NEW blog coming!

I've been writing for as long as I can remember - from mystery stories to love stories, angsty poetry and songs with lots of "ooooohhhs". Writing has been the means by which I make sense of life, myself, others, or simply is a way to get out all that doesn't make sense about the world around me.

Just over seven years ago I started my first blog. I have not looked at it in a while and really would be quite embarrassed to I'm sure. From that point though my approach to writing changed. No longer was my audience isolated to my teacher and family - there was now a potential reach far beyond my inner circle. The first blog that I read consistently was by Katie Davis who lives in Uganda. I remember reading about her life and falling in love with this far off land that sounded so foreign and fantastic. As I fell for Africa, I also found myself enamored with this method of sharing. This writing on the internet for any eye to come across. I let the thoughts stir in my head as to what it meant for not just Katie in Africa to write, but for Kyleigh in Texas to write. I didn't have my teachers there to hand me writing prompts and essay topics; this was one part exhilarating and one part terrifying. I was dizzied by all the possibility and the freedom of writing whatever came to my mind. Which in the early days probably looked akin to an overly explanatory Facebook post from your grandmother about their holiday weekend.

I spent the first few years dabbling here in there, posting pictures with lengthy explanations about the sugar cookies my friends and I decorated. It was all very intriguing. In this season of my life there was a great amount of change occurring on the landscape of my soul. No longer was I giving the Sunday school answer to my own life, I found myself enraptured by my Savior and wanting nothing less that all of Him. I was overflowing. This spilling over poured on to the pages of my journal and to my blog. I found new meaning in writing. It was not just a means to express and create fictional lands (which are both still so important), now it was a way to declare and encourage. A space to present the Truth I was learning and grasping for the first time.

This fueled my writing for quite a while. As I continued to walk in this fresh faith, my heart leaping and coming alive and spilling over in words on a page. Then when life came strong like a cold gust of wind, I braced myself with the binding of my journal and the words I wrote there. Change came quick and the rain poured down, yet there was solace in ink on sheets and words on a screen. To this day writing remains the place where I feel sheltered from the storms around me. It is a place I can go to rest, and let out all that feels stuck inside. It is also the place I have learned the beautiful gift of sharing with others. A home to settle in to and invite others to join me. A hearth to cozy up to and listen to the stories of others, sharing encouragement and honesty, breathing deep in the communion of "me too" life moments.

That today is why I continue to write, for the "me too". Over the years I have read many words - memoirs, poetry, blog posts, lyrics, and there is this incredible rest that washes over you when you read someone else's story and see yours in it too. This embrace that warms you with the knowledge that you are not alone. I knew there was a new chapter coming in how I blogged, how I wrote, how I shared - and that is why I am starting a new blog kyleidoscopeoflife.com will launch tomorrow, December 28th at 12pm. I cannot begin to express how excited I am to share this new space with you. My desire is for it to be that home and hearth - warm with the familiarity of past and fresh with the hopeful anticipation of life to be lived. I would be completely honored if you would join me tomorrow and in the days to come. I look forward to writing more, to reading more, and to sharing more with you.

In His grace,
Kyleigh

adventure

There is this great appeal to adventure and travel. The thrill of new places, different cities everyday. The rush of adrenaline as you roll the window down and breathe deep the fresh air blowing in across the bay. Your eyes scan and jump to take it all in - the height of unknown buildings, the flashes of faces, the random reflection of your own face in a shop window. So strange to see you in this place. A reflection of your well-known features taking residence upon window after window. Your glance to see self in this new place as fleeting as your time spent there.

It is swift - travel. The one constant is the unknown road ahead. Yet, that is the draw. The lure that glistens just ahead, that pulls you deeper in. You may plan the steps you take, but inevitably there is a change. You move towards it though, with fervor, accepting challenge. A new opportunity with each day to stretch your view of the world, this life you live, and your role in it.

Road blocks blink bright with exciting possibility. Even the most stressful situation is entered in to with resolve - because it's in the name of "Adventure" that you push on. For when you arrive home again, you will carry with you stories. Titles written in the tear of a shirt, the lost pillow, the journals filled.

This is adventure - that you may accept what comes on the road ahead as part of the story.

Here is where I stand with a question, a quiet revelation of sorts. You see apart from a week long road trip across the Pacific Northwest and a few days housesitting - for the last 365 days I have lived in the same house. Walls plastered with maps, outward pictures of my wandering mind. Tall windows that let in the most baptizing white light after a long rain. Messy corners that are evidence of long weeks and lack of desire to clean. As I sit here in this space, this room I've lived in for the last year I'm challenged and questioning.

I did not expect all that came along the road of this last year. While setting remained the same, aside from a few room re-arrangements, detours and unexpected road signs mark the journey. New faces have come in and out, jobs have changed more than I care to count, my role in many ventures has taken different form.

Then the sudden jerk of the steering wheel and my heart flutters and someone new comes in - a boy I didn't anticipate. It's so much easier to travel alone you know. You can hide in the four walls of the same room you've lived in for the last year and not be seen. But now, he's here and his arms are open wide, yet I'm feeling broken. Days before he asks me to walk with him a while - my family changes. My heart lurches at the crash of circumstance. Suddenly the reality of years gone by comes back and collides with ideals held. I feel like I crumple under the pressure, the change of course. A snow storm blows in and the road is icy and unsure, my sight inhibited by gracefully falling flakes of perfect white.

All I do is scream - "I didn't ask for all of this." I was content with how things were, moving steadily along. Yet here as I look back I am reminded of adventure - my cry for which was loud and long the months leading up to my move back to this place. Adventure is full of detours, unexpected turns, road blocks...but I didn't ask for this. That's all I could think.

Does anyone? Do you leave your home and all you know, cross your fingers and pray for a ten hour layover? Do you drive miles and miles to hike only to find out the park is closed for several days? No, of course not. You don't seek out change, it just happens. Change is Adventure's closest friend - the one that shows up at the party late, but with a great story and extra ice.

I didn't ask for this. I don't think she did either. She didn't ask for the change to bring loss. He didn't ask for change to bring stress and anxiety. But here we are - with the results of change ahead of us, cones guiding the way of the detour.

This is Adventure. Life lived full, entered in to deeply. While I ache to think of some of the roads turned down, I rejoice for where they have led. While I have not traveled miles away, to see my face reflect off the surface of some distant lake - I can look in the mirror in the small bathroom at home and see a girl that has journeyed and is changed.

And this journey is far from complete. Sitting now I can see evidence of road maps that will lead to new chapters never before entered in to, with that boy that I was once scared to share my heart with. While wedding invitation designs lay scattered on my bed, the same light floods in the tall windows. Rushing over with it's rays of baptism, renewing my weary soul. I still have just as many questions as before, my mind will run away with lies on occasion when change enters in, but I am learning to accept the choice of Adventure. To accept what comes on the road ahead as part of the story. Leaning in to each turn and holding tightly to the hand of the Guide.

the dreaming & the doing

Here’s the thing – you can dream all day long, but until you do something - that dreaming just sits on journal pages or in your pretty little head or on that pinterest board you spent hours on. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge advocate for dreaming. Dreaming is the very thing I believe helps us discover who we are. It’s the place where we can take risks, because we can dream of dying our hair pink without actually doing it. It’s like dress up for your life, and you never grow up and enter middle school and end up not fitting in to your favorite pink, frilly, princess dress. Dreaming is a place where fear is not allowed and being crazy is an asset. So with that, I say DREAM-dream big and wide and crazy, and WRITE IT DOWN. Nothing makes you feel like a real live crazy person than writing down your dreams. Because yes, when you write down “own a unicorn” you will realize how crazy you are. But the first step is admitting it, right?

So there ya go, dreaming. Now that I’ve up-ed my word count trying to convince you of how important and lovely I think dreaming is – let me say this – dreaming needs doing. While yes, writing down your dreams is doing something; I believe it’s only the first step. And yes I do also realize that I can’t do much more than just write down that I want to own a unicorn. (Other than buying myself a horse and strapping a horn on its head – ha solved that one!)

Really though, this is where we (yes - you, me and every other lovely human person) get stuck. We can dream all day, we can make lists; we can talk in pretty descriptions, and spend endless hours on pinterest. Trust me, I know; I’m really good at pinterest. But there has to be a step forward.

For some, that first step is sharing. It’s being bold and sitting with a friend and saying “this is my dream”. And oh my dear, that is huge – because these dreams we hold in us are fragile and sharing them is scary business. Once we’ve shared (and trust me I realize this isn’t the easiest step) we have to allow ourselves to believe it is possible. Now I’m not saying this is going to work for a seventy year old who dreams of having five kids by the age of seventy-seven. I mean there was Sarah..but you know what I mean. There is this thing called “reality” and it’s a real bugger because darn it, I’ve tried jumping off the couch with my bed sheet cape so many times and I still can’t fly.

I’m getting off track here – the point is whether your dream is to fly, have kids, open a business, travel to Ireland, grow a beard – you have to believe that you can and move forward from that place. Grab your bed sheet, tie it up, and perch on the edge of that couch cushion. And then….JUMP!

And yes, you will hit the ground. But remember the rush? That singular moment as you were parallel (not crashing in to) the ground and you felt so light and free. That’s the doing. That’s the rush that comes with jumping in to the unknown of your dreams. And yes, there will be times that you fall. Really though, we all need failure otherwise we would all be superheroes that didn’t need saving. (And hon, we don’t need anymore spandex suits in the world – leave that to Cirque de Soleil) Embrace the failure, just like your face just embraced the carpet you fell in to. Failure doesn’t mean everything is wrong. I’m tired of failure being a negative word. Someone needs to paint a pretty canvas with the word “failure” in calligraphy – because dang it failure teaches you and shapes you.

So let’s give failure a bear hug, let’s dream of unicorns and business and babies and travel, and then – let’s jump. Without fear of the fall, the carpet burn, the fact that we may need help up after. (At least you didn’t have to wear spandex.)

sorting out

I'm still sorting this out. That I am in one place, but pieces of my heart are elsewhere. In a vibrant college town, scattered in the hill country, big building cities, and over great bodies of water. And I'm here. Moving is one of the hardest things I have done and will do. Sometimes it makes me mad. Because I want so badly to be somewhere else. Not at all because where I am now is awful. My here and now is quite lovely and bright and exciting and changing.

Yet there are people. That's it, the people - friends, family, sisters, brothers, kindreds. They are what make me wish I could hop in a DeLorean and go back. Better than that, I wish I could just teleport. Because I want to see and hear and hug and laugh with them, now.

I miss the smell of cigar smoke on the front porch and the crash of water on skin jumping in to the river. Running down the dunes, kicking sand in to the air and scraping ice off of my windshield with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Even more I miss the sound of our three voices singing in to the night, the way she interrupted an entire coffee shop with her elated laughter, chasing them through corn fields at night, and sharing so many meals with them.

All of them. Whether plopped on blankets in the living room, the tall table in the kitchen, over queso at 3am, or making eggs & bacon at midnight. The breaking of bread (or chips) brought us together. On Sunday nights, Thursday adventures, or after closing HBCB and froyo runs. For that I am thankful.

We lived wide, loved deep, and laughed long. If my adventures weren't so wonderful, my memories not so strong, my heart not so tangled in others, it simply would have been wasted. It would have been a life less lived. Mediocre.

So, while I get annoyed when the tears sting my eyes as that song comes on or when I see the picture and wish it was me sitting and having coffee with them - I have to remember. Remember, that there I Lived. And that Jesus gives Life, because He wants it to be lived. And just as He called me then, teaching me of adventure and discovery and deep joy & relationship, He calls me now. Lessons will continue and new ones will come. Always though, will He be my Guide. The perfect Partner, Leader, and Friend - calling me deeper in to Life as He gives it - raw, hopeful, and full of adventure.

let's be real: cuss words & Jesus with a megaphone

These last few weeks I've said more cuss words than I care to count, ate more bowls of ice cream than I care to admit, and watched an innumerable amount of Office episodes. That feels like a fair summary; however, there's a lot more stewing beneath my dairy stained pj's (and I don't just mean a hungry tummy).

You see, God does this funny thing when we ask Him for something.....He answers.

It was brought to my attention over coffee one evening that so often we ask God for something or to teach us something without really anticipating or wanting to be taught. Like patience for example, we assume that having to stand in one line for twenty minutes was our lesson. BAM! Patience on lock.
Thank you Jesus for teaching me patience. "Woohoo!" for you, you stood in a line with twenty-eight other people and you didn't even think a bad word or tap your foot with impatience.

Oh boy, I don't think that's it.

This year I've been learning. ALOT. (Grammar not included because I can't remember if there's suppose to be a space between "a" and "lot" in this situation.) Conversations with Jesus have included lots of talk about adventure. Ironically, one of my favorite quotes about adventure is from the documentary 180 South and says, "...adventure is when everything goes wrong. That's when the adventure starts."

I'm rethinking my favorite quotes list.....

It's funny, as I've been walking along and the trail has gotten harder, the brush thicker, and a few branches have snapped back in my face - it's harder to hear. Man am I glad that Jesus has a megaphone because even as I've whirled in the white noise of lies, He comes in loud and clear.

"YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN ALONE!" - Jesus

That one came today. It came blasting through the overhead speaker at the pity party I was throwing for myself that DJ Devil so kindly offered to provide free entertainment for.

"I am enough. I am rest." again He speaks and I am reminded that is journey is not for comfort. It's not so I'll be able to stand in a long line with a genuine smile on my face. This adventure of learning in the "going wrong" is that I may know more fully the depth of love of my Father. His desire is not for disaster to overcome, but that I may be reminded that He overcame. In Him I am embraced by grace - the arms of a Savior that has walked in my place.

I'm still tripping my way down this trail. Some days I just really wish I drove a car that never had problems and that I didn't have to worry about a check passing the bank. In those moments still, He is present. As I kick and scream and cry, He brushes me off and picks me up and takes my hand as we continue on. On this road called "Adventure" where everything may go wrong, Jesus carries a megaphone and reminds me I am never alone.

through His lens week 5 & 6

Honesty.

Here we go.

These past two weeks have been all over. Days long and full. Some ended in exhaustion & tears, others robust with laughter & singing. Nights that run late and mornings that come early. Stories told and listened to, from those long-known & those now-knowing. Walks in silence and picnics in the dark. Prayers whispered for strength and praises for Freedom being lived.

These days have been beautiful. They've been hard.
Above all, they have been FULL. Abundantly so.

Thanks be to the God that is here;
in His Fullness, He is ever near.
In His Abundance, He is creating,
Beauty from this mess.

                               

  

to Austin we go

Wandering, romping, adventuring near & afar - this makes all that is inside me spin, giddy & fast. Leaving me dizzy on the ground, with a stupid silly smile on my face. I also picture myself wearing a tutu and in a field of flowers. Now that this imagery of how I feel about traveling & adventures sounds like a feminine supply commercial, I'm going to stop while I'm ahead. Which probably would have been before that last sentence. With that, I proceed....

This past weekend, on a whim, my dreamer friend and I decided to hit the road ATX-bound. We found ourselves venturing up and down South Congress; wandering in and out of shops (Uncommon Objects, Stag, & St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Store). In between little shop pop-ins we consumed coffee like air (not using our windpipes contrary to popular belief), we super enjoyed the TOMS Roasting Co. and snagged a classic ATX snapshot by Jo's!

After a late lunch at Magnolia Cafe we trekked back to the car and headed over to the Graffiti Wall. We ended the day lake side at Mozart's Coffee Roaster. I couldn't have imagined a better end to our day than unwinding coffee in hand (#typical, I know) and taking time to write. Just one sketchy bathroom stop & several sing-alongs, and then we were back home.

So thankful for the chance to quench this thirsty inner-wanderer and enjoy such a sweet day with Jordan! Hope you enjoy a little visual peek in to all we encountered!

What was your last road trip like and what's your go-to sing-along song?

stitches of an adventure heart

You take my adventure heart
for miles & miles of wild rides
through open skies & hidden towns
You delight in seeing my heart come alive

My inmost tangles are known to You
each woven thread & knot undone
Divine Hands of Yours tug gently
winding Our thread together more tightly

No thought unseen or desire uncharted
each stitched with care on my fabric heart
calendar numbers passing fast & slow
not a single hour left unbuttoned

seams never left untouched
Your presence woven in with each
never a point, a place without
Your Holy Stitch of grace complete

Dark can never cloak Your presence
nor light outshine Your Love Divine
each waking, waning, wishful moment
hemmed in by Your heart so kind

Your fingers trace the roads like knotted stitches
grace unravels as every mile is sewn
adventure hearts knitted together,
it is here that I am known.


*inspired by Psalm 139