zach n kali

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 ...