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What if We Chose to Be for One Another?

What if We Chose to Be for One Another?

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Feb 21, 2022 | (in)courage, Community, Family, friendship

Shelves and screws and seemingly random pieces of what would eventually become a wooden cabinet covered the living room floor. It was somewhere around step thirty-one that I knew without a doubt: This was a two-person job. Four hands were needed to ensure the boards...
It’s Okay to Not Be Okay Today

It’s Okay to Not Be Okay Today

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | May 12, 2021 | (in)courage, Devotional, Faith, Family

I wrote this article three weeks ago, Nana went Home two weeks ago, and Pap-Pop passed away exactly one year ago… to the day. As someone who loves and remembers dates/details, when I was assigned the May 12th article at incourage.me, I was confident it wasn’t a...
What If It’s as ‘Simple’ as Everyday Faithfulness?

What If It’s as ‘Simple’ as Everyday Faithfulness?

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Jun 23, 2020 | Devotional, Faith, Faithful, Family

My grandfather passed away last month. A few hours after receiving the news, the memory of a long-forgotten college paper crossed my mind. It was late. Both night and tears had fallen, but instead of going to bed I sat at my desk searching through documents. There....
When You Need a Miracle in the Messy Middle

When You Need a Miracle in the Messy Middle

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Apr 8, 2020 | Easter, Even If Not, Faith, Faithful, Family

A few years ago, my family spent week after week sitting in waiting rooms and hoping for answers. Just a few hours before the light of Easter morning began to stretch across the sky, my phone lit up with one of the worst text messages of my life. Exactly two years...
Choosing Thanks-Living

Choosing Thanks-Living

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Nov 24, 2014 | Beauty, Faith, Family, Story, Thanksgiving

In order to truly live, one must do one’s living amongst the breathing. I’m sure it’s been said more beautifully before, but those fourteen words sum up my November. After writing 31 days in a row on how and why every story matters, the well had run...
Women: We Can’t Shrink Back

Women: We Can’t Shrink Back

by Kaitlyn Bouchillon | Jul 15, 2014 | Beauty, Broken and Raw, Family, Fear

This is a follow up to the recent post For The Girls With Thighs That Touch. We will not – can not – shrink back or shrink down just to please another. Sun streams in mid-morning and I stumble down the stairs after completing my morning work routine. There...
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RECENT POSTS:

  • “I’ll Hold It With You”
  • 15 New Books I’m Looking Forward to This Spring
  • The Night Is Deep but Light Runs Deeper
  • You Are Not a Trash Can
  • 13 New Books I’m Looking Forward to This Fall

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

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

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Do you know about the word “achor”? I’m conf Do you know about the word “achor”? I’m confident you’ve experienced it…⁣ ⁣ Every day I look at a print of Hosea 2:15 that sits on my dresser. I read the words and pray “May it be. I believe, LORD help my unbelief.”⁣ ⁣ Twelve years in and I’ve massively hit a wall with chronic illness. Last night, a dear friend said kind things about having a strong faith. I could only shake my head, shocked, and reply that any strength she sees certainly isn’t my own. True, I have no doubt that God’s with me here, that He’s beside for every step and every breath, every sleepless night and exhausting day. Also: I struggle to keep on getting my hopes up when they keep on crashing, to see that I’m passing through, to not set up camp in the valley.⁣ ⁣ The Valley of Achor is the valley of trouble or affliction. It’s a low place of weeping, of suffering and severity, of death and difficulty.⁣ ⁣ I imagine you’ve spent time here, too.⁣ ⁣ If so, know that I’m writing this specifically for you. I have no pretty bow, no quick fix. But I—we—have the promise of Hosea 2:15. And I just want to make sure you know about it, in case you’re starting to reach for tent pegs.⁣ ⁣ “There I [God] will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. And she shall sing there.”⁣ ⁣ I don’t know how it works, but I do believe He’s a God who can turn things around, who swallowed death and then spoke resurrection.⁣ ⁣ Isaiah 65:10 says the Valley of Achor will become a resting place for sheep and for God’s people. The Shepherd will lead us (or perhaps carry us) through the valley of the shadow of death until it becomes a flourishing field, a place of restoration in which to rest (Psalm 23).⁣ ⁣ Make no mistake, it’s still a valley. There’s still trouble stretching on, still suffering and loss, still pillows soaked with tears. But Hosea promises: here, in this very spot, we will sing. Here, there will be mercy like manna in a muddy place. Here, heartache will turn to hope.⁣ ⁣ The valley is never the end, for the valley itself is a door.⁣ ⁣ We’re passing through. #evenifnotbook
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 worn and so weary, God. Disappointed. Desperate. Depleted. As You were with Moses in the wilderness and Joshua in the Promised Land, lead us through the coming days. Cloud by day, make a way in the wild of unknowns; fire by night, light up the sky when darkness draws near.⁣ ⁣ Jesus, You wrapped Yourself in skin because of love, choosing to dwell among us in this hurting world. You wept over the death of a friend even though You knew the story wasn’t over. You’ve known loss and are so familiar with grief that You answer to Man of Sorrows. You understand our hurting hearts, so we bring them to You, asking for strength for today and hope for tomorrow. Because You’re both of those, too—the mighty one who turns valleys into doorways of hope. ⁣ ⁣ Spirit, thank You for the ever-present gift of Your presence. Please comfort those who are grieving, heal those who are hurting, 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 absolutely every single promise He makes. Nothing is forgotten. Not one is missed.⁣ ⁣ 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
Grief and gratitude often go together. Hope and he Grief and gratitude often go together. Hope and heartache tend to hold hands. I was about to walk into a birthday party when my phone buzzed. After months of waiting for appointments and tests, the results had finally arrived and the diagnosis was clear: cancer.⁣ ⁣ Again. Actually, again again. Cancer keeps weaving its way back into our family story, climbing into another chapter, leaving its fingerprints year after year.⁣ ⁣ Just half an hour earlier, I put on a bright fuchsia dress and twirled, ready to celebrate. Sometimes, things drag on for months and then change in the time it takes to read a text. Sometimes, it’s too much. Sometimes, our hands are full from the both/and of it all, the joy and the sorrow all at the same time, there in an extended season of A Lot.⁣ ⁣ I snapped this quick picture for myself that night, an ebenezer stone on my camera roll, a visual reminder of bright hope and glassy eyes and a God who hears our cries. I’m sharing it with you today because maybe you need to hear it, too:⁣ ⁣ You don’t need to “have it all together.”⁣ ⁣ There is One who is holding all things together, holding us together, and sometimes?⁣ ⁣ Sometimes He greets us at the door. 😭 #evenifnotbook
I keep praying for power that rescues and heals… I keep praying for power that rescues and heals… and He gives grace that sustains. What I want is a miracle… and instead I receive just enough strength to carry through the day.⁣ ⁣ It feels like manna. Exactly enough for today and no more. Nothing extra, nothing in the reserves, no stockpile set aside for a rainy day, a long night, a winter that endures.⁣ ⁣ But always, manna.⁣ ⁣ Last week I wrote about one of my very favorite stories in Scripture. That post spread further than I imagined. There are way more of us waiting and hoping, weeping and believing, praying and reaching, than I realized. But if I’m honest, today I stood in church and my prayer was simply this: You will have to reach for me.⁣ ⁣ That’s it.⁣ ⁣ No pun intended from the story I dearly love, but if you’re hanging on by a thread… If you’re reaching and straining and stretching your fingers further, grasping for the hem of His garment… I just want to share this one verse with you, one truth to cling to, one promise holding onto you:⁣ ⁣ 💛 A bruised reed he will not break, and a flickering candle he will not put out… till he has brought justice through to victory. In his name the nations will put their hope.⁣ ⁣ Until victory. Until night becomes day and winter gives way to resurrection. Until the seeds that were planted in hope begin to bloom and all is made new. Until then, always manna. Reaching for you again and again and again. In the wilderness, in the winter, in the wait. And miraculously it turns out to be no less of a miracle, the grace that sustains when winter endures.⁣ ⁣ Dear bruised and weary one,⁣ you will not be crushed.⁣ Dear faint and flickering one,⁣ you will not be put to shame.⁣ Dear deeply discouraged one,⁣ spring is on the way.⁣ ⁣ There’s a hand reaching out when you cannot. When you’re too weak to hold onto hope, take heart dear one… Hope is already and always holding you. You will be carried through. 💛⁣ ⁣ (Isaiah 42 // Matthew 12 // Luke 8)
I don’t know if tomorrow is the day a decades-ol I don’t know if tomorrow is the day a decades-old daily prayer is answered or if the miracle is that He sustains me through to tomorrow. But I know He’s here, today. Emmanuel always, with us in the in-between. So I’ll be over here repeating it through the long wait—Lord I believe; help my unbelief. I’m going to trust that hope might be risky but it’s also worth it. I’m going to hold tightly to the truth: You and I, we haven’t been overlooked or forgotten.⁣ ⁣ The Author is kind. The story is good. Your hope, our hope, won’t be wasted.⁣ ⁣ Maybe tomorrow things will change. But He will remain the same. And first? Well… I can’t help but wonder… maybe we’ll hear a whisper in the night. “Thank you for your faith.”⁣ ⁣ P.s. The word “touched” in Luke 8:45, when Jesus says “Who touched me?”… In greek, it’s haptomai, from the root word hapto, meaning to fasten one’s self to or to cling. So, yes. Here’s to clinging to hope, no matter how long the night. #evenifnotbook
Allow me to introduce you to my magical forest. 😍 Yes, it’s January 11th. No, the Christmas decorations have not been put away. (Thank you, Lord, for a gracious roommate who kindly gives me an extra two weeks of delight.) Yes, it’s a quirky and random conglomeration of treasures. No, I don’t have a quote, a verse, or something even remotely shareable here to make a silly algorithm happy.⁣ ⁣ ✨ Just a magical forest that makes me happy.⁣ ⁣ ✨ A beautifully ordinary thing that brings a smile every morning when I enter the room.⁣ ⁣ ✨ An assortment of little joys that I wanted to share with you as if we’re back in the social media world of 2013, a snapshot of the mundane minus the “here’s what I’m eating for dinner” status update.⁣ ⁣ It’s not like all the difficult things are solved by a collection of fake trees. I mean of course not. The days are just as full, circumstances just as heavy, decisions and new changes just as overwhelming. But also: joy. Also: a smile to greet whatever the day may hold. Also: the gift of delight hidden in the regular stuff of life.⁣ ⁣ Dear algorithm, I’d rather have the beautiful ordinary than an endless chase of a moving target. This right here—this is the good stuff. The regular & the mundane. The pixelated sunset that doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing & the candle lit against the dark, saying things are A Lot and also God is still kind and also also would you mind praying. The ‘here’s what I’m learning’ mixed with ‘here’s a magical forest of tiny trees.’ The discovery of goodness in the difficult & beauty smack in the middle of the ordinary. That’s what I pick. Sincerely, me⁣ ⁣ 💛 What’s one beautiful and ordinary thing you see or hear or smell or taste right now? What’s bringing you joy this week? I’d really, really love to hear. 💬 #beautifulordinarynow
Three Friday night things: 1) So you know how my w Three Friday night things: 1) So you know how my word for 2022 was joy? Well, somewhere around Oct/Nov I saw a particular word and knew, yep, this is it. This is the next step, the challenge AND the invitation, the thing I’m determined to do no matter what 2023 brings: rejoice.⁣ ⁣ None of my friends would say I was a light and breezy bundle of joy all year long, but they’ll tell you I dug my nails in and refused to stop looking for it, declared I was all out of it and said I’ll get my hopes up anyway, believe for it anyway. Honestly? I think the waves are gonna keep on coming. Honestly? I’m so weary. I’ve wrestled through the night, and I don’t mean that metaphorically, but I’m going to choose to rejoice even if it’s a fight. I’ll keep looking, confident that God’s goodness will be on these pages of the Story too. Joy, re-joy, rejoice.⁣ ⁣ I’ve never had a “verse of the year” but I posted this one (Romans 15:13) last January, thought of it every single week, even put it on my Christmas card to close the year. In case you need it too, I wanted to share my lock screen with you. It’s in Stories tonight and saved to my Highlights here in IG.⁣ ⁣ 2) I’ve had requests to bring back the custom #WordOfTheYear lock screen offering—so, what’s YOUR word for 2023? Comment and let me know! I’ll design 30-35 lock screens using your words and will post them to Stories on Monday.⁣ If you see your word already listed by someone else, tap the heart beside the comment. ♥️ This will help me see if there are specific words to begin with when designing, hopefully serving as many people as possible. (There’s no cost whatsoever & you don’t need to follow my account or anything like that. This is just a gift, just for fun! But if you think your friends might want a lock screen too, feel free to share this in Stories!)⁣ ⁣ 3) I’m All The Way Here for traditions, so yes of course I have a new @mudlove mug and it is 😍. Their mission is fantastic and I’m proud to support them. (P.S. Use code KAITLYN20 for 20% off anything at mudlove.com through 1/31.)
Honestly, joy feels kind of impossible right now.⁣ ⁣ As soon as that sentence left my mouth at bible study in October 2021, I knew. I was spent and it seemed to ask for more than I had to give… but it refused to let me go. I never told you this, but my word for 2022 was joy. ⁣ ⁣ Scripture says joy comes in the morning—and I believe it. It really is true. Also? Sometimes we find ourselves in quite a long night.⁣ ⁣ Joy in 2022 didn’t look like endless fun—it felt like a fight. Months of weekly medical appointments that I prayed would make things better, help me get more than a couple hours of sleep a night, just made it worse. Wise steps toward health meant losing a relationship. The black dress I hoped wouldn’t be worn three years in a row was taken off the hanger again. So when @simijohn looked at me, within days of cancer weaving itself back into my family's story, and said "When I see you, I see a fighter. You fight for joy." I burst into tears. I played those words on a loop, holding them close all year, but today I feel prompted to give them to you. 2022 is in the rearview but I have a feeling someone needs to hear it now, when the calendar pages have turned but you find yourself going another round...⁣ ⁣ “The joy of the Lord is your strength” was spoken to people who had been in exile for 70 years. It’s not a happy-clappy phrase, it’s a reminder that God’s enough-ness is our strength in every circumstance. We don’t have to conjure up joy in the middle of a storm, don’t have to minimize while smiling wide. No, we get to show up weary and receive the promise spoken to a weeping people finally brought home: our strength comes from Him and He is always enough. He is the joy and it's not a cliché; it's an actual anchor in the waves.⁣ ⁣ Joy wouldn't let me go that October night and wow wow wow it was a fight all year long… but the irony is, that means it was always there. Always with. Always present. Joy, joy, joy. Even in the night.⁣ ⁣ So I just want to say if joy feels out of reach as 2023 begins, I see you. YOU are a fighter. But friend, you do not have to be enough. God already is. You can show up weary or weeping. He will not let you go. 🫶🏻
Too often, we carry careless words around without Too often, we carry careless words around without recognizing that we’ve internalized the script, a quiet hum of “you’re too ___” or “you’re not ___” or “if only you were ___” becoming background noise.⁣ ⁣ I can’t tell you exactly where the “stop” button is for the soundtrack, but maybe the first step is to recognize the tune and ask the Lord what is true. You can trust Him to be gentle, kind, and “most careful” with you (Matt. 11:29, 1 Peter 5:7).⁣ ⁣ And so, if I may, a reminder and an invitation here at the start of the new year.⁣ ⁣ 💛 Our words hold weight. They can wound or encourage, tear down or build up. May we, as @HolleyGerth so beautifully says, be people who only speak words that make souls stronger. May we hold onto the good and kind, as well as the needed and helpful, while recognizing the garbage that isn’t ours to hold. May we not only think but also speak what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy (Phil. 4:8).⁣ ⁣ 💛 I’m so sorry if someone’s words have hurt you. Words can wound, intentional or not. But I want you to know—you don’t have to hold onto every single one. It’s not as easy as tying a bow and taking out the trash, but maybe today you call a friend and let them speak what is actually true. Maybe you declare it to be trash day, mentally setting the can at the curb, tossing out the garbage words and holding onto the truth.⁣ ⁣ You are loved. So loved.⁣ ⁣ And you are not a trash can.
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