Here, Is Good.

[It's winter. Sometimes in winter, one needs to re-instate the series of Here is Good, 

 in order to remind oneself:  Here, [thank you] is Good.]

G-chats with my sweet sis-in-law that in one second are delving into the deep deep of the work of the Lord, and the next second, 

erupt into the goofy of this:

To Live the Community Living

In recent times, I have been walking out a path of obedience, simplifying the scatteredness of my interesting-but-unsustainable life.

One such piece of that interesting life is my little piano studio, and the simplifying has involved the realization that I am not interested or able to just teach any child (even though my heart dies a little bit every time I turn someone away, because--who am I kidding?--I think that I should teach every child...).

But listen, my time is precious and my creative energy is limited. And so, the deciding factor has become: Is there a potential for community relationship with not only this child but his or her family as well?  Because if there's not, my answer to their query is, simply--no.

The result has been this very beautiful communally life-giving thing. Every Monday and Tuesday, my little cottage sings with little ones bopping around, comfortably lounging in my chair, sprawled across the floor, running back and forth to the bathroom, or spreading all their work out over my kitchen table. And I just wonder how much of their comfort comes from the fact that their mothers hug me and set up dinner dates with me before the lessons begin, and that I sprawl across their living room floors on occasion as well?

And every Wednesday, I leave my office and swing around to one side of town, to pick one getting-older one up. I bring her to her lesson, yes...but it's really just an excuse for quality car-time and the sharing of all our thoughts and hopes and realities-of-today and I-think-these-are-my-dreams.

To live the community living with my piano families means I get texts in the afternoon like this:

"Snack and piano workbooks."

It means that the littlest member of one family jumps around my house and into my arms for a "squeeeeeze!" after we have 'family band' time...even though I only technically teach her siblings. It means that her mother searches through my closets for a broom when goldfish crackers spill and I am otherwise engaged at the piano.

It means that I am on the list of approved adults when little ones get their first email accounts, and it means I receive emails from said little ones signed "from your student and friend", asking for coffee dates to talk about things.

It means that when a little one is laid out by a concussion, I go hang out with her for an afternoon while her family does things she can't do. We color and talk, and I teach her how to latch-hook a rug as she leans against my knee.

When her mother comes for her own lesson one morning, it means that I send her to work with a container of soup out of the excess I made the night before.

And it means that this morning, my lunchbox changed for the best when I was delivered half of a quiche and some beautiful muffins,

all before handing over a jar of apple oatmeal culled to life in my slow-cooker over night.

To live the community living means that we are holistically becoming more unto each other, and more unto ourselves. Musically, and otherwise.

There's a New Kooistra Among Us!

Welcome to us,

Mikaela Elizabeth.

We are so glad you're here.

Even when it's hard.

It's usually one of my favorite weekends, seeing the beauty of each person God made, unique and in His image. I usually love to watch and to listen, to connect to each heart and seek out each mind. I love listening for what God has to give, and speaking life and truth into this step of each journey.

This weekend I sat at that Leadership Advance and noticed:
My heart is just not in this. And though my body was there for each long day, my mind felt far away, and my heart unavailable.

"What is wrong with me?" I just kept asking,
but Silence was all I heard.

Add to this that I am Daniel Fasting, out of a moment where God made clear that it was the thing to do. I usually love to fast, love the recalibration of self-denial and my whole being looking to Him.
It didn't take me long to notice though: I hate this fast. I am so annoyed over the limitations of it, and am longing for the ability to eat what I want again.

Once again. My body is here, but my mind and my heart not. so. much.

When Sunday night closed out with worship, I just sat before the Lord. I opened my hands and I said: Realign me.

And He spoke right back, as if He had been waiting:
Will you serve me, even when it's hard?

I sat in His question and I looked at it straight.

My mind said "of course!" but my heart said "no way."

And this is new material for me--I am the girl who loves Jesus so much!
I am the one who says Yes! before she thinks, just because she wants most of all to serve Him.

So I've sat here, and I've pondered, and I've walked out my days, and I've let others speak. And I've come to the realization, without complaint but simple statement of fact:

I feel like I have poured out everything I have to give,
and there is nothing left to fill me up.

Now, we all know the Sunday School answer to this: Jesus is supposed to fill me up! God is my everything, and He is all I need! I should serve Him out of the overflow of my heart! Overflow for everyone!

But listen: What do you do when He Himself has chosen to leave you in a moment where He is actively not, filling you up?

You look at your heart. You see it for what it is.

You see that this is not the hardest thing you've been asked to do, this serving those He's given you, giving to what He's called you, investing and loving and keeping on going. But you see that your heart was in those harder things, and in this season of all-poured-out, your heart is no longer interested.

You see that it is easy to go where He asks you to when your heart wants what He wants too. It is not so easy to go when your heart has said: I'm done.

When your heart is in, your hard is easy. But when your heart says no and He is still asking for it--

Will you still serve Him?

Shades of Leadership Advancing

It's a weekend of 

 inspiring and informative speakers

 mixed with time with dear ones,

 while I watch every move my team makes.

 It's worship

 and sitting with the Lord,

 asking for insight into the ways

 He's made each one.

 After much angsty figuring-it-all-out,

 there's the competition where the teams present their products,

even though it's the Process that is the point.

Winter.

 There were indications that it was on its way,

 then, yesterday, fat snowflakes, falling down.

 I walked, breathing it all in,

 arriving in my cozy cottage, just before the squall.

 It was a brief orientation,

a reminder that winter holds great beauty.

Also, I am very grateful, 

because it turns out my chipmunk friend 

was storing me up a food supply 

in case the winter gets too rough:

[Yes, he put birdseed inside of my boots.

But hey, I figure, as long as he didn't poop in there...]

Success.

This weekend found me staying 

with Kate and Sarah while Heather and Ash were away.

We hung around

 doing some leisure

and doing some work.

Determined to win at this toffee-making thing,

 I tried again. 

And when I asked her "did it work?"

her response was: Heck YEAH!

We of course then ate too much of it, 

until our bellies hurt.

But we were cozy and happy watching episodes off the food network, 

cuddled up together until we couldn't keep our eyes open anymore

and our bellies had taken care of themselves.