Thursday, January 7, 2016

Shy Girl

Words,
I loved to make their curvy shapes
and give lower case a its little umbrella.
I loved rearranging sounds like jewelry.
I could string them into symphonies
like Dixon Ticonderoga pencil.
I could nudge them into small whispering choirs,
like juicy plums in summer.
I could sprinkle words like stars,
shimmering adjectives
like smoky and rambunctious.
I could erase entire galaxies
with the pink nub of my pencil.
What I never understood is why
grown-ups make erasers so short.
As if they don’t want kids
to make any mistakes.

Maybe I wrote stories
because taping feathers to cardboard wings
couldn’t reach the summer sky.
Maybe I wrote so that I could build castles
and dragon nests, so I could
listen to whale songs,
explore forbidden forests,
and ride rollercoasters. 

Maybe I wrote
so that I could turn my sister
into a fly when she bugged me,
so I could heal the cancer in my uncle’s body
and most importantly, so that I could be loud.

Because I was always
the nice girl who couldn’t
speak up for herself.

Maybe I wrote because
shy girls are filled
with streamers of color
and deep oceans
and thunder
and stars.

Maybe I write because
shy girls, too,
need to be loud.


Thursday, April 9, 2015

Why Kids are the BEST

I'm so excited to share that I've been admitted to UW Seattle's Masters in Elementary Teaching Program! In the spirit of celebration, I thought I'd share my favorite kids quotes (because as we know, kids just say the darndest things.)



"Miss Sowers, did you know that I rode a dinosaur to school today?"
-Will, 4 years old

"Did you know that dinosaurs have to be naked all the time? They don't wear any clothes!"
-Noah, 5 years old

"Miss Sowers, did you know that you are older than my grandma? And she is older than Jesus!"
-LorieMae, a 4 year old who has no concept of time

"Miss Sowers, your hair looks different today. But don't worry, your face is still the same."
-2nd grader

"My dad did my pony today (pony= ponytail.) Yeah...he's not very good."
-Raya, 4 year old

My 5th grade nanny girl, Noelle, complaining about her sister: "She should be called 'Goodness Gracious!' and I should be called 'Number One Most Awesome,' because I am incredibly awesome."

Noelle's sister, Anya:
"Kendra, I have a really special present for you! I've been waiting to give it to you all day."
"Well, your presents have been awesome before, so I'm excited."

 When I stop the car at their house, she nearly flies at me from the back seat and before I can say, "Ah!!" she stamps my forehead with a rhino stamp! Whaat?
But it doesn't turn out like a rhino... it looks like a giant hickey.
Well, thanks, evil child. I should have known better.


"So, when we're born do we come down as a seed?"
"Um...yeah, kind of like that."
-Devin, 4 year old asking THE QUESTION

"Someday when I grow up, I'm going to marry my brother!"
-Raya, 4 years old

"Are we doing paper machete today?"
-4th grader

"Whad up, bwo!"
"Hey bwo!"
"Hey gee!"
-4 year olds with swag who can't pronounce their r's 

"Kendra, I think if you were a boy instead of a girl you'd be really buff."
(Thanks, but where'd that come from? I'm so skinny!)
-Noelle, 5th grade

"I was praying for you all night in my heart."
-Mia, 6 years old, when I was pretty sick last fall

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Oh No! It's FoMO!



“Kendra, I am experiencing some serious FoMO,” my friend confessed. “I am seriously afraid of missing out.”
She began to explain how the stresses of work, relationships, and needing more community couldn’t be more overwhelming. Being a twenty-something felt so overrated. I couldn’t agree more. Over the last couple years, I’d been riding the waves of sickness and heatbreak. FoMO – the fear of missing an opportunity and having regrets – was no stranger.
We’ve all been there. Ever scrolled through facebook on a bad day? Everyone’s life looks so much better. The dogs are cuter, the babies don’t cry, the sport stadiums are brighter, and look! two new engagements. Is everyone leaving us behind? And worse, our friends are out enjoying a night on the town. We are most definitely missing out.
Or perhaps you’re more familiar with FoMO’s cousin, YOLO (‘You only live once’)! Now I’m all down for some spontaneous fro yo, but it’s a delicate dance. We’ve all been swept up in the moment and thought later, WHAT happened? Then we have to tighten our budgets, loosen our belts, or cover up that butterfly tattoo or that hickey. It can make for some great stories and laughs, but sometimes it can be devastating.
Around the time of this conversation, I lost my Ipod touch. This made me acutely aware of my impulse to constantly be checking updates online. I didn’t want to miss out on the dialogue, but the world kept buzzing on without me. However, when I was forced to miss out, I became more available. I had a memorable conversation with the woman bagging my groceries. I could simply watch the sun dipping over Lake Washington. It was breathtaking, and it didn’t need to be everyone else’s moment, just mine.
My friend and I began to realize that at the heart of FoMO is some pretty crippling fear. The fear of being alone, unwanted, or unrecognized. Shouldn’t we be entitled to that vacation, that night out, that pay-raise, that relationship, that new car, that _____ ?
FoMO, if left to its own devises, never allows you to see what you already have.
At different times in my life, FoMO has tempted me to make decisions I knew were only temporarily satisfying, because waiting for something better is uncertain. I’ve also walked through days unknowingly clouded by jealousy and disappointment.
Sometimes, life just sucks. Sickness, loosing a great job, a dream, or someone you love can make FoMO seem inevitable. But every time I’ve stopped to name what I’m thankful for, these blessings exceed every fear, every disaster, every heartbreak.  
My ultimate solution is to stop focusing on myself and look to Jesus.
17 The Lord your God is in your midst,
    a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
    he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
-Zephaniah 3:17, ESV

18 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear.
-1st John 4:18, NIV
Then the buzz of FoMO disappears. Instead, there is peace. I remember that God wants me right here, right where I am in the midst of frustrating circumstances.
My wise friend said, “I think the original sin was because of FoMO.” If you’re a Christian, you believe this— that since the beginning of humanity, we naturally choose our own way over God’s best way…because we are afraid of missing out.
But you see, FoMO is an illusion. A trick.
In actuality, I’m not defined by how exciting or good my life is, but by God’s love for me. Whether rich or poor, sick or healthy, I am loved and have the opportunity to love others. I trust that God is working out all circumstances for good. This is the ultimate peace and satisfaction. Even if I made it to every social event, had the best loving relationships, a dog that didn’t poop, a millionaire’s budget, and lungs like Lance Armstrong’s, these blessings would dim in comparison with simply being with Jesus. I’ll take him any day over FoMO.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Chasing Stallions



photo by Makarova Viktoria

Don’t go chasing stallions.
When you first see it--
the black beauty, the pearl
in the wilderness --
you must not try to tame it.

I hear its thunder in the canyons
of loneliness – long drives,
Friday nights, hot summers, holidays.
I hear its laughter at weddings,
and in the first blush of spring,
shaking petals from its mane.
I watch it bow its head at funerals
like a graying soldier,
softened from years of sacrifice.

What is it like? To curl one’s fingers
in its mane and ride on the wings
of its thunder?

I’ve felt its shadow
for a fleeting moment—
the flash of its tail,
its lightning eyes.

But I am still chopping
dinner for one.
Sometimes my heart screams
out for Love like a hot kettle.

Aren’t we all sometimes
a foal in Love?
Can we help it?
And of the lesser perks,
who wouldn’t mind a foot rub?

But I’ve learned to not go chasing
into the desert with a bridle
and reins.
Our bridal dreams, our silly
schemes, we think we can
reign over Love?

We get our feet twisted
in the stirrups and a
plume of dirt in our faces.

So I say,
if Love wants me, let it come
softly as the night
when my eyes are closed,
and I’ve kicked off my chasing boots.

Then it can lower its great neck
and I can stroke its mane.
Then, finally, I will be ready
to ride along its thunder.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Sisters


Her dreams are red,
Loud as a steam engine,
Sharp as the blade of a rudder.

Mine are cherry morsels
Savored quietly,
Stems tied into a
Graceful knot.

She grasps for constellations—
A lion-hearted dreamer.
Soon she will be mingling among
Red carnations in Spain,
Lifting tappas to her tongue.

I’ll be watching the night sky
From our front porch,
Sitting in the echoes
Of our childhood home,
Strumming songs about tomorrow.

Am I grown up now?
Bending over a child's desk
Like a willow tree.
But haven't I always?
How eagerly I make myself into a shelter
For the ones I love.

Sister, how your feet itch
To wander!
You beautiful, red bird.

And I’ll travel many miles
In a few tiny steps.

How our same bones,
Same blood,
Love the world so intensely!

Me- the whisper
You- the roar.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

A Perfect Shield

It feels a little cliche and trite writing about thankfulness in November. 
I am about to share some photos with you that probably fit very nicely under the hashtags: #cute #colorful #MarthaStewart.
But that's not what this post is about.

Forget traditional obligation. I'm writing this because I've realized lately that thankfulness is a lot more like a shield in a war zone than a bouquet of daisies. It's a stubborn, relentless faith in the good things. It's deciding to stop rolling our eyes at our neighbor's thanksgiving feast when all we have is a tiny turkey. 

It's about refusing to let life roll by in black and white. 


Thankfulness doesn't have to be an event.
It can be a daily celebration.

"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I received help. My heart rejoices, and I give thanks to him with my song." ~Psalm 28:7

This is thankfulness -- active and necessary. Life-giving. Thankfulness in the war zone.  


Some days, it's a fight to be thankful. Lately, I've been struggling to accept a recent sickness in my life. A year ago, my doctor told me, "You will never be normal." I will get better on the spectrum of 'people with a gut condition,' but food won't ever be an easy pleasure. Some days, I would really like to be a typical, young person who can order take out, eat icecream, or take a spontaneous, weekend trip to Canada. But instead, I have a disability I didn't ask for and there's no clear end in sight.
 

This is me finding the color in the middle of disappointments. Thankfulness is actually one of the most empowering, daily decisions I've made.





And now the pages I painted earlier come into play:





Each leaf will represent a moment I'm thankful for, or something that makes me really happy. It can be anything in the world that makes me smile.

When feeling sick gets me down, I'll look at the bulletin board and remember that life really isn't that bad. In fact, the wonderful things far outweigh the disappointments.


I don't want thankfulness to be something I celebrate at a table with my family once a year. I want it to be a daily celebration, no matter how small. It's my shield and my armor.