zach n kali

My mom's birthday is coming up.  A day that used to inspire joy now comes barreling at me, a reminder that she was too young to go.  The idea of milestone birthdays and anniversaries rings more shallow to me now. Don't wait to celebrate.  Don't put off a party or a celebration or a vacation together because it's not "a big one". My mom didn't make it to her 60th.  This year she would be 63 and I wish I could throw her the biggest damn party she'd ever seen.  Or surprise her with tickets to Broadway.  Don't push off celebrating.  I've been sitting in grief today.  I opened the pages of the second volume of Every Moment Holy: Death, Grief, and Hope, a gift from my grandmother. A gift for no occasion.  Be like her - buy the gift and send it when you think of someone.  Don't wait for a reason or an event.  You speak love when you do this.  Send the card, text the verse, leave a voicemail. The saved voicemails I have from my mom are...

This year has been a whirlwind. Over the past four years, our family has been trying to leave Los Angeles.  We've craved open spaces and a slower pace or life. We prayed for jobs and open doors.  When our knocks weren't answered, we stepped out  in faith to continue fostering. We brought home our baby Samuel for six weeks before he went home to a relative.  Sharing tears with a stranger was holy experience as I handed him over to his aunt.  A few weeks later we brought home our little firecracker at two days old from a hospital in LA.  Reunification seemed highly unlikely, with adoption on the fast track.   Fast forward a very very long three and a half years (which will one day have their own story told), and within three days, we had an adoption finalization and a job offer out of state.  June 2021 and the doors were finally opening. We found a home in a beautiful neighborhood and closed on it within a month.  God made it abundantly cl...

You know how, when you get the common cold, it's super annoying, and you feel crummy, but life still has to go on, and everyone gets them, so you can't really even complain?  Yeah, that's what killed my mom.   My mom died from the common cold.  The obnoxious annoying runny nose and cough that most of us easily work through, quickly recover from, and usually beat multiple times a year. It took one cold in the year 2019 to begin the rapid timeline of my mom's passing.  One cold that, for her MS-weakened body, quickly turned into pneumonia, which again, is something that we healthy people regularly recover from. But for my mom's immunocompromised body, it was too much. On January 8th, 2019, Jesus brought his good and faithful servant home, handed over to Him by her husband and children.  She was only 59. I know many people aren't afraid of COVID-19.  I know many people think that those staying home are just living in fear. I know many people have the atti...

I NEED TO PEE NOW KID SUDDENLY NEEDS TO PEE SO I HOLD MY PEE

  Despising any kind of stereotype, I swore I would absolutely not be a casualty of the Christian college's "Ring by Spring" stereotype. Which meant I inevitably was. I met Zach during the first semester of our freshman year. Because I had made it my MO to say yes to everything, I ended up helping a friend with his student film - a musical based on Queen's Loverboy, something which Zach had literally been dragged to help with as well. After a final late night practice at the end of the semester, a group of us ended up at the beach where he and I talked for hours. I didn't see him again until 6 weeks later when the Spring semester started. My course-load was much heavier and I quit my friend's film project. Turns out Zach quit the same night I did and called a few days later asking me out. Our first date made an impression to say the least. He met me in the dorm lobby where, upon seeing me, he turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, "I'm park...

     Most people enter college with a sense of excitement and anticipation. While I definitely had those feelings, they were accompanied by a deep sense of disappointment that I wasn't at my preferred school. By the end of the first week, the Lord softened my heart and I felt a deep sense of peace as I walked around campus. I could palpably feel the Spirit. I began to be stretched in ways I never thought possible. Naturally shy, I quickly realized that I needed to get out of my comfort zone and open myself up to strangers. For the first time in my life I didn't have friends placed in front of me as I had while attending a small youth group or school. I was terrified of being away from my family, but because I was willing to open myself up to a new community I wasn't lonely. I made it my mission to say "yes" to anything I was asked to do or join, so long as it didn't conflict with my values. Because of this, I made dear friends, played sardines all over campus,...

     With a new attitude and new opportunities, I began high school. High school provided me with all the activities and creative outlets I had longed for - friends, theater, choir, a small band, missions trips, worship team, and student government. I began to flourish and the main person behind this was my mom. D espite the physical limitations caused by MS, my mom was incredibly involved in every area of my life. Regardless of how tired she was, my mom never complained and showed up at every choir concert, every play performance, every fundraiser, every basketball game, often recording for my dad or other parents. The school should have a plaque in her honor. Each late night after practice or rehearsal when we got home after dinner time, she sat with us while we ate and listened as we recounted the banalities of our day. Each morning began with her softly knocking on our doors and ended with her screaming at my brother that he would once again be late for school i...

Moving to Chicago opened doors that I didn't know existed.  I discovered youth group, cheerleading, class electives, student government, and, because of my very passionate music teacher, the Beatles. Though there were typical junior high struggles, I developed a core group of friends and developed a passion for being deeply involved in the things I loved.   In 1999, with my Dad's coursework complete, we moved back to Austria.  I was devastated. My hormonal, Jr. High soul felt crushed. My parents were taking me from everyone and everything I loved. The school I would be attending for 8th grade was a small private Christian school, with less than 200 students, Kindergarten through Seniors.  There would be 18 students in my class.  No band, no sports, no student government  Our church didn't have a youth group. By the end of the year I had sunk into a deep depression. I was angry that my parents' ministry was ruining my life.  I didn't understand why...

In 1997 our family moved from our small Austrian village outside of Vienna to the suburbs of Chicago where my dad began a PhD program in Intercultural Studies. I started junior high while my brother and sister attended the local elementary school.  My dad's program was demanding and took up most of his time.  One of his few respites was Monday Night Football.  Growing up, John Elway was a household name. My brother had his smile. My dad would watch tapes of games my grandpa would record for him. As a young girl, longing for her father's attention and approval, I struggled feeling like my dad was often either working, traveling, or watching football. When I was in 6th grade my Dad's beloved Broncos won their first Super Bowl in history and were looking strong once again as I started 7th grade. It was then that I decided I would either need to accept feeling ignored on Sunday and Monday nights or I would need to learn about football. I chose the latter. At this time,...

I was born into a Christian family with a strong long-standing Christian background.  My dad's parents had been in Christian ministry as long as he could remember, and though my mom's parents were not saved, they supported her decision to follow Christ at the age of 14.  Both my parents had a passion for ministry and a desire to lead the world to the kingdom.  They moved to Austria a month before my second birthday.  While my parents worked in theological education in East Germany, I attended Kindergarten and began developing Austrian personality traits.  Today I am still a person who is very reserved until I am comfortable in my surroundings, and I still eat using my fork with my left hand while holding my knife in my right.  I grew up playing with my younger siblings, exploring everything that the woods behind our house had to offer.   In 1991, the Cold War ended and the Iron Curtain came down.  It was at this time that my dad felt it was...

Using his best Sean Connery imitation, this was Zach's sage advice for me as I whined about my lack of projects during this quarantine.  As natural doer, having nothing to do has been rough.  To be a doer who's not doing is... "unnerving" as Lumiere puts it in Beauty and the Beas t. Which is why Zach has tried to get me to write, regularly quoting Finding Forester to try and motivate me. The problem is that I don't like to write unless the words are flowing out of my soul with ease. My fingers fly over the keys, barely keeping up with my thoughts, my body feels as though something is quite literally brimming inside of me that is spilling out onto the page.  When I don't have words... punching the keys feels like a chore. A discipline. Work. As I thought about it some more, I realized that, while I may not have any new words, there are words I've written that haven't been shared. More correctly, they have only been shared with a very small group of pe...

It's been six months since my mom met Jesus face to face. Over these six months I have cried, agonized, and missed her so desperately I have felt as though my heart and guts were being ripped from my body. I have asked "Why?" over and over again. I have felt cheated, angered, and jealous of those who have been given more than sixty years with their own mothers. I have had panic attacks over our decision to let her go, even though I know that it was the right choice. I have questioned almost everything - except one thing. I have never questioned God's love. God loved my mom. Looking at her life, it might not seem like it. How could a good and loving God allow her body to absolutely fail her? How could a loving God allow someone as energetic and vibrant and Kingdom-focused reduce her to a shell of who she was? How selfish could he be to allow himself to be given glory through her suffering? Throughout her life, I questioned a lot; but I never questioned his love - becau...

Four and a half years ago, three novice cyclists decided to take on 90 miles of wine country to raise money for the National MS Society. We trained, fund-raised, and made the long drive up to Sonoma, where we quickly realized we had no idea what we were up against. My adorable teal Townie was no match for the hills and one of us may have ridden most of the day in a high gear. We showered in trucks, slept in a tent, woke up sore and exhausted, but also incredibly proud of what our tiny little team did. We might not have raised the funds that Team Google did or ridden the 150 mile route that the seasoned cyclists did, but together we rode in honor of an amazing women with the hope that the funds we raised could somehow be used for her in her fight against MS.  Four and a half years later, we are standing together again. Once again in honor of Carol Klingsmith, who two months ago passed away from pneumonia complicated by her MS, and this time with the hope that any funds we raise ...

It's International Women's Day today.  And I would give anything to have the most important woman in my life back.  It's also exactly two months since she left us, but the pain is as real and visceral as it was that day.  My mom was not and will never be famous.  She didn't change the world, open new doors, knock down walls.  She was the definition of quiet stability.  She was the embodiment of strength.  In 1991, with three young children and a traveling husband, and living on the mission field, she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.  And she prayed, not only for her own healing, but more than that that she would first and foremost bring glory to God, and secondly, that she would be there for her kids.  This incredible woman had devoted herself to her God, her husband, and her children, knowing that her purpose was not to make a name for herself, but to live and breathe Jesus regardless of her circumstances.  She created a warm and ...

On January 8th, Jesus welcomed my mother saying, "Well done, my good and faithful servant". On January 19th we celebrated her life with friends and family. I thought long and hard over what I would share during her service.  Words could never do this incredible woman justice. I thought about the suffering she endured here on earth. So much suffering. There is no question about the MS that took a toll on her body, especially over the last 14 years. But no one has really addressed the suffering that my mom dealt with from 1998-2008 as she raised three preteens and teenagers. People have talked about the joy she had as she chose Jesus instead of bitterness, but what about the joy she chose to find in sitting through 27 middle school and high school plays – not just once, but every single performance? She deserves a plaque at Vienna Christian School. We talk about Mom's perseverance through her pain, but what about the ways that she persevered through conversation as I reco...

"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him" (1 Samuel 1:27). After finally adjusting to the craziness of having three kids (it only took us about a year and a half, haha!) we decided to put our names back on the fostering list in August.  During the months leading up to this, I spent time praying over the precious life that would join our family.  Prayers for his or her safety, prayers for comfort, prayers for health and protection.  As we got our room ready for the little one, I made a sign to go above the crib with 1 Samuel 1:27 written on it.  It only seemed fitting. In my deepest heart I wanted this little one to know that he was already loved. Not surprisingly, the day we went back on the list we got a call.  A newborn baby boy, waiting in the NICU for a family.  We were it.  And oh how we loved him! He hadn't been named, and Samuel felt like the perfect choice.  Our Sammy began to grow and thrive and smile ...

It's been almost a year since I last wrote.  Funny how words used to just flow out of me, but now much of my day is spent listening instead of writing.  Listening to the kids play, listening to Minecraft plans, listening to squabbles, listening to recaps of soccer games.  It is often said we need to spend more time listening and less time speaking.  This year, I want to add to that. I want to spend more time praying. Prayer is something I didn't struggle with too much until I had kids.  And then it was still easy to pray for the basic things - good attitudes, health, and safety -  but I confess it came at a pretty superficial level.  I was amazed at the people who prayed for their children's spouses when their kids were still newborns.  It wasn't just the dedication that impressed me so much; it was the control they seemed to be giving up.  At the moment I'm a pretty big fan of arranged marriages.  And arranged careers.  And arran...

My dance card is full... but not because I don't want to dance with you.  It's because there are three little lives who have currently filled out lines 1-10. With their tiny little hands they have scribbled in their names and in the margin they have written "we get 11-20 also".  Their dances do not mesh with mine - I'd prefer a slow dance to the cacophony of sounds they are currently jamming to. Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries The dance of the week is Sickness - not that they chose it on purpose, but it is what they are playing.  I'd prefer Health or Energy.  And while sometimes just two of us dance, at other times all three join in.  We look like a one-man-band, stumbling around, one on my back, one trying to lead, one dancing to a completely different rhythm, and me, just waiting for the song to end.  The other dancers have cleared the floor, because, let's be honest, Sickness is not a dance anyone wants to join. ...

Over the past six months I have done so much thinking about the need for more foster families. During National Foster Care Awareness month in May I heard number after number - over 20,000 children in foster care in LA county, over 60,000 in California.  I have been discouraged by the consistent high numbers of children in the system, waiting for someone to provide a safe, nurturing home.  I have wondered what difference we could possibly be making when the number is that high.  I have felt burdened to the point of wishing that I could stick my head in the sand and pretend that there was no need at all. Close my eyes, look the other way.  Revert to the old plan - small little family, our safe little life. Oh but what a selfish way to live. Pretending that the problem doesn't exist will not solve it.  Looking the other way does not give a child a warm bed.  I have lifted my tired heart to God and told him that I was tired of feeling called and hearing of th...

The month of May was National Foster Care Month.  In light of this I wanted to wrap up a few thoughts I had.  Much of our family's story is familiar to many of you who have have walked with us on this journey, the many of you who have cried with us and celebrated with us, have carried us when we've been exhausted, and have lived life alongside us.  Zach and I were so humbled and blessed to share our story in a few different settings over the month.  Humbled because so many of you out there have greater stories and have done so much more than we have, but we pray that God would use our  little  voices for his glory. We are not the poster children for foster care - what we are is the poster children for God's grace and redemption, as are each one of you who calls himself a Christ follower.  But prayerfully, our journey as a foster family would speak to you in your own walk with the Lord, in demonstrating God's amazing grace when we walk with faith. ...