Doing Hard Things

Hitting "Post" on the Vulnerable Places of My Heart

Hitting "Post" on the Vulnerable Places of My Heart

Years ago, I saw the weight of being “Pinterest Perfect.” Recognized the discontented feelings of inadequacy it stirred up in me and abandoned the platform. Facebook serves as means of connecting with friends from far away, but for the most part, I rarely find myself scrolling through posts anymore. So much hostility, anger, contention.

Then there is Instagram. This happy little bubble where people still seem to be humane. My Instagram feed is full of beautiful photos, empowering words, kind-hearted people, a hint of Pinterest-perfectness, with a mild dose of reality. While the feed tends to be filtered photos with great lighting, Instastories crack me up. People drive around talking to themselves on screen and then share it with people. And I love it. It’s somewhat whimsical, happy and carefree.

But sometimes life isn’t whimsical, happy or carefree…

A Journey Back to Me

A Journey Back to Me

The last couple years have been a journey.  A journey back to me, of sorts.  Buried in the piles of laundry and dishes, weary from the business and busyness of raising four little humans, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and didn’t recognize the person I had become and I didn’t agree with all that the voice in my head had to say.  

Find Your HELL YES!

Find Your HELL YES!

Ahead of time he asked each of them to prepare their favorite “Karli story” and a challenge or exhortation for me for the coming year.  They are all couples we’ve asked to speak into our lives and help us grow, so the conversation was not just “tell us what you love about Karli for her birthday” but rather some lovingly candid words of prodding and exhortation. We laughed, shed many tears as they all shared their hearts and then we came to my husband’s words for me.  He chose four poignant words that have challenged and changed me:



Do Hard Things

Do Hard Things

And then life happened and it felt like I fell from the top and hit hard ground. A shoulder injury, months of being on steroids and antibiotics fighting poison ivy turned staph infection, a season of depression I didn’t know I was in. I wanted to give up on a lot of things-climbing a rope was the least of my worries.