My Desire

I want to be Kara to someone. Not Rachel’s sister, or Katie’s roommate, or that person at my job or in my church who knows that other person or knows how to do that one thing… although I am all of this. But first and foremost, I want to be Kara first to someone.

I want people to see me: a woman in love with God and passionate about his people, who thrives in community and loves getting away to nature (as long as it includes a campfire with friends). A person who sees the good in others (possibly to a fault). Someone who loves to laugh as much as she loves the serious conversations. Terrible with names but great with stories. Awful with directions but a heart for adventure. Loves kids but feels like newborns are a little too fragile for their own good. A knack for getting into just enough trouble that it usually makes for a good story… eventually. Someone you sometimes have to have patience with, but will almost always have patience with you. A curious mind who loves learning from others and sharing what she knows. Generous and thoughtful but sometimes distracted. A person who loves music and dancing but doesn’t know how to dance with someone else. A good heart with a spark of mischief in her eyes, fighting for authenticity in a world that seems to want only her conformity.

When it comes to dating, I sit in a sort of peace. My life is better than it has ever been before, and I have a satisfaction in my singleness (although I certainly desire relationship). I am confident in the love God has for me, the joy God feels in my obedience and the mercy God shows me in my spiritual adolescence. But I sometimes wonder if I’m getting something wrong; in moments of frustration or confusion I ask God, “Is it only you who can love me? Am I so unlovable?” Most of the time I know this is a lie, and I recognize the attack that comes against me in these moments and think, something good must be coming if the enemy would throw so much of his weight against me. And so I trust. And I wait. And I focus on becoming the person God asks me to be.

Fear of the Unknown

There is an unusual intimacy


when my eyes meet yours;


the sense of being alone swelling


as the party grows full of noises and movement.


There are no words between us.


No place where your skin presses against mine.


But eyes meeting across any distance


leave no space for anyone else.


In those moments we are alone, together.


I am vulnerable as my soul peeks out at you.


What were seconds felt like minutes.


What were minutes felt like hours.


I turn and my soul settles back in


and you’re left watching me leave.


In the dark of the cool evening


I find a different kind of Loneliness


Whose familiarity comforts me


As I disappear into the welcoming shadows.