I Love My Husband. Right?

I spent the evening at my friends' house last night. They no longer go to my church because they now are serving on staff at a new church nearby, but we didn't want to end our small group time - aka, get coffee, eat cookies, and fill everyone in on what's happened since we last saw each other. Considering we haven't since before finals started in December, there was quite a lot to fill people in on. I talked about going to Passion in Atlanta, Georgia last week and how incredible that was, my friend BDubs talked about her life, and my friend Danetta talked - a little - about her life, until she was forcibly removed into the car to leave.
Before we sat down and actually started talking, coffee was necessary. I blame Angela for getting me hooked on coffee in the first place - I never drank it before I was her friend, and now I drink it (if it's more creamer than coffee...) all the time. She brewed me up a cup of gingerbread coffee (delish) and handed me the mug - which is when I started laughing. Sarcastically laughing of course, because this is what I do. Why? Angela had given me this cup:

I love my husband.

Now, obviously, everyone in the house started laughing. The thought of Kimber having a cup that said something that related to A) a relationship, B) a male, and C) Kimber being in a relationship with a male naturally leads to something comical and cat related being said within the next few minutes. (It happened. 30 seconds.) 

After I got home, I started laughing again at the picture. But then I got to thinking - do I really love my husband?

Yes, I don't know him. Or, if I do, I don't know what guy he is. (If I know you and you have an idea, feel free to share the news anytime. Seriously. Like now.) (Right now.) I've been single for a year now, and haven't gone on a real date or had anything serious during that entire time. Sure, I had some feelings for one or two guys but God shut those doors in my face both times - and I'm thankful now that He did. Those are two less doors I have to face until I find my husband.

I remember going to some sort of youth convention - Silver Ring Thing, maybe - where they were selling shirts that said something like "I love my husband - and I haven't even met him yet." That's so true. After thinking of all this, and realizing what I just shared, it hit me - I guess I really do love my husband.

Jeremiah 29:11. One of the easiest verses to remember in the Bible - coincidentally, it's one of the most used and most shared. God has a plan for us, a plan to give us hope. A plan to give us a future. Hopefully, in my future is a husband and not a life filled with cats. (Do I sound bitter yet?) Until I meet him, then I'll be here, loving him right where I am.

I don't really like New Year's Resolutions, but I guess this could count as more of a prayer than a resolution. I'm promising my future husband to let this year be his, and His. I'm not gonna focus on looking for my husband this year. I'm going to let God put him in my life, whenever He feels is best. I'll have to work on my patience - a lot - but it'll happen. I hope.

But what if it doesn't? Then I'll still be here, loving my husband. Except this time, if it's not a real guy on earth, then I'll be waiting for a heavenly husband. God says that the church - us - is His beautiful bride, and He dotes on us like a bridegroom does on His wedding day. Maybe I won't wear the wedding dress during my life on earth. If I don't? Oh well. I'm not too concerned. I'll be wearing mine in heaven as I meet the one man who loves me more than any person on earth ever could, anyway - Jesus.

Are you like me, waiting for your significant other to be placed in your life by God, complete with a flashing neon lit sign? Are you getting lonely and wishing for that relationship with another person? If you are, don't give up. God knows whats best for you. If He has someone out there for you, they'll come when He wants them to, and not a minute before. If He doesn't? Then get ready for a life filled with adventure with God, complete with a life in heaven with Him. Either way, it'll be awesome. Just trust Him. He knows what He's doing. Just sit back, grab your Bible and some coffee (and a great mug) and dive into His promises. Who knows what will happen in the adventurous life that God has planned for you?

Are you in?

-Kimber.

Get on my Level.

"Get on my level." One of the best taunts in the world - at least, for my generation. I've heard my brother say it a million times as he plays Call of Duty or some sport or another. Friends of mine have said it to tease each other about something. It's in the media, with celebrities endorsing a product or advertising a game or whatever they're doing nowadays. If you do a Google image search for it, you receive 4,130,000,000 in 0.27 seconds. (At least, that's what Google tells me.) 
So what does it mean? Well, obviously, you have to get on that person's level. They're different than you - in a better way than you are. You're below them. When someone tells you to 'get on their level' in a sport, then you aren't playing as well as they are. If you hear it in the media, then that person is telling you you aren't as successful as they are. It's a taunt.A joke. A ridicule. 
What if it was a good thing, though?
In John 8, we read of a woman who was caught in the act of adultery. Like, literally. Some creeps were watching her and a man who was not her husband, and turned them in. The man got away - unfortunately for her, this was common and allowed in those times - leaving her to face the punishments. The Pharisees and scribes have this woman in the town square, waiting her punishment. To be caught in a sin such as this was punishable by being stoned to death, and the townspeople were probably already raring to go, stones in hand. 
The Pharisees, however, see an opportunity to try and trap Jesus - something they were good at attempting, but never successful at. They grab the woman and fling her down at his feet in the center of the crowd that was almost certainly gathered around by then. Starting in verse 4, we read this:

"They (the Pharisees) said to Him, 'Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?'"

This woman probably had nothing on, maybe a sheet to cover herself with if she was lucky. Already her embarrassment and emotions are high - she woke up that morning to just another day, with a chance to meet with the man she would be caught with somewhere in the plans for the day. Now she is laying practically naked on the hard ground in front of Jesus, a respected teacher, and surrounded by Pharisees and members of the town. This was not going well for her. She expected the worst to come from Jesus, a judgement fitting of a respected teacher and a follower of the Law of Moses. She probably braced herself for the words along with the stones that would surely follow.
Imagine her surprise, then, as Jesus does something completely unexpected. He doesn't condemn her. He doesn't ridicule her or add to her embarrassment and fear. Instead, He does something completely unprecedented. 
He gets on her level.
Jesus literally kneels down to the dirt next to the woman and begins writing in the dirt. Put yourself in the eyes of those who were there: 
The crowd was probably shocked - what is He doing? Why is He doing that? Does He even have an answer?
The Pharisees were probably confused, and some may have been angry - who does He think He is? He shouldn't be writing, he should be agreeing with us. What is He doing?
The woman was probably the most shocked out of all of them. What is He doing next to me? The others don't want anything to do with me other than to kill me for what I've done. I've made a mistake, and I have to pay for it. So what is taking Him so long to tell them to kill me?
Let's pick up in verse 7:

"And as they continued to ask Him, He stood up and said to them, 'Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.' And once more He bent down and wrote on the ground."

So let's review: an adulterous woman is brought before Jesus for judgement. Instead of condemning, He gets on her level not once, but twice, and then tells those so quick to throw a stone that whoever is on a different level and hasn't sinned can throw the first stone. 
Well then.
The story concludes with the people crowded around slowly dropping their stones as they realize the weight of Jesus' words far outweighs the weight of whatever they're holding. Eventually, no one is left but Jesus and the woman. She had to be confused out of her mind, trying to make sense out of the crazy scene that had just happened. Jesus stands up and asks, "Where are they? Has no one condemned you?" She tells Him that no, there's no one left. This is what He says:

"And Jesus said, 'Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.'" v. 11

Jesus has made a tremendous impact in the time it took for this story to happen. First, He gets down on the level of an adulterous woman - one of the lowliest people in those days. Second, He tells the crowd to reevaluate their lives before impacting this woman's life. Third, He gets BACK down on the ground near the woman. Then, He gets up, shakes off the dust, and shows how no one is left to condemn the woman, and that He doesn't, either.
There are some major lessons that can be learned from this.
When Jesus shows the woman how everyone has gone, He's showing her who really matters in this situation - just the two of them. The woman doesn't need to have everyone judge her based on her sins. If this was what needed to happen, all of us would last about a week before someone would stone us to death based on our sins. Instead, it's just the woman and Jesus. The only two that matter. Once the matter is taken care of - the woman asks for forgiveness, she sees His love her for, and really doesn't want to do it again - then it's over with. Finished. It doesn't need to be dealt with with other people. They may judge, but who really cares? Her sin, and ours, is only between us and God. Only He can fix us. Why should we make other people try?
Jesus got down on her level - not in the way we see it now, but on a completely opposite way. He was perfect - He did literally nothing wrong His entire life, and here He is getting down in the dirt with an adulteress. He's reaching below His level to someone who is and never can be as good as Him. And He does it twice. Jesus does this and is willing to do this every day. He wants a relationship with us - He doesn't want us to think that He is so far away and unreachable just because He is perfect and holy. While He is those things, Jesus is still right there. He loves us enough to go down to our levels - our sad, sinful levels - and reach out to us there. And He's willing to do it again - not just twice, like with this woman, but as many times as it takes until we get the picture and see His love.
Your NR challenge for this post is this: what level are you putting Jesus on? What level are you on? Do you think that He is unreachable? Do you need Him to bend down and look you in the eye to see His love for you, so He can rescue you from wherever you are? Or are you afraid of the judgement of others, even if you know it doesn't matter? Know this: whatever you've done, whatever you'll do, whatever you've been and whatever you are, God loves you. God cares about you. He's right here, on your level. Will you look up and see Him?
Are you in?

-Kimber.

Cats for Christ

My name is Kimber, and I am a future cat lady.
There. I've said it. No going back now.
Because I got out of my last relationship almost 9 months ago, (wow.) my friends have been asking when I'm going to jump back into the dating pool again. It's gotten to the point where my brother has essentially coined a new phrase in our household - "You're 20 and single."
Thanks, Jamin.

Seriously though, I AM 20 and single. My friends are telling me I'm going to be the crazy cat lady. You know, the one who lives alone in her 4 room house or apartment with 45 cats as company. This, according to everyone in my entire life ever, is my future.
Love you too, guys.
Recently, though, I've been thinking a lot about this whole thing - not the cats, because honestly I am not a fan of cats. (Can't I be the dog lady? Seriously?) Rather, I've been thinking about my future and the relationships I'm going to have.
I posted a while back about My Giant; the man God will (hopefully) place into my life one day who will be my spiritual leader, the third strand in the unbreakable cord of God, My Giant, and myself. Considering my friends are already counting him out, I figure I have to give him a fighting chance. Either that, or resolve myself to a future of felines. 

Not cool.
Without being negative though, what if he doesn't come? What if God would rather claim all of me for Himself, for my entire life? Would it be lonely? Sure - we are, as humans, made to crave companionship, love, and acceptance by other people. Cats can't really fill that void, but if God wanted them to - could they? If He wanted them to, then yes - they will.
Philippians is my absolute favorite book of the Bible. In four short chapters, Paul lays it all out to you straight - no nonsense, just short, sweet, and to the point. I love that. This is what he says in chapter 4, verse 10-13:

"I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."

How incredible is that? Paul, who was faced with incredible struggles and trials - from being in jail, to almost being killed - says how he is content in every situation. Paul was cool to sit in jail, and he didn't complain at all. And here I am, in 2012 - whining because I can't find my Mr. Right yet and may have to live with cats?
Pretty pathetic.
While it never says outright in the Bible whether Paul was married or not, one can kind of surmise that he was or was close to getting married. He says in 1 Corinthians that "it's better to get married than to burn with passion" (so it's that kind of party), but he also says that he "has the gift of celibacy." (Not as fun a party.) Whether he was married or not, Paul left all of that behind to focus on God. Imagine that - if he was married, either his wife passed away or he decided to leave her behind to focus on furthering the Gospel. If he wasn't married, then he was nearing a potential marriage before he decided to leave his old life and convert to Christianity. He had it all, or was nearing a point where everything was going to happen - and then he left it. 
And. Was. Content.
That's incredible.
Will I still grumble and complain sometimes about not finding a boyfriend or a potential giant? Possibly. (Probably.) Will I be totally content with the fact that I may be a cat lady in my friends' eyes forever? No. 
But, before I find My Giant - if God decides to place him in my life - then I will learn to be content. I'll take this time to grow closer to the One who wants all of me before He can even consider sharing a tiny part of me with a husband. Or cat.
(Please, please, let it be a husband.)
Your NR challenge is this: Are you single and ready to find someone? Then stop looking. Be content. Take a step back and place your life in God's hands. Walk with Him, and next thing you know, you'll see that special someone right in front of you. 
If God doesn't have someone for you? It's okay. Be content. Know that God wants all of you for Himself, and devote everything you have and all you are to being His and knowing Him better.
And get a cat.
Are you in?

-Kimber.

My Giant

My giant:

won't mind that my best friends are the ones I go to all of the time.

won't worry if I don't check up every hour with him.

won't be jealous if I talk to people without asking him first.

won't mind that I stick my feet in between his ankles if we're sitting together.

won't laugh - much - that I have the appetite of a teenage boy.

won't laugh - much - that all I tend to eat is chicken.

won't care that I sing and hum in the car - loudly.

won't mind me blasting the bass in my car on a good song.

won't be bothered by calling me goodnight every night.

won't be ashamed to talk to me in front of his friends.

won't be scared of me and all of my antics. 

won't be intimidated by my faith.

My giant:

will love God first and foremost.

will understand that I need to place God first in our relationship.

will hold my hand, always.

will help me and guide me in my walk with Christ.

will watch stupid movies like The Notebook with me.

will watch awesome movies like The Avengers with me.

will be a solid leader for our relationship.

will read the Bible with me and enjoy talking about it.

will sing with me in the car.

will play football with me when we feel like it.

will tell me how he's doing in his faith, every day.

will be there for me through everything, encouraging, loving, and supporting me every step of the way.

It's a daunting list.

He's out there somewhere, though,

with a list that looks like mine

waiting for me.

My giant:

the man God is waiting to place in my life at the perfect time, to let me be with forever and always.

This time, I will not lose.

Today I resolve to change.

Today I resolve to become a new me,

a new creation.

Time and time again I've said this same promise,

spoken these same words

with the same sincere heart.

And time and time again, 

I've had to be forgiven,

seventy times seven,

but it's okay. You say it's okay.

So I will listen.

This time, I will not let You down.

This time, I will not lose.

Today I resolve to change.

Today I resolve to live out Your word, Your promise to me:

Your daughter, Your beloved princess.

This time, I accept that I will face challenges.

Adversity is not something new to me. It has taken me down, defeated me in the past.

This time, I will not accept defeat.

This time, I will turn to my side and realize You are there.

This time, I will let You fight my battles, instead of trying to myself.

I am no David, armed with stones. I am no Deborah, ready to face an army.

I am simply a small girl, waiting for Her Father to help. You are there, waiting for me to ask.

So I will ask.

This time, I will not lose.

Today I resolve to change. 

Today I resolve to start anew, beginning a new page in my life.

Clean slate, wiped empty and fresh by His blood, His tears, 

His scarred hands taking the blame from mine.

This time, I will make something beautiful out of my scars.

This time, I will recognize Your plan for me,

and stop trying to write my own story.

My slate is clean, but only You can write the words that fill my pages.

So I will watch. I will wait. 

I will read and view as my story becomes one of the most beautiful love tales of all time,

written by the One who loves me most.

There is no second best here, no unhappy endings. No one can have a better story than mine, because mine is just for me. No one can compete with it.

This time, I will not lose.

Scars

They say all scars tell a story.

They say all scars tell a story,
and that every story is meant to be heard.
By why mine? Why my scars?
The hurt is too private, 
no one would understand.


They say all scars tell a story,
but it's not one I want to tell.
You wouldn't understand.
My scars are too deep to bring to light,
they're the ones I am ashamed of, 
scared of.


They say all scars tell a story,
but who would want to listen?
My story is hard to say,
it hurts,
it's painful,
keep it inside.
My scars are mine alone.


They say all scars tell a story
but are mine really the worst?
There are stories far more important to tell
of love 
and redemption,
of sacrifice.
My perfect lamb, His palms, marred by my scars, my secrets,
those I tried to hide, 
the worst of me
on display for His majesty.


They say all scars tell a story,
the perfect story of love,
of faith, of surrender.
My scars are private, painful,
but they speak of surrender, 
of peace,
of coming
back
home.


They say all scars tell a story,
and mine is calling out to be told.
My Savior touching the scars,
making them whole.
Perfect, 
untouched, 
a beautiful testimony
to Him and His story.


They say all scars tell a story.
Mine have a matching set.
The palms of His hands and the depths of my heart,
together they form a beautiful love,
a beautiful surrender.
Only He can complete my story.


They say all scars tell a story.
They're all waiting to be told.
Listen to your scars,
what are they saying to you?

My Story, Part 2.

I'm eighteen. As a typical eighteen year old girl, I spend a ton of time on Facebook. I blog. I eat whatever I can and most of it isn't healthy. I run, even though I don't particularly like to. I actually started tanning this week. I like guys - a particular guy, but anyone who has been around in the past two years already knows this. I love hanging out with my friends, including my best friends, the wives. I love dancing and singing to my iPod, although I know there are people who wish I wouldn't. I fight with my siblings. I go to school. I spend some more time on Facebook. I text. 
I also struggle with a little thing called self confidence. Unfortunately, this is something that is typical nowadays for teenagers. When I was little, I had the typical innocent baby fat. Most kids do. However, as I got older, it refused to go away. It didn't help any that I hated going outside, ("House Mouse" was my nickname) and I wasn't very good at sports - oh, I tried; I had ballet, softball, baseball, tee ball, and soccer - but I didn't like any of it other than soccer, and that became too hard to manage as my siblings and I got older. So I just chilled inside and read my books and was as boring as all getup. 
I was never huge, but about the time I entered high school - ninth grade - I started feeling pretty bad about myself. I still looked like I did when I was a baby, but just a few feet taller (seriously, just a few. Short. Short. Short.) It made me so upset. Nothing I could do could make that go away! On top of that came the beautiful time of life known as puberty. It was going around in my grade faster than a rumor, and everyone was changing. I hated it. My face was breaking out, I was always gross feeling, and I was still chubby! Ick, ick, ick!
I hated myself. All of the people who had once told me I was a beautiful little girl disappeared into the woodwork. Guys didn't like me - well, one did, but that's for another post. My friends were gorgeous compared to me - they had perfect makeup, and the coolest clothes, and were skinny, skinny, skinny. I didn't wear makeup. A perfect outfit to me was a basketball tee and my favorite pair of jeans with some Sneakers. I didn't even start carrying a purse until the eighth grade, for goodness sake! It seemed like one day we were all relaxing on the kickball field in fifth grade at the top of the world, and now we were in high school, and I was a freak. It got so bad that for a while, I convinced myself not to eat. I allowed myself the minimum amount of food possible to get by. No one noticed, I thought, because no one cared. Sure, I lost a few pounds. After a while, I realized what I was doing and tried to start eating normally again. It didn't work. My body was so used  to eating that little amount of food that I would get sick if I ate more. 
So, let's summarize here. Here I am, a chubby little high schooler, who felt like she had no friends, no looks, and felt like she was a million pounds. Worthless. 
Enter God. 
Sometime after junior year - past my awkward tenth grade phase and the horror that was my junior year of high school - I was sitting in my room, waiting for the beauty that is Whitehall summer youth camp. I had only been there once, and it was in third grade. I hated it; I was the picture of the pathetic little homesick girl. In fourth grade I was there for one day and had to have my dad take me home hours after signing me up. Sad, yeah. But anyway, here I am getting ready for this camp. I'm thinking, "Alright God. You've taken me for quite a ride these past few months. I'm single for the first time in a year and a half, I feel completely worthless, and I have absolutely 0% self confidence or self esteem or anything positive about myself. If you really want to help me out, show me something at Whitehall. Anything."
(Just a quick note here: If you ever say anything like that to God, prepare to get your mind blown. As in, Him showing you something and as soon as you realize it feeling like you just got Bible thumped across the face.)
Long story short, at Whitehall something amazing happened. I met people that I had always known - people in my church that I had seen every week twice a week but didn't really talk to, girls and guys that I had sat next to in youth but didn't talk to because I was shy - that quickly became some of the best people in my life. (Shout out to the wives!) These people understood me, understood what I was going through and did stuff to help me. They made me feel like I was worth something to them. And, of course, you can't forget about the guy that I met. He didn't realize it at the time, but when we met, I was a pretty broken girl. Those people  that I met and had already known that showed that they cared, added with the somewhat awkward and creepy constant following of the guy who already thought I was great, made me feel amazing. Almost whole again.
However, that part was God's job, and boy oh boy did He do it well. God spoke to me that week at camp. He told me how I was His original masterpiece; that He knew me before I was even formed; and, most importantly, He died on the cross for...me. Broken, hurting, doubtful little me. As He was on the cross, I came across His mind and He smiled, knowing that I was worth it.
I was worth it. 
It's been almost two years since then, and I haven't forgotten this. Sure, there are bad days - when my hair is awful (which it normally is,) my face breaks out, nothing looks good on me or I can't fit into something anymore - but the bad days don't hurt like they used to. I've learned to love who I am; it's been a slow process, but I'm getting there. This is the first year that I could wear a bikini and not feel like I should have a shirt and shorts over top of it. I lay in my back yard and tan, and don't feel self conscious. I'm not the skinniest thing, and I know I probably never will be. As long as I take care of myself, though, I know that I'll grow to love who I am. And even when I do have those bad days, sure, I want to cry my eyes out! But I know that there are people out there who are going through the same thing that I am, and that there are people that love me regardless if my shirt doesn't look good on me, or if my hair is so frizzy it's pointing three feet from my head. Above all, I know that God loves me for who I am, and that He made me this way. It may be a sick sense of humor in my eyes, considering the frizzy, messy hair; the slightly round, short, and stubby figure; face that occasionally breaks out and the smile that may not be blindingly white, but to Him, I'm an original masterpiece. His creation. He wanted me this way, and so that's how I am. Beautiful.
Your NR challenge for this post is this - realize your beauty. Realize that God formed you and wanted you a specific way, and so that's how you are. Realize that Jesus thought of YOU as he was on the cross, and He made the greatest sacrifice for you.  Lastly, remember this: beauty doesn't last. Clothes fall out of style or fade. Weight comes and goes and it always will. However, true beauty and self confidence comes from knowing God's love.

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart. - Helen Keller

 Are you in?


-Kimber.

My Story, Part 1.

Have you ever sat down and thought, "What if I had done this?" "What if this was done differently?" "What would have happened if I would have only changed this, thought this, wore this, said this?" Everyone has. It's a part of life, a common human trait that makes us all stop and think, "What if?" What if I wore the clothes they're wearing, would they like me? What if I lifted more, would I make the team? What if I stood up for myself, would the bullying stop? What if I told someone this secret, would it make me feel better?

To us, these questions may be important. After all, it's part of being human to want to fit in, to want to be well-liked and accepted. Popularity never hurt anyone, either, and so these questions make us think of what we could have done in the past to better our future.
We shouldn't think like that. I have, I'll be the first to admit it - and it sucks, to put it simply. Only, my "What if?" was a different sort.
What if I hadn't played the part of a Christian? What if I had lived what I believed? What would have happened then?
One of my favorite worship songs is Matthew West's "Going Through the Motions." The lyrics of the chorus are the best part:

"I don't wanna go through the motions, I don't wanna go one more day without Your all consuming passion inside of me, I don't wanna spend my whole life asking, "'What if I had given everything,
instead of going through the motions?'"

That was my "What if?" question.  What if I had lived so that Christ was reflected in me, instead of living so I reflected the world?
Imagine middle school. Do you remember how that went? Everyone meets new people, and there you are again, the bottom of the totem pole. In elementary school, by 5th grade, you were the boss of the school. You could do what you want (hypothetically; in retrospect, there wasn't anything that was that great about being the oldest at the Ridge.) and you earned the respect of the younger kids (once again, not really, they hardly seemed to realize that fifth graders should obviously get first dibs on the swings and when it was their turn for recess, your kickball games stopped for the older kids.), plus you were excited about moving up to the middle  school the next year. In my district at the time, there were 2 different elementary schools - one for the kids in town, and one for the country hicks. I fell into the latter category. In elementary school, I believed in Jesus - sang the songs, went to church, and had a Bible somewhere in my room buried under the Barbies and games and other toys. Then I moved up to middle school. Time for a change. There were new friends to make, popularity ladders to climb, and cute boys - lots and lots of cute boys. I'll be the first to admit that I didn't care about my faith at this time - I was sick of church, I wasn't yet in youth because I was a young kid (youngest in the grade, just about) and so I had no support system to get me through it all. I put God on the back burner. 
I lived life like I wanted throughout middle school. I won't go into all the details yet - another post, I'm sure, I hear ya, God - but pretty much, for now, know that I wasn't living the  Christian life. I wasn't doing drugs, or having sex, or any of that stuff - I just didn't live with God's light shining through me. I was going through the motions.
Enter J. J was a kid who I had grown up with - he went to the same elementary school as I did, and once in a while he would come to my church when we were old enough to be in youth. My best friend dated him in seventh grade, and boy, were they cute. For a while, starting in the middle of seventh grade probably, I had felt like God was trying to tell me something, to share Him with others, like J. I wasn't listening to Him then, obviously - going through the motions, remember - so I brushed it off. J came to my church before anyways, he knew who God was. It was his choice whether or not to believe in Him. He didn't need me to live as an example and try to help anyone, let alone J.
It was almost the last day of school, and the day was gorgeous. The next day was a day off for some reason, and then the last day of school was right after that. J and I rode the bus together, and we sat next to each other. We were talking and J said how he was going to go home and relax, then sleep all of the next day. I said how I had my brother's baseball game that night and all I had was youth the night after. I didn't push the youth thing; J wasn't one to talk about God, I had learned that after he had had a discussion with another kid on the bus one day. As we pulled up to my house, I got up and turned to J, saying I hope he had fun sleeping his day away the next day and  that I would see him on the last day of school. He smiled, saying, "Almost eighth graders, yeah buddy! Top dogs!" I laughed and gave him a thumbs up, getting off and walking to my house.
It was the last time I saw him.
That day, about an hour after I said goodbye to him, J got on his bike to get the mail at the post office across the street. The road was empty; it was only about 3:30 or so and not many people were on the road in the small country town he lived in. He started to drive across - and was hit by a car. The woman was, apparently, drunk and hit him. I don't know if that's true. I don't know how J didn't see her. I don't know if she stayed or if she ran. All I know is, J died that day in the street. He didn't get to sleep in the next day, he didn't get to see what was in the mail, he didn't get to be a "top dog" eighth grader.
I didn't get to tell him about Jesus.
My "what if?" has always, always, always been about J. What would have happened if I had told J about God? He may have shut me down, and I would have had to drop it for a while. But what if he had, instead, shut up and listened? What if he had wanted that? What would have happened if I had had the guts to tell him, to share what I believed, to have lived how God wanted me to so that I was shining with His light?
What if.
This has been a pretty negative first post. It's been a pretty crappy first post, really. I haven't included a Bible verse like usual, I haven't included some witty tie-in to something that relates like I have previously. I just have this. This story, my "What if?", and the song.
This is your NR challenge for this, the first part of my life. Don't go through the motions. Don't spend another day without God's passion and light shining through you. Tell others about God, and what He's done for you. I didn't, and now I think, "What if I had?" 
Share with someone. Share without being scared. Share. You may not get another chance too.
Are you in?


-Kimber.

The Kimber Saga.

A peek into my life, coming soon.

I've been thinking a lot about this blog lately, about future posts and what I could say and how to word posts I have drafted. I kept having a little idea, but I kept pushing it off as soon as I thought of it. "Share your testimony," my brain said. "Someone may need to hear it." No, I thought, no one needs to hear it. I'm just thinking that myself. So I dropped the idea. Then, today, my English prof. asked about my blog - of all things to ask about! Wild! He asked if anyone followed it, saying, "I'm sure everyone wants to follow the life of Kimber. It seems to be entertaining." I told him what my blog is really about - not me at all, more like mini youth lessons or things like that, that are focused towards my age and younger. I don't ever talk about myself - heck, it's in the sidebar description of the blog: I'm not talking about myself. But still, when he said that, it was pretty weird. It was like the little voice came back and said, "See, stupid? About your life - THAT'S what you need to write about. YOUR story."

So, long story short, that's what these next few posts will be about - me. My testimony. My story. Some of it isn't pretty, a lot of it is boring, but hopefully, there will be that one person out there who wants to hear it and needs to hear it. Hopefully God guides them to this page and lets them read what I have to say about what I've gone through and think, hey. Maybe I'm not alone. So, my story will be told in short bursts of whatever I can think of. Stories from my life, hopefully set to something that makes sense.

Your NR challenge for this ridiculously short quickie post is only this - if you'd like, read the up and coming posts. They're going to be tough to write, because what person wants their life displayed, especially on the internet? It'll be coming soon, though. I can only pray that you possibly may get something out of it.

Oh, and as a second mini challenge, I would appreciate some prayer. God needs to back me up on this, and I need the guts to tell it. Thanks, guys.

Are you in?

-Kimber.