were the driver of the 18-wheeler.

Three is my number. I've talked about it before. Three is like the Trinity. Father, Spirit, and Son. They were all there with me.

To the young man who stopped: Thank you for stopping. You knew there was nothing you could do. Nothing at all, but you got out of your car in the pouring rain to make sure we were alive, to make sure we were okay, and to call an ambulance. I couldn’t thank you then, and I will probably never see you again, but thank you for stopping. For caring. For loving a stranger enough to show the image of Jesus.

To the man who was a doctor that stopped: Thank you. Thank you so much. You called the paramedics. You described everything you saw. I can’t even thank you enough for that, you know? You did so much and you used your calling to do it. We needed you in that moment. We needed you to take that control and help us out, and you did. I am so gracious for that and for you.

To the woman who stopped: Thank you for watching what the doctors do at UAB. You told me you work there and you told me you aren’t a doctor, but that you observe what they do daily. I needed that confidence because you were the one who stood above me. You were the one who told me to lie down as I felt light headed. Who stood over me with an umbrella to keep me as much out of the rain as you could. You are the one who let me be in shock, as the only words I could say were “I’m so scared, am I dying? I am so, so scared.” You told me a story. You distracted me until the paramedics got there. Thank you, so very much.

The rest of that night was pretty much a blur. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, terrified to be on the road. I had an x-ray of my hand and chest. I had CT scans on my head, neck, and face. Then I was hooked up to some morphine, got stitches and Jesse and my family were there. I was covered in glass and soaking wet so they changed me to a gown. I heard that I might have to have surgery on my hand because my tendon was so cut up, but I didn’t really know much. Except for that I was okay. 

Everyone was wondering why I was smiling.

It’s because we were alive. We had survived. 

Have you ever faced your biggest fear?

I now have.

When I think back to the wreck and I remember that giant white thing I saw I was about to crash into, I now see angel wings. Because Jesus was protecting us. Oh, how he was protecting us.

You want to know how cool God is?
Ten minutes before the wreck I hit a patch of water and the wheel felt a little shaky. It was then that I asked Jess what to do if I hydroplaned. God was preparing me. Then we went through the accident, Jesse walked out with a tiny scratch on his knuckle. I walked out with a cut up hand and face. He protected us through that. If I had been any bigger, I would have been pinned inside the car.

I hate the what-ifs, though. They just make things bad.

God was ever present that day. He is every day. 

I had three pieces of glass inside my hand, I found out. There’s that number again, Father, Spirit, Son. One piece to remind me that each of them was present. They always are.

My tendon was actually completely cut in half (they found this out when I went into surgery a week and a half or so later). They couldn’t find the end of it, so they didn’t fix it. They didn’t need to though, because the tendon that was severed is the one that has a sister tendon. Because God made two of them. How cool is that? My orthopedic has told me a lot about my injury. He said God made the hand so very forgiving. That’s some cool grace right there.

It’s my left hand, which means I will always have a giant scar on it. Which means when Jesse proposes to me, my ring pictures will look a little different. The hand won’t be so pretty, but that doesn’t matter, because we went through it together. 

“our scars make us know that our past was for real”- Pride and Prejudice

Speaking of Jesse..

Thank you, Jesse, for holding me through this. For pulling me through this. I seriously wouldn't have made it through without you. I love you, I love you so so much. There are so many things that I could say to you about this, but that should be a whole different blog. So it will be. You have done so much for me, and I'm so blessed by you. You are such a light and vessel in my life for Jesus. Thank you for being with me through every second of this. For cleaning my hand, for literally being my second hand. Thank you for holding me as I cry, as I have anxiety, and as I take tiny baby steps to get through this. You are everything to me. You stepped into what I like to call "husband mode" in an instant, and you've had a lot of strength and patience with me. That's all I'm going to say for now, but stay tuned for a whole blog post on it!

anxiety is going to have it’s own post too, but let me tell you, that has been the hardest battle of them all. It’s taking a lot of courage, trust, and patience to get through it. There are flashbacks at a steady rate, driving in the rain is terrifying, and it took me a month to even be able to drive again. It’s been interesting, but God is good and He’s been pulling me through it.

I realized during that wreck that God's control is the perfect control. In those 15 seconds of total loss of control, I found out how beautiful it is to not have any ounce of control. I couldn't even try to have control, but God pulled us through, you know? There was so much peace and joy in that crash that I can't even begin to explain. God's control gave me so much grace (which is the name of my car that my parent's got for me, which will also be a whole blog in itself- the story of grace and the thankfulness I have for my parents).

The point of all of this, is that God is good. He is so good.

I look back at the wreck and see Jesus. I look at the scar on my left hand and see a story to use to spread God’s love, grace and mercy. I see a way to evangelize. I look at the only thought I had during the wreck and am joyful to know that in that moment, all I could think of was how much I love Jesus.

“Well you’ve come to bring life, to be light to shine brighter in us. Oh Emmanuel. God with us.”

wreckwreck2  wreck3

you are my hope (the bliss of the night)

Posted on by Kathryn Davis

Image

 

It’s been a while.

A while since I’ve gotten to sit and write.

To Pour Out.

But I knew it was coming. 

and now is the time.

 

Tonight was one of the most needed nights of the last few weeks of my life.

If you have been a part of my life lately, you have seen me in my biggest period of struggle.

So. much. stress. from. school.

I’ve been working on this project that took up all my time, not to mention working on all of my other classes, going to church, spending time with Jesse, and balancing out my social life.

But the stress has ended up bringing me so much bliss.

Now that I’m out of the cloud.

The project? 

- a wedding planning project. Naturally, I loved every minute of it..despite the complaining. 

The other classes?

- I'm doing well in school- there is bliss here.

Church?

- How could I possibly survive without it? I couldn't.
the communities, the fellowship, the worship, the scripture, the lessons, the art that I create while sitting in the services.

Jesse?

- He constantly makes me know that I am going to pull through. That I'm a fighter. That I'm stubborn. That I'm loved. That I'm cherished. That there is hope. That the world isn't ending. That a break is coming. That I am making correct decisions. 
He holds me accountable.

Balancing my social life?

-I couldn't make it without the people I have gotten to spend time with. And even those I haven't gotten to spend time with who I love, I couldn't make it without them either. 

Now, to what went down tonight.

Let me start by talking a little bit about TODAY.
today I turned in my project and Jesse watched me and my excitement for turning in something I worked incredibly hard on! In the process of turning it in I got to talk to three professors who invest time in my life. Who constantly show that they care about me, my future, and my success. Because they know I work hard and care about it.I found out that this summer I will get to take the class that is the MOST IMPORTANT class of my major-and my sister’s wedding is counting for it! I got to talk to my mom about a million times and to my sister for a solid 20 minutes or more. Let’s be real, they were really happy with a decision I made, so it made me really happy! I did what I felt to be right, and they affirmed that decision. That being said, I can’t wait to spend some quality time in Pensacola with them.

Ok, on to tonight.

So I had a girls' night with one of my best friends. Last semester we didn't get to really hang out, but this semester we have had a few really really great times. You know they're a best friend when you can keep up with each other's lives and pick up right where you left off even if you don't text much and rarely see each other. 

We cooked together. We both love cooking. 

It was just so chill and relaxing, and there is so much iridescent bliss in that.

Then we made coffee and sat down on the couch and watched a movie.

Y’all.

I am going to be a wedding planner and had never seen “The Wedding Date,”

so she introduced me to it.

WOW. It is precious, has wonderful quotes, and is such a great movie to just sit and enjoy.

Then we went to Target and got excited over things like new shampoo. 

So we feel like grown ups.

Let's just say, this night was extremely needed.

The rest I got, the friend I got to spend time with. 

 

Then I got back.

and I picked up my guitar.

I haven’t truly played since Memaw’s funeral.

which is going to be ironic for what you are about to read next.

I played, I remembered things, and I just soaked in the moment.

 

& then I opened my bible.

But before I did that, I said

“God give me the eyes to see and the ears to hear. Let me open to what I need to see.”

You will never believe what happened next.

God’s power and control are so transformational in my life.

 

“May the God of hope fill you with all JOY and PEACE as you TRUST in him, so that you may OVERFLOW with HOPE by the POWER of the HOLY SPIRIT.”

On December 31, 2013, my Memaw went to be with the Lord.
The first verse I opened to that night was Romans 15:13.

But there is a catch.

I only read the first half of the verse.

The first half reads, 

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him"

I tweeted it.

Throughout the next few months, I learned a lot about overflow.

It became one of my words.

The word that filled my life, my heart, and my spirit.

Joy has been a constant word in my life for quite some time.

What is the catch here?

The second half of the verse I flipped to tonight.

The same verse that I opened the night my grandmother died.

"so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."
Did you know that patience has been my lesson this semester?
And what comes with patience?

Peace does.

Did you know that my favorite bible verse is Hebrews 11:1?
Now you do.
It's what I strive to live by.

“Now faith is being sure of what we HOPE for, and certain of what we do not see.”

“May the God of HOPE….overflow with HOPE.”

Now, there aren’t words that I can physically write to you to explain the power I feel and see in this moment.

But maybe, just maybe, you will see it, too.

You will feel the chills that radiate throughout my body as I type. 

Because a single verse was used over months.

Without me even realizing it.

 

He amazes me.

 

and this all, my friends, is iridescent bliss, in the most radiating of ways.

 

I find it funny, that over the course of the last few months I have felt like I am in a limbo state.

This state where I am not being used to the full measure.

But I think I just had an epiphany.

Does God not use my bliss in every post I make?

 

Maybe I have found the purpose I have been looking for lately.

To pour out. To give my heart out to all of you. Because you know what I think is really cool?

 

I have no idea who actually reads my blog.

Even if you are my friend who sees me on a weekly basis, I don’t know that you read it.

I don't know if I am touching your life.
I don't know if I am making a true difference.
I don't know what you think of my words, my stories, my heart.

But does that not keep away pride?

That it does, that is does.

 

To you who read my heart- find bliss in the stress. 

Find bliss in the moments that change you.

Bliss in the moments that radiate and overflow.

Bliss in the joy.

Bliss in the peace.

In the patience.

Find bliss in hope.

 

Because you are my hope. 

Did you know that? 

 

Hope that maybe I am being used to the full measure.