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This Is What Success Looks Like

This Is What Success Looks Like

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Jun 11, 2021 | (in)courage, Brave, Devotional, Faith, writing

You are talented. Before you shake your head, deny those words, and click the little red X on this page, let me ask you a question: Do you remember the parable of the three servants who were given different amounts of talents? In Matthew 25, Jesus tells a story about...
When Worry and Fear Weigh You Down

When Worry and Fear Weigh You Down

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | May 18, 2020 | (in)courage, Brave, Devotional, Easter, Faith, Fear, Prayer

Well friends, the timing of this post is really something. I shared the news this morning and I’ll say more about this in my newsletter (going out in a few days), but my grandfather passed away last week. A few minutes after turning in my May (in)courage post...
You Have Not Been Forgotten or Overlooked

You Have Not Been Forgotten or Overlooked

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Feb 18, 2020 | (in)courage, Brave, Broken and Raw, Faith, Love

I’ll admit, the month of February brings with it a sense of dread. I don’t mind the flowers, chocolates, or the emphasis on love. No, as a single woman, it’s the looks of pity, as questions and doubts that have played in my head are suddenly spoken aloud by loved ones...
I Dare You: Buy the Flowers

I Dare You: Buy the Flowers

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Feb 6, 2019 | (in)courage, Brave, Broken and Raw, Faith, Love

Last year, just a few days after Valentine’s Day, the grocery store clerk made fun of me in the checkout line. I emptied my cart, placed each item on the conveyor belt, and tried to keep my mouth from falling open as the gentlemen looked me in the eyes and spoke words...
Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Aug 11, 2018 | (in)courage, Brave, Broken and Raw, Community

No one stood up when the credits began to roll. Whispered wows mixed with the sound of sniffling as we reached for tissues, blinked our eyes, and stayed for just a moment longer. Like so many others, I grew up watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. Childhood...
It’s True: You Have Something to Offer

It’s True: You Have Something to Offer

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Jul 9, 2018 | (in)courage, Art, Brave, Fear

You are talented. Before you shake your head, deny those words, and click the little red X on this page, let me ask you a question. Do you remember the parable of the three servants who were given different amounts of talents? I’ve been thinking about it recently,...
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RECENT POSTS:

  • Jesus Will Meet You in Your Mourning
  • 12 Can’t-Miss Books Coming September-December of 2021
  • Scars Are Miracles Written on Skin
  • This Is What Success Looks Like
  • It’s Okay to Not Be Okay Today

MY BOOK // Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between

Even If Not: Living, Loving and Learning in the in Between

kaitlyn_bouch

📚Author of #EvenIfNotBook
✏️Writer: kaitlynbouchillon.com
☕️Lover of iced coffee
💻Virtual Assistant
I was eight years old, and I remember. I remember I was eight years old, and I remember. I remember exactly where I sat on the couch, my legs seemingly stuck to the sofa for much too long, my eyes unable to look away. I remember the images, the confusion, the shock and the jumping and the sounds. I remember how, not that long after, I would flip through a stack of notecards with verses written on them—again and again and again and again. Cards that were created because suddenly I was scared.⁣ ⁣ That morning is one of my clearest memories from childhood. 9/11 shaped us, young and old, in so very many ways.⁣ ⁣ But I also remember the days that followed. I remember the outpouring of support, the way strangers became friends and neighbors learned each other’s names and everyone came together. I remember the heroes. I remember how people were more gentle with one another, kinder. I remember how what truly mattered was crystal clear.⁣ ⁣ I remember, and I won’t forget: from what seems to be complete destruction, hope can rise again.
Here’s what I’ve never been able to get over, Here’s what I’ve never been able to get over, the word that makes me cry every single time, as if I don’t know it’s coming—everything changed at the sound of her name.⁣ ⁣ Of all the things, right? Instead of explaining how the prophecies had been fulfilled or even saying “peace, be still” as He later would for the disciples, Jesus spoke her name and instantly, she knew.⁣ ⁣ I won’t retell the whole story from John 20 here, but my gosh it’s so personal and kind. Before the sun began to rise, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb. Finding it empty, she turned to leave, filled with confusion and grief, and literally ran into the One who was seemingly missing. He met her exactly where she was, but she didn’t recognize Him until: “Mary.”⁣ ⁣ That’s all it took.⁣ ⁣ She knew His tone and His cadence. She knew exactly what her name sounded like when spoken on His lips. How many times had she heard it before in order to know it so well? How many conversations, how many memories made, that she knew who He was by the sound of His voice speaking her name?⁣ ⁣ Jesus doesn’t play games. He doesn’t trick or hide. The One who says “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened” comes close to us. We can show up with our grief, our doubt, our confusion and fears. Jesus won’t turn away; He won’t disappear.⁣ ⁣ Our eyes may be clouded with tears, our mind full of questions and our hands full of worries, but we are invited to come exactly as we are and we can be sure, He will be found. Always, Jesus will meet us exactly where we are.⁣ - - - -⁣ Today @incourage published one of the devos (inspired by John 20) that I wrote for Take Heart: 100 Devotions to Seeing God When Life is Not Okay. (I’m still not over that we wrote it in 2019. Hi God, thanks for knowing the words we would soon need.) I’ve been thinking about what I would tell Mary (next slide) and it turns out, it’s actually what I need in 2021 too. (Hi God, me again. Thanks again.)
Another heavy week behind, another set of unknown Another heavy week behind, another set of unknown days ahead… It’s all so much, too much for too long, more than we were made to hold. Tonight I quietly asked “Where are You, Jesus?” Not accusing, not demanding, just… wondering. “In all of this, where are You? I trust You’re here and You’re working but I’m really going to need help having eyes to see.”⁣ ⁣ Immediately, and out of no where, two words came to mind: Jesus wept. If I’m honest, when I read John 11 much of me wants to shout “Hurry up!” Time is ticking, God!” They prayed and believed, hoped and waited and wept, and surely it must have seemed like all they received in return was silence.⁣ ⁣ Yesterday a friend shared an exciting “can you even believe this?!” update with me that is, quite honestly, incredible. It was one of those moments you shake your head and think “Well THIS is Ephesians 3:20. This is more than you could even imagine, more than you’d ever think to prayer for.” The years of praying and hearing “not yet” weren’t actually a delay... they were a gift. Things were happening that they didn’t (yet) know about, something only God could receive the glory for was being prepared and if you asked today “would you rather have what you prayed for then or this open door now?” they’d happily wait.⁣ ⁣ And I'm reminded: what seems like a delay is not necessarily a denial.⁣ Times of waiting ≠ wasted time.⁣⁣ ⁣ “Where are You, Jesus?” seems to be answered right there in the text that makes me want to remind God time is of the essence: He isn't late and the answer isn't silence. He’s in it with us, and sometimes that sounds like weeping through a “not yet” that makes room for time to tick on closer to something that is more than could be imagined.⁣ ⁣ Resurrection was on the way, hope was on the scene, and Jesus paused to cry. What a gift, this God who both holds time and holds us close, who sits with even as He makes a way.⁣ ⁣ May we weep and wait with hope. He's right here, and He has been all along.
For married friends: "This is kind of awkward, but For married friends: "This is kind of awkward, but I have several single friends that I want to love well and I’m just not sure how to do that. I’m worried that if I ask questions related to singleness, I’ll make them feel sad or I’ll say the wrong thing, so I usually don’t ask anything. But I’m realizing that might seem like I don’t even care. And I really do care. How can I love you and other single people well?"⁣ ⁣ Before her message last week, I had never been asked that by a married friend. And let me tell you: it meant a lot to me. I felt seen, not sad. The question she thought might be awkward? I really appreciated.⁣ ⁣ I paused and said "You know how you think of your husband and kids in one hundred small ways throughout the day? Well, regular life reminds me that it’s just me. Not always in a sad or lonely way, but just—practically. This morning I wanted a hug, but no one is here. I’ve had a migraine for three days and for a moment wished there was someone to take care of me, or even just help make dinner. I heated leftovers, which is the norm because most recipes aren’t made for one. I walked by the half-built cabinet and wondered how I'd lift/drag/push it against the wall on my own. Each of these were here and then gone, not sad—just the reality of this particular day. I share because I want you to know: life will remind me that I’m single; you reaching out reminds me I'm not alone."⁣ ⁣ I’m sharing a small piece of the conversation here because many of y’all are married, and I really want you to know: your questions, your genuine care, and most of all your friendship—it means the actual world to your single friends.⁣ ⁣ At the end of the day, we all want to be seen, known, wanted and loved. If you aren't sure what to ask or say, swipe for a few suggestions (better yet, ask your friend what would be helpful!).
God, we come with hands full of worries and fears. God, we come with hands full of worries and fears. The world grieves, the earth groans, the waters roar, the tears fall, the hospital beds fill. We are broken and needy, God. Desperate. As You were with Moses in the wilderness and Joshua in the Promised Land, lead us through the coming days. Cloud by day, making a way in the wild of unknowns; fire by night, light up the sky as darkness closes in. ⁣ ⁣ You wrapped Yourself in skin because of love, choosing to dwell among us in this broken, hurting world. Jesus, You wept over the death of a friend even though You knew the story wasn’t over. You’ve known loss; You’re familiar with grief. You understand our hurting hearts, so we bring them to You, asking for strength for today and hope for tomorrow.⁣ ⁣ Spirit, thank You for the ever-present gift of Your presence. Please comfort those who are grieving, grant wisdom to all who need it, and teach us to linger longer in Your presence, shaping our worries into prayers. Help us remember not to forget that You are the God who comes and stays, the One who keeps every promise He makes.⁣ ⁣ God of new beginnings, sustain us in the waiting. We don’t know what the future will hold, but we know that You’ll be there. Tonight, that's enough. You, Lord, are enough. Amen
I did a double (triple? quadruple?) take when I sa I did a double (triple? quadruple?) take when I saw this. The paper says: “In the middle of your mess, God is writing your message.” - Kaitlyn Bouchillon⁣ ⁣ That’s me. I mean, obviously. The quote is from chapter nine of my book but I have absolutely no idea who beautifully lettered this print. Actually, I don’t even know whose doorframe the paper is taped to…⁣ ⁣ But I do know that if it’s the middle, then it can’t possibly be the end.⁣ ⁣ So, just in case you need to hear it (or see it) this morning, I’m passing the picture and the words along.⁣ ⁣ You are seen and you are loved.⁣ You have not been forgotten.⁣ Your story isn’t over.⁣ - - -⁣ “Maybe, just maybe, the story we’re so afraid of sharing is the very story God is going to use to show us once and for all that He has always been there, has always loved us deep and true, has always had a purpose for the pain and we have no reason to reach for the pen in His hands.⁣⁣⁣⁣ Wherever you find yourself reading these words, this is what you’ve got to know: It isn’t always pretty and it’s bound to get messy again down the road but in the middle of your mess God is writing your message.” - Even If Not: Living, Loving, and Learning in the in Between⁣ ⁣ (@HolleyGerth, you officially win the gold medal for the best surprise photo. Thank you. 💛😭 #EvenIfNotBook)
I know this is a bit unusual, but… Will you show I know this is a bit unusual, but… Will you show me what you see from where you stand today? Because the news, it’s overwhelming. Haiti. Afghanistan. Fires. Hurricanes. Delta. Shootings. There’s so much more, heartbreaking headlines in our own personal lives, division seemingly everywhere you look.⁣ ⁣ It’s a very small thing in light of All The Things, a simple photo of clouds on a summer day. But we aren’t pixels or usernames or comment threads—we’re people, all living under the same sky, and sometimes it’s a little too easy to forget that when there’s a screen between us and one hundred things trying to divide.⁣ ⁣ So, would you show me what you see from where you stand today? 🤍 Step outside, take a picture of the sky, and tag me in your post/Instagram Story. I’ll share a bunch, a reminder that the view from where we stand may look different, but we’re all here, together, under the clouds.⁣ ⁣ “The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Giveaway 📚 Can we talk about beginnings and in Giveaway 📚 Can we talk about beginnings and in betweens for a hot second? Because this picture looks like an “end.” In some ways it is… the book is printed, bound, and shipped around the world (that’s flat-out Ephesians 3:20 to me) literally every month.⁣ ⁣ But you should know: I’m still living it. As recently as last night, I talked with friends about trusting God in an in between that feels like it’s lasting forever, like the page won’t turn.⁣ ⁣ I always post a picture of #EvenIfNotBook on August 19th. It’s the day I (finally) stopped telling God He picked the wrong girl for this message, stopped listing a dozen reasons why it wasn’t the right time to write, and began a Word doc that turned out to be the Introduction.⁣ ⁣ This year, I watched the updates coming in from around the world and the only words I could find were “Lord, have mercy.” It didn’t feel right to post on Thursday, but this weekend I was reminded how much it matters that we continue to hope even as we wait. And that’s so much of what Even If Not is about—learning to trust in the middle of the story, choosing hope for tomorrow when today feels like a question mark, and discovering God is good even when life isn’t.⁣ ⁣ Years have passed and I’m still living these words. But I can tell you this: Looking back, there are fingerprints of His faithfulness on every page. (Even the ones I wanted to rip out.) I don’t know what you’re waiting or hoping for today, but I do know this: you aren’t alone, and the Author is good.⁣ ⁣ 📚👉🏻 I’d love to celebrate the beginning of a book about the middle by sending a copy to you and a friend! Tag someone below—maybe a friend who walked with you through a difficult time or someone who bravely keeps choosing hope? I’ll randomly select a comment and mail a copy for each of you.⁣ ⁣ (Giveaway closes at 4pm CST on 8/24. Winner will be tagged here. Sponsored by me, myself and I.)
May we dig up seeds of bitterness and division, co May we dig up seeds of bitterness and division, committed to the work of uprooting anger and hate. May we lean in and listen, then stick around and listen longer. May our actions match our words, may our prayers be spoken before the throne and not just posted in pixels, and may our hands be blistered from a stubborn refusal to let go of hope.⁣ ⁣ May we walk well.⁣ ⁣ “Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;⁣ where there is hatred, let me sow love;⁣ where there is injury, pardon;⁣ where there is despair, hope;⁣ where there is darkness, light;⁣ and where there is sadness, joy.”⁣ - St. Francis of Assisi⁣ ⁣ (P.s. In case you can’t read my handwriting 😉, the page says: It's no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching. - St. Francis)
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