Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Some EXCITING News!!!!

So I have a bit of exciting news...

I've been dreaming and working away on a new project this summer. It's a new blog. 
Well, it's not exactly new. 
It will be this blog totally revamped! 
With new vision, a new heart and GUEST BLOGGERS!!!!
I'm super pumped about it and I really hope you'll stop by and check it out. 
It will be coming to you sometime this fall. 

Just wanted to share my news with you. 



Saturday, 17 August 2013

Looking Back To How I Got Here...

I have 2 weeks left of work before the rush of books, papers, lectures and research takes over my life. When summer begins it always seems like it will go by slowly and that September is so far off. Then all of a sudden I'm staring the end of August straight in the face, wondering where the days go. 

This summer I've been interning part time with a church called The Meeting House and part time with BIC Canada in compassion engagement. I've gotten the chance to do some pretty cool things this summer and I've gotten to meet some really fantastic people. And somehow I've managed to learn more than a thing or two about who I am and what I love. Here's a quick overview in pictures of some of the things that have happened this summer...

I got the chance to be a part of 2 Jr. High Compassion Trips to Kerr Street Day Camp with some amazing students and leaders from The Meeting House...
I participated on a serving and learning trip to White Dog, a reservation in Northern Ontario...

Which included traveling to Eagle Lake to attend a Pow Wow...

I caught my first fish...
Two of my favourite gals came to stay with me and I toured them around Toronto...
I saw the Blue Jays play more than once...
I faced my fear of heights and went on the Skywheel, which overlooks Niagara Falls...
And of course a few other wonderful things could be added to the list. 

It's been a rich summer of learning for which I am grateful. I can't help but feel like I'm coming out of this summer just a little bit wiser, with eyes opened a tad bit wider, and with a heart a whole lot fuller. This summer has humbled me in more ways than one. I've gotten a chance to learn about a people group that I really didn't know much about except for vain assumptions. I've went into relationships and judged people first off and come to realize how wrong I was about those people. I've had conversations that have changed my opinions on things, that have moved me from there to here and helped me to recognize things in my own life that I've been blind to. And so yes, my summer has been a rich one. 

I can't help but feel like I went into it with the wrong attitude, wanting to just get through it. It's funny how God uses us even when our attitudes are not what they should be. Perhaps it's just another evidence of the grace he pours over us when we deserve it the least. 

The grace that comes even when I'm at my worst. 

So thanks God for an unexpected summer of lessons and interesting people and beautiful places. And to think, I could have missed this. 

The Kindred Spirit

Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Hey Miss TwentySomething, YOU ARE NOT AN ISLAND!!!

I'm not quite sure what I thought my twenty's would be like. I think I assumed that everything I desired most would somehow just fall into place without much work. Somewhere along the line while working in my dream job I'd be taken by surprise by the man of my dreams, who would sweep me off my feet. We'd start a family and I'd immerse myself into being a young mom, a devoted and super involved member of my church, of course all while still maintaining my strong since of womanhood. Most of this would be accomplished by age 25. 

I never voiced any of these things out loud but I'm fairly sure I was thinking it at age 18 and 19. I was still hopeful at 21 and 22. At 23 I knew it would take a miracle, and by age 24 I was in denial. 

My twenty's were looking nothing like I imagined. Instead of feeling put together with purpose, I was feeling lost at sea. And the worst thing was, I thought I was alone in all of this. 

When I turned 25, the age where I was supposed to have "arrived", I realized that it was time to wake up and get a grip on my life. It was time to let go of some things I'd been holding onto for too long and open my hands to whatever opportunities might be worth pursuing, things I hadn't given the time of day to before. The problem was that changing is messy and brings up emotions and stuff you need to talk through. Stuff that feels shameful at times, stuff that's hard to admit. The worst thing was that I felt like an island, alone in the ocean. No one else was experiencing my feelings, my frustrations, my disappointments and my questions. At least, no one was talking about it.  

Until, a few months ago I came across an article entitled "21 Secrets for your Twentysomethings" and from there I found allgroanup.com. I began reading article after article talking about things that I was feeling, fears that I had, realities that were the same as mine. For the first time I was hearing about other people who were feeling like I was! 

I heard about Paul's (the author) upcoming book and I knew I had to get a copy. 

I'm a lover of books, but it's rare for me to find one that somehow speaks to me from start to finish. No word of a lie, this book did that. I recommend it for every single twentysomething! It doesn't matter if you're in college or university, working the late shift at the local gas station, newly married, forever single, living on your own or still in your parent's basement....read this book! I promise you that somewhere in these pages you will find your story. You will nod your head in agreement, you will laugh out loud because you've lived it, or you will cry because it's what you needed to hear. 

A few of my favourite quotes from the book are...
"I don’t think our plans and dreams are the problem. Our krizaaaazzzy timeline of how quickly we wanted those plans and dreams to be sitting on our doorstep with a big Christmas bow is the problem." 
"But we’re not settling. We’re visiting. This is a season, a stage, the perfect place in time for us to prepare to take the next needed step. You can settle for a season without settling. You settle when you completely give up, when you let your dreams be suffocated by your current reality. Visiting is simply a pit stop, and even though it might feel like the pits, don’t let it stop you." 
"God gives us what we can handle, and sometimes that means not giving us the exact thing we cry out for the most." 
"Because your 20s really aren’t about jumping off the plane and going back home. The life of a twentysomething is that of a nomad. Picking up your tent and continually traveling to locate the herd and test the soil so that you can find the right place to land, the right place to call home. Your 20s are not about finding home; your 20s are about finding the right place to build it."
"Are you freaked out that you have no idea what you’re doing? Perfect! So is everyone else." 
"Being lost might be the exact spot that I can be found. Explorers get lost on purpose, with purpose. Explorers only find something greater if they first lose site of the familiar."

The words in this book have encouraged me beyond belief and I honestly think they will encourage you, no matter where you're at. 

Because you're not an island and you're not alone. 

You can order 101 Secrets for your Twenties here or find a retailer near you. Check out the blog here

Here's to not just surviving your twenties but learning to thrive too! 


Sunday, 30 June 2013


I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be sending my parents off to Africa. 

They are going on a learning trip for 10 days with BIC Canada. They will be learning about what BIC Kenya is up to, meeting with Kenyan church leaders, and helping to run a pastor's conference. They also get to get to go on a Safari, visit a school and spend the day in one of the slums, plus a few other things along the way. It's always been my Mom's dream to get to visit Africa and so I'm excited for both her and my Dad to experience so many new things. 

However, I'm extremely nervous! 

Usually I'm the one leaving and they're the ones staying. I feel like I'm experiencing all of these new feelings with the thought of having to let my parents go! 

I admit that I have an unusual relationship with my parents. That being that they're two of my closest friends. They are two people that I admire, seek counsel from, look forward to having coffee with and even go to the movies with! I talk to them daily even though I don't live at home anymore. They're my greatest allies, my biggest cheerleaders and the most important people in my life. 

And they're traveling across the world for 10 days. 

I know I know, 10 days...it's only 10 days. But it's not really the timeline that is the big thing here. It's me having to put my parents completely in God's hands. Which they really are always in, it just somehow seems like having them in the same province and in the same country feels safer. It's almost like we've switched roles, which makes me terrified for when I will have these feelings with my own children, if I ever have any. 

How do you get to the place where you let go and just trust? 

I'm actually asking! Because I'm not sure and I'd value your opinions. 

I'd appreciate your prayers for my parents and the rest of their team as they embark on this journey together. Prayers for safety, for relationships to be formed, for hearts to be impacted and for an overwhelming awareness of God's presence. 

I consider this having to let go just another lesson I can chalk up to my twenties! 

Boy I'm learning a lot! ;)

Tomorrow afternoon the team flies out of Toronto...bound for AFRICA!!!!

The Worried Daughter

Sunday, 23 June 2013

Lessons From My 3 Year Old Cousin...

That's her...isn't she adorable!!!! 
Almost a year ago I was out for a drive with my little cousin. She was about 3 years old at the time. My aunt was driving and showing me around the area, as I had just moved in. As we drove around the sun was starting to set. My little cousin said ever so sweetly, "Mommy, will sun come out again tomorrow?" My aunt answered her assuredly with a yes. 

It's been almost a year since I was privy to that short conversation but I've been unable to get it out of my mind. It might have been the innocent way that my cousin asked the question or it may have been the sheer wonder in her eyes as she watched the sun go down and really wanted to know if tomorrow she could count on seeing it again. I took that moment in and stored it away. 

I wonder if as adults we learn to do away with wonder? If at some point we lose our sense of awe over a new day, over a beautiful sunset, over winter ending and spring budding before our very eyes. Are we taught to do this? Are we just consumed with a sense of business and productivity that takes over our thoughts? 

It was as if in the moment with my 3 year old cousin that God was speaking to my heart reminding me of the gift of his assured presence and how it is evidenced through creation. It was the reminder to approach life with childlike wonder. To see things with fresh eyes. To be amazed by the smallest complexities that I take for granted all the time. These things are all around me and too often I pass by them because I become so busy and rushed. 

I know that so many of us live full lives and they are often packed to the brim with good and real and meaningful things. But do we ever make room to marvel at the utter brilliance of life's gifts? It's like a kid at the candy store overwhelmed by all that is around him, by all the colours and smells and tastes. Where to start? 

Do we approach life like this? 

Here's the challenge for you and for me. Make room for wonder in your day. Set an alarm on your phone or put a reminder in your journal to stop wherever you are, look around and find something to marvel at. Let yourself rediscover that childlike sense of awe. 

It's just another one of those ways to be fully present right where you are. 

Sincerely yours, 

The Kindred Spirit 

Tuesday, 18 June 2013

Left Behind...

I have this fear. 

I'm afraid of being left behind. 

Before all of my pentecostal friends start thinking I suddenly believe in the rapture, let me clarify. 

I'm a natural born leader and so I've become used to leading. Even in situations where I'm following, I always have the mindset that being a good leader also requires me to know how to be a good follower. And so I follow so that I can lead more effectively. 

As a leader, I fear being left behind. I fear being in the places that don't seem to make sense because they are not how I imagined they should be. 

I fear being the one who still is unsure what to do with my life.
I fear being the one who still is living the student life.
I fear being the one who still hasn't found someone special to share life with.
I fear being the one who is still so uncertain about so many things.

The have are certain areas in my life where I always thought that I would lead the way because I'm a leader and that's what we do. Instead, I feel like I've become the follower.

This is not the kind of following I would have chosen. It's uncomfortable. Sometimes the feelings it brings are enough to knock me out. Sometimes the frustration and discouragement this kind of following leaves me with attempts to push out every spark of hope. 

It's in these moments that I find myself having really brutally honest conversations with God. It's in these moments that I question Him, I accuse Him of not knowing what's best, of not wanting good things for me. These are the moments where I tell God that the grass must be greener on the other side. I play the comparison game. 

I scroll through my facebook feed and I see the pictures and the statuses. And without even realizing it at the time, I wage war against hope. I give into believing that God is not worthy of my trust because He has robbed me of being able to lead the way in the areas where I think I should be leading. And I buy into the lies that tell me that it's my fault that things are this way. And so I believe that I will always be left behind. 

And this kind of thinking becomes like streams of poison in my life. Poison that corrodes all joy and trust and self-worth. It breaks down my ability to respond to hard things with courage and confidence. I become beaten before the fight even begins. Everything that doesn't go my way essentially becomes another arrow sent from heaven aimed straight at my heart. God no longer becomes my refuge and protector, He slowly becomes an enemy only out to get me and make me suffer. 

I've believed these lies for too long. I've let these streams of poison kill too much joy. I've let myself believe that I am a victim of God's "not so great" plan for my life. 

And the thing is....I've decided that it's time to fight. 

It's time to fight against comparison.
Against believing that if your life doesn't look like you think it should, like the lives of those around you, that this must mean that you have been left behind. 
It's time to see things in new light. 

When I spend all of my time focusing on the things I don't have, I miss the things I do have. I miss the opportunities that I have the chance to live in. I miss the daily joy. And maybe the grass isn't actually greener on the other side. Perhaps it just looks that way in the pictures. Maybe all the things I'm experiencing right now are God's protection, they are His way of demonstrating just how much He loves me. When my hand is right up against my face, it's blurry, I can't tell that it's a hand. It's only when I move my hand away from my face that I get a new perspective and I start to understand what's really going on. I'm starting to think that this is actually the case for most of us. 

We need to help each other out. We need more honesty, less pictures of the perfect life and more pictures of our messiness. I want to recognize that most of us haven't arrived yet and flaunting something that I've got that they don't have (yet) can actually be really hurtful. 

My story is not being written exactly how I thought it would be. It's got a few different twists that I didn't plan on taking and the bumps never seem to be in the places I anticipated but isn't this the beauty of life? If my life would have turned out exactly as I planned it, the reality is that I think I would be bored. I would miss all of these people that I've gotten to meet, I'd miss the unique places I've gotten to visit, I wouldn't know the depth that longing and waiting creates in a person's soul. And I won't have the celebration that I'm going to have when some of the things I'm waiting to figure out actually happen. And as I write this, in a way I feel like these words are healing to my soul. They are words of restoration to the places that have become bitter and disappointed. And they are words that I have to keep fighting to speak. This battle is a daily one for me. It's the one I wake up with in the morning and go to bed with at night. 

Choosing joy is just that, it's a choice. And it's one that I've failed to choose too often. 

And I want to change. 

So consider this my acknowledgment that I need to change. Because at my core I believe that God sees, and He knows all about it. 
And that this moment, this hour, this day, this week, this month, this year, 
this is not the end of the story. 

And me, and you, and that person sitting across from you on the subway, we are not, nor have we ever been...


Friday, 3 May 2013

The History I Never Knew...

I didn’t really know what I was going to. All I knew was that it was some type of First Nations conference and it was in Montreal. I met with my supervisor the week before and she told me that she wanted me to go to the conference not knowing anything, having a blank slate. So myself and three others that I met on the way to the conference, headed to Montreal for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

There were lots of seminar options to attend so we were free to pick and choose. Three of us decided to spend our first morning at the conference attending a showing of the film We Were Children. At this point I still wasn’t sure what the conference was really all about. The next two hours were an absolute smack in the face. Throughout the next 2 days I would come face to face with a part of my Canadian history that I never new about.

What was I attending exactly? The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, or the TRC “has a mandate to learn the truth about what happened in the residential schools and to inform all Canadians about what happened in the schools. The commission will document the truth of what happened by relying on records held by those who operated and funded the schools, testimony from officials of the institutions that operated the schools, and experiences reported by survivors, their families, communities and anyone personally affected by the residential school experience and its subsequent impacts.” So I was at a nation wide TRC event. Here's a little more info. about the issue...
“Residential schools for Aboriginal people in Canada date back to the 1870’s. Over 130 residential schools were located across the country, and the last school closed in 1996. These government-funded, church-run schools were set up to eliminate parental involvement in the intellectual, cultural, and spiritual development of Aboriginal children.

During this era, more than 150,000 First Nations, Metis, and Inuit children were placed in these schools often against their parents’ wishes. Many were forbidden to speak their language and practice their own culture. While there is an estimated 80,000 former students living today, the ongoing impact of residential schools has been felt throughout generations and has contributed to social problems that continue to exist.

On June 11, 2008, the Prime Minister, on behalf of the Government of Canada, delivered a formal apology in the House of Commons to former students, their families, and communities for Canada’s role in the operation of the residential schools.” (click for link)

This is the history from the TRC website. However, it’s one thing to sit and read it, it's another thing to hear the stories in person. From the moment I began watching the film, I realized that I have been completely ignorant of a genocide that happened in my very own country. The film depicts the life of two children who were sent to two different residential schools. They are stripped of their entire identity, forced to learn and speak a language foreign to them, forced to adopt a religion unknown, and made to feel shame and guilt for being born a Native. The film also reveals the horrible physical, sexual and emotional abuse done to the children by the clergy. There were several points during the film where I wanted to throw up because the treatment towards the children was so brutal to watch. At the beginning of the film it was announced that there were health aids standing by if anyone needed to talk about what they were seeing. About halfway through the film one of these health aides came down our row and sat down beside our group, we weren’t quite sure what she was doing. I glanced at her through the corner of my eye; she put her hand on the gentleman sitting in front of us. The man was large, well built and looked to be in his early 60’s, and he was also part of the First Nations community. The woman put her hand on his shoulder and it was then that I saw the tears that were streaming down his face. I watched this man for the rest of the film, and tears continued to fall from his eyes. It dawned on me that while I was watching a film, this man was reliving very real events that happened in his life. This wasn’t just a movie; this was the story of his people. I can’t get that picture out of my head.

What followed that afternoon was an opportunity to be a part of a sharing circle. A large group of people gathered, many from the First Nations community and many who weren’t. We sat in a circle of chairs. Many of us wore earpieces to hear the discussion in our own language because the conversation went back and forth between English and French. It was a time to discuss reconciliation and how we get from here to there. There was a moderator but people were free to speak, and each person was allowed up to 5 minutes. I listened intently and took notes. I heard many survivors of the residential schools speak and share parts of their stories. I heard some speak who were very angry at the government, at the church, at the white people who are ignorant of the history. I heard the message over and over again that an apology means nothing if there is not a change in treatment, if the actions of the party apologizing do not change.

The next day our group sat in on one of the main sessions where a very large crowd gathered to hear a panel of people from various walks of life discuss reconciliation. Again, I listened intently and took down notes. After this seminar we attended another seminar where we heard a survivor of the Rwandan Genocide speak. There was a short time for responses and questions afterwards.

I also took some time to walk around and look at some of the different rooms that were set up. There was one room that was called the “church’s listening area”. This was a room where the four main denominations (Catholic, United, Presbyterian, and Anglican) that were involved with running the residential schools set up tables with pictures of the classes and information available for members of the First Nations community that were trying to find and identify family members. This area was also for the churches simply to listen to members of the First Nations community.

There were areas where different organizations set up tables promoting healing and social justice. There were large boards being displayed that gave the history of the First Nations people in Canada. There were boards that showed what life was like in the residential schools.

These were a couple parts of the boards that gripped me…

A little Aboriginal boy in his uniform.

I’ve been trying to write about my experience in Montreal all week. In part I feel like I still don’t know much at all. Another part of me has been trying to work through the tension that this happened and I didn’t know anything about it. Why didn’t I learn about it? Are we even teaching it in our schools? Do most Canadians even know that this happened? I took pages and pages of notes but to summarize them, these are the thoughts and quotes that have stuck with me the most:
  • The church was instrumental in seeking to assimilate the Aboriginal race. They did it in God’s name. They taught the children to speak “God’s language”. They also raped and molested and beat and mocked innocent children. They went against their own holy scriptures. There was no love, no respect, and no justice. One native man angrily said that it’s either that your institution is evil or your God is evil, which one is it? He demanded that we clean out our church.

  • One woman said that what the residential schools created was a “diocide”. This is killing the idea of God in the child so that they spend their life looking for him.

  • One man said, “there is no one and nothing that can give us back what we lost over this tragedy. I wonder what I would have become.” 

  • The government and the church used the school as a venue to destroy the human spirit. Another woman said that there was nothing left of her when she came out of these schools.

  • “They did a good some at assimilating some of us”. “I didn’t want to be aboriginal.”
  • “I was ashamed but I forgive myself for believing what I was told about me.”

  • A non-aboriginal that has worked in high levels of government commented that if white people had the type of living conditions, limited access to clean water and education that many aboriginal people do today, there would be hell to pay.

  • Perhaps the comment that shocked me the most was that “our present life is actually built on a cultural genocide”. 

I guess there was a big realization for me that many, if not all of the issues surrounding the First Nations community today are a result of the residential schools. There were generations leaving these schools with no identity and with so much hatred for themselves and others. Many turned to drugs and alcohol and suicide. There were thousands of people who were robbed of a childhood and who didn’t know how to be parents. All they knew what the abuse. There’s a reason that things are the way they are today.

Once you know it, you can’t unknow it. One non-aboriginal woman said that this is deeply uncomfortable, but have we ever been comfortable when we grow? Another man commented that “reconciliation is not a spectator sport, it’s a contact sport…or initially a collision sport.” Both of these individuals are correct.

Several people have asked me what I’m going to do with this information, with the things that I’ve learned? I’m still figuring that out. But for starters I’m going to encourage you to watch this film and talk about it with others: We Were Children

I’m going to tell you to read about the First Nations history and educate yourself and others. Check out the TRC website. Or read articles...check out this one from the CBC website.

You see mutual respect means that we all have the same opportunities. Aboriginal children need to have the same right to life and hope that we want our own children to have. These things that happened were not dreams or myths, they were real events that occurred in our history. And unless we want this dark history to be repeated, we need to educate people on what happened, why it happened and why we can NEVER EVER let it happen again. We need to promote consciousness and social awareness. In the words of one woman that spoke “why wait for a big disaster to happen before we help each other?” Let’s start now. Let’s begin in our everyday lives, in our everyday relationships and contact with other human beings. Let’s start with educating our children, our friends and our family. Let’s ask questions.

For someone who loves the Church, it absolutely broke my heart to learn about the role that the church had in these events. More than that, as someone loves God, it breaks my heart that the church was instrumental in forming an identity about him based on lies and hatred. It’s my prayer that reconciliation will happen not only on behalf of the government and the country but on behalf of the church.

One thing is for sure, God did not do this. I believe God’s heart was and continues to be broken over this tragedy and over every single child that was robbed of their innocence and their childhood. I also believe that God is in the business of reconciliation and of putting people back together.

So may we become people who are not ignorant of our own history. May we commit to becoming humble reconcilers and promoters of peace. May we let the stories of real people move us to action and may we idle no more. 


Saturday, 23 March 2013

Why "Waiting" Should Not Be Overrated...

The one and only year that I went to a Christian school was my grade eight year. I had a fantastic, young and passionate teacher. I still remember when one morning during devotions she talked to us about waiting. She used this Kleenex box demonstration, in which the Kleenex box represented her heart. Every time she dated a guy she gave away pieces of herself (her heart) to him. So my teacher went around to different boys in the classroom and would put piles of Kleenex on their desks that represented how much of herself she gave to each guy (for illustrative purposes). When she finally met the one she wanted to marry and give herself fully to, she couldn’t, because her Kleenex box was empty. She had given so much of herself to the other guys she had been with that she could not give her whole self to the one she was now going to marry.
I’ve never ever forgotten this illustration. In fact, I even used it once when I was speaking a few years ago to a group of Jr. High students about dating.

Moving up a few years…when I was 16 the song ‘Wait for me’ by Rebecca St. James was my anthem and Rebecca was my role model. She was the beautiful girl faithfully waiting to meet her husband, the one God had chosen for her.

A few years after that I was given the book ‘When God Writes Your Love Story’, that I read with high hopes. I can’t remember if I finished it, but I got the just.

I grew up in a family and in a youth group where I was always encouraged to wait.
Wait for what you might ask?
Yes, wait to have sex until I get married…
But not just that!

For me waiting has always been about so much more than that.
Waiting has meant a commitment to personal and spiritual growth. It’s meant learning to trust God. Waiting has made me deeper. It’s been the struggle that I go to bed with at night and wake up with in the morning.

I am a lover of Anne of Green Gables, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. If you know me well, then you know I often refer to my future husband as “my Gilbert”. My movie case is full of love stories.
When I meet people, I always ask them how they met, how they came to love one another and of course, how how he purposed. I love to hear the stories. They move me, they give me hope and they remind me that God is really good at writing love stories.

You see, I’ve been praying for my future husband since I was a little girl. I pray specifically for his life, for the kind of man that he’s becoming, for the choices he is making, and that he will be able to wait.

A few years ago I was having coffee with a good friend. She got married in her late 20’s and she dated a few guys before she met the one she would marry. The advice she gave me that day has never left me since. She said that she wished she would have prayed early on that she would be able to just meet and date her husband because she had regrets from her other relationships. In a lot of ways, that’s become my prayer. That I would be able to wait for the right person, not giving pieces of myself away to the wrong person.

In a world where waiting has become overrated, where marriages are ending left and right and where having friends with benefits is common, some may think that this idea of waiting is rather silly.

However, I can’t think of something more beautiful, to be able to say to someone someday that I’ve been praying for your life for so many years. I wonder what would it feel like if someone said that to me? The days that seemed long and hard and lonely might be forgotten in that moment.

You see, I think learning to wait has shaped and molded the person that I am today. It has also made me realize how much a person can change and how their ideals can change too. The things I want in life now are not the things I wanted when I was 16, or 20 or 23, but I couldn’t have known that then.

So yes, I watch the love stories because they remind me to celebrate love.
And yes, I occasionally still listen to ‘Wait for me’ by Rebecca St. James, however cheesy it might sound.
And I think I’ll always refer to my future husband as ‘my Gilbert’.

But for those of you who think you are silly for waiting or you feel awkward because you are single….please don’t. Your time of waiting will make you deeper, more ready for what’s to come. Use this time to get to know yourself, who you are, what you like and what you don’t like. Learn to be a good friend. Find movies with stories that fill you up and remind you of the kind of story you’re waiting for.

Cause the truth is, YOU are worth waiting for!

Yours truly,
The Kindred Spirit