A pinch of this and a dash of that. Or was it a dash of this and a pinch of that?

The past three days, though varying vastly in their make-up, have all had one thing, one activity in common. Baking.

I don't know how it happens, but somehow, I find myself in the kitchen comparing the ingredients in my cupboard with the ingredients listed on the pages of my recipe books until I find a match. I hardly ever plan to bake, unless it is for a birthday or special event, but spontaneous baking ventures are a commonality in my home.

On Tuesday, I had an hour or so before small group began, so I tried my hand at oatmeal banana bread. This supposedly healthy recipe (I am still skeptical that anything that good could be healthy) replaced white sugar with oats. Somehow, the bread still turned out and the recipe is definitely going on a card in my kitchen. Wednesday's snack was not quite as adventurous. I grabbed the first thing I saw in my cupboard, boxed brownies, knowing I would only have to add a few ingredients I knew I had in my cupboard. Luckily I came home from my church's youth group with none left.

Thursday, however, was unusually chilly for April. I am convinced Oklahoma is trying to fit in every type of weather and natural disaster into one month. Luckily, I don't think any tsunami's or hurricanes will reach our dear state. Anyways, after a long, busy day at work, I was ready to unwind and de-stress. I made hot tea and curled up on the couch with a blanket. After a little bit, I realized I could not ignore the facts. It was baking weather. There's just something about baking on a blustery day. Ree Drummond, a go to in my home, had the perfect match up for my kitchen yesterday afternoon. Coffee cake.

You are probably wondering why I am sitting here listing all of the calorie intensive foods I have been filling my kitchen with this week (I promise I don't eat it all). I'm getting to the point. I promise.

As I mixed up the ingredients for my coffee cake, a thought crossed my mind that often does when baking. I am a very logical person and often want to know why things are the way they are, leaving me with questions I don't always have the answers to. As I put in teaspoonfuls of baking powder on top of 4 cups of flour, I started to wonder how all of the ingredients are evenly distrubuted so each part of the batter turns out right. What if part of the batter didn't get the right proportion of baking soda? Or salt for that matter? The same thought crosses my mind every time I bake cookies or any other baked good, leaving me stirring together my ingredients for an unecessary length of time.

Regardless of my ponderings about mixing dough and batter, the facts can't be ignored. If I follow the recipe (assuming its a good one) and mix the right ingredients together, the product will be good. The ingredients go to all the right places, and each piece turns out as intended.

I ask the same kind of questions I do about baking in my own spiritual walk. When I spend time reading books, listening to a speaker or mentor, or reading the Word, I often find myself making lists of things I need to work on or change and, in turn, become stressed about making sure I apply all the right points in all of the right places.

While I absolutely think it is important to make applications from the things we learn, I sometimes forget the output that comes alone from filling my life with the right things. I am not alone in making sure the things that go into my mind and heart fit together perfectly. The Holy Spirit is there to guide me and work on me continue to transform my heart in mind into the woman God wants me to be. God is the master baker, and he is there to make sure it all gets mixed together correctly.

We have so many ingredients to choose from. We can choose to fill our lives with possessions, selfish desires, and unhealthy relationships, or we can choose to fill our lives with the "ingredients" the Lord has laid out for us. Our lives will yield what we choose to fill them up with. The resources, people, and experiences placed in our paths by the Lord serve as the recipe to a healthy spiritual walk. We may not even notice at the time some of the small things the the Lord places a pinch of in our lives that make a dramatic difference in the outcome of who we will become.

I am thankful for recipe books and I am thankful for Ree Drummond's coffee cake. But, most of all, I am thankful that God has a recipe for my life and knows how to mix and knead every little piece of it together perfectly.

Manic Monday

A week ago yesterday, I got in my car to drive to work as usual. The weekend had passed, my alarm went off, and sure enough, it was Monday. Funny how that beloved day of the week (I hope you can sense my sarcasm) always comes back around. I hit snooze on my phone a few too many times, and, as a result, I spent my morning rushing around my apartment so I could make it out the door in time.

I got in my car, turned on the radio, and got on the highway toward downtown. Morning commutes
and the traffic therein is baffling. It makes no sense that a group of cars moving in the same direction with the same intent to get to work could move so slowly so consistently. Half of the time I am convinced a major wreck has to be up ahead considering the traffic flow. However, I am always surprised to find that the backup was due to not a wreck, but impatient drivers constantly changing lanes to try to get to their destination more quickly, when really they are only facilitating their own problems.

On this particular Monday, the backup seemed particularly daunting. I braked. I accelerated. We sped up. We slowed down. This pattern, however, threw an unexpected curve into my morning. At the point when traffic seemed to speed up, the woman in front of me slammed on her brakes as a part of a chain reaction to the driver in front of her doing the same thing. I, in turn, slammed on my brakes, but unfortunately was not able to avoid giving the car in front of me a friendly little tap in the rear.

I went into panic mode as we both pulled over to the shoulder. As the woman got out of her car and began to talk to me, I was immediately thankful. I was expecting a beefed up man with road rage akin to those in drivers ed vhs tapes. Instead, I was met by a kind woman in her early 30's. We looked at both of our cars, and thankfully there wasn't any visible damage on either end. We exchanged information and a hug, but she said she most likely wouldn't call (She never did).

Getting back in my car, I was thankful no one was hurt and that no damage was done, but still I was off kilter, shaken, and only one sentence ran through my head. "Today is such a Monday already."

Little did I know what that Monday had in store for me. After staff meeting, I decided to take an early lunch at my desk. Everyone else was out of the office, but I was ready for some time alone. As I sat down at my desk, the tension I felt about my morning was unbearable so I did the only thing I knew to do. I stopped and prayed. I prayed that the Lord would change my perspective on my Monday. I prayed I wouldn't miss any opportunites He placed in front of me to be a blessing to others and that I would take focus off of myself.

Not too long after that, I made a call to a client to schedule a photograph. Right before I hung up, I heard these words from the sweet older man on the line. "Kelly, wait. Listen to me. Don't let anyone take your joy. Don't let anyone or anything that happens today make you mad. Can you promise me that?" I smiled on the other end of the receiver and promised him I wouldn't. My tension started to lessen.

An hour or so later, I was on the phone with a paint company about a donation. At the end of the phone call, I told the man that I hoped he had a great day. Here is what he said. "Every day is a good day. Even when they start off bad, something good always come along. We just have to look for the good in each day we are given."

After I hung up the phone, I whispered a thank you, knowing God had been using the receiving end of routine phone calls at work to answer my lunchtime prayer and change my perspective.

After my phone calls, I went out with a coworker to take some photographs at a client's home. When we got there, however, the woman was standing outside, realized she had locked her keys in her house, and to top it all off, she had just found out that one of her childhood best friends had just passed away. My Monday morning suddenly seemed trivial. We walked with her up and down the street making sure her keys hadn't fallen out of her pocket and ended up talking to her for a bit. Before we left, we exchanged a hug and a smile, and I suddenly knew we were right where we needed to be at the exact moment God intended. I didn't get my photographs. I didn't get to check off an item on my to-do list. None of that mattered though.

As we drove back to the office, I felt a complete change in my demeaner from a few hours earlier. I was no longer tense. I felt peace, thankfulness, and joy. God took my lunchtime prayer, humbled me, and  multiplied His answer to remind me of His presence and my true purpose in my day-to-day life.

I won't bore you with the details of the rest of my day, however, God didn't stop showing up in the hours following.

The thing is, God never stops showing up. I think too often, we just don't take off our blinders to see Him. We set our site on our problems and our priorites, and don't even look for the countless places God is showing up all around us. All I did was ask to see, and He more than opened my eyes. I don't want to go through life with Monday blinders over my eyes. Perhaps a lunchtime prayer is in order every day, every morning, before I begin my day.

Lord, show me You today and show me how to share your love in my day. Remove my blinders and my agenda. Give me your eyes and your perfect will. 

Mondays come every week. This week's held a horrific tragedy in Boston that weighs heavily on so many hearts. As I drove to work today, I heard a quote from Mr. Rogers. He said that when he saw scary things on the news growing up, his dad would tell him to look for the helpers. There are always helpers.

It is hard to see the good in horrific situations, or even in a troubling morning. Whether your "Monday" is on a Thursday moring or a Tuesday evening, remember that there is always good. There is always God. He is always there. He is the light. We just have to open our eyes. Tragedy's ensue, change is inevitable, and our world is unpredictable. Remember not to lock your eyes only on the tragedy. Don't hone in on the Monday.

Be the helper. Look toward The Helper. His love is unchanging. His presence is constant.

The words that changed my life.

A couple of weeks ago, I was in an airport traveling to visit family in Phoenix. As usual, I arrived at the airport two hours early. Even though I know that is entirely unnecessary, I have come to relish the ample time I give myself between arriving at the airport and getting in line at my gate. If you follow my blog or know me in person, you might think I have some sort of airport fetish. If that term can be used in a positive light, I will gladly take ownership of it. Airports, in my opinion, are some of the most mesmerizing, awe inspiring places one could possibly visit. As soon as I make my way through the automatic doors, curiosity overtakes me, I take in a deep breath, and await the conversation I know is awaiting me inside those walls or the confines of my flight.

On this particular day, my timeliness turned out to backfire, or so I thought. After making my way through security, a notice came over the intercom announcing that a flight would be delayed for 2 hours due to mechanical issues on the incoming flight. I checked my boarding pass, and sure enough, it was my flight. A friend had been gracious enough to drop me off at the airport so I wouldn't have to pay to park for a week. In turn, I was now at the airport with 4 hours to spare instead of two. I opted for the sit down restaurant to kill some time. Within my memory, this was the first time I have ever eaten at a sit down restaurant alone, and I can't say I hated it. During that dinner, I finished reading what now I would say is one of the greatest stories and testimonies I have ever read. If Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis isn't on your reading list, I suggest you add it. The author's constant faith for the Lord's provision day to day both floored and inspired me with each page I turned.

After leaving the restaurant, I headed to my terminal. I had successfully knocked out one hour. After sitting for a few minutes, a man came up to me and said, "You're still here?". As a girl alone in an airport, I was a little thrown off and gave the man a reluctant glance. He proceeded to tell me we had gone through security together, and then I realized that he did look familiar and that we had briefly spoken only an hour and half earlier. I'm too young to have short term memory loss, right? I'm starting to wonder.

We got into a conversation and soon realized we were on the same flight to Phoenix. He told me about his family, wife, and kids and I told him about my job and the family I was headed to visit in Arizona. The more I talked to him, the more I began to see his family's story unfold before my eyes, and I was once again reminded of the extraordinary qualities only an airport terminal can hold. As it turned out, his son was a two time leukemia survivor. He fought twice and won the battle. His son's name is Ben. During his battle, Ben was given the opportunity to have a wish granted by the Make a Wish Foundation. I have always been intrigued by this organization, seeing the wishes granted to meet famous athletes and musicians, take once in a life time trips, and most of all by the smiles they bring to a child's face in what may be the darkest times their family will ever face.

Ben's dad assured me that the parents have no sway in the child's wish decision. He assured me that if he had a choice, he would have urged Ben to ask the foundation for a brand new Ferrari. Ben, however, had different plans. He wished to create a video game that would help other kids who, too, were battling cancer. He was given the opportunity to work with a famous video game designer, and they created a game where a kid on a skateboard was on a mission to battle the different symptoms of cancer symbolized in different forms. The game is now in five different languages and is still being used today. Ben was even honored by the Dalai Lama for his wish. What?! (I googled it. It's true.) The man told me this all occurred when his son was 11. He is now 18 and attending school to become a doctor so he can help children who are battling leukemia.

The man told me that he and his wife wanted to have more kids but didn't because of their family's long battle with Ben's leukemia. However, it is never too late to create a new chapter in your story. The man proved that as I continued to listen. Two years ago, he and his wife adopted an 11 year old girl they had been fostering into their family. He told me they had the means to give her a family, so it was a no brainer to make it official since they had already fallen in love with her. He went on to tell me that I would love his wife. He told me that she loves adventure and wakes up every Sunday morning to put the family in the car to drive in any given direction until they find a place they want to stop that they have never been.

The man told me he had traveled all over the world and asked if I like to travel. I told him I would love to travel, but didn't have the means to do so at the current time. He then proceeded to give me some advice. He said to figure out a way to make it happen. If I dreamed it up, I should do it. He said, "Live your life. It's an adventure. Don't let it pass you by."

Often I hear statements like the one the man I met in the Tulsa airport terminal spoke. However, his actions and stories backed up his words. The expression on his face and the joy in his voice when talking about his family were sentiments of a life well lived, wisdom through adversity, and a passion for living life to it's fullest no matter what is thrown in the way.

My flight delay turned out to be a blessing in disguise, an opportunity to listen and take in that could have passed me by. Those who don't know me very well may say that I am quiet. I choose to say that I just enjoy listening. Behind each person, each moment, and each place there is a story waiting to be told. A story that needs a listening ear. A story that is waiting to tug at heartstrings and change a life.

How many times do I miss out on an awe inspiring moment the Lord places in front of me just because I don't take the time to stop and listen to the words and the emotion behind them? I don't have a count, but there is one thing I know. I never regret the times I take to stop and listen, and I continue to be floored by the stories the Lord places in my path. Words spoken by others have the power to effect change. Whether it is an "I love you" from a family member, words on the pages of a book,  or a story spoken by a stranger, don't underestimate the timing and the purpose of the words in your path. 

In an airport last month, I was reminded that life is short and that there are no guarantees. I was inspired by the selfless heart of an eleven year old boy I have never met and received encouragement to evaluate the kind of story I want to live, all because I took my headphones out to take in the words of a stranger.

As you are going through your day, week, month, and year, I encourage you to take some time to ask the Lord to show you where He wants you to stop and listen. We are all walking this journey of life together, and I know that is no coincidence. We can all learn not only from our mistakes and triumphs, but also from the stories and the words of others.

There are incredible stories being lived every day. I can only hope I get to hear the words that comprise a handful of them. Looks like I need to make those travel plans and visit a few more terminals soon.