What I Learned at Disneyland

"Don't worry, Kalei, I'll make her smile!"  These kids. 

A friend asked me recently how I figure out what to write about.  

The truth is, most of the time, I have no friggin clue.  In fact, on more than one occasion, panic set in: crap it’s almost Wednesday, what the heck am I gonna write about now???

But I’ve noticed a funny thing recently: during the week, a series of little events magically combine, and a theme emerges. And what I saw over and over this week was hope.  

Maybe it was completing a truly heinous half-marathon training run, a 6-mile doozy of stairs and hills and utter madness, which caused me to think hey, maybe I won’t die. Perhaps it was hearing the news that a dear friend who suffered a tragic loss, just had a beautiful baby girl.  Or maybe it was the hopeful little faces of my nieces as we waited in line at Disneyland to meet their heroes, Elsa and Anna of Frozen (a 1 1/2 hour I’m-now-best-friends-with-Tommy-and-Megan’s-mom wait, I might add). 

As I was standing in line at the Happiest Place on Earth, I thought about how my life now is in such stark contrast to a year ago.  It brought me back to the memory of a dark email I had written during one of the most difficult periods of my life.

That email was my first attempt at truly letting people know what was going on—a small cry for help that I sent to a few dear friends.  

Since I’ve always been a pretty positive person, I’m a bit embarrassed to admit this: I had lost hope.

I hadn’t read that email in a while, and I was curious, so I went back and re-read it. I was a bit shocked.  This is the part that jumped out at me:

But as I sit here, crying my eyes out--after one of my resolutions was to stop crying so much!--I still question everything, doubt whether I'll ever be happy and live a life that makes me excited to wake up in the morning.

I guess I have to.  Because at my core, I believe this can't all be for nothing.  That all this hurt, pain, loss....there must be a reason for it. I have to believe it. 

Here’s what I found so interesting: I remember that email being completely dark, depressing and hopeless. 

As it turns out, that wasn’t so at all.  

I didn’t realize until now, that I did still have hope.  Even in my darkest hour, there was a part of me that didn’t want to give up. 

And my friends weren’t ready to give up on me either. 

One of my oldest friends responded within minutes: I love you and you’re gonna be ok.  And then she said something that pierced right through me: 

Never ever ever ever give up.  Like, ever.

I wish I could say that right then and there I made the decision to turn things around.  I didn’t.  It took a little while.  But I know she planted a seed. And along with friends, family, and most importantly, my renewed relationship with God, I eventually climbed out of that pit to a new chapter of my life--stronger, happier, and overflowing with hope. 

Of course today’s Jesus Calling is about hope (I wasn’t kidding about this theme thing):  

Waiting on me means directing your attention to me in hopeful anticipation of what I will do.  It entails trusting me with every fiber of your being, instead of trying to figure things out yourself.

I also found this little gem which is my new favorite verse on hope:

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. Romans 15:13

So now, when I feel myself slipping into dark thoughts, I remind myself of this: 

There is always, always, always, always hope.  Like, always.

What a Difference A Year Makes

I cannot believe I used to work here.  I also cannot believe
it was 19 degrees and I was outside taking this picture. 

I visited New York this past weekend. Upon landing, I got a little emotional.  This took me completely by surprise, and made me a little embarrassed—I was having a fun conversation with Window Seat Guy, who, once I started crying, had no idea what to do with me.  I could literally hear the poor guy thinking: Lady, I thought you were normal till just now. 

I now understand why, it being my first time back since I moved 14 months ago, I got a little choked up. 

Let me back up. 

I had moved to New York for an incredible job opportunity: Awesome company, title, responsibilities, and salary that afforded me an amazing apartment, wardrobe, and the most expensive doggy daycare on earth.   

On the outside, I was living The Good Life.  I had the Job of a Lifetime!  I had a fabulous apartment on The Upper West Side!  I carried a Prada bag and wore Gucci shoes!  I dated snobby, wealthy Finance guys!

But I was far from family and friends.  I worked a lot.  I traveled even more.  I was expected to make $1 million in my first year of employment (I exaggerate here but only slightly).  You know, no pressure.

And of course, being a strong, independent, everything-is-fine kinda gal, I didn’t really tell anyone that I was freaking out.  I preferred to yell at myself. 

You’re an idiot.  You have your dream job in an awesome city, you’re making more money than you’ve ever made in your life—you’re living the dream!  What the hell is wrong with you?  Get it together! 

On the inside, I was unbelievably stressed, and lonely.  I felt totally out of control in every area of my life.

So I turned to Food.

Food easily occupied 60% of my waking thoughts.  The rest was roughly 30%= Work, 9%= Dog, 1%= Gee I wonder which I should designer bag I should buy this week.

I’d spend hours researching restaurants, dissecting menus, making reservations.  I’d design my weekends around visiting as many dessert places as I could.  And when I wasn’t dining at some of New York’s best, I was ordering a ton of delicious delivery food (stupid GrubHub and your amazing late night delivery service).

Not surprisingly, I gained weight.  Which made me even more upset.  And the vicious cycle continued. 

I don’t blame you if this is what you’re thinking: Good God lady, that’s sad.  

So back to landing.  It struck me that in just 14 months, everything has changed.  I’m now a completely different person, in the best possible way. 

I own my own company.  I’m in nutrition school. I have a much healthier relationship with food.  I have an incredible support network.  I volunteer regularly.  I’m training for a half marathon.  I’m fulfilled, happy, loved.  (And a tad busy). 

What changed?  I turned everything over to God. 

This doesn’t mean that my life is all rainbows and unicorns.  Nor does it mean that I sit on my ass all day waiting for stuff to happen.

But handing everything over to God has made a huge difference in my life.  I have such peace, especially when it comes to my problems.  From today’s “Jesus Calling”: 

Every problem can teach you something, transforming you little by little into the masterpiece I created you to be….I will not necessarily remove your problems, but My wisdom is sufficient to bring good out of every one of them.

With God’s help, I now see this painful time in my life as an incredible blessing.  The people and experiences he's blessed me with have enriched my life in so many ways. 

For example, Window Seat Guy: after wiping away a few tears and giving him an I swear I’m normal smile, he reached into his bag and handed me...an antiseptic wipe.  

Ahh New York, I love ya.

Slow Down, Speedracer

A beautiful sunset from Balboa Island, where I took a speed walk with
 a friend. Luckily, we slowed down to appreciate this little gem.

I like to go fast.  

I walk fast. I eat fast. But I especially like to drive fast. (Leadfoot is my middle name.  I mean, it’s not, but I have like 34 middle names so it might as well be). 

On Sunday, I was driving with a friend to lunch, complaining that lately, I seemed to have been blessed to find myself driving behind the slowest people on earth.  As if on cue, a wonderfully grand minivan pulled out in front of me.  Apparently unable to locate her accelerator, she brilliantly stalled the line of cars departing from the parking lot. 

My eyes rolling and my voice getting a bit too excited, I turn to my friend: 

SEE?!?!  What did I just say?! So freaking annoying! 

So let’s pause a moment.  Because I may have forgotten to mention that I was driving out of a church parking lot.  

Yup.  I was about to lose it over a mom driving her kids home from church.  

And if you thought that was bad, just wait! There’s more….

About 10 minutes later, a little green Nissan Leaf  (at least it wasn’t a Prius- don’t even get me started on freaking Priuses) cuts me off, the driver completely oblivious to life as we know it, and goes so impossibly slow, I turn to my friend again with my best are you freaking kidding me face (I’m pretty expressive and make all kinds of fun faces, but “freak out” is one of my favorites).  That’s when I looked at my speedometer and I realize that Mr. Leaf is going—you guessed it—the speed limit.  

Not only did I get mad at mommy driving her kids home from church, I then got downright pissed at an environmentally friendly vehicle going the speed limit.  

There was nothing left to do but burst into laughter.  Two signs, one message. 

Slow down. 

This lesson makes sense, because my life has been a bit in limbo lately—a little slower than I’d like. I have a lot up in the air with my career, school, relationships.  And let me tell you, it sucks.

But I’ve realized that this uncertainty, it’s part of the plan, too.  That God has me in this season for a reason.

And I’ve figured out one of the reasons.  

Get ready for a truly deep insight: The biggest lesson I’ve learned…(drumroll)…is that I’m learning lots of lessons. 

BOOM. 

I know what you’re thinking: Gee, thanks Einstein.  But this is good stuff so bear with me. 

I know lessons have been thrown at me my whole life.  And I’m sure busy-and-important me caught one here or there.  

But now that I’m slowing down and being more present to them, I’m realizing there are incredible lessons being hurled at me all the time.  Lately, I’ve been almost overwhelmed by them.  

And these lessons, they’re game changers.  Little treasures have stretched me far out of my comfort zone, and have made me stronger, braver, wiser.  And the most painful experiences?  They’ve been my biggest teachers. 

Being in this place is interesting because on the one hand: WOW! To think that I almost missed these awesome lessons!  And on the other hand: CRAP! What have I been missing?

So I’m learning to be grateful for this time.  Keeping in mind that if I go too fast, I might miss what God is trying to show me.  Remembering that I need to slow down, be patient (ugh one of my least favorite words), and let him lead me. 

My morning devotional* reminded me: 

I am leading you, step by step, through your life.  Hold my hand in trusting dependence, letting me guide you through this day.  Your future looks uncertain and feels flimsy- even precarious…Whenever you find yourself worrying about the future, repent and return to me.

Maybe going fast isn’t always best.  Maybe I’ll even try driving the speed limit. Maybe. 

*From Jesus Calling, my favorite devotional of all time forever and ever, Amen. 

MVP of Busyness

This is how my dog feels about me being so busy.

I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty addicted to my iPhone.

As I sat down to write, a new email popped up (Squirrel!), I received a Facebook notification (Squirrel!) and I received a phone call from my dad and a random number in Arizona (Squirrel! Squirrel!).

And the craziness doesn’t stop with my phone.  Right now I’m juggling two loads of laundry, I just started the dishwasher, I was just reminded that my car is due for service, and I just ran out of dog food.  I have a presentation due today at 12 noon which I somehow need to work on between studying for nutrition school, getting to the gym to train for the half marathon I just committed to, and meeting a friend for coffee.  My schedule is so ridiculous that when a friend asked if I had time to talk yesterday, I told him I could squeeze him in roughly between 5:00-5:15, before getting heading to a dinner.   

If Busyness was a sport, I’d be MVP, 18-time Pro Bowl selected Champion of the World. (Yes, I’m still having off-season football withdrawals.  I think I need to pick up a new sport.  A friend told me I should get into something called “baseball”).

It’s so easy to be busy, isn’t it?  And the funny thing is, being this busy hasn’t made me better at multi-tasking, it’s actually made me worse. 

Don’t get me wrong, these aren’t all bad things.  In fact, I’m grateful that I have so many fun things and people in my life. 

But.  Sometimes, being this busy is just downright distracting.  Especially when it pulls me away from God.

It’s sad to me how I find it sooooo difficult to just be still. 

I was reminded twice yesterday of how important this is. 

My friend that I was able to chat with between 5:00-5:15, is in the middle of making a big decision.   After seeking advice from 80 friends, reading countless devotionals, and going to church, we came to the conclusion that maybe he should, you know, pray about it. 

This lesson tied in well with my devotional yesterday*.  

Thank me for the conditions that are requiring you to be still.  Do not spoil these quiet hours by wishing them away, waiting impatiently to be active again.  Quietness and trust enhance your awareness of My Presence with you.  

I took these lessons to heart. While I’m committed every morning to spending time reading a devotional (ok sometimes 3), and praying, I’ve realized that I’m really good at having one-way conversations with God:

Good Morning God! I pray for this and that!  Thank you very much, Goodbye.

I’m not very good and stopping and listening.  At being still.

So this morning I incorporated a new ritual.  I set my stopwatch for 5 minutes (I know, kinda lame).  And I sat there.  I’m not gonna lie, my mind wandered a lot.  I thought about what a friend taught me once: breathe out Let Go, breathe in Let God.  That worked for roughly 27 seconds.

But I did it.  And I know with time, I’ll get better.  But right now, if you’ll excuse me, apparently I have a new email from Bank of America…

* I have read Jesus Calling every morning for 4 years.   It’s hands down my favorite devotional of all time.  I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve read the day’s devotional and it’s applied to exactly what’s going on in my life at that moment.  Pretty freaking awesome.  

Let's Talk About Food

Yes, I'm that girl.  I take pictures of my food.
But look at this thing (I forget what it is, some tartlet with figs):
are you kidding me with how beautiful it is?

I’d like to take a second to talk about food. 

Who am I kidding, I’d really like to take about 3 years to talk about food, but in the interest of moving on with my life, I’ll try to keep this brief.

Ahhh food.  So many emotions pop up when I think about you.  

Happy memories of baking candy cane-shaped sugar cookies every Christmas with my mom and sisters.  I’d crush actual candy canes and sprinkle them on top.  I realize now that lots of people do this, but as a kid, I thought I was a freaking genius.

Proud memories of making my first completely-from-scratch Thanksgiving Caramel Apple Deep Dish Pie.   Why yes, it was as amazing as it sounds.  In fact, it won our family pie contest, for which I was the totally unbiased judge.

Anxious memories of being so stressed out at my job in New York that on my way home one day, I ran into Momofuku Milk Bar (my mouth is salivating just thinking about this heavenly place) and ordered 3 giant cookies and 6 birthday cake truffles, telling the lady at the counter (who could care less) that they weren’t for me –oh no, ma’am—they were for a friend’s birthday.  I scarfed down the entire bag in the 3 blocks it took me to walk home.  

Sad memories of sitting on my couch and stuffing my face with Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream when I realized my marriage was over.

Stuffing is such a fitting word.  Stuffing my face, stuffing my feelings.  I would eat so I didn’t have to feel anything.  I would eat when I was happy, sad, bored, stressed, depressed.  And occasionally, when I was hungry.

Food was my drug.  My Good Girl drug of choice.  I didn’t smoke, I didn’t sleep around, I didn’t have any weird piercings (Confession: I may have gotten a tattoo when I was 19 that I now hate.  My mom was absolutely right). 

But I did like food a whole lot.  It was a totally legal secret that I struggled with for almost 20 years.

A friend asked me recently if I was on the other side.  I replied, Yes and No.

Yes, that food is no longer an all-consuming, overpowering, fanatical obsession that occupies my every waking thought.

No, that it’s still a daily struggle.  One that I am totally dependent on God to help me through.

My favorite devotional, Jesus Calling by Sarah Young, reminded me today:

“Thank me when things do not go your way, because spiritual blessings come wrapped in trials.  Rejoice in the face of hardship.” 

And this:

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds.” – James 1:2

 I have always had a problem with that verse.  Wait, you want me to do what?  Rejoice in my sufferings?  Uh, no thanks.

While this is not an easy thing to do (in fact, sometimes it’s so difficult I get downright pissed trying to do it), I understand it more now.

I used to think of this issue as a curse (Why God, why would you do this to me?), but now I’m seeing it as a blessing, as odd as that may sound. 

Two reasons:

1. I can’t do this by myself (I tried; that didn’t work out so well). It requires my daily surrender to God for help.

2. Being open and honest about my little secret has opened the door for so many others to share with me that they struggle with it too!

If you identify with this in any way, at the very least, I hope one thing is clear: you are not alone.  

Ok that came out a little creepy.  Here’s what I mean:  I get it.  And trust me, a LOT of other people get it.  And God--he gets it, too. 

How Do You Start Your Morning?

I just love little pumpkins.  And this little candle.
It's the little things, you know?

I love my morning ritual.  After being woken up by my ridiculously energetic dog (who is thankfully adorable), we take a nice long walk along a beautiful tree-lined creek, singing "Good Morning" to Daisy's friends--fellow dogs and the cutest little cottontail bunnies--along the way.  (I know I sound like Snow White in this little story, but this is seriously how amazing my morning is).

When I get back, I make a warm and hearty bowl of oatmeal with chia seeds and bananas, lightly dusted with cinnamon, and sip Sweet and Spicy Tea with a dash of almond milk.  YUM.

After breakfast, I pull out my Women of Faith Bible and Jesus Calling, my lovingly worn devotional that I've read nearly every day for the last 4 years.  It never fails to comfort me.  But the crazy part?  More often than not, the day's message is exactly what I need to hear.  God is pretty amazing that way, you know?  

"In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly." Psalm 5:3 NIV