kaitlinmcduffie

[kaitlinmcduffie]

A Holy Calling

“Maybe next time you’ll remember my water bottle.”

Children can be quite unintentionally merciless. They see you make a mistake and they call you on it right away. Never mind that you gave up all of your basic needs for the first year of their life or that you stuff your purse with every little thing they might want and leave behind the one thing you actually need. It’s enough to make you want to yell, as I overheard a mother at a park say, “I don’t appreciate being treated this way, especially when I do everything for you!”

So let’s all agree that motherhood is, among other things, an uphill climb of mundane tasks which your primary audience does not appreciate you for. If you’ve ever cleaned cottage cheese off your wood floors because your two year old daughter doesn’t seem to understand “don’t drop your food, it’s not appropriate behavior” or attempted to get several splinters out of the squirming foot of your 4 year old son, then you know what I mean. There is very little of the glamorous or sexy in mothering, no matter what certain Instagram accounts, posts, or filters may convey. And it is nothing like a regular job; when you’re a mom, there are no:

Pay raises for more work done. Paid time off and benefits. Praise for a job well done. Promotions for milestones passed.

Honestly, that can seem discouraging, nay dispiriting. Why be in a job where there is so little in it for you, the person doing all the work? The tasks are endless, the applause nonexistent; there’s never enough hands (or wipes); and the people you spend the most time with really don’t care that you work so hard for them.

And yet.

The moment my firstborn was laid in my arms, I knew that I would literally give up anything to be with him, and I would do anything for him. And I’ve done just that. I have cleaned bottoms, washed hands, wiped noses, brushed hair, and bathed bodies. I have read (and re-read) books, built train tracks, created LEGO villages, raced cars, pretended “house,” and played hide ’n seek. I have chased, tickled, hugged, scolded, and yes, even occasionally, disciplined my children. I have wiped up vomit, kissed boo-boos, washed bedding, and sanitized cribs. And yes, I have also lost my mind, my temper, and the thing that I need the most in a specific moment more times than I can count– I now understand why sainthood is earned because I have certainly not come naturally into saintly behavior as I work, moment by moment, to show my kids the face of Jesus.

Strangely enough, in spite of everything, it’s that last part which keeps me going. My job, above the never-stopping chores and the nonexistent cheering section, is to mirror the character of a holy God. In that way, I think motherhood is a microcosm of the Christian life; indeed, to be a mother is a holy calling. We get saved and we start a journey of becoming more like Jesus. Loving our neighbor, participating in a church community, giving generously to the poor, studying the Scriptures, obeying the commandments, allowing the Holy Spirit to refine our hearts– all of these things which demonstrate that we reflect the image of God.

Every day there are struggles and triumphs; there is nothing perfect about this upward climb, and the rewards seem so far away. Yet we know there are rewards because God has promised them! When we reach the top of the mountain, we’ll look down and back over our lives and see the glorious path of sanctification. So it is with being a mom.

We know we’re doing this hard work and we wonder if we’re getting anywhere, if anyone cares, if we’re going to make it to the end. In the day-to-day, perhaps we can’t or won’t see it. But God sees us; and as He looks at us, He beckons us to look at Him. Not at the big rocks in our path; not at the wind blowing the trees; not at the shadows of wild animals to our left and right; not at the setting sun or the impending storms; not at the sweat stinging our eyes or the insects nibbling at our exposed flesh; not at our aching muscles and tired feet.

“Fix your eyes on Jesus, Author and Perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him embraced the cross, despising the shame.”

I believe when we look at Him, then His face is reflected in ours, and that’s how our children see Who He is. Yes, in the midst of making chocolate milk, measuring household items with a tiny tape measure, and masking a smile with a serious listening face when your kid’s woes are just too much. In those mundane tasks is where our sanctification (and our kids’!) is taking place. And that makes every sacrifice worth it. Our kids may give us a crappy performance review; it’s common knowledge that five year olds only see the forgotten water bottle, not the 10,000 other things you’ve done for them, am I right? But our heavenly Father sees our labors.

And no, my dear mothers, they are not in vain.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Checking In

“Have you checked in with yourself lately?”

I got really choked up at the end of my yoga session today. Towards the end of the video, the instructor told us to place our feet together, soles touching; and then gave some tips on how to hold them, perhaps even to massage them. I balked for about 10 seconds (I hate having my feet touched!) and then thought, “Eh, what can it hurt?”

It felt so nice. I don’t know quite how to describe it. But I felt like I was taking care of my body, perhaps even “loving and honoring” it as it is in this moment (and not just how I wish it looked). I enjoyed it so much that I ignored the next direction and just stayed in that position. Cue the tears.

I am in a tough season. I have three children under the age of 5, one of whom still requires being fed every three hours (and at least once in the middle of the night/morning). I wash dishes, do laundry, clean house, and go grocery shopping; all normal chores but it feels mind-numbingly unending. In the midst of that, I try to find time to read books and get in a date night with my husband. Add a pandemic and this renewed conversation around racial injustice, and my emotions sometimes feel like they can’t breathe. I am so freaking tired all the time. Prioritizing myself isn’t easy.

But then I remind myself of this:

EASY IS NOT THE GOAL. HARD IS NOT FOREVER.

This is a season. My children require my almost complete attention. Particularly Ginny– you cannot leave that wild child alone for a moment! Prioritizing myself is sometimes literally impossible. But, I am learning this: to do what I can when I can and to be content with that. It comes down to choosing what will fit, and gracefully leaving the rest to be done at another time.

Today, that looked like lingering with Theo after his first morning feeding; to spend time with our happy baby is to know how peace feels. It looked like choosing a long hot shower over a high intensity workout. It looked like eating sugar cookie dough for a snack with Malcolm and Ginny because today is National Sugar Cookie Day. It looked like choosing yoga so I could stick to my goal of working out M-F but not punishing myself for eating the aforementioned cookie dough with a workout to “burn off” the treat. It looked like pausing that yoga session to feed Theo and not being impatient about the interruption. It looked like leaning into the uncomfortable parts of the yoga practice and learning I can check in with my body and somehow know that things will be OK.

I actually believe that last part. Oh, I’m no optimist! I frequently assume the worst of others; criticize all my shortcomings; and brace myself for all the bad scenarios that are sure to unfold. But I also indulge in “extravagant hope” because I know God is with me in the midst of my hard season. It may seem like I’m just a cow, a child chaser, and a cleaner but I know two things: I am so much more (because God’s name is written on my heart) and I am equal to any task no matter how mundane or difficult (because God’s strength fills my heart).

So here I am, checking in: I am tired but not knocked out; I am weary but not forsaken. I am grateful for the life I have. Here’s to little foot massages and squares of sugar cookie dough. And thank the Lord for His grace.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

It’s been 10 years.

"In less than a month, it will have been ten years since my Grandma passed away." Uttering those words to my husband just now, I was struck by how sad I still feel about her death. She had Alzheimer's for the eight years preceding her passing; watching the woman we loved move from vibrancy to frailty was the most painful life event that I have ever witnessed. At the end, living in a nursing home, the only thing that she seemed to recognize was the hymns we sang to her. She'd get a sweet smile on her face and try to sing along, her lips making shapes but no sounds coming out. As we did, I thought of how we'd sing those sweet songs together at her church, the beautiful words echoing amongst stained glass windows, banners with appliquéd lilies and lambs, and wooden pews with no cushions. Today, I heard the words "and Lord haste the day that my faith shall be sight" and tears filled my eyes. I think of her sweet devotion to Jesus, how much she loved Him through everything she encountered in her time on earth: death of her marriage through divorce, death of her parents, and even the death of her memories. How overjoyed she must have been when her spirit rose out of her decaying body and entered the presence of our Savior as He fulfilled the promises of Revelation: "There will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain." I am, of course, glad about that; but I can't help but wish she was here, sound of mind and singing with me still. I suppose that is sorrow: grateful she's joined the heavenly host and grieving she's no longer part of the earthly choir.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Unexpected

“GOD SHOWS UP WHEN WE LEAST EXPECT IT. YOU CAN’T MISS HIM. HE WILL STOP YOU IN YOUR TRACKS. BUT DON’T BE AFRAID, HE IS WITH YOU.” -Wayne Wolf

A couple of months ago, we had a health scare with our new baby. There was a bright spot on the ultrasound, an apparent calcification in his stomach. The doctor told us it could be nothing or it could be indicative of a chromosome anomaly. The next forty-eight hours, as we waited for the follow-up appointment, were some of the worst in my recent memory.

There’s a song by Francesca Batistelli which says, “Everything inside me cries for order, everything inside me wants to hide,” and it deeply resonates with how I have felt at every stage of this pregnancy. From not wanting this baby at all to being terrified something was horribly wrong, I have desperately prayed for peace. Perhaps more accurately, I have prayed there was an aspect of this situation I could control. I am still convinced control would make me feel better in the midst of the unexpected.

Fortunately, at that next appointment, we were told the calcification had shrunk and our little man was growing big and strong. Jeremy and I were so deeply relieved! But even in that moment, I was struck at how God has continued to use this pregnancy to show me that the unexpected–nay, the disruptive– is a gift. And perhaps this is the message, not just of life but also of Christmas.

We assume we know what’s best and perfect for ourselves. We’ve made the plans; read the Scriptures; consulted the experts; and maybe even prayed over the outcome we want. And while these are good, common sense steps to take, the reality is we cannot prepare for every contingency. Perhaps even more importantly, we cannot comprehend the mystery which is God’s divine plan.

He sees into our hearts; and He not only sees what we want but also what we desperately–and so often unknowingly–need. Because of this, I am convinced He will interfere, stop us in our tracks, show up in unexpected ways.

Israel wanted a king; God sent them a Shepherd. I wanted control; God allowed chaos and asked, “Will you trust Me?”

Disruptions unsettle and annoy me. But perhaps what the unexpected does for me is demonstrate that in my lack of control, I am not alone– God is with me. If I could control my life, I wouldn’t need a Savior. But because He is with me, I don’t have to worry about whether I’ve got a grasp on everything: “You will hold me in the end; every moment in the middle, make my heart Your Bethlehem, be born in me.”

[kaitlinmcduffie]

A Little Over Half-Way There

Content warning: I know the topic of having babies can be hard for many. There are families who long for children and can’t have them for a number of reasons. But I want to be transparent about another angle on this: getting unexpectedly pregnant and grieving it. In the interest of those who might not want to read about my experience, I wanted to be upfront about where I’m going with this post. And my prayers are with those of you who are in the midst of the struggle to have children.

Twenty-five weeks ago, give or take a few days, I knew I was pregnant. 

But I desperately didn’t want to be. It was not the plan. Jeremy and I were content with two children and had no intentions of having more. In our estimation, our life was perfect. But I just knew in my heart I was pregnant, weeks before I even took a test. And my heart was sinking as I thought about it.

So I prayed. I literally prayed what I called “imprecatory prayers against my uterus.” I was so afraid of what being pregnant would mean for myself and our family. I would gain weight. I would have to give birth. I would lose sleep. I would have to breastfeed. I would have to adjust schedules and routines. I would have to navigate introducing a new sibling to my son and daughter. I would need to figure out what parenting three children would look like.

Fear consumed me. And thus, I continued praying I was somehow mistaken.

But I wasn’t. After taking three tests (one mistake, one at the wrong time of day, and one first thing in the morning), it was clear: two distinct lines. I was pregnant with our third child.

I looked at myself in the mirror and burst into tears. I sobbed for the longest time. The deep, ugly-face kind that turn into memes. I cannot remember the last time I was so sad. And those feelings didn’t go away for fourteen weeks.

This was difficult. I love babies and I wanted to be happy. But I knew I had to be honest.

I was angry at this turn of events. I was sad at the change to my perfect plan. I was afraid of the future. I was lonely because it felt like I was the only one who could feel this way.

A friend of mine told me that grieving is rarely linear, or even circular. There is nothing neat about grief. It’s like Jeremy Bearimy from “The Good Place,” a squiggly timeline that spells out a nonsense name. And it certainly felt nonsensical as I processed what our new life would look like with three children.

But lest you think this story just meanders on, I want to share this amazing truth: God met me in the midst of this. Songs, hymns, Scripture, books, friends, rest– He never left me alone, not for a moment. He reminded me it’s OK to be sad. He gently told me that being in control is an idol of mine and that this pregnancy might be His way of showing me to trust Him. He showed me His heart is in everything He makes. He reminded me He only gives good gifts.

And this isn’t a neat bow to tie off the story of my third pregnancy. I have had weeks of low-key happiness; I’m still not in a place of unbridled joy. I am often still scared and sad. I cried when I found out at twenty weeks that I was having a boy (wanting a girl was my last ditch attempt to control this situation). As I wrote in my journal two weeks ago: “It can be so hard to have your plans thwarted. I hate–no, loathe–losing control. And believe me, an unplanned pregnancy will upend all your preconceived notions of what life will be. I have no doubt there will be more to process. But today, I feel mostly OK about it.”

And I’ve come to see that OK, although wildly imperfect, is good enough.

Eight week ultrasound.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

McDuffie Advent Guide

Perhaps you’ve heard of Advent and you’re curious what it’s about. Or maybe you’re like me and grew up doing it as part of your holiday traditions, and are looking for a way to incorporate with your own kids. For a time, it was difficult to find good resources! When I went to Barnes and Noble seven Christmases ago, they had *one* Advent resource for kids. Fortunately, it turned out to be a great book (I’ve linked it later in this post) and I’m so glad it was available because it helped me reignite my love for this tradition and gave me the ability to jumpstart it with my own family! But thankfully, in the past several years, that has largely changed and I am delighted to be able to share an entire list with you (also linked later in this post) 

So, if you’re wondering how to go about this wonderful tradition, I wanted to share my ideas and the resources I have discovered, to hopefully inspire you.

One: candles and a wreath. There is long-standing tradition and symbolism that goes into this portion. The wreath, being a circle, represents the unending love of God or the eternal aspect of His nature. The candles–three purple, one pink, one white–represent love (purple), joy (pink), and Christ/purity (white). However, since I’m going for simple, I think you need only find 5 candles of your liking (I picked red because it’s festive) and a device to hold them all together in the center of your dining room table. I incorporate a wreath to hide the candle holders so take that as your cue to be as creative as you like to match your holiday decor! I’ve linked the candle holders I’ve found on Amazon, Hobby Lobby, and Etsy. Note: for this last resource, just type “advent candle holder” into the Etsy search engine and there are dozens of options beyond the one I chose to share here. 

Two: light the candles, recite scripture, sing, read a devotional, and say a prayer; in other words, “order of service.” We all know kids have a short attention span! But I think Advent can be a short program–10-20 minutes!–and easily integrated with bedtime during the holidays.

1. Light the candle and say its name (see below in bold letters).

2. Read/recite a short Bible verse (I’ve put a succinct version in italics below, for you to coach your kids through; they have a week to memorize it and it’s beyond amazing to hear little voices lisp Scripture).

3. Sing a Christmas hymn, also below (it’s all right if you’re off key; remember, it’s about “making a joyful noise”).

4. Read a Christmas devotional (link to the entire list on Amazon). There are truly so many resources now, praise God, that it’s the simplest thing in the world to find one! I’ve typed up the list for you to see: 

-The Advent Storybook (Laura Richie) -Unwrapping the Names of Jesus (Asheritah Ciuciu) -25 Days of the Christmas Story (Dr. Josh Straub) -The 25 Days of Christmas (James Merritt) -The Advent of Glory (RC Sproul) -One Wintry Night (Ruth Bell Graham) -God in the Manger (John MacArthur) -Hosanna in Excelsis (David & Barbara Leeman) -From Heaven (A. W. Tozer) -The Dawning of Indestructible Joy (John Piper) -Good News of Great Joy (John Piper) -Heaven & Nature Sing (Hannah Anderson) -Joy to the World (Charles Spurgeon) -Come, Let Us Adore Him (Paul David Tripp) -Emmanuel: An Invitation To Prepare Him Room (Ruth C. Simons)

5. Pray together, asking God to make your hearts soft to the Savior’s invitation as you anticipate celebrating His birth.

6. Snuff the candle out (snuffer here)! Kids take great joy in this responsibility (and it’s less dangerous than letting them light the candles!).

Week 1: Hope  Luke 2:30-32/O Come, O Come Emmanuel “For my eyes have seen your salvation.” Week 2: Love Micah 5:2/O Little Town of Bethlehem “For out of you shall come forth a ruler.” Week 3: Joy  Luke 1:46-49/Hark! The Herald Angels Sing “My soul exalts the Lord.” Week 4: Peace Isaiah 9:6/Silent Night “And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Christmas Day: Jesus Luke 2:11/Joy to the World + Go Tell It on the Mountain “There has been born a Savior, Who is Christ the Lord.”

Three: a Christmas book. That Advent resource I mentioned at the beginning? It’s called “Advent Storybook” by Antonie Schneider and is currently available on Amazon for ten dollars! It follows the adventures of Benjamin Bear as his mother tells him twenty-five stories in which he is shown the path to Christ in tales of heroism, love, and kindness. Think of it as a compact book of virtues. Sweetly told and illustrated, my oldest son loved this book from the get-go. Each story is one to three paragraphs and can be easily read in five minutes or less. It’s a great way to cap off an evening of Advent! And if this doesn’t strike your fancy, there are any number of sweet and beautiful picture Christmas books out there, many of which may already be tradition in your home.

And that’s it! The reason I love Advent is simple: Advent pulls you out of the chaos and centers your heart on Christ. The holidays can feel so worrisome, am I right? What family are you visiting, have you bought the right presents, how do you get out of attending yet another Christmas party. But bringing your family around some candles and turning your heart to the truths of Christmas with Scripture, song, and story could be the simple holiday tradition you’re looking for. And I hope these ideas help you get started.

My oldest son doing Advent (2017).

[kaitlinmcduffie]

The “why” of bad stuff.

I believe bad stuff happens because there is nothing else quite like it to refine character. I also believe humans have this great capacity to undergo horrible things and yet come through it, shining a light for the people still in darkness.

But I’ve been thinking there’s more to it.

When you can’t think of what to do; when you don’t know how to feel; and there’s no easy fix (like money), then you’re pushed to this place of dependency on God. It’s in our nature to want to squirm out from under heavy loads; to seek comfort and solace; and to wish for anything what what we’re dealing with.

But the truth is sometimes God puts us between the rock and the hard place and says, “Will You trust I am using this for your good even though it hurts and you can’t see the way out?”

I am not suggesting this is easy or that I’ve mastered it! Oh, I am a master whiner when it comes to bad stuff!

I would like to briefly interrupt my flow and say this: I think God can handle our rough edges; the anger, the sadness, the fear. There is nothing wrong with processing what’s happening to you; in fact, it is healthy do so.

But part of that honesty must be spent in acknowledging that you don’t have it all together and just maybe God in His infinite wisdom uses that frailty to show us how strong He is.

I don’t necessarily think those happen at the same time. I’ve been sad for days or even weeks before coming to a reluctant acceptance that sometimes life gives you a big basket of lemons without an ounce of sugar in sight.

But it will be OK. If there is one incredible truth I am learning, it’s that God has a way of working things out for our good, even when we can’t see the end result. I think of Bible characters who praised God before He gave the victory they needed or the baby they prayed for or the deliverance for which they cried out.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

An imperfect love story.

I’ve been mulling over relationships lately. A lot of times, I think we (society at large) can become very hyper-focused on the differences between partners.

“He’s an introvert, I’m an extrovert.” “She's a One, I’m a Nine.” “In a fight, he retreats and I pursue.”

I get all of that because what I’ve just described is my husband and I. And yet, I don’t see our differences as divisive but as an opportunity to find rhythm with someone who is important to me. 

For instance, I wouldn’t drag my husband to a craft fair because he would be bored by the event and overwhelmed by the crowd. However, I will take him into the city for dinner at a fun restaurant because while it wouldn’t be his first choice, he’ll enjoy the food and my company.

It’s not about compromise so much as it is about enjoying each other.

Another thing I’m discovering is we have more in common than one might assume. Sure, we don’t go to concerts together (I have girlfriends for that) and we don’t play strategy games together (he has buddies for that). But when we do come together, it is always pleasant. He is my best friend and the person with whom I feel most loved and comfortable.

At the end of the day, being with someone isn’t about finding your “soulmate,” a terrible concept Hollywood created so people could meet and fall in love in 90 minutes. Being with someone is about fighting (conflict is inevitable and yes, you can learn how to do it well!) and growing and being honesty about your desires and feelings. And beyond that, learning to love yourself for who you are *and* loving the other person for who they are.

Perhaps that sounds a little boring, maybe lacking in the fireworks which comes from being “completely in sync.” But I’ll take my imperfect love story. Because that’s all we humans can hope for. And it’s more beautiful than you can imagine.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Follow up to “people are doing their best.”

In regards to the question “Do I believe people are doing their best,” I have a story I want to share, lest anyone think this is purely theoretical for me.

Almost a decade ago, a person I am close to deeply hurt me. They assumed the worst of a situation and accused me of several things. I was shocked. Because I didn’t know how to process my feelings in order to have an honest conversation, I shoved all my anger and sadness to a dark corner of my heart and apologized to “restore” the relationship.

Over the years, I’ve come back to that situation and regretted what I did, and also the change in our relationship. But as I’ve considered the incident, I’ve concluded a couple of things.

One, I must be kind to myself. I didn’t know how to process my feelings and be honest so I can’t beat myself up for what I didn’t know.

Two, that person was going through some horrible life stuff. I am not excusing the hurt they caused me but I am now willing to say, “I believe that person was doing their best.” It may not seem best but it was their best in that time.

Now that I’ve dealt with everything, I am OK. 

As I’ve previously stated, admitting that we’re all trying our best doesn’t excuse bad choices; but it does help us heal and move forward in honesty. Very few situations are either-or; there is good and bad in every situation. We must look at both, and then continue to believe the best of others.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

People are doing their best.

I’ve been mulling something over and want to talk about my thoughts. In the book “Rising Strong,” Brené Brown grapples with this question:

“Do I believe people are doing the best they can?”

It hit me really hard. I am very critical, of myself and others. If I’ve thought something critical of you, believe me when I say I mete it out much more harshly towards myself. I almost never give myself the benefit of the doubt, much less other people.

But as I’ve been reflecting on what she said, I’ve concluded this:

People are doing their best.

Sometimes, that best is tainted by sin and fear, and ends up hurting people. To be fair, I know I’ve done the same. I think we all hurt, ourselves and each other.

This is not to suggest there are no consequences or repercussions from bad choices, or that boundaries aren’t necessary (including prison in cases where the laws has been broken!). But it is to gently say that perhaps we could move towards healing if we were more forgiving, first to ourselves and then to others.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Purity

THE CHRISTIAN LIFE IS NOT, AND CANNOT BE, ONLY ABOUT SEXUAL PURITY.

I have been wrestling with this concept ever since I left college. After exiting the bubble known as a Christ-centered, liberal arts university, I began to wonder why the focus of being a good Christian was so often narrowly focused only on our sexuality. Though I value virginity, I think that it is often glorified over more or equally important principles by which we should be living our lives for Christ. That “more or equally important principle” is what I want to focus on in this post today regarding holiness and sexuality. 
 I was taught growing up that sex outside of marriage was the worst sin I could commit. But, if I saved sex for marriage, my wedding night would be mind-blowingly awesome and what would follow would be true wedded bliss. The idea made sense to me; I loved Jesus, therefore I would be sexually pure at all costs. I committed to “True Love Waits” when I was 13, refused to date in high school, and wore a purity ring from the time I was 17 till I got married. I met a great guy when I was 18, fell in love, dated him all four years of college, and got married 6 months and two weeks after graduating. 
 So, on the one hand, “true love waits” worked for me; I held my virginity in a vise grip and made it to marriage. But, on the other hand, there was a gap in my theology. I was so focused on that finish line (marriage) that I didn’t stop to consider why I was striving so hard for it. Or, for that matter, why any of us young Christian men and women were fighting for our purity with such a vengeance. We all understand on a theoretical level that there is more to life than sex. And yet we are over-infatuated with the idea of saving ourselves and holding out for “the One.” Let’s be honest: How many young people would wait for love if they knew it wasn’t coming during or right after college? We think of “true love waits” as that time period between puberty and the end of our undergraduate degree. That is the timeframe in which we all think about and strive for sexual purity. But, as statistics are proving, that timeframe is getting longer as the years go by. Waiting on true love sometimes takes forever, never happens, or isn’t a possibility. 
 Please don’t misunderstand me: I think saving sex for marriage is a biblical principle and certainly an important concept to teach young people. But it should not be the framework by which we judge our worthiness before Christ or the Church. Single people are not less than married people because they don’t get sex; people who have saved themselves for marriage are not better than those who have done it prior to marriage. We are so much more than our sexuality; we are heart, mind, and body. So why do we pour all our energy into “saving ourselves” (or feeling shame for not) when we should be concentrating on something else entirely, a principle which encompasses our whole being? And here’s the contrast I want to present: 
 THE CHRISTIAN LIFE IS NOT ABOUT SEXUAL PURITY; RATHER, THE CHRISTIAN LIFE IS ABOUT HOLINESS.

You see, when we pursue holiness, we are trying to be more like Christ. And what was Christ like? He loved sinners. He healed the sick. He listened to the hurting. He fed the hungry. He spoke truths to people who would not listen. He walked for miles so that He could spread the message of salvation. He was homeless. He was celibate. He prayed daily. He resisted temptation. He chastised the prideful. He warned people of the consequences of their poor choices. He relied on God for His strength. He wept over His losses and His trials. He was beaten and killed so that we might be saved. 
 When I peruse this list, fifteen out of sixteen of these items have nothing to do with sexual purity. In fact, Christ’s focus was living His entire life before God with holiness. This involved caring for people, acting selflessly, speaking the truth, refusing to give into sin of any kind (which did include abstaining from sex), and being in sync with God’s will and Word. Christ did all of these things not for Himself but for His Father, because He wanted to please Him. 
 If sexual purity is taught as “true love waits,” the finish line is marriage and our prize is sex. It is self-righteousness or self-indulgence which drives us. With holiness, the finish line is heaven and our prize is being in God’s presence for eternity. Therefore, we surrender to God throughout our entire life in acts of selflessness, love, and truth because we love Him more than ourselves. And that has very little to do with how many boys you’ve kissed, how many girls you’ve slept with, or if you’ve chastely girdled yourself till the wedding night. It’s about having a pure heart (seeking God) and pure religion (taking care of the helpless). 
 So instead of focusing on the preservation of our virginity, let’s strive to be holy as Christ is. Because holiness before God is a lifetime commitment, one that stretches beyond pubescent urges, college dating, and thirty year old singleness. Rather than sprinting towards marriage as a way to purely satisfy our bodily urges, let’s take that lifelong journey with Christ, allowing Him to guide our every step, whether that ends in celibacy or wedded bliss. Because sexual purity is not the endgame…being like Jesus is.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

God’s Love > Perfectionism

“I don’t love you for anything you can do. There is nothing you can do to earn my love. I love you simply because you are my wife. I chose you. I love you.”  –my husband

I am one of those “been a Christian all my life” people. I was dedicated as an infant; attended church 2-3 times a week; got saved when I was 8 years old; led an FCA group in high school; went on mission trips; and participated in a nursing home ministry in college. I have doubted my faith at four critical points (13, 18, 22, and 28 years old) but have always been convinced of the truth of Christianity because no other religion offers what Christ does. 

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.

Of course, I'm grateful that I won't go to hell someday. And it's good to know that God is with me wherever I go. But bottom line? I have faith because Jesus loves me.

I am not perfect. I can't be good enough.

For almost my whole life, I have wrestled with perfection. Through no fault of any one person, I grew up in an environment of “be perfect as He is perfect.” That meant controlling (read: suppressing) my emotions because to become angry or sad was a lack of faith in the One Who holds tomorrow. I spent a lot of time in high school waiting till my parents left for their date night and then screaming “into the void” until I was hoarse. I felt like Harry Potter in “The Order of the Phoenix,” full of anger and unspoken emotions, and burdened from being too young to know what to do with them– and also full of shame because I wasn’t acting like a chosen one of Christ. Then to cap it off, I got stuck in a perpetual cycle of not being able to stop sinning. I know that wording sounds a tad awkward but it’s accurate– I was unable to stop sinning and it frustrated me because I was supposed to be working toward “perfect as He is perfect.” So when I messed up and said, “I’m sorry, please forgive me, Lord, I repent,” I expected that to be the end of it. But instead, I kept sinning (sometimes the same sins, sometimes something new) and I was frustrated to the core of my soul because I thought it meant that I was a bad Christian. And thus, shame crept into my heart, convincing me to play the role of the “perfect Christian,” untouched by anything sad, angry or sinful.

I was crippled by the burden of perfectionism but had no idea how badly I was staggering under the weight of it (because I thought this was all normal) until I hauled my butt into counseling. As I shared my life story and uncovered my secrets with my wonderful counselor, I saw how I was trapped in a very sophisticated, two-tiered lie. Perfectionism starts with, “You are so much better than everyone else; look how together you’ve got it.” So, feeling pretty good about myself and my witness, I swam in that pool of pride, only to notice that I was really only treading water because let’s face it– life is often a crap-show. And as I went under, then I heard that inner voice again: “You are so stupid. Who do you think you’re fooling?”

How demoralizing! And I’d been doing that for years, pushing against a current that I wasn’t meant to swim in. God created me to cling tightly to Christ, the only true ship that can guide me through stormy seas. Because, and here’s the truth, dear reader: I am not perfect and I cannot be good enough– I’m not strong enough. But Jesus is good enough and strong enough in my place and when God looks at me, He doesn’t see my sin but His Son’s perfection.

Remember the phrase “be perfect as He is perfect”? What I never realized growing up was that “being perfect” as a believer has NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. In the Greek, as the good ole pastors would say, it means this: “Mature from going through the necessary stages to reach the end-goal, i.e. developed into a consummating completion by fulfilling the necessary process (Blue Letter Bible, emphasis mine).” When Christ said, “I come not to condemn the world but to save it,” He was talking about the definition you just read: developing each of us into perfection so that we could stand before the Father one day, as glorious as He. Not because of any good we’ve done but because of the work He has done in us. In me.

And why does He do this? “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.”

The only step required of me is belief.

Belief that “I don’t have to be perfect in order to be good” (Ian Morgan Cron). Belief that yes, I will sin but God will always forgive me. Belief that I am whole because of the Holy One. Belief that shame is not God’s best for me. Belief that Christ is perfecting me. Belief that I am loved.

All thanks to God, I have now found that place of rest where I know my soul is secure not because of mission trips taken, Bible verses memorized, long stretches of obedience achieved or people evangelized but because "Jesus loves me, this I know.” This journey of a #recoveringperfectionist hasn’t always been easy but I look forward to resting in His goodness, believing that the good work He started will one day be completed in heaven (Philippians 1:6).

[kaitlinmcduffie]

An Inaugural Prayer

May God bless the Obama family as they leave the White House. May God bless the Trump family as they enter the White House. May God put courage and integrity in the hearts of the evangelical leaders. May God take away the fear that is plaguing the Church. May God give guidance to the Senate and House of Representatives. May God strengthen our resolve to not become bedfellows with dictators. May God grant that healthcare remains a viable option for all. May God remove the needs which drive women to get an abortion. May God protect those who have been threatened by racists. May God stir within us a desire to create beautiful art. May God bless us with wisdom to discern the fake from the true. May God move us to take better care of this planet. May God place a burden on our hearts to help the poor and lowly. May God remove the proud who place burdens on the poor and lowly. May God place His unfathomable peace inside each of our hearts. May God prompt us to take action in our communities. May God light a fire inside the Church to be a safe space. May God heal our divided nation. May God be glorified in all things.

Amen.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Mural Crawl: Nashville

Draper James, 12 South

A few months ago, I was chatting with my friend Kaylee about wanting to do a special photography project with my Instax Mini camera. I briefly contemplated going to one local coffee shop a day for a month; but then I remembered that I don’t have $200 to spend on coffee and Lord knows I don’t need that much caffeine and sugar in my life. But being on a kick about all things local, I then thought it would be a great adventure to use one roll of film (10 pictures) at a time and hit up 10 murals with the aforementioned friend.

Five Points, North 11th Street (next to Marathon gas station)

Dancing Bears, East Side Cycle (taken by Kaylee)

I have now done that three times and there’s still SO MANY MORE murals to see! So I’m compiling a list here as a reference point for myself and anyone else who wants to take a tour of free art in this amazing city.

LEFT TO RIGHT Good Food for Good People (4611 Alabama Avenue) Green Pea Salon (2900 12th South Avenue) Dragon Mural, between Posh & Parabo (Hillsboro Village) Hillsboro Village (1602 21st Avenue South) Import Flowers (3636 Murphy Road) Thistle Stop Cafe (5128 Charlotte Avenue) Nomzilla Sushi Et. Cetera (Granada Avenue) Tomatoes (Eastland Avenue) Barista Parlor (519 Gallatin Avenue)

LEFT TO RIGHT Grimey’s Too (1702 8th Avenue South) DCXV (Center 615 Building) Read More, back wall (Marathon Village) Hieroglyphics (Three Brothers Coffee) Avocados (Avo Restaurant) It’s Raining Donuts (Five Daughters Bakery) Nashville (Taylor Street, off Rosa Parks Boulevard) Carter’s Vintage Guitars (625 8th Avenue South) Angel Wings, parking garage (The Gulch) 12 South Taproom, back wall (2318 12 Avenue South)

LEFT TO RIGHT Dose Coffee & Tea* (3431 Murphy Road) Salemtown Board Co. (1003 Buchanan Street) The Basement East (917 Woodland Street0 Galaga (across from 516 Hagan Street) Dancing Bears (East Side Cycle) Curiot (530 Church Street) Halcyon Bikes, back wall (12 South) Little Man with Birds (8th Avenue South & Drexel Street) Rone* (530 Church Street) To Go (Five Daughters Bakery)

Five Points, behind East Side Cycle

And there you have it! 29 murals captured on film and a few additional ones with my iPhone. I look forward to continuing this project in the months and maybe even years ahead. If there are murals that I must add to this list, PLEASE let me know! And you can strike the “I Believe In Nashville” off your list because it probably isn’t happening. I’m a native now, not a tourist. ;-)

*Colors more vibrant in person. Instax Mini captures things imperfectly (thus adding to the charm of this project).

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Real

“Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.” –Katniss Everdeen, MOCKINGJAY

I was always #TeamPeeta. Quite frankly, Gale never compared, Hemsworth brother casting notwithstanding. I think it’s because I find myself drawn to fictional characters that remind me of my husband. And Peeta was no exception.

His continual sacrifices for the woman he loves. His comforting solidarity. His thoughtfulness. His calm demeanor in the face of overwhelming odds.

Having just re-read the Hunger Games series, I was reminded of why I love Peeta so much. It’s because I see a little of myself in Katniss.

I lash out when I’m angry. I worry till I’m paralyzed by fear. I am headstrong. I panic when stuff falls apart.

When I think back over Jeremy’s and my relationship (this year, we will have been together for nine years), I cannot think of a single time where he didn’t put me first. Taking me on long walks when I needed to de-stress at college. Skipping a class to comfort me when my Grandma died. Compromising on a topic that almost broke us up a week before we got engaged. Calling me every day each summer we dated even if he wasn’t feeling up to it. Spoiling me on the honeymoon with so many Disney souvenirs. Surprising me with an accent wall in our first apartment. Coming to see me at work even though it was out of the way. Encouraging me to pursue my dreams of photography and writing. Buying me flowers when he’s out grocery shopping “just because.” Letting me talk him to sleep every night. And honestly, that’s a short list.

Because it’s Valentine’s Day, I just want to share this because I know I am who I am today because of my Peeta. One of the hardest parts of my personality is to feel everything so deeply but also worry that losing control means people will see me at my most vulnerable and walk away. So I vacillate between locking myself down so no one, including me, gets hurt and giving vent to everything in my head. It’s so easy to feel like I’m drowning in my emotions. I am often my worst enemy. But my husband is always there to comfort me, to lift me up. His arms are the place I feel safest. With anyone else, I know I would incinerate myself and anyone standing near me. But he quenches my strongest fires.

I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic. I’m just speaking the truth as I see it played out in my marriage. My husband is the calm balance that makes me a better person. He’s the brick to ground my balloon. He’s the safe to my wild. He’s the anchor steadying my sailboat. He’s the hand holding my kite string. Only Jeremy can give me that.

Happy Valentine’s Day, darling. I pray you know that I love you and our love is the realest thing in my life. Your selfless care for me when I can’t see beyond myself is the greatest gift God could have given me. Thank you for being the Peeta to my Katniss, the promise to my raging fire.

[kaitlinmcduffie]

The Goodness of God

“You have tasted [God’s] goodness every day of your life. Has this experience led you to repentance & faith in Christ?" -J. I. Packer

Perhaps it is only indicative of my human condition but I am outrageously self-absorbed. On a daily basis, I struggle not to be a selfish prick. (This post will also be outrageously self-revealing.) I get angry (not just upset) when my baby cries. I decide that instead of eating healthily (as I should), I’ll just live on spoonfuls of peanut butter. I watch TV shows and YouTube videos instead of reading the Bible. I resent my husband if he asks me to cook dinner because how dare he tread on my few moments of precious alone time. I thumb my way through Facebook even though my son is sitting right in front of me.

And you want to know the worst part? I have the gall to complain.

“My day isn’t going the way I want.” “The Internet isn’t working quickly enough.” “Malcolm won’t stop crying.” “There are never any treats to eat.” “I’m all alone in the house.” “I don’t have the car so I can’t go anywhere.” “Wish I had enough money in the budget to buy fill-in-the-blank.”

That’s right, folks. I work my darnedest to make everything go my way, obtain it in some form or fashion and then whine because somehow the day hasn’t catered itself to me. 

GOD FORBID.

I mean, seriously. One, I should be striving to be selfless, becoming more like Christ with each passing hour and day. I have been given the gift of eternal life and I’m squandering it on a plastic jar of spreadable legumes and episodes of “The Nanny”? Talk about lost perspective*. Two, I have endless blessings in my life and yet I only think about what I don’t have. All right, so this is the classic #firstworldproblem argument but it bears repeating. 

I have heat, running water, a roof over my head and cupboards full of food. I have a media library groaning from the weight of countless books and movies. I have a loving husband and darling child. I have the ability to buy myself fun things. I have a pet rabbit that I’m not raising for stew. I have an amazing crowd of friends. I have loving family that would do anything for me (OK, the baby).

All right, you say, but the world can be a rotten place. How does that line up with a God Who you claim is good to us? I know it’s easy to look around us and think that God has stopped paying attention. Truth of the matter? He has richly blessed each and everyone of us in spite of the world’s–yes, even yours and mine–sin. Even those of us who don’t pay Him a speck of attention. As J. I. Packer further says:

“God’s generosity in bestowing natural blessings is acclaimed in Psalm 145. ‘The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made’ (v. 9). The psalmist’s point is that, since God controls all that happens in his world, every meal, every pleasure, every possession, every bit of sun, every night’s sleep, every moment of health and safety, everything else that sustains and enriches life, is a divine gift (emphasis mine).”

And those times when things go wrong? We must remember two things. One, the world is full of sin; the earth is broken and the people within it are too. Cancer will show up. Loved ones will wrong us. But God sees all of this and sometimes allows these horrible things because, and this brings us to point number two, He wants to discipline us. Perhaps you shy away from that word but it simply means that He only wants to “awaken you from the sleep of spiritual death–and make you rise up to seek his mercy... [or] to keep you from falling into the somnolence of complacency and to ensure that you ‘continue in his goodness’ by letting your sense of need bring you back constantly in self-abasement and faith to seek his face (Knowing God, J. I. Packer).”

Let’s put it this way: it’s hard to be self-absorbed if you’re self-abased. And the only way to remain the latter is to keep our perspective. We are a richly blessed people. We owe God our gratitude for His patience with us. We need to remember that God is not made in our image; He is not a Santa Claus to cater to our expectations of how life should go. And life will be hard. But it doesn’t mean that we don’t have it good.

So let’s keep faith in the goodness of God and forsake selfishness.

*This aside is to make clear that I don’t think it’s evil or wrong to consume peanut butter or lounge in front of the computer/TV. But we must always be careful that even good things don’t take away our focus from Christ. For me, sometimes it’s the little things that make it hard for me to shake off lethargy and make time for God. It’s all about perspective, y’all, not hating on leisure. 

[kaitlinmcduffie]

Things I’ve Learned

My aunt: “How has being a mom changed you?”

Me: “I’d like to say that it’s made me more patient. But that’s simply not true. I think it’s made me realize that I need help. I can’t go at this alone.”

The words I’m about to type are filled with neither profundity or originality. You’ve doubtless read them a dozen times in other, better places. But I feel a tug on my heart to share the things I’ve learned as I’ve embarked on this adventure of motherhood. My prayer is that I will encourage you. 

1.  You are not alone. No matter what, there is always someone who can help. Whether it’s an online forum, a local support group, a family member or a close friend, you are not alone. Which leads to the next thing...

2.  Ask for help. There is no shame in admitting you can’t do something. The greatest thing I learned in the first few weeks was to stop feeling guilty when I’d ask Jeremy to take the baby from me when he came home from work so I could rest until the baby’s next feeding. And this kind of thing is still hard for me. I hate not being able to do everything myself; it makes me feel weak and incompetent. Neither of those things could be further from the truth. A wise person knows when to pass the baby to someone else and say, “Your turn.”

3.  Don’t believe the lies. When you’re up to your eyebrows in late nights, screaming fits and an aching body, it’s hard to think straight. Give yourself grace. You are a good mother. You are doing the best you possibly can. Don’t let anyone guilt-trip you into thinking otherwise.

4.  Turn off the monitors and drown out the noise. Seriously. I had a day where I had the washer, dryer, dishwasher and Spotify going all at once to drown out my baby’s crying. I knew he was OK (full belly, clean diaper, pacifier within reach and comfortable in the crib) and I would do myself no good by agonizing over every noise coming from his room. Guess what? He went to sleep eventually. He got the rest he needed and so did I.

5.  Take care of yourself throughout the day. My rule is that one naptime is for the house (clean the kitchen, fold the laundry and make the bed) and the other is for me (take a shower, binge "Friends,” read a few chapters in my latest book). Even a 30 minute nap can be a break; make good use of it. The wellness of your soul depends on this nourishment.

6.  Leave your baby with your husband. On occasion, I do just that so I can go out with friends or run to Barnes & Noble to browse the spines for a while. YOU ARE IMPORTANT APART FROM YOUR BABY. No matter how demanding your baby may be, it’s not worth you losing your mind. 

7.  Spend time with your spouse. Hire a responsible babysitter. Commit yourself to not stressing while you’re out- trust me, your baby is fine. Go to a hotel and sleep. Grab dinner and wine. Walk through a store and buy a cute onesie for the baby you made as a couple. Remember that: you started out as a couple and you still are a couple. Make your marriage a priority.

8.  Remember that sometimes things get harder before they get easier. My dad used to tell me that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. And he’s right. The ride might be rough. You might want to pull the emergency brake and call it quits. But don’t do it. Do the hard work. Because it will get better.

9.  The “norm” you’re experiencing may not be the norm. For instance: I had a great deal of pain and anxiety with breastfeeding, much of which came from my assumption that what I was dealing with was run-of-the-mill. I felt fortunate to discover that it wasn’t and with help (see #1 and #2 in this list), I was able to change my norm. Don’t be afraid to shake things up. Consult an expert. Go the trial ‘n error route to see if there’s a better way. All I’m trying to say is this: before you resign yourself to a particular fate (be it extreme nursing pain like me or something else like screaming all day ‘n night), thoroughly explore all of your options. You might be surprised by what you discover.

10.”Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all of your ways, acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.” This is the verse I chose for my son; it is the legacy verse of my mom’s family, starting with her grandmother on down. And it is the best possible thing I have learned as a mother: I cannot lean on my own understanding. I cannot make any of this happen on my own. I need to trust the Lord with my heart and ask Him to make my paths straight. Because only then, will I find the necessary peace, hope, and grace to love my child.