My Word for 2021

I used to do New Year's Resolutions. One year mine was to not eat donuts, which was actually very challenging because our Sunday School Class had them every single week. (Guess what- I made it!) But then I grew up a little, and in 2018, I decided to start choosing words of the year. I liked having something to focus on and tie back to in a variety of different areas of my life. In 2018, I chose cultivate, which ended up being way more applicable than I would've ever guessed. In 2019, I chose listen, which was also very very fitting- and is still a work in progress for me. In 2020, I chose trust, which was scarily accurate in a year where I went on sabbatical, started a business, had a new baby, and navigated a pandemic alongside the rest of the world. It was my riskiest year yet, and it has honestly blown me way. Which leads to my word for this year: remember.

As a verb, remember has a couple of different meanings, all largely landing on things like "to bring to mind or think of again" or "to keep in mind for attending or consideration". 

Remember. Recall. Think back on.

This may seem like a strange choice coming out of a year that was arguably everyone's least favorite. Things like lockdowns, health scares, and more were obviously not light and easy- and with a potty-training three year old, a newborn, and two of us teaching from home, there were days I didn't know if we'd make it. But for us, 2020 was actually a pretty incredible year. 

We welcomed Addie Jo into the world on a joy-filled January morning, the sweetest surprise: a daughter. The world shut down and I was able to "come back" virtually from maternity leave early, making money again but still being home with my baby. I never had to leave her, as I went right into Summer and then into my Sabbatical. In March, we had our first Brim wedding and then we went on to have 38 more, ending November 1st, a crazy first season that somehow was more successful because of our unplanned, COVID friendly option for people: affordable, outdoors, and available. The timing of it all is almost scary, and definitely not luck. Throw in the additional financial blessings of stimulus checks when I had just cut our overall take home finances in more than half, and we had so much to be grateful for. Not to mention the amazing and generous support of so many who believe in us. 

I don't say this to brag or to make light of any of the hurt and devastation that has come to many during this time. I say it to focus on specific good we experienced and to be grateful for the silver linings. There were hard things the year brought too- new stresses and new worries, but they do pale in comparison to the struggles of many. I say this to remember.

 “I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds. Psalm 77:11-12

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 

 

Why? Because I not only want to remember these little bright spots of 2020, but I want to forever remember a year when I went all in on what I felt like I was being called to in this specific season, no matter how terrifying it was or how risky it felt. So much unknown, so many what ifs that weren't answered and yet I had to make decisions and go with it. 

I want to remember that God delivered and provided. He was faithful. I want to remember that being called doesn't mean it will be easy- to just keep walking in faith, waiting for just enough light to take the next step. I want to remember the way that I felt when I watched our first Brim bride walk down our ceremony aisle to say "I do" on a breezy March Monday afternoon. To remember where we came from and why we started all of this in the first place.

Why? How does this move me forward rather than just keeping me nostalgic?

I want to remember because I never want to take for granted how blessed I am to be where I am right now,  even when it is stressful or difficult. I want to remember because I want to slow down and make time for what is most important: faith, family, and friends, even if it means letting things sit undone for a while. I want to remember because I want to rest in knowing that God has a plan that is for my good, that He is with me, and that He has never failed me yet.

I want to remember because I want to trust, I want to rest, I want to listen and learn and grow and so much more. I'm still a work in progress, and I always will be. There is so SO much up ahead that is incredibly daunting (like building a wedding chapel and planning for more), and there is a lot of stress and a lot of potential worry that can creep in. So when that does, when I long for control and I start to spiral into anxiety, I want to remember that I have already been given much much more than I could ever have expected or asked for. And I want to make it count by blessing others as much as I can.

Happy New Year to you all! 

Currently,

Kelsie

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31.

30 has come and gone. I may only be changing digits and not decades this year, but it has been one of growth and being stretched in ways I never anticipated. 30 brought our sweet baby girl. It brought bump pics and potty training and cheesin after church. It brought the launch of The Brim, and learning how to be business partners with your spouse (and somehow still like each other). It brought questions and dreams, risks and leaps. Being stretched in more ways than I knew possible, and yet somehow feeling invigorated by the change I typically hate. It brought learning how to be a mom of two, working online from home, and never “going back” in person from my maternity leave. It brought a global pandemic, anxiety, and a season of waiting and longing while also holding on to hope and trust. It brought the decision to step away from teaching for a season, to follow my heart and my current calling, even through it’s risky and unknown. 

I may not be reflecting on an entire decade today, but somehow I feel like this year has grown me in similar ways to that of all my twenties combined. Just when you think you’ve figured out a good chunk of your life, things seems to be shaken up and rearranged with more questions than answers. And yet, there is beauty in the journey and joy in the unveiling of the next step ahead- with just enough light to find footing on a path that is largely dark. 

I know I will be here until my purpose is fulfilled, and I am grateful that it seems God has more up His sleeves for my life than I could have dreamed. I’ve realized that it is a blessing to grow older, and so today I march forward with a little more gray in my hair, a little more pep in my step, and a little more confidence that 31 will be a year of growth, hope, and striving to make a difference with the days that I’m given. Here we go! 

Currently,

Kelsie

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Sabbatical

The school year ended May 22nd, and it didn’t even feel like it. I was at home with my kids, not on a sun-soaked football field signing yearbooks for the sweet students I spent the last year, or two, or three years with. There was a unique beauty in online teaching. Being home with Eli and Addie, not having to “go back” from maternity leave, having freedom in my days. But of course there were also struggles: balancing two kids and two teachers working from home, missing the in person interaction of students, co-workers, and friends. One of the weirdest things about it all is this: I walked out of school on January 8, 2020 not knowing that Addie would be born the next morning, that COVID-19 would force online learning, or that I would never get the chance to say goodbye to my students in person. Not knowing that I wouldn’t be back.

For the 2020-2021 school year, I will be taking a leave of absence, or "sabbatical" from teaching. I am both thrilled to be home with my babies, and also a little bit terrified. This is a decision that was not made lightly or easily. I knew that being away from Eli while teaching full-time had been more difficult for me than I anticipated, but I had done it. We had a great sitter, amazing grandmas, and a fairly good routine down. But with Addie joining us, I feel my heart calling me to my own kids for a season. Knowing that I would be teaching full time, adding another kid to the crazy morning mix, and managing a busier season with The Brim left me feeling like I would be doing everything and yet doing none of it well. I wrestled and wrestled with this decision, mainly because I recognize that I have it so good. My poor husband, family, and friends have listened to me talk about whether or not to do this a million times, and even after I finally made my decision, I second-guessed myself. I mourned all of the good things about teaching that I knew that I would be letting go of. It’s a blessing to have a job that you feel torn about stepping away from, even if it's just for a year, and a crazy year at that. 

In May of 2011, I graduated from the University of Missouri and walked the halls of Liberty High School for the first time as a teacher that August. For the last nine years, I have known nothing other than putting on LHS gear and heading across 152 to the school, home of the Blue Jays, to spend my days with pretty incredible kiddos and some really wonderful co-workers. I came in as a 22 year old, freshly out of college, and since then I've had two classrooms, got married, earned my Master's Degree, and had two babies- along with countless other big life moments. I have grown as an adult and have seen the journey of life take different roads than I would ever have anticipated. Teaching AP and Gifted ELA has meant teaching some of the most brilliant, capable, and creative students. And it is very difficult to give that up, knowing that I may never be back in the same place.  

For now, I am basically a "frozen" employee. During my leave, I can put my name in to be “reinstated” and I would be able to get the next open teaching job in my certification (9-12 ELA or Gifted K-12) within the school district. Obviously, this means I am not guaranteed to be back at LHS, which has made all of this much, much harder as I step out of a year where there was certainly no closure. I literally went into my room for one two-hour period and took nine years worth of things off the walls and out of the file cabinets. It felt strange, emotional, and anti-climactic. Surreal really. Normally I would've had weeks of packing things up, slowly navigating through files while still seeing my students and treasuring these last memories with them. My neighbor teacher would have come in with a mug of coffee and we would have laughed about a crazy kid story. I would have shared senior superlatives and read my annual Letter to My Students. Instead, I teared up, took off my mask to take one last selfie outside my room, and walked down an empty hallway by myself, carrying the weight of the fact that I may never be back as a teacher at LHS again. It was like ripping off a bandaid. I cried when I left my keys on a desk in the normally bustling, empty office. That being said, there is also a sense of freedom in knowing that I’m making the right decision for right now, even though there’s so much unknown. Even though it’s scary. 

When people ask, “What do you do?”, I normally say I'm a teacher. For this next year, I’m not really sure yet how I will respond to that question. Honestly, I know this school year will look different for all of the teachers. Not having a typical "first day of school" will feel extra strange for us all; we'll miss the normalcy of our days, the pre-COVID school climate that was better than we realized at the time. My heart goes out to all the teachers in the trenches this year (whether online or virtual), including my own husband. I’m realizing that teaching has been a really huge part of my identity, and the only job that I felt sure I would ever do: potentially at the only school I would ever teach at for 30+ years. But while I find out what the Lord has for the future, I know that I am going to cherish this year with my children, and trust that He will take me right where I should be (and it seems that this sabbatical proved to be pretty timely). He has never failed me yet. 

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It’s hard to believe that over a thousand students have filled the desks in my classroom over the last eight years. 👩🏽‍🏫 A thousand futures, a thousand smiles, a thousand precious lives that have crossed paths with my own. They are my absolute favorite part of teaching: the students. If you were one of my previous students OR YL friends (who'll forever be some of "my kids"), comment below with what you’re up to these days! In honor of all the incredible kiddos I've seen over the years (some who aren’t “kiddos” at all anymore), click @currentlykelsie and the #linkinbio to see my "letter to my students”- my most popular blog post EVER. Happy Teacher Appreciation Week to all the amazing educators I had, taught with, and still learn from! You make a difference! 💕#teachersofinstagram #teacherappreciationweek #teach

A post shared by Kelsie Kleinmeyer | Blogger (@currentlykelsie) on May 6, 2019 at 6:12am PDT

Whatever the next chapter looks like, I am forever grateful for what this one has been. There have been thousands of amazing kids that I've had the pleasure of teaching and have connected with through years of Liberty YoungLife, and I would not have traded a single second of that. I've worked football games and proms, coached softball, attended Senior girls lock ins and amazing musicals, judged Mr. Liberty and taken kids to national NHD competitions and even overseas to Greece. I have been a part of winning faculty basketball teams and choreographed Staffires dances, dressed crazy for spirit weeks, and made a fool of myself on numerous occasions in front of my class of chuckling kids. These high school students have made my job fun and given it purpose, and I am so grateful for all of the relationships made in the hours, days, and years we've shared. My students are forever "my kids", and I'm so excited to see all the amazing things they'll go on to do. If you're one of them reading this, know that I care about you and am so proud of you.

I may be back at LHS. I may not. Time will tell. But one thing is for sure, I am so grateful to be a Bluejay, and I will miss it this school year, COVID and all. Now it's time to go make some memories with my babies. 

Currently,

Kelsie

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My Word for 2020

Ever since 2018, I've been choosing a "word of the year". Although I'm not always into doing what is trendy, I've found that I really enjoy having a word to tie back to: it grounds me, gives me a way to track my goals, and can encompass a variety of my resolutions or hopes. In 2018, I chose cultivate, which ended up being way more applicable than I would've ever guessed. Last year, I chose listen, which was also very very fitting- although admittedly I didn't master it and am still a work in progress. It definitely tied in a TON to all that we had going with The Brim. And now, in 2020, we look ahead to a year brimming with lots of unknown possibilities and hopes. Which leads to my word for this year: trust.

In the noun form, trust is defined as a "firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something." As a verb, it is to "believe in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of".

Trust. Believe. Have faith. Have confidence.

This is something I could stand to do in a lot of areas in 2020. I've found myself to be a lot more of a worrier than I thought. I'm the type of person who can read an email and instantly go to the worst case scenario, already freaking out about how to handle it before it even escalates to the problem that I'm imagining in my mind. I often dream up situations that may not even come to fruition, and yet I worry about and try to plan for them. I question myself, question my successes, question my dreams. I wholeheartedly fear failure, and I worry about the unknown, though I have zero control over it.

It's a type of mild, self-diagnosed anxiety, honestly. So this year, I'm going to strive to choose trust over worry. To trust that I am doing the right things at the right time (after I've thought them through and made a decision). To trust that things will work out. To trust myself and my gut as a parent. Trust that things will look up at some point, even when they are hard or dark in the moment.

To trust in the Lord, and in his plans for our family. To trust that they are to help me and not to harm me, to give me a future and a hope if only I am willing to follow.

To trust my husband, and that he always has the best intentions at heart, even when it doesn't feel that way in an emotional moment.

To trust that I will bring this new little life into the world and that our family will make it through the newborn fog with a toddler.

To trust that stepping out in faith will be worth it.

I'm often a safe person, taking the seemingly secure and risk-free option that seems to make the most sense. And yet, I've been called to take more risks lately. To consider leaping and trusting that a safety net will appear. To step outside of my comfort zone when something wonderful could be waiting on the horizon.

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit."

Jeremiah 17:7-8

"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you." 

Psalm 56:3

We've got lots of big dreams and big goals on the horizon, and 2020 will prove to be a year of leaping and trusting. I am hoping and praying that I will do just what these verses say. That I will continue to trust even if the timeline changes or it seems like a long road lies ahead. That I will remain rooted and planted in a firm foundation, that I will not fear when the heat or drought comes, that I will not be anxious, that I will continue to bear fruit even in the less fruitful seasons. I look forward to 2020 with eager anticipation, striving to choose to trust rather than worry or fear this year, and in the years to come. 

Happy New Year to you all! 

Currently,

Kelsie

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Our New Adventure: Part Three

If you haven't read parts one and two of our story yet, you need to. Trust me. Take a minute to do that here: Part One. Part Two. All caught up? Okay, cool! Let's keep going- it gets even better. 

As we kept coming back to the idea of building a chapel, we started searching online for some inspiration. We wanted something modern and timeless, something white and bright that didn't look "too churchy", but also held to tradition. And in the process, we stumbled upon a chapel that offered free weddings. This place happened to be just twenty minutes away from where we had already booked an Airbnb for our trip (coincidence? I think not), and we were at first baffled, and then incredibly impressed by both their business model and their heart: maybe offering free weddings could be an option. Maybe it would be a way to love couples well and to help them invest not only in their wedding, but more importantly in their marriage.

So we went out on a limb, and we fired off an email, telling a bit of our story (which you've already heard- the letter, the land, the extra land, and more) asking if it would be possible to meet while we were in town. We wanted to pick their brains, to learn from their mistakes, and to gain all the knowledge and expertise we could before adventuring down this road. So we emailed their generic email, and then we waited. And we got a response- they would meet with us. We didn't know just how big of a deal this was at the time, or honestly how big of a deal they were with their other endeavors. And yet, I love that, because it kept our hearts in the right place.

We went on our trip. We stuffed ourselves on amazing food, laughed our way through two step lessons, and hoped and prayed on the way to our meeting that God would do something big. I'll never forget jamming to the Passion worship CD that I'd tucked into my carry-on, Aaron's hand on mine, as he told me that he had a feeling something big was going to happen- something much bigger than us. We rounded the winding roads up into hill country and toured the chapel and campus, a magical place, which was nestled on the side of a cliff. Then we sat down at the table with one of the owners, who had dreamed a dream and brought it to life alongside her husband, just like we hoped to do. Her presence was calming, and she exuded grace and kindness. As we starting telling her our story, her husband entered, and then waved over another man- who turned out to be their architect, who had designed their entire campus. An architect: something we didn't have. Without saying a word, Aaron and I both were invigorated by the question we knew we were silently asking - why was he here?

We began telling them more of our story and heart behind it: that we believed marriage matters. That we felt like it was a time to step into people's lives and love them well, pointing them back towards Christ without ever mentioning his name. That we believed in living life full and showing people that a life with Jesus was meant to be immeasurably more than all that we could ask or hope. That we would be so full of His joy and love that we could then overflow into the lives of others in a positive way. And that we could help people avoid spending a fortune on their wedding, while still having a nice day and investing in what matters even more: their marriage.

They said, "Let's go upstairs", and so we followed them step by step up and into another room, hearts racing as the "meeting" became much more than that. Corks were fetched out of wine bottles. Tears were spilled. Laughter and stories were shared. We told them of our hearts and desires- our long term goals to host anniversary dinners and marriage retreats and offer premarital counseling, something that people usually didn't do unless they were a part of a church, or were getting married in a church that offered it. We told them of the name of our business and of our space: The Brim. A nod towards John 10:10 and also towards John 2:7 where the servants filled the vats "to the brim" with water before Jesus turned it into wine. The idea of a life so full and overflowing that every event, not just weddings, would hopefully be meaningful experiences in our space that left people wondering just what was behind our hope and joy.

They gave us wisdom they didn't even know we needed. Direction we had been longing and praying for. Advice that kept us from making stupid decisions. They reminded us of the importance of telling the story and letting people be a part of it with us, rather than doing it all on our own and attempting to bite off way more than we could chew- to avoid just getting it done as quickly as we could. They reminded us that "it takes what it takes, and it costs what it costs." They encouraged us to seek the Lord and to listen for his leading, taking small steps in faith along the way, and then to "jump and let the safety net appear".

When we mentioned that we didn't have anyone crafting architectural plans, and were attempting to do it all ourselves, the architect threw down his business card and told us that we had a designer now. He then proceeded to offer to design the master plan and the chapel. For free. And he did. He flew out to Kansas City, saw our property, shared a meal and heartfelt conversation with us, and dreamed our dream alongside us, while making it all a little more real. He and his beautiful fiance even came to Eli's second birthday party, and met all our friends and family. We were overjoyed. And we had a design. Our vision had become more focused, more clear, and more real. And it continues to become more and more real.

Additionally, at the end of our meeting, we walked away with a check that paid for 10 months of our mortgage on the land. The exact dollar amount that was normally charged by the owner in order to meet with him, our debt, he paid us instead. He and his wife liked our story and our hearts and they believed in us enough to write us a check, to relieve some of our debt and to give us the means to get things going. We were completely blown away, grateful, and overjoyed. And a little bit in shock. God had utterly amazed us in an unbelievable way.

I remember the drive back to town, the meal we shared, just smiling and shaking within the dim headlights of our rental car, completely in awe of the way God was working. Clearly, at this point, He was leading us and calling us to this. There was too much happening, too many big and crazy things, for this to just be coincidence or just "our" idea. At this point, we felt validated and assured. At this point, we would just be disobedient if we didn't do all we could to make this a reality.

So we went back home to KC. And we opened a business account. We deposited our first income for our little LLC. We got an address, a business phone, and an email. We made what felt like a million phone calls and spent every spare second we had pouring ourselves into this. I worked on our website. And we marched on to make The Brim a reality.

This summer, Aaron resurrected a 1951 bulldozer and started leveling out a parking lot with the help of my dad. He brought water up from the road, installed an irrigation system, put in a gravel parking lot, and planted grass seed. And he put poles in the ground in the dimensions of the future chapel, painted them white, and paved an aisle. Now we're inviting people to come and get married. This area is currently called “Founder's Square” (although we aren't set on that name), and it's a powerful space. Come and see for yourself.

There are so many other stories to tell. A million different things we've had to do, a thousand little struggles, and a thousand other glimmers of hope and excitement. Big things are happening, and we are so blessed to be along for the journey. We are excited to talk to brides, to help them have beautiful free and inexpensive weddings, beautiful receptions, and even more beautiful experiences to shape their marriage. We look forward to other special corporate and private events, like showers, parties, and more. We look forward to the fun and special events that we'll throw for families and friends alike to come join us for meaningful, unique experiences. We're hopeful that we'll see some of you there, and get to love you as best we can. But we can't do it alone. And so, that's where you come in.

Again, this would be pretty incredible end to an amazing, unbelievable story. But we know that God is not finished with this story yet. We have already seen people jumping into this adventure with us, purchasing anniversary bricks and sponsoring poles, helping us invest in marriage in our community. The story is continuing to be written as we speak.

Even if we never see you on our property for an event, we'd love for you to be a part of this story with us. Be a piece of this puzzle, a small line in the vast book that is being written by an amazing author. We believe marriage matters, and we believe you believe it too. Please visit our website, and see how you can be a part of building The Brim with us. Help us make marriage matter, and help others to live life full.

thebrimkc.com

Currently,
Kelsie

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Our New Adventure: Part Two

If you haven't already read part one of our story, take a minute to do that here. You'll need a little back story on why we wanted land and the crazy awesome way we got it. All caught up? Okay, let's continue!

It may sound a little strange, but while we were in the process of buying our 11.1 acres, we also had our eye on some nearby acres. We felt like they'd be the perfect addition to make our land seem whole. Plus, they would give us the ability to do what we wanted to in our county. Sure, we didn't have any money to buy them. And sure, there was probably no way that the owners wanted to sell them. But still, we felt a tug to them, a dream, a hope that someday, somehow, they would be ours. We prayed over it, and even considered writing them a letter too, but we placed it momentarily on the back burner as a "someday" item.

Once we were official landowners, some crazy circumstances led to us being given the additional 5.5 acres that we'd had our eyes on. And, to top that off, we were able to get a driveway cleared and put in for us through the woods, which would have been a nightmare and would've taken forever to do ourselves. We were absolutely blown away. Even now, I can't quite fathom the series of events. Clearly this was much more than our idea. This was something that God was going to make happen, no matter what it took or how daunting it seemed to us.

Not only did this series of events leave us with a total 16.6 acres and a new driveway, but it also made another part of our story a possibility: putting in our own vineyard! In order to do this and have a space that could be used as a tasting room in the county where our land was, you had to have at least 15 acres. Without the extra land, we wouldn't have been able to have a tasting room. We had stepped out in faith, and God had provided in the biggest, craziest way, as He seems to do over and over again on this journey!

Vineyards take time, and you really don't see any wine production happening for at least three to five years or so, but eventually we will be able to have a tasting room by appointment, something we're really looking forward to as it offers the opportunity to share hours of great conversation with those who gather with us. There's something so amazing about working with the land to produce fruit that then can be made into wine- it's such an intriguing process, and something that Aaron has really become passionate about over the years of visiting Napa, Sonoma, and Hermann, along with doing wine tastings all over the nation. And funny that this whole journey began in Napa and now we will (Lord willing) have our own little crop of vines growing on our land someday! As of this summer, they're planted, so we'll see how it goes.

Jumping ahead a bit here- us with the vines in July 2019.

After everything with our newly acquired land was sorted through, we officially were able to apply for our Special Use Permit. This permit allows us to do several really important things: mainly, we are able to use our land as an organized meeting space for weddings, parties, and events for the next 50 years! Long term plans/goals include living on the land, and having the tasting room as we mentioned. We hope that our space will be an inviting place for the growing community where we can love people well and help them to live life as we were meant to: full of hope and laughter and purpose.

The entire process of getting our permit was pretty interesting: lots of meetings with the health department and county, signatures from folks at the water department, fire department, and more, along with alerting neighbors of our plans and preparing our own site plan. Keep in mind that we were also doing all of this while working our full time jobs and taking care of our kiddo- so there were lots of late nights, lots of to do lists and meetings or phone conversations to fit in to tiny slots of time throughout our days. There were tears and arguments and lots of doubt and worries. But there were also lots of laughs and "What is happening!?" moments of awe and excitement. Our dream had the potential to turn into much more of a reality in a matter of months.

On September 11th, 2018, we attended a meeting where our permit was officially approved by a unanimous committee vote. People were able to come and voice any concerns they had and we were present to answer any questions. It was pretty surreal and exciting, and I remember sitting in my chair in my favorite blue dress, looking down and seeing my legs literally shaking at the weight of the moment. Along the way, it was fun to see all the little connections that God would bring to light, and the ways in which He would guide us along this sometimes scary path. Aaron and I went to dinner that night, bubbling with excitement and gratefulness, and in awe of all that had happened in the last nine months. We took a picture at home with our sweet baby boy, commemorating this special day. This was the official blessing to continue our plans- something that we hadn't made public yet because we knew that it had to be approved before we could proceed.

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Not too long ago, I was just a 22 year old girl in her first year of teaching, without a boyfriend, overwhelmed by my work, feeling pretty lonely and very unsure of myself in many ways. Things aren't all sunshine and roses these days, but boy, the Lord has sure been up to a lot in the seven years since then. I am reminded again and again that He is able to do IMMEASURABLY more than all I can ask or imagine. It doesn't always follow our ideal timeline, and we certainly aren't in control, but wow, friends- He keeps showing up in big ways. If you are in season of waiting, wishing, and hoping- feeling lonely, overwhelmed, or ready to throw in the towel- hang in there. God is at work, and He's going to knock your socks off with His good plans for you! In a world where so many things will fail us, His love never will. 💕🎉

A post shared by Kelsie Kleinmeyer | Blogger (@currentlykelsie) on Oct 3, 2018 at 7:41pm PDT

From there, we got things officially recorded with the county, and then worked to get building plans underway in order to apply for permits and get to work. We had gone back and forth about building our space first or building our home first, and we had also considered building some sort of space where we could live in part of it and use part of it for our original intended purpose: gathering people around a table for great food and conversation, giving them hope to live life full. It was (and still is) our biggest desire that people would see that a life lived with Jesus didn't have to be boring or less than a life without him: that it would literally be overflowing with a joy that was contagious.

In some areas, we made great and quick progress- getting our name settled on (more about that soon!), getting an LLC started, and continuing to dream of and pray about all that the Lord would do with our space. In other areas, we struggled. We were working to design this on our own with some help, but we kept feeling like we were hitting roadblocks here and there. It was easy to get caught up in a desire to hit a certain timeline and feel the pressure to get things done when the weather still permitted, but we had to let go and let things happen as they should: all in God's timing. This journey has been a process of letting go of the tiny bit of control I so desperately try to hold onto, and yet it has been freeing at the same time. There are so many things we would have done differently, and things that we would have probably regretted had we put our heads down and made decisions to leap into huge loans or proceed with architectural plans (that I would have likely changed my mind on). Instead, we took one little step after the next, trusting that seasons of waiting would pay off in the end, and that we would be led down the correct path. And boy, were we ever.


 In the midst of all the crazy planning and working, Aaron and I scheduled another little getaway, this time for January of 2019, and to a place we had never been. We continued to think and pray about our plans, feeling a little stuck but refusing to give up. An unexpected adventure and meeting lay ahead for us, and it all started with a little idea that kept making its way into our brains: a chapel. In conversations, in books, it just kept coming up. And so, with designs on my mind, I googled chapels.

We could have just gone and built one, and that, again, would have been a pretty great end to a pretty great story. But our story would continue to develop into something pretty incredible. Something almost unbelievable. Something much bigger than us.

To read part three of our story, click here! 

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Our New Adventure: Part One

It all started with a burrito wrap. Not the food kind, the spa kind. The end of 2017 was drawing near, and Aaron and I had jetted off on our first "kid-free" getaway to the Napa Valley area. Aaron had found a little mud bath spa day on Groupon, and the end of the treatment involved being in separate "burrito wraps" in the same little room. It was while we were there, cracking up about the entire strange experience, that everything started: an idea that would grow into a dream, which would grow into a hope, a reality, and a calling.

Becoming parents to the sweetest baby boy in February of 2017 had been the biggest blessing. But now that we had our son, Eli, we had needed to step away from the role in YoungLife that we'd previously held. With a tiny baby, and me going back to work full-time as a teacher in August, it just wasn't ideal to be away once a week until 10 pm, giving up evenings with our little one when it was already hard enough to force myself to leave him all day for work. To us, our marriage had always been about not only ourselves, but also loving others and serving them through some sort of ministry, so it had been a hard transition to walk away from YoungLife, but we knew that it was what was right for our family in this season. This left us wondering what our ministry should look like now. What was next? We'd loved YoungLife's ministry approach, and we fully believed in meeting people where they were, loving them, sharing the Gospel with them, and then continuing to love them regardless of their response. We began to talk more and more about times when people let faith into their lives, about how we could use this same approach to minister to adults. And so we landed on three main times when people let faith in: when they get married, when they have kids, and when someone passes away.

Out of these three, we were right in the heart of two of them- married and having a young child ourselves. But we both felt drawn to the idea of investing in marriage- that it matters, that it's a beautiful picture of the Gospel, and that it sets up a solid parenting approach later in life. So we thought about ways in which to pour into marriage- both for ourselves and for others. We thought about anniversary dinners, marriage retreats, and more. Maybe we could invite people for free meals and great conversation? One thing was for sure- we needed some sort of draw to give us the best opportunity to do this well- and we wanted to be able to do it on a bigger scale than just hosting people around our dinner table (although we're all about that too)! So we began to search for land, a place where we could turn this dream into a reality.

We'd always wanted to own a little bit of land. I grew up on three acres and I loved the way that it felt like we could breathe a little bit without reaching our hands out the window and shaking the hands of our neighbors. Aaron and I had looked for a while on and off without much success, but we still wanted a place we could call our own. And with this new dream of investing in marriage and hosting things more large scale, we decided we needed to look a little bit bigger- for something that could hold a house and some sort of space for these little events, along with a garage for Aaron. So we started looking for ten acres in the area. We cast our net far and wide, considering everything from Weston, Smithville, Platte City, and North Kansas City into possibly even Holt, Kearney, and Trimble. We hoped to be able to keep our jobs and still attend our church, but we wanted to keep our options open.

Land was coming and going so quickly that we weren't sure we would have any luck. But then Aaron drove by a property that looked pretty vacant, looked into county parcel maps, and found out who owned it- people who lived in California. In the midst of painting and remodeling our bedroom and bathroom, Aaron wrote a letter to the landowners, telling them our dream and letting them know of our hearts and goals for the land, asking them if they would be interested in selling. We stuck a leftover family photo in the letter for good measure and dropped it into the mail, praying over it and wishing for the best. And then we waited.

The next month came, and we still hadn't heard anything. If we didn't purchase land, we had discussed purchasing a property to rent out, or even buying a school bus and flipping into into a "schoolie" that could be rented out and used as a RV of sorts on vacation. But really, we thought we were being called to something more purposeful. We had just enough saved up to know that we were ready to invest in something, we just weren't sure what it would look like yet. We didn't think the land thing had just been our idea (instead of God's), but we also didn't know where or when it would happen at this point. Aaron and I went to lunch on our Professional Development day- a rare luxury where we were away from our 20 minutes lunches on the typical school day. We had been arguing about the schoolie thing for a while, but I remember that day finally telling Aaron that I was okay with it and giving him my blessing to take the next steps.

On the way home from school that day, I got a phone call from Aaron, telling me that I needed to call him right back. Honestly, I thought maybe something had fallen through with a job opening Aaron had applied for, and that maybe they were re-considering him for that position (which would have been at my school). I quickly dialed him right back, only to find out that someone had called him asking him if he was still interested in buying some land. The owners in California had gotten our letter, and as a result, they wanted to sell! Not only that, but they wanted to give us first dibs on making an offer- which was a dream when properties were moving on and off of Zillow in mere minutes. Was this really happening?

We drove out to see the property that afternoon. Aaron had seen it before, but I hadn't yet. It was a dream. Rolling hills, an incredible view, a pretty wooded area, and the best sunset I've ever laid eyes on. We had to try to think rationally about this major decision, but we also knew that we had to make an offer quickly or we would lose our chance and regret it forever. It just seemed so much bigger than ourselves- this gift of land and the opportunities it offered. It would take money, but money didn't matter so much anymore. So we took a leap of faith, made an offer, negotiated a bit, and settled on a fair price. A month later, we closed on 11.1 acres of our very own, just 15 minutes from our current home and still reasonably close to our work and church! We were on cloud nine, just dreaming of all that was to come.

If that were the end of the story, it would be a pretty great one in itself. But oh friends, that is just where the story begins...

To read part two of our story, click here! 

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The View from the Valley

Life is a series of pits and peaks, ups and downs, highs and lows. It's easy to go from the highest high to the lowest low in a matter of minutes, often forgetting the joy and goodness of the previous season- trading it in for the heartache and hurt of the present instead.

It is so hard not to be jealous of the peaks from the view in the pits. We view others at their best and compare them to us at our worst, and it's easy to let this make us jealous and negative. The woman celebrating her degree - you'll never know the hours she sacrificed, the sleep she lost, or the test she had to re-take three times to pass. Your friend who glows in her recent pregnancy announcement? You don't see the pain she felt every month for a whole year when that second little line didn't show up. That couple sharing the lovey dovey anniversary post that makes you feel even more single? You just don't see the years they waited to find one another, the failed relationships, the counseling, the things they've had to work through.

It's easy to forget the peaks behind us, and feel alone in the midst of our pits, because our society doesn't often share both sides with the world. We don't hop on to post an Instagram photo of us losing our cool with our kiddo or sitting in a long period of waiting, just hoping and praying that a new hill will rise up ahead of us, offering us relief. So it feels like we're the only one walking that path, when in reality there are so many trudging along that same road.

But in those moments, let's remember: celebrating someone else's "peak" with them does not make us any less likely to someday celebrate our own. Nor does it negate the hurt we may feel in our season in the "pit", looking up at the happy moments for others. We can feel both emotions, both pain and joy, at the same time and they can both be valid and real. They are.

So let's choose to build each other up. Let's choose to celebrate and also empathize: to feel joy and pain alongside those we live life with. Let's trust that, even when it seems like we'll be stuck in a valley forever, there is a hill up just ahead- good things waiting for us, better than we could have planned, if only we can hold on, trust just a little bit longer. And then, when we finally reach that peak, there will be people there along with us, celebrating, cheering, crying tears of joy knowing the ups and downs that have been there along the way. Then the valleys will fade as part of a beautiful struggle that led to this incredible end.

Currently,
Kelsie

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No Matter What

Putting Eli to bed is one of my sweetest joys. Every night, we cuddle up in his cozy gray chair, his soft blond hair resting against my chest as I hold him close, knowing that each day he's growing a little older and we're a little closer to the day he'll no longer fit into my lap. His finger inquisitively points out his favorite parts of the Paw Patrol and Mickey books for the millionth time, and I succumb to his pleas to read one more, and then another. I finally tear myself away, standing as my not so little baby wraps his arms around me, then reaching down to place him gently onto the fitted gray sheet where he's slept since his first week. I zip up his SleepSack as he pulls the neck of it up over his mouth, and the same blessing I say each night echos through the room. As the soft lamplight illuminates his grin and I marvel at how big he's getting, I hope and pray that my words would take root in his heart and mind, and that he would always know that he is so unconditionally loved: no matter what.

"You are prized and precious, liked and loved, chosen and cherished, blessed to be a blessing. You're a child of God, and a treasure in our family. Sleep in peace, new mercies in the morning. I love you so much, no matter what, and I always will." 

It's amazing how you can love someone so much that it doesn't phase you when you're cleaning blueberry vomit out of their hair at midnight, or holding them for an hour at 2 am, slowly rocking back and forth and and delighting in their milk drunk, sleepy smiles, forgetting how exhausted you are. And you expect absolutely nothing in return. Even when they grow up and throw a fit on the ground in the Target aisle, scream "NO" at you and crinkle their stubborn little face when you ask them to come put their shoes on, or chuck their steamed carrots haphazardly over the dining room carpet, there's nothing they could do to make you love them any more or any less than you do. Their behavior does not impact your love: it's a choice, and it's unconditional.

There's something about recognizing the basic and unmet needs of a child that makes you pause and give them more grace. For a good portion of their early life, they're helpless, depending on you fully for everything from diaper changes to their next meal. No loving parent would ever intentionally neglect their children in these areas, nor would they ever expect their child to contribute or "earn" their love in return. They don't always understand why we aren't giving them another cookie or letting them touch the hot stove, but we know it's really for their own good. Someday, when they're chasing their own kid around, they'll get it. And yet, even as a parent myself, the concept of true unconditional love is both obvious and foreign at times.

As someone who often mistakenly determines my own "worth" or "lovability" based upon my personal successes, sometimes it is easy to feel that I am failing in many ways and am therefore unlovable. That loving me unconditionally would be stupid of others, and that I have in fact earned less and need to strive to earn more. That my actions determine whether or not I can expect someone to accept me as I am. And because of this, I often blame myself for the hard times in life when they come, for the seasons of wait, the botched timelines, for the rejections or disappointments, rather than trusting in the greater plan. I sometimes take the absence of the things I may desire as a sign that I have messed up. A sign that I haven't done enough to "earn" the good things, and that I am somehow being "punished". It can be hard to grasp the Lord's unconditional, unearned love when we are stuck loving others around us conditionally- only if they earn it. If this person does this specific thing, then I'll love them. Or, if it's easy and comfortable, then I'll love them. Or even, if they're nice to me and their presence in my life doesn't make me feel threatened or less than, then I'll love them.

But that's not how God works. He does not love (or bless) us based upon our good works, our kindness, or what we've "earned". If that were the case, the only thing we would've earned at all was his judgment and eternal death for our sin. But instead, He died for us, taking on our sin, showing us immense grace, and loving us in the depths of our imperfections. Just like the loving father that He is, his intentions are to help us and not to harm us, even when it seems like he's withholding things from us. Even when we, as dependent, imperfect, and impatient children don't understand it, his timing is perfect, his plans are good, and He loves us regardless of our constant failures. I am thankful that we have a big God who chooses to constantly and unconditionally love us, no matter what.

Currently,
Kelsie

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One Fork at a Time

I stand there, bare feet touching the hardwood floor, exhausted from the day, yet finding my patience as he reaches in again and again. His fingers, still slightly sticky from the cookie he polished off at dinner, grasp the handles, one fork at a time, slowly handing me the clean dishes. I thank him each and every time, praising his hard work. His longing to be involved makes my heart melt. He looks from me to the silverware basket and back, a gleam in his blue eyes at the joy he feels from helping me accomplish this mindless task. To him, it's not a chore, it's a delight, and it's something he gets to be a part of with his mama.

There are moments of frustration for us both: the top rack, littered with Shakespeare's plastic cups and now clean ice cream bowls, is two inches too high for him to reach in and help unload. He's ready to shut the door long before we're done unloading, or when I still need to fill it up with a new round of dirty dishes covered in spaghetti sauce and leftover olive oil. To be honest, it would be way easier for me to just do it myself. There are less "two year old" battles to potentially fight, and I would undoubtedly be much more time efficient. Our sectional couch is calling my name and I'm worn and tired. But I see him learning, and growing, and reveling in the way I am including him. And that makes it more than worth my time, much more than any "relaxing" option may be, no matter how tempting This is Us and a mug of hot tea sounds.

 So I linger, and I'm patient, and I let him tell me about the bowl that holds his "goldfishies". I let him point out his bright blue cup, or work hard to get his tiny fork unjammed from the corner where it's caught. After some struggle, I help him break it lose, and thank him as he drops it from his palm into mine. I answer his sweet "What's that?" question about sixteen times, using the opportunity to strengthen his vocab and work on sentence structure, as only an English teacher can. And I marvel at the ways he's learning and at the way my heart could burst with pride and joy and overwhelming love for his sweet 28 pound self in this exact moment.

Sometimes I think this is the way that the Lord sees us, his children. How what we have to contribute is not necessary in order for him to accomplish his plans. How we are quite honestly probably a hindrance more than a help to him most of the time. And yet, He still includes us. He lets us a be a part, lets us have a role in the broad plans He has, in the beautiful story that He is writing and weaving together. A loving father, much bigger and greater and more patient than my selfish and broken "earthly mama self", a father who is not surprised by our frustrations along the way, our temper tantrum moments, or our inability to express our emotions at times.

And yet, he keeps showing up, opening the door, letting us a be a part of his tasks at hand. We are not the reason He accomplishes his works, it's quite the opposite: He accomplishes them in spite of us. And yet, I am so grateful that he lovingly takes the approach he does. It is such a gift to be a tiny part of his big, master plan. I am thankful for a loving, patient father who lets me get my hands in on things that point toward his glory: one grubby little hand, one tiny fork at a time.

Currently,
Kelsie

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My Word for 2019

Last year was my first year "choosing a word". I wasn't sure if it was just trendy, or something worth doing, but I am happy to report a year later that I am a huge fan of having a word of the year. Looking back on 2018, my word was "cultivate", and boy did it ring true! I found myself pruning and preparing for something new. I was forced to live in chaos at times, forced to be patient when I didn't want to be, all the while focusing on the beauty that lay ahead, promising to be worth it all. And so, that leads me to my word for 2019: listen.

I'm going to be real with you here: I'm not always a great listener. I often rush into trying to talk and process and solve the problem, but I don't always listen long enough first. I'm not proud of this, it indicates my faults: my desire to rush to share my own words rather than hear another's. That I am selfish at heart and that I feel like I can trust myself more than others, that I need to drone out their opinions or speak my piece. And I don't want that. Listening requires patience. It is an act of faith, of grace. It is loving and kind. I want to do a better job of listening to people's hearts, their hurts, their joys. I want to do a better job listening to my friends, and serving them in that way. I want to do a better job listening to my husband, and honoring him in that way. I want to be slower to speak and quicker to listen. Because listening, and truly hearing, prepares us to speak and act well.

A huge part of listening this year is continuing to seek God's will and listen to hear His direction. As I've alluded to lately, He has definitely been on the move in our lives in the last year. I feel like we have had all sorts of crazy things happen and all sorts of huge decisions present themselves, and it has been hard to make these decisions without feeling doubt here and there. Were we doing the right thing? Were we marching towards our dreams? And yet, we keep putting one foot behind the other, stepping out in faith and trusting that the Lord has far bigger plans for us as we seek to follow His will. (And friends, I'm so excited to share more about this in the coming months!)

It isn't like I can just call God up on the phone and hear His voice, so listening in this sense requires prayer, requires reading His word, requires laying down my own selfish ambitions and desires- separating my emotion and listening to where He is leading us, even if it's not necessarily somewhere I want to go. And it takes patience. It takes shutting off my own worries and shutting out the shouts of the world. I find peace in knowing that God listens too. That He hears my voice and my cries, and that He knows me better than I know myself. That He is willing to give grace to me and show me the love and kindness that I am often to hesitant to give others.

"My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry." - James 1:19 (NIV)

"But he said, 'Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!'” - Luke 11:28 (NIV)

So with that, I commit to striving to listen this year. To be slow to speak. To show others grace and kindness, to love them enough to hear them out, or even to just be there to listen without saying a single word in return. And I'm striving to listen to the Lord, now more than ever, as He takes us on this incredible journey.

Currently,
Kelsie

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