I spend a lot of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I’ve realized this, lately. That whenever something good comes around, I’m just waiting for the bad to come with it. When there’s an exciting new beginning, I can almost see the bittersweet ending around the corner. I’m a firm believer in “if it seems too good to be true, it probably is” – except that, to me, any form of good seems too good. Any kind of happiness seems like it can’t possibly last. Any unexpected sweetness can’t be trusted.
Maybe it’s the result of getting sick as a teenager. Maybe it’s my reaction to certain life events. Maybe it’s part of being an Enneagram 5. Maybe it’s simply how I’m wired. In all honesty, it’s a probably a combination of all of the above and then some. I’m slow to trust people, but I’m even slower to trust life. Read More
I recently got home from a family vacation in Hawaii. (Yes, my life is wonderful and sometimes I fly to a Hawaiian island for 5 days. Also sometimes I end up in urgent care on said island to get a cyst cut of my back. Just some perspective for the internet – no one’s life is perfect. Even on vacation in Hawaii.)
I finished finals Thursday night. I had to be at the airport Friday morning. So I was already a little dazed, a little what-day-is-it, a little haven’t-eaten-a-real-meal-in-a-while. Our first morning there, I woke up and did what I do every morning: sat on Instagram for too long. I finally made my way to the kitchen. Got some coffee. Stood on our gorgeous balcony. Read my book. We decided to make breakfast. We decided what to make for breakfast. We made breakfast. We ate said breakfast. We debated what we wanted to do; finally decided on a hike. Changed into hiking clothes. Dang, I thought myself, today must be halfway over already. We just wasted half the day sitting around. I checked the clock to find out it was only 9:30.
I was told of this phenomenon of island time. It’s a slower pace of life, a different mindset to live by. Things might not start on time. Or they might. Who knows. Time feels like a foreign concept – sometimes we’d be at dinner and it felt like 3 hours only to find out it was a 30 minute meal. Other times our 15 minute car ride felt like an hour and a half. What. Is. Happening. Read More
I’ve learned when you start grad school in your mid-20s, everyone wants to know why. They want to know what’s next. They want to know your end goal.
Seminary is great and all, but what do you want to do when you graduate??
It’s the same thing when you’re a writer and suddenly find yourself networking with other writers and creatives. So, where are you headed? What are you working towards? What’s the dream?
Which are great questions and all. Except I have no idea. Read More
It was a Sunday afternoon, and I was getting ready to teach a workshop on breaking up in the Church.
The previous Thursday, I had a piece published on why the Church needs to start getting political.
On Monday, I was about to start seminary.
It was a whirlwind weekend, to be sure. A seemingly random assortment of events to all land on top of each other, 3 out of the blue things to be happening in my life. Except that, as I was reflecting on their randomness that Sunday afternoon, the Spirit whispered, “Haven’t you been paying attention?” Read More
In case we haven’t met yet: Welcome to my blog. My name is Krysti. I write all about being single on the public internet. Who knew this would be my life, but here we are.
It’s pretty weird being “that girl who writes about singleness” – but here I go again reinforcing that title, right? The strangest thing to me about being single is how little we talk about being single. Besides, of course, how much we talk about singleness being so hard and singleness being so lonely and singleness being the worst. And then of course we (and by ‘we’ I mean ‘married people’) talk about season of singleness and how to pray your way through and how to persevere and oh, wait, we’re back to talking about how singleness is the worst again.
I think we need to start talking about it more. At the very least, so I’m done being typecasted as the one weirdo who keeps doing so. If we talked about singleness more, if we all shared our experiences, maybe I would have known these things ahead of time. Instead they caught me completely off guard…. Read More
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve reread the Harry Potter series, but each time feels – forgive my pun – uniquely magical. This December I got wrapped up in the books once again and was living, breathing, and dreaming the world of talking portraits, mail by owls, and – best of all – chocolate for medicine.
This time felt different, though. Maybe it was rereading them as a full fledged, full time working adult. Maybe it was the all consuming-ness of reading ~4,100 pages of fiction in 32 days. But I think it was the time: arriving at the very end of the shitshow that 2017 was for America (and the world), the words on the pages felt strangely poignant, prophetic, and personal. Read More
Ive always felt weird about new years resolutions. Partly because no one sticks to them, partly because they are cliche, partly because, at least in Southern California, they are typically body image related. Making a list at the beginning of a 365 day mark seems strange to me.
It seems useless, if I’m being honest. (And I love lists.)
But I’ve always loved end of year reflections – looking back on the past year, dreaming of the new one. Not focussing on what you’ve done wrong thus far in life, and how to correct yourself in the new year – but seeking out some growth areas. Maybe that is exactly what new years resolutions are, and you’re rolling your eyes at me for being the most annoying kind of hipster. Whatever. Read More
Singing Christmas carols at church always gets to me. Singing the words, surrounded by my people, puts me smack dab in the middle of the Christmas story like nothing else can. I can’t quite explain it. This year, while singing the same songs as always, a new Christmas-time truth hit me: It feels like we’re living under the rule of a King Herod.
A ruler obsessed with himself, who fakes religious interest to gain the trust of certain people, whose wrath isn’t to be messed with and whose reign was historically polarizing. Are we talking about Rome circa 4 BC or America in 2017…?
Hmmm. Read More
A year ago, I never thought I’d be back here. Going on three days of not sleeping, trying to figure out my hair’s newest texture – figuring out a new normal as my body and thyroid battle it out once again. A war I thought was over. Now a seemingly never ending battle.
My dad got para-thyroid surgery a few weeks ago. Soon we’ll have matching scars on our neck; our health problems slightly different while our age of diagnosis makes all the difference. This holiday season I realized you can be mad about the disease or thankful for the medicine. Mad about the genetic lottery you seemingly lost or thankful for winning some kind of birthright lottery that landed you in a country with modern technology. Mad over what feels unfairly taken or thankful over what feels unfairly given. Read More
The day after a man walked into a Texas church and opened fire, killing 26 people, I was standing outside an auditorium getting pat down, having my purse checked, before I could walk inside. I had driven up to LA for evening (madness, I know) with two friends to hear an author speak. Throughout the whole evening, there remained one security guard onstage, eyes continuously scanning the crowd except for the moments he bent his head down to listen to an ear piece. Two other security guards took turns walking around the packed auditorium, one standing up front, the other strolling around. Every 10 minutes or so they would chit chat quietly, and then the other would take his turn walking (I’m assuming) the premises.
The author was riveting, I have been looking forward to hearing him for weeks, but I couldn’t stop focussing on the security guards. I couldn’t stop staring at them, looking for any signs there was danger – either inside the walls, or outside, about to burst in. I was in a packed auditorium, the kind where people can barely squeeze by you to their seats, even when you stand up to give them room. There were roughly 1200 people in attendance, including those sitting in the balcony. I kept wondering what we would do if someone were to open fire.
This is what it means to be an American in 2017. Read More