When Actions and Passions Meet

Every week, a whole heap of fabulous women get together and bravely write for Five Minute Friday: five minutes of writing without thinking, without planning. Just the sweet written word through the clicks of the keys, or the pen on the page. Today's prompt is... Meet


You've been there (Oh, please tell me you've been there!), when you've been moving through the motions, but your actions and heart songs don't meet anywhere on the same playing field. And when this happens, when your life looks nothing like the passions resounding deep inside your soul, you wake up one day to find yourself floundering among the masses, unsure of how you got there and questioning how to return.

Returning to the basics almost makes you cry, because the "what I want to be when I grow up..." is such a distant and blurry memory, you hardly recognize the one you were so long ago.

But what if I told you this: that if you give yourself the chance to truly dig deep, to truly look around you, and to give yourself the chance, you could have those things. The things that make your heart pitta-pat and the things that make you move and sway, so your life begins to take shape in a way where actions meet your passions.

What if I told you it was directly related to obedience to your calling, and that the longer you ignore it, the more restless you feel: dangling on the edge of something mediocre, wondering when your life will mesh with your dreams?


May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you,
Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.
Psalm 19:14

Oh, #FMF how you tease! So thankful for this community of beautiful writers, following their pen each week, even when the words are slow to come. Hope you have a great weekend!

xoxo, k.


Locked Places (Five Minute Friday: Door)

Every week, a whole heap of fabulous women get together and bravely write for Five Minute Friday: five minutes of writing without thinking, without planning. Just the sweet written word through the clicks of the keys, or the pen on the page. Today's prompt is... Door


Initially the blackness of the room engulfed her, but as her eyes adjusted, the scene before her took shape: A room of many doors, of all different sizes and designs. And though she couldn't see beyond them, she knew if she stayed inside she'd be hidden there for eternity. Decidedly, she reached for the knob closest to her, but she knew as soon as she touched it: locked. Again and again, as she attempted each door in the circular room, panic rose to her throat.

I'm trapped. The breath of words barely passed through her lips. All the doors are locked.

Fear took over her heart, her mind.

But in her deepest despair, when the room was at its blackest, a breath of voice washed over her soul, while a white light began to pierce the darkened room.

Peace to you!

The voice ushered in, resounding through the curved walls, taking its stake among the doors. And it was at that moment the voice covered her with peace and perfect joy. Fear replaced by this Spirit, in which she received wholly and without question.
It's so easy to hide, in the locked places of our souls: contemplating our past hurts, our unknown identities... where it's quiet, and no one bothers us. But there is freedom in breaking away from these locked places, the places where we think no one could understand. Where no one could relate, or forgive, or assist.

The Enemy wants this: for us to be alone on our journey, to not seek out those around us. He wants us hidden behind these closed doors, covered in the darkness of solitude.

But God desires something different for our hearts. He desires for us a community of others in our lives, each person holding a key to each door of our hearts. He wants to wash us with His Holy Spirit, so we may rejoice amidst the suffering of this life. Hiding alone in the darkness does nothing but keep this gift out of arms reach.


Well, that may have taken me 8 minutes. Or ten. But who's counting really? ;) Hope y'all have a blessed weekend!

xoxo, k.


My Wrestling Place

I recently took a bit of a respite trip to a magical place where peace is woven in and out of the fibers of the walls. Where God resides in the hearts of all who enter, and where I rediscovered my life-giving gifts from our Father Almighty. Thank you for letting me reflect on those days in this space.

I'm not where I thought I would be.

Mother? Yes.

Wife? Yes.

Friend? Daughter? Neighbor? Yes. All of those things.

What I didn't expect was this floundering of my soul; this anticipation of being great, or accomplishing something amazing, and then waking up every morning to find that the earth hasn't shattered because of the accomplishments in my life. I didn't change the world today. Nobody noticed my completed tasks. Each morning the sun comes up, and I find myself on repeat. Nothing changed. Same routine.

And that's the problem: my childhood perceptions of what my life should be are so far from where I have ended up. It's not necessarily that I had some grand vision of what it would look like, but rather, what it would feel like.

Kristin Kuda. Mid-life crisis at the age of 34.

It comes down to feeling so small and insignificant in this world -- a world filled with evil and pain and heartache -- that I have such a hard time recognizing my worth. The enormity of these things take over, and those roles as mother, wife, friend, daughter? Well, they just don't seem as big...

Because the hillside I'm overlooking is grand, and the thunder of pouring rain consumes my every thought.  Our Holy Father is revealed in every living and breathing thing around me, and my enemy sneaks into the ripples of water coursing down the roof as he whispers, "You'll never be as significant as these things."

I believe him, because the monotony of my life feels like nothing close to the glorious sound of rain and birds and earth surrounding me. And right before I am wholly consumed by it all -- the nothingness and monotony and the insignificance -- a breeze blows from the West and I hear His call:

Peace be with you.
Peace be with you.

He says it twice because I didn't believe it the first time. He says it twice because I am but flesh and bone and broken and sinful. I believed the enemy when he told me I didn't matter, and I believed the enemy when he said my purpose wasn't God-breathed. And I believed Him when he told me my soul was impure and would never truly be forgiven.

But, God.

But God is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrong doing. (1 John 1:8-9)

But, God.

But God has made a covenant with us and has put His laws in our hearts, and has written them in our minds. (Heb 10:15-16)

But, God.

But God has given me a Spirit not of timidity, but of power, and of love, and of self-discipline. (2 Tim 1:7)

So, instead of feeling small, and unworthy and insignificant in this large, all consuming world, I will cling to the prayer Paul blessed upon us:

...that your love may increase ever more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, to discern what is of value, so that you may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes to you through Jesus Christ, for the glory and praise of God. (Phil 1:9-11)

Faith is a confidence in God that persists, even when the questions remain unanswered.

Faith trusts God even when circumstances seem to contradict His promises.

Faith rests firmly on the knowledge that God is faithful and His promises are True. God asks only for our obedience and faithfulness to assure our usefulness in our own period of history. In this, He gives us freedom to act on our life-giving gifts, freedom to see the beauty in the mundane, freedom to live our lives fully, regardless of our preconceived notions and idyllic plans.

I see now: the beauty of it all, the power of normal, and the beauty in routine.

xoxo, K.

Sharing with all the ladies on this Monday! Check out some beautiful writing here.
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