What's the point?

Some time ago, I found myself sitting around a table with a group of folks I love dearly. J was telling me how beautiful the church he had been to that weekend was. Under my breath, I said softly, "I should have gone." The woman sitting next to me, someone I respect and love, said quite curtly, "Why? What's the point?"

I sat there shocked. And just smiled and brushed it off. Because I didn't know how to respond. How do you respond to someone you love, who has such a visceral reaction to the church you love so much? I prayed silently for the words to come, but I remained dumbfounded. I couldn't find the words.

This is something I struggle with as my faith grows. I'm constantly bombarded with folks I love, friends and family and neighbors and the like, that don't get my faith. They don't understand the point. I've actually been told on a number of occasions that I'm too smart to believe in God.

What's the point? Why do I go to church? Why do I believe in God? In Jesus? Why am I having such a hard time with this if Jesus is supposed to make my life easy?

I'm not going to write a book on this, probably not even a good few paragraphs, but I feel it's important I put my thoughts down. As a people pleaser, I've grown weary of this burden I've placed on myself, to live in two worlds: one of believers, and one of those who just don't get the point.

I don't have the ability to look around this world and just see the science of it. I can't look at the miracles I see every day and not think of a higher power. I can't look at my kids as just a bunch of cells growing into little humans, and now their own unique selves and personalities, then think there isn't a being who hasn't planned these kiddos from the start. I have three close friends, THREE, who were told they'd never have biological children, that it was medically impossible. But they did. With no medical explanation. I can't help but think that these aren't coincidences, and I also can't help but think we're all here for something other than living, dying, and slowly deteriorating underground in the dirt. Why?

I believe in the Bible. I believe there are things about the Bible we don't understand. I can't answer questions related to dinosaurs and fossils created millions of years ago, but I believe that truth will come to light at some point in time, either in this life or the next. I know bad things happen in this world that are difficult, sometimes impossible to stomach, but that does not take away the one thing I am absolutely 100% positive about.

I have faith. Faith that I'm not the beginning and end of all of this. Faith in a Lord who has shown Himself as an earthly man who was Christ. And faith in a love so strong, so powerful, resulting in a death so that I could experience eternal life. No condemnation. No guilt. Love others as I love myself. Admit my faults and disastrous inconsistencies, and believe. Believe.

Is that so crazy? And why does it make me less than intelligent? Do I think my faith makes me better than others? No. Do I think my faith gives me an upper hand when it comes to matters of the heart? Not necesarily. Because I'm human, my faith is imperfect. I don't fully rely on God all the time because I'm unable to get over myself. But I get up the next day, and try again.

This is my point. This is what gets me through my day. This is what makes me want to be a better person, a better wife. Mother. Daughter. Friend. Neighbor. Fellow passer-by. And this is why I go to church.

I know some of you don't understand this. And that's ok. My only wish is that you see me for me. See my joy in Christ's love. See me as a seriously flawed and imperfect person, who just wants desperately to love other people as Christ loved each and every one of us.

Until next time,

Mrs. Kuda


Mr. Kuda

See the bottom of today's post for an easy Father's Day (or any day, really) craft! Mr. Kuda: DONT LOOK UNTIL YOU GET YOUR GIFTS!

A few nights ago, Mr. Kuda and I were talking about plans for Father's Day. I can't remember the specific details of the conversation, but basically he told me that, while he was happy to celebrate the holiday, he didn't see the point seeing as I (as the mom) do all the hard work.

Which was sweet. But kind of depressing.

Sure, I do all the scheduling, I make lunches and breakfasts. I'm usually the one to fix up a boo-boo and put the kiddos to bed. I know the ins and outs of our routine because I set it. Because that's what we chose.

You choose to do the hard thing. To move your family an hour an a half from work so we could have more space, more peace, a lesser mortgage, and better schools. You choose to get up at 3:45 every morning and choose to work your booty off to provide your family the life you think is best for them.

When I get weary and overwhelmed from the daily grind of raising the wee ones, you take over, despite having little sleep and your 3 hour-a-day commute. You help me to not take life too seriously, to see the lighter side, to change things up to keep life fun. And you cook dinner. Thank the good Lord you cook dinner (we'd otherwise be forever consuming chicken fingers and/or pasta).

Wouldn't it be awful for our kids if we were the same? If we both reinforced schedules and made laundry and keeping house our responsibility? What fun would that be? Maybe you don't see it, but I do. They do. They see you as this giant of a man who loves them unconditionally, who challenges them, and teaches them to do good in this world. You're teaching them adventure, the not-so-serious side of things (thank goodness for that), and most importantly, you are a strong father figure showing them the ways of the world.

We love you so much, and we are the luckiest family in the world to have you as our fearless leader!

xoxo, k.


A shout out to the other awesome dad in my life... My own! Love you, dad!

And here's the craft I promised!

Easy as pie, I promise! I had the kiddos paint their own design using acrylic paint using an 8x10 canvas board. Then, I adhered a favorite photo using Matte Modge Podge. I used a sponge brush to cover the entire project, then using a hot glue gun, I attached a ribbon at the top to hang. Voila!


What I'm Doing For My Summer Vacation

Y'all. It is our very first real summer in the Kuda household. Miss E finished up her first year of preschool, and starting today, Summer vacay is on!

In that, I'm finding all of these summer bucket lists, and then reading how we're ruining our children by not letting them run free. These are all in the same newsfeed as an article telling me how I should micromanage every single moment of summer to make sure it's the BEST. SUMMER. EVER.

Oy vey.

Being the Type A person that I am, I had even gone as far as preparing activities to do with each of the kiddos, by theme, switching them up every other week. Further, I had scoped out every free program, library class, and play date to keep ourselves busy through the summer months.

And then I regained my sanity and decided how we're going to do summer this year. And that's how I came up with...

Throw away the schedule.
Not like when we have quiet time or Mr C's nap. Or heck, I'm not really going to change bedtime. But you know what? The library class can wait. Miss E wakes up every morning, asks what day it is, then asks me, "What do we do on ____?" And the answer, aside from vacation weeks, has been the same each and every week day since September. The only things we will stick to as far as the kiddos are concerned are the classes we have already paid for, which will only go through June, and the two week-long camps Miss E is signed up for (and let's be honest, who wouldn't want to go to a Princess Ballet Camp? That's what I thought.). Not only am I throwing the schedule away, I'm throwing the ball into their court. That being said...

Try to say "yes" more. Yes to "Mommy can we have dessert for snack?" And Yes to, "Mommy can we paint with chalk?" And Yes to, "Mommy can we go on a car adventure?" I got that one the other day. Yes, honey, we can.

"Mommy, can we go for a walk in our pjs?
Read more books.
This Spring I ended up reading more books than I have in the past year. They were really good (Highs included Something other than God, Surviving Motherhood, and I jumped on the The Fault In Our Stars bandwagon. Worth the hype.), and I just feel like I'm starting to get my cognitive groove back after having E and C. A couple I have my eyes on are Dinner: A Love Story and What Alice Forgot. There are others, but I'm not making any lofty goals this summer. And that brings me to...

Don't make any lofty goals.
I have started umpteen crafty crafts for the new house, and none of them are complete. It's driving me bonkers. And while I do think there's something to said for a little list to help a girl get going (you'll see more of that on an upcoming post), I'm not going to fret this summer about them. Projects will get done, pictures will get hung, walls will be painted. Eventually.

Go outside. A lot.
I'm finding the more time we spend outside, the more time I get to see the kiddos do things they wouldn't necessarily do by themselves. Mini hikes in the woods behind the house, scavenger hunt for critters, etc. They pushed rocks in our driveway with miniature rakes for forty-five minutes this afternoon. FORTY-FIVE MINUTES. And later? Miss E told me her favorite time of today was playing with rocks with Mr. C. Go figure.

And there you have it. Nothing epic. Nothing earth-shattering. We will relax this summer, and leave the rigorous schedule for later.

Until next time,

Mrs. Kuda