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A book for the broken hopefuls… 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

This. Just this. ♥️

This. Just this. ♥️

Mom asked if I wanted to say anything at the funer

Mom asked if I wanted to say anything at the funeral and I immediately said "no thank you." I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it through a single sentence.⁣
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Friday morning, before zipping up my black dress, I re-read my @incourage post. I had turned it in 3 weeks earlier, just before mom got the “you need to come” call.⁣
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“My post goes live tomorrow, mom, and you may want tissues nearby. It’s not exact because I didn't write it for this situation, but it's kind of crazy how it fits."⁣
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"Will you read it at the funeral?" Deep breath. "Okay."⁣
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For the record, I was right: I did not make it through in one piece. (Understatement of the year.)⁣
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Everything was okay(ish) until this part: Jesus, You wept over the death of a friend, even though You knew the story wasn’t over. And so Lord, You understand our hurting hearts. We bring them to You, asking for strength for today and hope for tomorrow.⁣
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Before the words were published online, they were read in a cemetery. With the wind blowing and tears falling and God watching, I held the words in my shaking hands and I gave them back to the One who always knew.⁣
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It was very far from perfect, poised, or put together. But it was true. It was love. It was legacy.⁣
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And it was a gift from the One who sees us and weeps with us, even as He keeps His promise to make all things new. He’s enough. And my gosh, He is so kind.⁣
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May Mercy surprise you today, and may you see in some small way how He sees you in all ways. He already knows, and so we're never walking alone.

The book begins with loss. (Oh hello, 2020. 👋🏻) My Tuesday Bible study is walking through Joshua, and chapter one begins right there: loss, confusion, worry and fear.⁣
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After wandering in the wilderness for decades, the Israelites are about to enter the Promised Land. They’re going to see the promise made become the promise kept.⁣
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And then Moses, Joshua’s mentor and the Israelite’s leader, dies. Joshua is not only grieving, he’s afraid. I assumed Joshua’s fear was attached to the challenge ahead. How will he lead an entire nation? How long will the journey take? What will the land be like after all this time?⁣
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(2020 👉🏻 How will our leaders guide us in the coming days? How long will we shelter-in-place and worry for our loved ones? What will the “new normal” look like?)⁣
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But a closer look led me here: Joshua’s fear isn’t tied to the unknown of the future — He’s afraid of a future without God. He doesn’t want the promise without the presence of the Promise Maker.⁣
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Three times in chapter one, God reassures Joshua like a mother comforting a child (5-7, 9, 18).⁣
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“I will be with you. I will not fail you or abandon you. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged.” ⁣
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Joshua would rather have the wilderness with God’s presence than the blessing without. In other words, what he wants most isn’t a blessing — it’s God’s with-ness. (Talk about a mic drop.)⁣
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Wherever you are as you read this post, wilderness or Promised Land or somewhere in between, I believe God's promise is for us too, right here in 2020. He’s here, right now, even in loss or confusion. He’s with us as we wait and wonder and wander. And He’s the blessing. He’s I AM and El Roi and Emmanuel. He is not a God who abandons. He does not fail His children.⁣
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(Also, he paints the sky. 😍 Am I living in a Bob Ross painting? Unsure.)

The loss is great. Joy is too. Grief and gratitude

The loss is great. Joy is too. Grief and gratitude, hand in hand.⁣
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I’m convinced he never met a stranger and could make absolutely anyone laugh. He was quick to make a joke and he was quick to pray. He lived well. Loved well. Pastored well. Finished well. What a legacy.⁣
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Since high school, every goodbye was shadowed with the strong possibility of “this might be the last.” But in January, I knew. I knew I wouldn’t see him again on this side of heaven, and I’ll hold onto the way he looked and the last words he said about me until I see his face again.⁣
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I don’t know if there are strawberries in heaven but if so, I’m pretty sure one day not long from now I’ll meet him there and see the familiar twinkle in his eye as he hands one to me, remembering the inside joke that managed to span nearly three decades. Mom asked me to make a strawberry cake for lunch after the funeral, and though she didn’t have that joke in mind, it felt more than fitting. I hate this virus, but God was so kind to show us His goodness in several “random” I-see-you moments. Even in something as small as strawberry cake.⁣
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He’s free and whole and because of Jesus, we rejoice and give thanks. We miss you so much, Pap-Pop, but we’ll see you so soon.

Life and death, cemeteries and gardens, bitter and

Life and death, cemeteries and gardens, bitter and sweet, laughter and mourning, darkness and light, dead ends and new beginnings and messy middles full of ordinary days — in all of it, there He is.⁣
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Waymaker. Miracle worker. Promise keeper. Light in the darkness. Emmanuel, the God who comes. The One that stays. Faithful in all ways, always.⁣
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✍🏻 lettering: @margot.and.co

She’s been on my mind literally every day since

She’s been on my mind literally every day since Week One of shelter-in-place.⁣
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It only took a few days before I felt cooped up and lonely. I can tell you exactly how many days it’s been since I gave or received a hug.⁣
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But that number is in the dozens. For her, it was a dozen — years. And that makes me want to weep.⁣
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You probably know her story. She had a name, but we call her “the woman with the issue of blood.” Luke 8 says she spent all her money searching for an answer, desperate for healing. Chronic pain, constant loss.⁣
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Because she was seen as unclean, she couldn’t enter the place of worship. She was cut off from community, and anyone who touched her immediately became unclean. It’s safe to say that people steered clear, that no one dropped by or stood close, that she was alone and untouched. For 12 years.⁣
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And yet — she didn’t lose faith. She held onto hope. And Hope stopped for her. Hope healed her, saw her, restored her, named her: Daughter.⁣
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Ecclesiastes 3 says there’s “a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.” That’s always been hard for me to imagine, but here we are. It won’t be this way forever (🙌🏻), but for now, I think of her — the woman known for a problem, but named by the Healer. Hope always gets the last word.⁣

I’ve pulled off the road to watch the sun set an

I’ve pulled off the road to watch the sun set and excitedly said “you HAVE to see this!” to my roommate while running outside and clapping my hands because LOOK, the moon! (True story.) I love the sky, is what I’m saying.⁣
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But over the past few years, my camera roll started to tell another story. For every picture of the sky, there’s one of the ground. I’ve started to get low and then lower, to bend over and lean in and notice what’s around my feet.⁣
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That sounds ridiculous when written out, looking at it there on the screen in pixels, but I’m writing it anyway because this is the thing: the sky didn’t disappear when I looked low, I just gained a new lens with which to look through.⁣
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Beauty and brokenness, life and death. Flowers. Weeds. Pebbles. Cracks. He paints the sky each day, and that sky waters the ground we stand on.⁣
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I still tilt my head up with wonder, still take two dozen pictures of puffy clouds on an ordinary Tuesday, but there’s something about knowing He’s not just “up there” but also “down here.” Leaning in, bending low, coming close.⁣
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Eyes up, yes. And also? Feet planted. He’s right here, and I want to be too.⁣
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#beautifulordinarynow #kaitlynsees2020 #miracleseverywhere #itssimplytuesday

My fingers keep scrolling through my camera roll t

My fingers keep scrolling through my camera roll to this image of beauty that cannot be contained, spilling over walls and fences, bursting out of the Garden of Gethsemane.⁣
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A place of grief, of blood and tears and friends who fell asleep, now overflowing with life and light and hope.⁣
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It was dark. It was confusing. It was overwhelming.⁣
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But not forever. He knew this day would come. All along, He knew. “For the joy set before Him.”⁣
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Way maker. Miracle worker. Promise keeper. Light in the darkness.⁣
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He sees the end from the beginning and He doesn’t make mistakes. What looks like the end, what feels like just too much, might be the very moment the page turns.⁣
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Overwhelming to overflowing.⁣
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(Maybe I’m the only one who needs to hear and see this right now, but if not... bookmark it, tag a friend, pass it along. Life and light and hope are on the way. But also: He’s all three, and He’s here with us today.)

Mid-week truth in the middle of the mundane: Our o

Mid-week truth in the middle of the mundane: Our ordinary days hold more meaning and beauty than we even dare to believe.⁣⁣
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These are the days. God, give us eyes to see.⁣
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(P.s. The “what if” question I wrote out is inspired by a sentence from the Introduction of #TheMiddleMatters, by my friend @lisajobaker. 💛)⁣
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#beautifulordinarynow #kaitlynsees2020 #gloriousinthemundane #miracleseverywhere

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