Change Gets Old

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Hello, dear friends. Where are we chatting tonight? Are you stretched out in bed, lazily flipping through your phone? Are you snuggled up in a soft sweater on a sofa, listening to the soft chatter of voices in the distance? Maybe if you’re super productive, you’re like me- sleepily hunched over a desk, munching on some chocolate under the warm light of a lamp, thinking how much you’re going to regret staying up as late as you did when you wake up tomorrow to the sound of your alarm and find new chocolate-caused acne when you look in the mirror and…. too real? Okay, I’ll stop.

This weekend the new students arrived. The eager faces. The jumpy hugs. The loud footsteps marching down the hall. The buzz of excitement that echoes off of every face, wall, and shiny new keurig. We’re back. So I’m a junior, and I just read my little blog post from Jan. 12th, 2017- right after I had finished my first semester of college. If you scroll down a bit you’ll find it- can’t you just hear the peppy freshman speaking as you read it? She speaks a million miles an hour, longing to live, and wishing she could see what great things Katarina the junior has accomplished. Lol, does getting really good at procrastinating count? Haha ;), if I could only tell her the things she would experience, I’m sure she would spontaneously combust. Two semesters of general chemistry, EduCamp counseling, becoming a Student Ambassador, counseling at the Wilds, the fruit fly project, mental breakdowns at 2 AM, Bruins games, film projects and editing labs, laughing so hard you snort and cry, soccer season, exploring downtown Greenville, Community Service Counsel, 5 million coffee shops, being consistently late and broke, boys. I’m halfway done with my college career. I’ve learned. I’ve changed. By God’s grace I’ll continue to learn and change. After this summer at The Wilds, I really didn’t want to come back to school. Since senior year of high school, I knew God was pulling my heart towards full time youth ministry. And as I’ve worked at camp in some capacity every summer since, I can feel that fire fanning larger. I know that Health Science is what I’m supposed to learn and study while I’m here, but I also know that if God opened the doors for me to do camp/youth ministry for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t even hesitate to go. And yet the summer came to a close. I came back to school. Partially out of commitment. Mostly out of obedience.

It’s another season of change. And change gets old real fast. New classes, friends, organization responsibilities, dorm life, and work schedules. Same nervous anticipation, same worn thin feeling. But greater than that- same God. And praise the Lord for that. I’ve been pondering Ecclesiastes 3 recently, and here’s what King Solomon says,

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.”

…and somehow all of these seasons happen in one semester, am I right? But then get this, Solomon makes a profound statement.

He has made everything beautiful in his time, also he has set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God makes from the beginning to the end.” v.11

All the changes are not pointless. All the positives and negatives do not equal zero. Because each of our days and seasons are ordained by God, it is he who makes them beautiful. And though, like this verse states, we don’t understand what God is doing- he has put the world (eternity) into all of our hearts so that we long to look past this life into another. We long to see the outcome of our lives. We long to make a lasting impact. But you know what’s cool? The Bible doesn’t end with a book about God’s people enjoying heaven, even though we will. The Bible ends the same way it began- with God making everything beautiful. The Bible is a book about God. Not about me. And isn’t he what life is all about anyway? He can do whatever he wants with my story because he is a God who is good and just and loves me.

All that to say: new semester, same open hands. I’m excited to learn. Excited to grow. And in another two years I’ll be able to look back and sing God’s greatness all the louder. Not to mention- I’ll be able to add many more college experiences to that growing list. This is where God has me today. And he has provided every step of the way.

I just wanted to share that little nugget that God has been laying on my heart with the arrival of a new school year and all the joys and sorrows that come with it. Praying always that God would be glorified. Love you all.

Grace and Peace,

Katarina

Summer Prayer Partner Letter 1

 

What has been probably the longest week of my life has finally come to a close! No, I’m not kidding. Staff Training week for The Wilds has been both fast paced and dreadfully long in parts, but it has been overall so amazing. When I imagined the things I would learn this week, I imagined many meetings about the camp schedule and about interacting with campers, interspersed by lots of free time to explore the surrounding mountains. But really, the reality was much more profitable. For one, it rained a LOT, which made us happy to be indoors listening to counseling sessions. In addition, I learned so much about God’s view of sin and our identity in him, which made me grow a ton. I got my hands of plenty of counseling resources (that have been beneficial to me too, haha!), I learned how to do in-depth studies of the Bible, and I spent lots of time praying for my campers, the full-time staff, incoming speakers, and for myself. I got to meet some very wise men and women who are on staff, and I met so many new friends that I know I will become so close with as the weeks progress!

Overall, I was really hit with the fact that I do not have all the answers to these camper’s struggles. And to be honest, that’s really terrifying for a perfectionist like myself. I want to know what to say. I want to know how to fix people. But I am not the Holy Spirit, and that is okay! My job this summer is not to change hearts, even when I think I can plainly see that they need changing. My job is to love the girls the Lord has handpicked to be in my cabin, and to point them to the Truth. That’s all. When I stop trying to be God (which is exhausting by the way. Never try it.), I am free to just be the simple image bearer that pleases my Father oh so much! This summer is all about bringing him glory in whatever way he chooses! Here is a verse that clung to my heart last summer when I counseled at a summer camp and has popped up again as being appropriate.

“For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.” -2 Corinthians 2:15

In one week alone, I will have campers who are seeking the Lord, and ones who want nothing to do with him. To both groups, my humble role is the same. To be the aroma of Christ to God. Isn’t that a beautiful word, “aroma”? I think so, especially as an avid connoisseur of all drinks warm and richly scented. There’s almost no greater feeling to me than the one that comes with being cozied up in a jersey blanket with a steaming cup between my hands. In fact, I am happily enjoying that same feeling as I write to you on this Sunday evening. So the fact that I myself can be that glorious feeling to my Father is such a vivid picture to me! Please continue to pray for me, in the apostle Paul’s words, “that I may open my mouth boldly to make known the mystery of the Gospel… that therein I may speak boldly as I ought to speak”.

I could not, without your steadfast prayers, take on this summer and the trials it will bring. So I thank you with all my heart and pray that next week’s letter will hold more of the Lord’s workings! I’m so excited to see what wonders he will accomplish for his kingdom!

Grace and Peace,

Katarina

The Little Things

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It’s often the little things each day that matter the most. The kisses from the Lord that write the most volumes.

I’m a fresh flowers girl through and through- there’s something so romantic and dainty and lovely about those blossoms that I just adore! So needless to say, I love when my Father’s kisses come through soft petals.

With my new season of change, Valentine’s Day is something I’ve been dreading. It’s a painful reminder of a love I still want and of the harsh truth in decisions I made. It’s a day that I normally love to dream about- but not so much this year. I just want to skip the whole thing entirely and forge new memories. And yet, the world doesn’t skip a beat just because I ask it to. Valentine’s Day will come and go whether I want it to or not.

This week has been anything but easy. I’ve felt love and blessing abundant during the long work days and endless homework nights, and I’ve felt sadness and loss plenty during the laughter-filled outbursts and warm celebratory embraces. Over all, my heart has been stretched thin- trying to grasp God’s promises and cling to them while constantly being bombarded with the stressors of this world.

Tonight as I began to pack up my things at work, I stepped into the office and noticed the flowers I had been eyeballing earlier still tucked untouched in the corner of a desk. They would surely be thrown out during the weekend, having long exceeded their value after the conclusion of an event earlier in the week. They wouldn’t be beautiful for long, I knew, and so after a moment’s hesitation I grabbed the bouquet and began the walk back to my dorm, bringing the soft petals over and over again to my nose and smelling their faint fragrance.

As I walked, a kind of happy sadness enveloped me. A kind of peaceful turmoil. I had been dreaming for weeks of receiving my beloved flowers for Valentine’s Day, but with all the changes these last few weeks, I knew I would go another holiday without them. And yet here I was, carrying a beautiful collection of roses (my favorite) exactly four days before the holiday. Perfect timing. A hot tear flooded my eye as I admired the blossoms in my hands and thanked my Father again and again.

He had given me flowers for Valentine’s Day.

Maybe to you that wouldn’t have seemed like much, but for me tonight- It meant the world. I already have a love- he’s waiting for me to come home- sometimes I just get distracted on the path to him.

Abba Father, you are the very one that I have been created for. I was crafted in my mother’s womb by the working of your skilled fingers, you designed me precisely the way you wanted, and you laid out a plan for my life long before I ever began to walk it. Every day I breathe is given to me to declare your glory and your power. You deserve my worship and my adoration regardless- but you’re so beautiful to have loved me long before I was ever lovely. Thank you for keeping me in the shelter of your wide wings, and for illuminating my path with your awesome word. You are all to me, and I love you.

Grace,

Katarina

Walking in the Garden

Oh what I would give for an early morning walk in the garden of Eden with my Lord. We’d walk among the grazing animals, with the orange sun casting low shadows on the long, smooth grass, and the cool mist still coming up from the bubbling streams. Even now, I can feel the cool ground under my toes. I imagine that we would walk together in silence for hours, the sunrise would be constant, and the world would stand still. There would be a heavy warmth enveloping me, and I would feel the Lord.

Oh, it would be wonderful. Just to walk with him, enjoying his beautiful handiwork, and resting in his sweet company. That’s what I was made for, after all. And after this life is over, that garden will be where you can find me. I’ll be smiling like an absolute fool, because I’ll be forever looking on my savior’s face.

I mean, how AWESOME is our God?! I love this line-

“And as you speak, a hundred billion galaxies are born. In the vapor of your breath the planets form. If the stars were made to worship, so will I. I can see your heart in everything you’ve made. Every burning star a signal fire of your grace. If creation sings your praises so will I.” -Hillsong

My goal this semester is to focus on the MAJESTY of our High King. I don’t deserve to be loved by him, considering the rebellion of my heart, and yet he still pulled me out of the dust and chased after me. Even now, he is not content with leaving me as I am. He consistently pursues me, bringing me back from the despair I bury myself in. He is the heartbeat of my existence, and I give him my open hands.

Last night, I was studying Chem and I flippantly pulled out a sheet that had been snuggly tucked away between pages of a chapter long past. Curious, I savored the words of my own script-y writing. It was a prayer that I had scribbled in the middle of a class, but read more like a conversation, and I immediately recognized it. I had been hurting and hiding, and God (unsurprisingly, praise the Lord) answered me. It’s pretty intimate, but here’s how it goes-

Holy Spirit: If God asked you to be single for this life, would you?

Me: …yes, Lord.

Him: Then let it go. Lean on me, Trust me to satisfy your need alone. Not for me to bring someone- just for me.

Me: Yes, Lord. But I’m weak…

Him: I am your strength and your portion. You don’t need to do anything. Just have faith. Love me. Get to know me.

Me: Yes, Lord. I want to know you. I want to know you with all my heart.

Him: I am not hidden from you. Come seek me and you will find me. You do not feel rest because you keep running from me. Come back.

Me: Yes, Lord. Give my weak heart strength to say no to my flesh.

Him: I will. If you stay in me. I have overcome the world and your flesh. I have a home waiting for you. Take my hand and walk with me.

How wonderful and (frankly) completely astounding that I can converse with my savior apart from the garden. This is messy life. I live in filth and shame. But GOD. His son forever intercedes for me. Amen.

Until that garden, here I am Lord.

Grace,

Katarina

About the feeling that comes when you realize you’re so much more infinitely loved than you ever knew. aka: R E S T

Summer vacation- it’s about rest. Sleeping in late and thinking little. For these precious moments, we long to fill the void in our hearts with the satisfaction of freedom to do as we please, see who we want, and shy away from school/work responsibilities. And yet. The hole is still pulsing, gaping in our hearts. The oozing desire for rest, true rest seeps out of every pore, every quick excuse, every long road trip to somewhere new. But what we search for is not anything that this world can offer. Laying on a beach- sand coated and toasty, lounging in a sunroom- kaleidoscope light filtering through foggy windows, laughing heartily within a group of close friends- voices overlapping in light tones. You’ll move on to the next town, you’ll go home to quiet, you’ll be disturbed out of silence, and the rest won’t remain. It will flee like the dew evaporates off young blades of grass under the piercing sun, and you’ll seek the next quick fix wherever it will come.

I know. Just as a I begin to wrap my fingers around tiny orbs of peace, they crumble to dust in my palms. I stare at the ashes slipping through the cracks in my hands, a tiny pang of discontentment growing in my mind until it reaches the void in my heart, throbbing uncomfortably. I would do anything to fix the want for peace, but I can’t find a key that will fit the hole.

Desperate searching sends me to the one place my flesh would rather not go. The one who the world rejected long ago. A bleeding lamb who stands at the foot of a crooked tree, weeping for me.

“Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” “How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Luke 19:42, Matthew 23:37

My rebellious heart recoils from an everlasting peace in the vain hope that it can sew itself back together on its own. want to be my own master. Yet the lamb still stands, awaiting all who would come seeking rest. With aching limbs I crawl to his feet, unsure of what I bring or who he claims to be. The longer I sit and listen, the more the void grows bigger in my chest, now spreading to the ends of my toes. I am vividly aware of a desperate need for a perfect fit, a sure relief from the heaviness my slavery to self brings. The lamb speaks right into my need, saying,

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” John 6:51, 10:11, 28

“Come,” he softly calls. Gazing upon the beauty of his face and the safety his presence grants, I do come. Oh, I come. Over and over again to that broken tree and the bloodstained hill, I come to see that lamb whose name is Jesus. Whose purpose is to seek and save the lost. The state of by brokenness is what draws me back to him. I show the lamb the hole in my heart and in turn he exposes his pierced hands, feet, and sides. “Look, Child,” he seems to say. “I paid for your brokenness already. Abide in me always and I will make you whole.”

Never did I experience rest before like that the lamb offers. Finally, I reach out tenderly and grasp this rest that remains. Yet I am still a slave to self, and I mourn over the knowledge of my capture to the Christ. “Lamb of God, I am presently and deeply a sinner, and though I wish it otherwise, I know that I will run from you again. Even after you have given me everything I could have ever desired here under this tree.” A sadness lingers. But he gazes on me with kindness, an understanding in his fathomless eyes that have beheld the dawn of the universe. I know then that he sees my slavery, and that his flesh has set me free. No matter how many times I will run, I will never be snatched away.

Summer vacation- it’s about rest. But there are only a few months before we get dragged away once more, and if we do not abide in Christ, we will never obtain the true rest that he offers. My Jesus died for me, his lost sheep, so that he could give me eternal life (eternal Christ). I will never outgrow that reality, and I will always find a way back to the peace under that crooked tree with my Savior.

Grace,

Katarina

 

M O U N T A I N S

I was never promised a life of mountains and beautiful scenery. I was never promised a life of luxury- one where every move I make would prosper and come to a beautiful conclusion. Often times on my walk with the Lord, I get so full of the mountain top experiences that the valleys hit me really hard. They come out of nowhere and I fall crashing to the ground. Desperately looking up with tears in my eyes and a heavy load on my heart, I ask God,

“Why, Father? I know you are always good, but this doesn’t feel very good right now. I don’t know where to go from here- I feel so lost and sorrowful. I shouldn’t feel unhappy, right? I’m always supposed to be joyful! This isn’t how your daughter is supposed to feel!”

And in those moments, God doesn’t always answer me. He doesn’t lay out his blueprints for my life and tell me how it all will work out in the end. I lay in sorrow and dust and wonder why I’m stuck in a valley. I heard a really good nugget of advice once; stop praying for God to change the circumstance, and instead pray for God to change your heart. When I am on the mountain tops, I must realize that it was nothing I did to get myself there. It was God’s grace to me. But when I stop remembering that I am not in control, and I have to cross the dark valleys unexpectedly, I struggle to remember that God is good in his sovereignty.

I struggle to remind myself that Jesus Christ is enough. He takes my hand in his gentle one and walks with me. I trust my broken heart to his scarred hands because I know that he is the God of healing and of hope. He alone is my treasure and the satisfaction of my soul; I need nothing else. In the valleys, all I can see are the bleak walls. But when I look up, I see the cross shining on a broken hill. That wretched place where my savior died and took the judgement of my soul so that I could be made right in him. He died so that I could know him and love him. Oh, my soul- you belong to the Father. You are loved.

“When faced with the heart-wrenching circumstances of life, the strength that sustains us only comes from the Lord. Without his help, we will grow weary and either give up or need rest when the battle rages on. . . Only when we find our strength in God can we finish the fight well. And when we do finish well, we will give God the glory only he alone deserves” -Whitney Capps

I was never promised happy times and mountain tops. But because of my Jesus, I am promised a savior to be with me always. I am satisfied.

Grace,

Katarina

w e a k n e s s

W E A K N E S S

“For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong… For he was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God.” 2 Corinthians 12:10, 13:4

Mentally, I often find it easier to accept the idea of hardships for the sake of Christ. It’s easier for me to wrap my mind around the idea that midterm stress, relationship calamities, and financial struggles are meant as an opportunity for me to grow with Christ. But to accept weakness– that requires me to die to my “I have it all together” mentality. And when I give that “strength” up, I am left with nothing. Yet that’s the version of me that God bought, and that’s my true self. I am weak and fragile. All of my strength is vanity- an illusion.

Dear Abba Father, I’m so sorry for pretending that I don’t need you. Often times, I’m so good at pretending that I start to believe it. My soul doesn’t want anything but you, and yet my flesh runs from you! In these quiet moments with you, I want nothing more than to be home with you. I want to spend my eternity just gazing upon your face, and I long for the day when nothing will distract me. You are always good in your pursuit of me. You are always faithful. The more I walk with you, the more I realize that I am nowhere close to comprehending you, but I am satisfied just being with you. I love you, Father.

Grace,

Katarina

DJ: Darling Jasper

Today, my roommate and I took a spontaneous trip to the Humane Society for rescued animals. We walked in at 30 minutes to closing, and quickly made our way back to the best room- the one with the puppies. Ah, my heart. Even though there was less than an hour left to be with the babies, the room was still packed. Mostly with squealing girls- no surprise there! We passed cages of puppies, making cooing sounds and using that obnoxiously high pitched voice that’s reserved only for babies, puppies, and obvious flirting. Are you imagining it right now? hehe.

Anyway, 10 minutes till closing we had made our way to the very last two cages stacked on top of each other. Already my heart was so full of mushy melted stuff. My roommate gasped at the top cage. Inside was a tiny two month old fluff ball with black fur, white tipped paws (like some one had just barely dipped them in paint), and a skinny white stripe down its nose. I scooped him out of the cage and he quickly made his way into her arms. And then I looked into the bottom cage. A curious handwritten sign hung on the bars. It said, “I am partially blind. Please be gentle with me.” Automatically my mushy heart froze. Blind?? I peered further into the cage and beheld a little black puppy no more than two months old. It wobbled around, clearly perplexed by all the grasping hands and strange smells. Nothing else lay in the cage except for two bowls and some dirty newspaper.

Side note: I get way too attached to animals, way too fast. I know it’s a problem. I am currently seeking help.

Of course, how could I not- I unlatched the cage and gently petted the baby. She had one eye with a slightly blue tint (maybe something like a cataract?) and another that was partially drooped. I immediately felt the cold dark hands of pity around my chest. What had she ever done to deserve this? People would probably pass her by because she was damaged. Unsettled, I put aside my pity and remembered- fallen world. She cautiously sniffed my hand, and then I gently scooped her out of her box. “DJ” was the name printed on the tag. Who names a girl puppy “DJ”??? Of course, I always assume the best about people. So she must be named “Darling Jasper” or something sweet. Right? Exactly. Well, as soon as I had her in my arms, I found an empty seat and proceeded to snuggle her soft fur. I was so afraid she would shatter in my arms. Not two minutes later, she had sunk down to sleep. I kissed her head and felt the soft fur under her teeny floppy ears. The sweet baby. Can you imagine? Well, lucky for us- my awesome roommate is also good for documenting events with pictures.You’re welcome.

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My Art & Science

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Honestly, this post was so close to being called College Chronicles. But what I want to write about is bigger than that. Between the time when I last wrote and now, I’ve gone to college. I’ve changed my major. I’ve discovered a few things about myself that I didn’t know. And I’ve seen God do some pretty cool things. Fix yourself a cup of steaming tea, get in your comfy chair with a fluffy blanket, dim the lights, and relax as I tell you some stories.

Last August, I hopped out of my van onto the sidewalk of a dorm somewhere around lunchtime. With eager anticipation, I grabbed my bags and rushed inside to behold a swarm of girls just as frantic as I felt. Up the stairs, I ran and crashed into my room, where my roommates waited with broad smiles. We embraced, as happy girls often do, and I proceeded to shove my parents out and on their way home. Not a single tear was shed. This was going to be the best year ever!

I could have never imagined what would follow. At student body gatherings, I saw alien faces everywhere. I felt so alone and small when I watched older students enthusiastically greet each other. Rush was nothing more than a crowd of hyped strangers in crazy colored tents. And on top of the business that a new year brought, I got a seriously unfortunate stomach bug the day before classes started that bedded me for almost three days! During those anxious afternoons, I hit the brick wall end of my self confidence. I missed my family. I missed my soft, cuddly dog. I missed my big bed in my quiet room. And I really missed getting hugs from my momma.  When I finally got all my class syllabi, a heavy cloud of stress and utter despair seemed to settle on me. How would I ever make it to finals week?

My cinema major classes were the highlight of my unending weeks. The family of students in the program made me feel so welcome. Picture in your mind a group of happy, artsy, Jesus loving young people, and that’s basically what I stepped into. I was constantly learning and being inspired. With film shoots practically every weekend, I was water-shocked into a brave new world. To understand, know that I had very minimal film experience before coming to campus. I have always loved photography, and I love studying films. But to say that I had no idea what kind of major and quite frankly lifestyle I was walking into is an understatement. The holidays arrived with much ceremony, and so did the doubt. Firstly, I didn’t think I measured up to the standards set before me in my major.  Telling stories is my absolute favorite thing to do, but my talents had always rested in telling them through writing and pencil sketches. Film was so foreign. And I saw that there was so much more to telling a story than the actual filming. There were the never ending technical skills that I just didn’t have the passion or patience for. Additionally, I started thinking about my future after college and what kind of lifestyle I’d be pursuing. What I imagined for my life was a bit simpler than all the craziness of contracts and film projects. So, after careful prayer and deliberation, I changed my major to something I’m just as fascinated with- Health Science. Does that seem like it came out of nowhere? Don’t worry, you won’t be the only one who thinks so. But the two majors aren’t that different for me, and i’ll tell you why.

I’m an artist, and there’s a certain art to science. All the anatomy, biology, and even geology are forms of art. Maybe if you’re like me (or a fellow INFJ-we tend to be weird this way), you have already discovered this to be true. All of creation tells a story- the proclamation of the majesty of God. Science tries to study that story by analyzing its parts and pieces. Of course, there have been incorrect theories. Yet as a whole, scientists study the why and how of God’s beautiful creations. In doing so, we get a glimpse into the spectacular and mind-boggling nature and design of God. Film is the same. We capture the many faceted design of God’s most beautiful creations. That’s us- his people. As film geeks, we study people and all their deepest emotions that make them unique. Because we are all created special, we are capable of telling incredible stories of redemption, freedom, and salvation. As filmmakers, we are scientists who study the whys and hows of humans. If you will sit and ponder the two that seem so opposite, you’ll find that art and science aren’t all that different. The main separation is the art that we study. Most scientists are artists, and almost all artists are scientists.

While I was coming to these realizations, I discovered more of who I am. I am an artistic scientist. But more importantly than my career path is my duty to love those who God brings to me, and to love my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. All the nights in my dorm when I felt sad and confused, stressed and burdened, Jesus sat right there with me. The day I changed my major and cried on the bridge, not sure I’d done the right thing, Jesus stood close to me and embraced me. When I worked many long days on an english paper just to be rejected a grade outright for struggling with the printer and being late, Jesus knew how much I hurt. He saw me as I read his words over omelets at breakfast. He was constantly faithful as I sought out a new church, and tried to connect with new friends. And somehow he brought me through finals week. When I look back on his great compassion for me, I cannot comprehend his love. How is it so strong for me that I can never run from him? Why would he ever love me enough to chase me over and over again? I am unfaithful, but he is good. No matter where my life takes me, I hope to learn one thing over again. That only Christ satisfies. He is my life and my all. In him I trust.

I hope my stories were encouraging to you- wherever you are right now. God uses broken people. He will love you endlessly.

Grace,

Katarina

 

What “The Chronicles of Narnia” Taught Me

I’ll just start by saying- Welcome Back! I haven’t been active on my blog for a while, and it definitely feels good to be back at the keys. So today I wanted to journey back in time to my childhood and pull out one of my very best memories. The Chronicles of Narnia. I seriously cannot even begin to tell you how many times I watched these movies and read the books. Such classic tales with great stories. I’m a big C.S. Lewis fan, but the movies actually had a larger influence on me as a child. In fact, these movies began my love for all things film and actually set the roots for what I am pursing in college- Cinema Production! (I’m sure I’ll write more about it in the future) So yes, I love these movies.

I want to dig deeper into what The Chronicles of Narnia taught me as a child and what they continue to teach me now. So, in anticipation for those posts, I’ll leave you with the above clip of Prince Caspian ft. the song that gives me feels; The Call by Regina Spektor. Enjoy! I’ll be writing y’all shortly!

God Bless,

Katarina, xoxo