KaitlynBouchillon.com
  • about
  • blog
  • book
  • contact & all the things
    • contact
    • disclosure
    • #fmfpartysnailmail
    • my health story
    • privacy policy
    • subscribe (and receive exclusive prints!)
    • terms and conditions
  • favorites
    • favorites :: blogs
    • favorites :: books
    • favorites :: ministries
  • freebies
  • why every story matters
  • VA services
Select Page
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,...
A Letter to the Girl Who Feels Forgotten

A Letter to the Girl Who Feels Forgotten

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Feb 14, 2018 | Brave, Broken and Raw, Love

Of all the things I truly dislike writing about, singleness tops the list. But this isn’t about being single, not really. This is about how even when we feel forgotten, we’re anything but. This is about how we’ve been given every good thing we could...
« Older Entries

RECENT POSTS:

  • 12 Can’t-Miss Books Coming January-April of 2021
  • Chaos Doesn’t Get the Final Say
  • My Favorite Books of 2020
  • Advent Books and Bible Studies
  • Where Were You, God?

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

Your story isn’t over. 🌿♥️ #EvenIfNotBook Your story isn’t over. 🌿♥️ #EvenIfNotBook
Sometimes holding onto hope just flat out hurts. S Sometimes holding onto hope just flat out hurts. Sometimes (scratch that, all times) we have only the foggiest glimpse of what God’s doing all around us. Sometimes we can hardly see Him, hear Him, feel Him.⁣
⁣
It’s been almost a year of *waves hands around* all this, and really I’d just like a date, a countdown, or a timeline. The question isn’t where are we (somewhere in the middle)… it’s which shore are we closest to (aka how much longer).⁣
⁣
And God just keeps kindly reminding me of other times I’ve been SO VERY SURE if I just knew the “when” I would patiently, even happily (!) wait as long as it took. Six months and then everything changes? Fantastic. It’ll be four years of praying every single day and then, seemingly overnight, the page will turn? Okay.⁣
⁣
Sometimes I’d just like to request a guarantee on my hope. I’d like a clear as day answer that it won’t be wasted.⁣
⁣
I’ve never received a guarantee, but I’ve always received Him. And I think that actually? That’s the guarantee.⁣
⁣⁣
We aren’t alone or forgotten. We are not adrift in a sea of chaos. The One who walks on water is not surprised or afraid.⁣ He sees the other side… and He will see us through.⁣ Our hope is not in vain.⁣
⁣⁣
Waves might keep on coming.⁣⁣
Storms may keep on raging.⁣⁣
But the sun will keep on rising.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
We may not know when.⁣⁣
We may not see how.⁣⁣
But we can trust Who.⁣
⁣
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” - Lamentations 3:24
In a non-creepy, really-good-news kind of way, I j In a non-creepy, really-good-news kind of way, I just need to tell you: Someone is watching you.⁣
⁣
Last week, I received a notification that I thought was a mistake. I mean, it HAD to be. Except… it wasn’t.⁣
⁣
She didn’t tag me in the Instagram caption. She didn’t link to my page on Facebook. But there it was, one single notification saying I was quoted on @PatsyClairmont’s social media accounts. So I clicked over and promptly turned into this emoji for a solid five minutes: 😳😳😳⁣
⁣
I have no earthly idea how Ms. Patsy (or her assistant 😉) knows about me. I’m still shaking my head and I haven’t put the “how did this happen?” pieces together, but I’m certain at least one person needs to hear this today: someone is watching you. Someone is listening and paying attention, reading your words and taking them in. Someone is inspired by you, encouraged by you, learning from you — and very possibly, not even following you on social media.⁣
⁣
You may never even know. You may not be tagged and they may not reach out, but I promise — the words you speak, the work you do, the way you love, the art you make — it matters. (This stretches outside of social media and straight into our very real lives, of course.)⁣
⁣
Please keep showing up. Someone is watching.⁣
⁣
P.s. Can we have, like, a flash mob of encouragement/kindness by reaching out to someone we’ve been watching? What if we took 30 seconds to text, comment, DM, call, or tag someone to say how they’ve mattered to us? What if we simply shared their words to IG Stories? I’ll post a few in the comments 👇🏻 and in Stories today. You in?
In between prayers of “Lord, have mercy” I’m In between prayers of “Lord, have mercy” I’m repeating Lucretia’s words. I designed the image for an email to subscribers back in October. I re-read it tonight and try as I might, can’t shake that it needs to be here too. So, deep breath, here it is. ⁣
⁣
“If you've followed along via email or social media for even one week, you know this isn't my norm. But it's something I'm talking about literally every single day with my real-life people. It makes my heart race (hi, I'm an Enneagram 2 and even the possibility of tension in a relationship or hurting/upsetting someone I love is absolutely terrible) but it matters a lot so I'm going to say (a lot of) words.⁣
⁣
I've re-written this no less than 10 times. I've prayed about it, weighed each word, and shared a draft with a friend. I don't take it lightly that you invite me into your inbox. At a glance, it'll look like I'm talking about politics. But what I'd actually like to talk about is kindness and listening.⁣
⁣
Whether you're looking for it or not, talk of politics is everywhere right now. And I'm pretty sure you don't open my emails for more words about All The Political Things. (If you do, you'll be VERY disappointed in future weeks.) I know many have already voted (yay!) and my intention is NOT to tell you what to do or change your opinion. Instead, I want to share a few podcast episodes that have made me think, offered encouragement, challenged me in good but hard ways, and reminded me of Truth.⁣
⁣
0% of my real-life-people would say I'm "a very political person." But I am absolutely a people person. Politicians make policies that impact people, and so here we are. I'm not vocal about every single thing online, but you can be sure I'm paying attention, listening, and having (a lot) of in-person conversations.⁣
⁣
In almost every conversation I've had with friends, "bubbles" "neighbors" or "somewhere in the middle" all come up. Here's what I mean:⁣
⁣
*swipe on the images above to keep reading*
Loss on one side, redemption on the other, a mess Loss on one side, redemption on the other, a mess in the middle. Sounds about right for 2020: the year I went pretty much no where and saw Him everywhere. (Word of the year: #kaitlynsees2020)⁣
⁣
A Christmas tree during a quarantined Easter and a black dress at a gravesite. A social distanced waiting room that didn’t lead to medical answers and a black swimsuit on a deck to celebrate 10 years brain-tumor-free.⁣
⁣
These aren’t the most-liked pictures from 2020. (Swipe for the actual “top nine collage.”) Truth is, they aren’t all my favorites either. It’s more fun to pick an accomplishment or happy news than look at a tangled mess. ⁣
⁣
But they summarize 2020, telling the story of a both/and year. Beautiful and ordinary, heartbreaking and healing.⁣ There’s no tidy bow to wrap up this great unraveling of a year, but there’s a God who isn’t surprised, a God who sees the other side, a God who will see us through.⁣⁣
⁣
Here’s to 2021. May we hold onto hope instead of holding our breath, choose “even if” instead of “what if,” look for the light when the night is long, and never stop watching for redemption. May we learn to dance upon disappointment and recognize resurrection. May we remember that the day the seed is planted is not the day the flower blooms. May we trust, even when we can’t yet see, that what looks like a mess is something beautiful in the making.
It was a dumpster fire of a year, but the thing ab It was a dumpster fire of a year, but the thing about fire is that it refines. When it’s all said and done, what’s left? What was true all along?⁣
⁣
On the first day of 2020, I posted this image and these words:⁣
⁣
“May we trust in the dark what we know to be true in the Light. He is the way-maker and the promise-keeper and so although we may not know what’s coming our way and 2020 may hold more questions than answers, we can trust that He’ll be with us through every change.⁣⁣ From beginning to end, He is faithful and true on every page.⁣⁣”⁣
⁣
It held true. God held true.⁣
⁣
Nothing magically changes today, but if hindsight is 20/20, we have good reason to believe we can trust Him with whatever story 2021 will tell. And we have a reason to hope.⁣
⁣
No matter our today or our tomorrows, no matter the dumpster fires, the unknowns, or the ups and downs we’ll face globally and personally this year… we will not be abandoned.⁣
⁣
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” - Lamentations 3:21-23
Here’s to the goals you didn’t meet in 2020. H Here’s to the goals you didn’t meet in 2020. Here’s to the projects you didn’t finish. Here’s to the accomplishments that weren’t realized and the successes you didn’t see.⁣
⁣
And here’s to the you that⁣
listened.⁣
cried.⁣
learned.⁣
marched.⁣
apologized.⁣
told the truth.⁣
asked for help.⁣
learned to walk in the dark.⁣
grieved.⁣
laughed.⁣
took naps.⁣
looked for the good.⁣
gave grace.⁣
voted.⁣
showed compassion.⁣
made dinner.⁣
checked on your people.⁣
⁣
Here’s to the you that is here, the you that kept showing up, the you that didn’t give up.⁣
⁣
There are unfinished things we’re carrying into 2021, and if you’re ready to set new goals then go for it. There is, after all, a reason to hope. But let’s leave the shame and the shoulds in 2020. ⁣
⁣
Maybe you didn’t make a lot of things, but you did the brave and often hard work of making it.⁣
⁣
You made it. You’re here. I’m so proud of you.⁣
⁣
(I wrote this for a project last week, but maybe you need it too? I know I sure do.)
This is the Door of Humility in Bethlehem. Inside This is the Door of Humility in Bethlehem. Inside and several floors down, there's a star on the ground and red curtains hanging nearby while candles flicker in the darkness. I stood there in 2016 and sang Away in a Manger. In 2018, I sang Silent Night. I teared up both times, because of course.⁣
⁣
Everything points to this being the spot where heaven touched earth, where Jesus entered our world as a baby, but I'm not worried about knowing exactly where the stone manger* stood. I'm just grateful He came.⁣
⁣
It's not really about the place… It's that He knew what He was in for and entered the mess anyway. It's that the Light pierced the darkness and night was no longer. It's that the only response that makes sense, the only thing to do, is to bow low, to kneel down, and to say thank You. Thank You for coming. Thank You for staying.⁣
⁣
The Door of Humility was reduced from a Crusader doorway with a pointed arch. Created in Ottoman times to prevent carts and horses from coming into the church built atop the marked spot, it forces every visitor to bow no matter their importance. One day every knee will bow and tongue confess, but until then we bend low and continue to come near. The veil has been torn; the Way has been made. Emmanuel, God come to us... God with us, forever.⁣
⁣
*Our western retelling of the nativity assumes a lot the text doesn’t say. Trees were (and are) scarce in that region. The manger would have been hewn from stone, which makes me weepy every Christmas. Here’s why: Our english word for "carpenter" is a poor translation of “builder” or “stonemason.” Christ, the “carpenter” and Cornerstone (Luke 20:17-18; Psalm 118:22), may have worked with wood, but He absolutely worked with stone every day.⁣ He was wrapped and placed in a hollowed stone at birth—and again at death. Love came down to us, for us, and so we bow low and give thanks. No matter how dark the night, there is hope.
Here it is: the darkest day of the year. But here’s the hope: the darkest day is also the shortest day.⁣
⁣
I marked it on my calendar a full year ago and though it may be silly, I’ve had a countdown going, inching closer to the winter solstice.⁣
⁣
Darkness has rolled through 2020 like the fog arriving each morning, a thick and heavy blanket wrapping around the world.⁣
⁣
In just a few days we’ll celebrate the Light of the world that pierced the night. It’s both at the same time: sorrow and joy, grief and gratitude, mourning and dancing. Even at the very worst, at the breaking point, in the silence, in the sadness, Light still woke the day and painted the sky. Always, Light was pushing back the dark.⁣
⁣
But tonight? Tonight the earth joins in.⁣
⁣
From here on out, the night gets shorter.⁣
From here on out, it only gets brighter.
load more follow on insta

MY FAVORITE WRITING COMMUNITY

Copyright 2020 | Designed by Elegant Themes