Swiftly still.

When you become aware of the fact that life is a constant series of transitions, it makes the things that are constant that much more important. It's like, when you see a rushing river, and you notice the rock in the middle that causes the swiftness of the water to part ways, even if only for a moment. The water continues to move, of course, but it is forced to move aside, because it is not as stable or strong as the rock that it is trying to move past. It is still, and it is constant.

I look back at the moving water of my life and I see friendships that have been gained and lost, I see hopes that have come true, and fears that have also. I see an immense amount of growth. I see different homes, and places, and people.

All of these things add to the swiftness of my river. They make the water go faster and make it hard to remember what it's life to be still. How can one be still when it is caught in a strong current?

In order to be still in the river, we must take a moment to grab ahold of the rocks. We can hold on to that one still piece of land, and rest for awhile, and we can know that it will always be there. It is understood that one must keep going through the current, but it is also understood that one must take a few moments to sit on the bank, or hold onto the rock.

Lately, in this river of life, I have tried to stop and learn what my rocks are. What are the things that have remained constant in my life? The things that have kept up with my adventures. The things that have remained still, even when I kept moving.

As I looked back, some things that had provided stillness for awhile had been loosened as the pace of the river quickened, and were no longer still. But, some things I was able to find had remained still, always.

One of these things is my brothers. Lately, I have been overwhelmed by the swiftness of everything. My brother soon to be married, my other brother soon to graduate. It seems as if the river is getting faster, and I am putting all of my emotional energy into stopping it. I started to get so upset that we kept growing up, and, with that, growing further and further away from each other. We have experienced things, met people, learned things, that we will never be able to fully articulate to each other.

Here is the wonderful thing, though. My brothers are there, they always have been, and they always will be. We have been through really hard times together, really happy times together, and impossibly funny times together. And, although we no longer get to experience each other's day-to-day beings, we no what makes each other tick. I know that with one brother I get to talk about J.D. Salinger and Animal Collective any day. And with the other, I can talk about N.T. Wright, and Ryan Adams. I am thankful for brothers that I want to spend time with, not just have to. And, in this time of growing and transitioning, I am able to understand that my brother are like rocks. They are a part of my life, and they always will be. They will cause the water to move aside, even if only for a moment. And I am so thankful for that.

So, let us not get caught in the current.
Let us remember to hold onto the rocks, to understand stillness, and to be grateful.

and let us understand that without the current, we wouldn't be able to fully appreciate the stillness.



[This day was swift, but it was beautiful.]

Profound benevolence.

This is the longest that I have ever gone without writing a blog. There is several times that I have sat down, thought of a clever title, and began to write. However, it never turned into anything. I could never hold on to a thought long enough to articulate it. And, to be quite honest, it was killing me. I hated that I couldn't write. I felt like I had so much to say, but something in me was blocking my ability to make my thoughts into words. These past two months have been up and down, here and there, and this and that. They have been hard, but they have been good. I have grown, and I continue to grow. I mean, life is a series of transitions and changes, isn't it?

In my desperate attempt to use words carefully and meaningfully (largley insprited by shakespeare, c.s lewis, and ) I find myself using a dictionary more than I ever have in my life. I love to look up commonly used words, and see what other words are used to describe the one that I have looked up. And, usually, it's pretty surprising and makes me think really hard about the words that I am using and how I am often using words incorrectly.

One of these words that has made me think the most is importance.
Now, when you look up the word "important" in the dictionary, you get: of great significance or value; likely to have a profound effect on your well-being. When I read this definition I thought about all of the things in my life that I am treating with importance that do not have a profound affect on my well-being. In fact, they don't really matter at all. Immediately after thinking this thought, my mind traveled to thinking about all of the things that are having a profound effect on my well-being that I am treating of no importance at all.

Not only did this realization help me sort out my priorities, but it also opened up my eyes to notice important things in my life that I had never realized before. Certain books, sunsets, good conversations, postcards, certain emails, letters, pictures, and sometimes, even just a really long drive.

And also, writing...

So, why, now, do I write? I write because it is something that I love to do. It helps me process things. It helps me learn things. And, through the grace of God, it helps other people learn things too. To be honest, I think that the main reason I stopped writing was because I lost all confidence in it. I didn't see any quality in the things I was saying, the the way I was saying them. And I gave in to the spinning vortex that is self-doubt. I stayed there for awhile. I am thankful for it this time, because while I was at the bottom of everything, I had honest people there that asked me honest questions. And as I answered them, I could feel myself standing up a little straighter, and smiling a little bigger. People were there to love me in a way that didn't look like, "Hey, everything will be fine... So, anyway..." There were there to love me in a way that looked like, "Kinsley, you are wrong." and "I want to come alongside you and help you." It was a beautiful love that I needed. Although this honest love was sometimes hard to swallow, it was always paired with kindness- not false "make you feel better" kindness... but genuine benevolence.

And kindness is important.

During these months of growth, the amount of kindness that has been thrown my way has been incredible. And the great thing about kindness, is it comes in all sorts of ways. Conversations of literature and of concerts. Free coffee. A few words here and there. A letter. Help. Dinner. Honesty. Questions. or Cheesecake.

So, recognize the things in your life that are important.
and put all the other things in different categories.
Be kind to the people around you. Buy them coffee, or smile at them.


and let us be people that profoundly effect each other's life.



[This is a picture that I took in a bookstore in Oxford that had a profound effect on me, indeed.]

So delicate and precise.

It's been ages, and for that, I apologize.

Lately, I feel as if growing up has been fast forwarded a bit. I had gotten quite used to the gradual process of learning lessons and slowly figuring out how to apply them to my life. We grow up delicately, so delicate, in fact, we barley notice our body growing taller until we look back at pictures from seventh grade when all your t-shrits were from thrift stores and your mouth was filled with braces. Seeing those pictures, however, makes us thankful for where we are now, I believe. Makes us appreciate our straight teeth, and the awkward conversation from our mothers telling us, "you know, sweetheart, you're going to have to stop wearing t-shirts eventually."

However, sometimes, the changes aren't as slow as the (forever) long process of shifting teeth. Sometimes they are unexpected. Sometimes they completely shake your world, or wake up a part of your brain and/or heart that you thought was long asleep or forgotten.

It's interesting that in my last post, I talked of disruptions. How important they are, how much they are necessary to our lives. When I was writing the post, I thought that I was reflecting on an already disrupted mind set. I thought that I had, "come up on the other side" and was able to tell my tale of routine-ruining. Little did I know, however, this would be only the beginning of a long series of plot twists. Some of them small, some of them exciting, some of them life changing, and some of them terrifying.

I feel like my entire life, people have been telling me to conquer hard situations. But, what does that even mean? Is it an inspirational way of telling someone to "get over it?" Lately, I have realized that there are some things that I thought were "conquered" in my life. Certain things that were over, had been dealt with, and would never really have to be re-visted. Because, when one conquers a village, they don't go back and few years later and try to conquer it again. That's just silly. And this is the mindset that I was living with. But it's impossible and entirely untrue.

Once something is broken, it stays broken. No matter how strong your super glue is , you can always tell that it's not just not whole. If you are to ignore it's brokenness, however, it will only become more fragile. Even if, on the surface, things seem to working as usual, the foundation is crumbling because it is not being held together by what it once was.

However, if you recognize the brokenness, you can learn how to best accommodate. We can understand that it is fragile, and treat it with more tenderness and patience than we would something that is perfect.

Now, please understand that the recognition of brokenness isn't easy. At all. It can come suddenly, and when it does, it hurts like hell. The recognition of the brokenness in my own life has brought back memories that I had buried deep inside of me, conversations that I had never thought would take place, and a lot of hard days. And some days, it seems impossible and I beg for ignorance, because ignoring things is so much easier.

However, I know that this it. This is life, and no one ever promised me it would easy. I know that this is not something I have to "conquer." It is something that is disrupting my life, and making me grow. And I am so thankful for a God who sees the ugliness and brokenness of my heart, and forgives me anyway. And who says, "You are not alone."



Together, we much recognize our own brokenness.
We must treat each other with tenderness, love, patience, and kindness.
Because we are fragile beings.
and let us remember that

We are not alone.







Happy new year, friends.

A Disruption of Hospitality.

This weekend, I hopped in a van with some friends and drove to Milwaukee. I caught a ride from them after I overheard them talking about going home for the weekend, and decided to visit some friends in the area. The road trip was filled with laughter, sleeping, and conversations about the importance of Outkast and the evolution of music, according to our lives.

After being dropped off in downtown Milwaukee, my dear friend picked me up on a curb, and took me to one of the cutest coffee shops I have ever been to, filled with a lovely staff, organic scones, and incredibly appealing light fixtures. After having a wonderful and refreshing conversation, I was dropped off at another friends house for the rest of the weekend.

Now, this house isn't really like others. There is a certain warmness about this place that I will never be able to fully articulate. Upon entering, you are hit with a rush of love and joy that fill every corner of the home. The house is located on a small lake, that sometimes looks impossibly still. There is a handmade pier that juts out into the lake, submerging you in it's beauty. The house is framed in trees, but the sun always seems to make it's way through at all the right times. I was staying in a room with 5 windows all pointed towards the lake. It's the closest thing to sleeping outside, without sleeping outside. Laying in my bed, I couldn't help but notice the tree branches stretching towards that sky, and the majesty of the stars perfectly placed between them. I was exhausted, but fighting to stay awake for the sake of keeping my eyes open just a little bit longer.

The thing that gives this home the most beauty, however, is the family that lives in it. This family loves the way Jesus did. They understand what it means to be hospitable in the name of the Lord, which is the most beautiful kind. They all love God in a unique and real way that is so encouraging to witness. I see Jesus in the way they are as individuals, and as a working family unit. They have an indubitable understanding of the character of God, and live their lives accordingly. This family has been through a kind of suffering that I can't understand, and wouldn't know if I could bear, but they love so loudly throughout it all. Spending time with them this weekend completely shattered this "college routine" that I had gotten so stuck in since being at Taylor. They reminded me what it was like to have a living and breathing relationship with God.

They disrupted my life in the best possible way.

This idea of "disruption" came from a church service that I attended this morning with this family. He was talking about the importance of open-mindedness and the danger of becoming black and white with our framework of reality. The whole service, I sat there as each word went into my ear and straight down to my heart.

The word "disruption" I feel has a connotation of something that happens suddenly, without warning, and often, annoying. It almost makes it seems that disruptions are an inevitable force of nature.

I would like to suggest, however, that we must seek disruption in our lives.

Capernwray completely shattered my ideas of myself, my relationship with God, and Christianity as whole. This was the best thing that ever happened to me, and while I was going through it, I kept think that this was the one time in my life that I would be broken, and that my new ideas from the lectures and fellow students would stay forever. I have come to realize, however, that keeping the things I learned at Capernwray is a daily effort that I most actively be watering and nurturing.


I need to understand what it means to seek disruption for the sake of growth.


Let us not be controlled by our routine and become comfortable.

Let us be disrupted, and let us be the ones to disrupt.

and, let us do it for His sake, with His grace.




Now, please, go on an adventure, and ruin your routine.

Minimums for Maximums.

College, so far, is hectic balancing act of social interactions, extra curricular activities, new people, and, yes, of course, academia. I am taking quite an easy schedule this semester, which is nice. I get to do a lot of things that I wouldn't normally be able to do, and get really plugged into the community that defines Taylor. It's great. I've already had some really wonderful experiences, and it's not even Thanksgiving yet.

Now, I'm not sure if you are aware, but at college, I am required to take classes with other human beings. This means that learning takes place not only through the knowledge of professors and the text that we study, but also from the input of other classmates that have, sometimes, very strong opinions. It's so important to learn from one another. What a poem means to one person, means something entirely different to another. True learning only takes place within a community. Ya know, the whole iron sharpens iron thing.

Something that I have seen in every classroom, however, is a group of people that simply want to get things done. They want the grade, they want the teacher to think they are intelligent, and they want to do it in a way that requires the least amount of work. They are building a beautiful home with all the decorations and furnishings of a perfect student, but they are building it on sand. Efficiency becomes the most important thing, and excellence isn't even considered. I just participated in a class that was student-led. The professor wasn't there, a college kids dream, right? But we were left with specific instructions of what to do. The assignment was fairly simple, something we could've gotten done in half the class time. Instead, we just schemed and made-up brilliant ways to make it look like we did what was assigned to us. We were planning these mistaken impressions, while, every five minutes the cliche kid in the corner chimed in with a banal, "Can't we just... leave?"

Now, I am avid user of sparknotes, and don't always things get done by their due date, but I also have a hunger for knowledge, and a responsibility of excellence. "Blah blah blah education is power. Blah blah blah education is a gift." I realize that I'm being painfully cliche here, and, if you have any experience in an educational facility, you've been told not to take advantage of your education. But all of these people are aware of that. They are just lazy, and they work hard at being lazy. Ironic, huh?

I want to embrace the quality of being outstanding, and apply it to everything I do.

Because of the love of God, I am already set apart.. so why don't I start acting like it?

We need to understand that the result of a situation is not what we're working for. It's the journey that gets us there. It's the long hours in the night when we only have one more page to go, it's the proofreading, it's the re-reading, it's riding our bike instead of taking our cars, and it's cooking a meal instead of grabbing something to go.

We are all excellent creatures.


So, friends, let's get off of the lift, and hike up the mountain.
See you kids at the top.

The Recital of Events.

I've been working on a new blog for awhile now, and today, when I came back to work on it some more, I read it... changed some things... read it again... and then deleted it.

Today, I was reminded of why it is that I love to write.
I just want to tell a story. A story of significance. A story of honesty.
I want to be able to string together my day to day beings, struggles, and interactions in an eloquent way. And when all of these anecdotes make their long journey to articulation, I pray that they will point somewhere else entirely. I pray that they would point to the One who is really stringing all these things together.

I want to help someone. Not for the sake of myself, but for the sake of my God.

I am just so wildly in love with the stories of these other beings that are living around me. When I see someone, I just wonder who they are. Why they are where they are. Everyone is a story. A beautiful one.

We are stories of redemption, of adventure, of heartache, of epic success, and epic failure. Stories of love, of loss, of friendships, and of music.

The greatest things I've learned about life, love, and other mysteries (Point of Grace reference?- Absolutely.), have been from the stories of other people. Honest ones. Honesty, I believe, is the greatest teacher. It's when we all step down from our pedestals, and we realize that we are so fortunate to be creatures that experience grace. It's when we let our human struggles show, for the sake of the representation of the goodness of God. The sharing of stories is so important. Really.

It's just the brave ones who choose to write it down.

Today, this is my story:

God is good, and today I was reminded in so many different ways. Through the Swell Season's album Strict Joy (this album is beautiful in 100 different ways, it makes your heart speed up, and slow down, and gives you goosebumps at all the right times. These heartbreaking lyrics will remind you how to feel.), the smile of a familiar face, the inspiration of an unexpected conversation with an acquaintance, the keys of the piano, and the perfect breeze slightly blowing across campus.

Somedays, nothing can make you feel more alive than the wind kissing your cheeks and dancing across your eyelids.

So, my honest friends, go and live.
and may the story of your life burn brightly as you go.


(and also listen to Strict Joy. I promise you won't regret it.)

Momentary modulations.

Well, here I am. At college. And, after a week of surprising loneliness, awkward introductory conversations, creating new and beautiful friendships, and trying to remember how to study for things, I am finally feeling a sense of comfort. Ryan Adams is usually always playing through my speakers and all my pictures and ceramic bowls are choicely placed around my closet-like area in a poor attempt to make this feel like a temporary home (Why does Ryan Adams make me feel like I'm home...? I don't know. But it does.) Desk lamps, dried flowers, and carefully selected trinkets are what keeps me company in my small area- And I'm completely fine with that.

My transition to Taylor has been an interesting one, to say the least. (here we go again, kinsley... talking about transitions. what's new....) It's not at all what I expected. Going to Capernwray was indeed a leap of faith, but I was thrown into a room of people just like me. People ready and waiting for an adventure. People that were ready to meet strangers. And people that desperately wanted to be like Jesus. Coming to Taylor feels much like showing up late for a party.... a party full of strangers. A lot of strangers. Now, please understand that these strangers are some of the most lovely and kind and welcoming people in the world. And God has blessed me with a few very wonderful people that I care about a lot and couldn't imagine being here without. But still, this is unlike any of the adventures that I've experience before. I think I might be growing up, or something...

In a song, the key changes, and in this momentary modulation, we feel something. Whether this transition is slow and soft, or fast and chaotic, it gives us a feeling of excitement, and of progress. We can feel the song continuing and it makes our heart beat a little faster than before.. It becomes a part of us, even just for those few precious moments. And when the song ends, we are able to admire and dwell in it's completeness.

Right now, I can feel my life changing and transitioning at what feels like a rapid pace. And, like a song, with each key change, I get a bit more excited and a bit more scared.

But I am so joyful. More joyful than I have felt in a long time. God is showing me His love in brand new ways. He is showing me through loneliness, through a simple poem, through a certain prayer, through new friendships, through old ones, through the piano, through distance, through a certain someone that looks me right in the eye, through professors, through the life of living in a painfully small town, and through the knowledge that I am a beautiful, forgiven creation of God.


Let us remember to experience these momentary modulations with joy.
Let us remember that we are constantly transitioning, growing, and learning.
and Let us remember that we are not alone.



[Lately, I have been thinking so much about my short time in Edinburgh, Scotland. This picture is one of the most peaceful pictures I've ever taken and reminds me of how badly I would like to return to this beautiful city...(one day.)]