Books Worth Reading, Home and Family, Uncategorized

Nesting.

kelseybonilla

Coming into the New Year, I felt called to a very specific intention for 2026: stay home and rest more. 2025 had been a year of growth and exploration and a lot of joy, but I was tired and in need of slow, quiet times at home. The word that captured this season best was nesting.

Typically, “nesting” is associated with the behavior of pregnant women who are eagerly awaiting the birth of a child and trying to get everything done so that their “nest” is ready to receive a new baby. With my “kids” turning 18 and 15 as we celebrated the New Year and their birthdays, “nesting” for me was more about creating the coziness and restorative space for all four of us (plus the dogs!) to rest, connect, and be still in God’s goodness and grace.

A plant in our yard that I noticed after our run.

My “goals” for this year included reading a lot more, scrolling on my phone A LOT less, cooking more slow meals, and scheduling a “Nesting Day” once a month. The only criteria for a Nesting Day was that I wouldn’t drive anywhere that day. I was staying home (maybe going on a walk or run) and just being and resting in our “nest”. Today was my first Nesting Day and I’ve been relishing it!

Teo and I went on a run this morning (my first in a while after battling a cold) and he went WAY faster than me, but it was a delightful time of meditative prayer and running. After getting cleaned up and enjoying a second cup of coffee, my day has included organizing my grading for the end of the semester, reading many pages of an incredible book, and showing Sienna how to make pot roast. The scent is enticing us all with two hours left to braise!

My sweet sister gave me the best Christmas present for this season, Sara Hagerty’s The Gift of Limitations: Finding Beauty in Your Boundaries. I’ve been loving the book and savoring it, particularly the timely message that the physical boundaries of our lives can be a blessing when we accept living within them. My year of nesting embraces this same sentiment, that my life in Christ, fulfilling the most important vocations of wife and mother, are spent in the cozy confines of our home. The more time, energy, and attention I can spend there in a spirit of restful reception, the better.

Just a week after my eye surgery in 2024, I’d heard a similar sentiment on a Higher Things podcast and noted this reminder in my phone: “Satan told Adam and Eve that limits were bad, they were the problem. But God know that our limits are good for us.” Striving to be a limitless is something I struggle with and not being able to see well was teaching me how limited I truly was.

Reading this book has reminded me of lessons I’ve learned and forgotten and put into words more recent stirrings as well. Some gems I’ve annotated include: “A heart settling into peace with its limitations has found genuine trust in God” (pg. 80). She also quoted Ruth Haley Barton’s book that I’d loved years ago, where she said, “If we did down a little deeper, we may see that our unwillingness to practice sabbath is really an unwillingness to live within the limits of our humanity, to honor our finiteness,” (pg. 136). Barton refers to sabbath as the ability to rest from our strivings and experience the emotions that come with admitting our neediness.

There are times when my prayers include “Lord, help me remember that I am finite, and you are not.” This posture invites me to rest and nest.

Toby understood the “Nesting Day” assignment.

Uncategorized

Andiamo!

kelseybonilla

It’s been nearly a year since I sat down to share a blog post here. There have been many moments when I considered it, but one thing or another got in the way. Life has been full in 2025, to say the least. But, thankfully after the challenge of lost vision in my left eye for the last four months of 2024, my vision returned over Christmas break and 2025 ushered in a season of hope.

As the New Year dawned, I felt a sense of time passing in an entirely new way. Perhaps the vision lost created a sense of vulnerability that helped me recognize that life wasn’t always going to be this way. I’d get older, my kids would grow up and start their independent lives, one day we wouldn’t all be headed off to school together. All around there seemed to be reminders that, as full and busy as life was now, this season would pass too.

During the middle of my vision loss season, I needed something to look forward to, so we planned two big trips in 2025. First, we got an amazing deal on a week-long trip to NYC over spring break! Dennis and I have incredibly fond memories of our NYC trip to see Sara Bareilles in Waitress in January 2018, a wonderful birthday gift from my dad and stepmom. We’d told the kids stories of that trip for years and really wanted them to experience the culture, history, and energy of the city! We knew we’d see a few Broadway shows but waited until we arrived to choose the shows and buy the tickets. In between trips to the MET, Ellis Island, the Statute of Liberty, the New York City Library, Macy’s, we enjoyed a quick walk from our Times Square adjacent hotel for three Broadway musicals – Hadestown, Hamilton, and The Great Gatsby! We really enjoyed them all! It was a wonderful trip with just the right balance of activity and downtime to relax as a family.

The other trip we planned in August of 2024 was a BIG trip! Like, the biggest and best we’ve ever taken and it would be both a celebration of 20 years of marriage and a “professional development” trip for my classes – we were off to Italy and Greece! Both Dennis and I have dreamt of visiting Italy for years and since I teach Classical Greek & Roman History and the Renaissance, both of these countries would provide rich experiences I could take back for my students. Win/win!

I would love to write many posts to share the details of this trip, so that’ll be a goal for 2026! Suffice it to say, for now, that it was an amazing experience that we treasure. We got to spend almost a month together without the additional responsibilities of being mom and dad, teacher or coach, and we cherished being reminded that we’re truly each other’s best friend. Exploring new places was exhilarating, we met some wonderful couples on our tour, and we love sharing those memories now that we’re back home. Also, the trip reinvigorated my love of teaching these subjects and I can feel that my excitement comes through in the classroom as I teach about places I’ve actually experienced for myself!

Our incredible tour guide, Joseph, taught us several Italian phrases during our trip. The most memorable for me was Andiamo which simply means “Let’s go!” He would use it consistently after giving us instructions or explanations and then when it was time to start walking somewhere, he’d call out Andiamo! and we’d respond: Andiamo! Then off we’d go. At one point it occurred to me that this word is a great transition word and I told Dave, another teacher on the trip, that it would be cool to use Andiamo as an indicator to myself and my students that it was time to start class. I can have a tendency to let the “catch-up” time at the beginning of class go on too long, so it would really be as much for me as the students to have a fun transition rather than saying, “Okay, let’s start class now…”

As the new school year started, I was intentional about teaching all my students, the 8th-graders, 9th-graders, and even my senior class, this call-and-respond phrase. I know they thought it was a bit silly and even cringy, but I’ve continued to use it and insist that they say it back, matching my level of enthusiasm! If they respond with a begrudging attitude or say it too morbidly, I say it again with even more zeal: Andiamo! They then muster up the energy and say it again. For me this one little word has so much joy packed into it, given my experiences in Italy. Now I’ve added a feeling of anticipatory joy as I convey to my students: Andiamo, let’s go, you’re about to learn something new!

Diabetes, Home and Family

Seeing Clearer.

kelseybonilla

Today at church we did our annual “New Years” toast during fellowship to honor the things we’ve experienced together as a church family over the past year. My contribution was easy. I thanked everyone, on behalf of our small youth group, for sponsoring our attendance at the Higher Things Conference: “Who Am I?” last June in Wisconsin. Then, I expressed gratitude for the prayers for my sight to be restored since my surgery in July. “I’m now able to see fully!” I reported, to sweet cheers from our church family.

On New Years Eve, we sit around the dining table and discuss the past year, aided by reviewing the photos in my phone! We talk about what stood out as significant events and important things we want to remember. Both Higher Things and my eye surgery, and subsequent vision loss, were high on the list this year.

Now that my vision is fully restored, it’s a challenge to reflect on what the four months of compromised vision was like. Human beings are very resilient and get used to a “new normal” to a certain extent so it’s not like I was in constant panic during those many months. Also, changes to the body are often gradual. After my third eye injection, my vision rapidly improved in my left eye over about two weeks in early November. My doctor told me at my December 10th appointment that I didn’t need a fourth injection, though the progress had seemed to plateau with a persistent gray veil remaining in my left eye. He was right! Over the next couple weeks, my vision continued to improve. One day last week, I was jogging at the park and realized I hadn’t seen so clearly in well over two years!

The best description I can offer is that I felt disconnected and disoriented most of the time from the beginning of July to about Thanksgiving. The blurriness and loss of peripheral vision, to the point that I couldn’t safely drive on the freeway for months, made me feel out of touch with the present moment. I could read, teach, prepare meals, exercise, watch TV, but the effort it took me to focus and interpret the visual input kept me slightly on edge. I was truly “going through the motions”. Also, rooms with very bright lights or high ceilings would be extremely hard to function in, keeping me from engaging with the people and activities around me.

I could feel the hope arise in me just before Thanksgiving break. I’d wake up each morning and test my vision to see how much more I could see from my left eye! The beautiful stained-glass at our church was a great barometer. At first, I could just see little dots of light which looked like Christmas lights in my left eye. Each Sunday for the next few weeks, the stained-glass images became more detailed. What a joy to see clearly!

December was a whirlwind of teaching, studying, planning, parties, shopping, decorating, and baking! I enjoyed all of it, but the pace of those three weeks of school between Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks was intense! I could feel myself struggling to relax into the break as I was so used to consulting my list and having the next thing to do demand my attention.

The past two weeks have been among the most joyful I’ve experienced in years! We spent time with friends and made calls home to family, but mostly we spent a lot of time just the four of us, and the dogs, watching Christmas movies, going to church, putting together puzzles, walking at the park while Teo shot baskets, baking, and eating (lots of eating!). The pace has been delightfully slow as I lost myself in reading, doing crosswords and completing a very hard puzzle in just a few days!

I know that the peace and joy I’ve experienced lately is partly due to the lessons I learned and relief I feel after experiencing vision loss for the second half of 2024! Even when I didn’t feel connected to the moment or intentional with my time, God was faithfully guiding me and helping me receive the gifts of service and prayer from my family and friends.

Now that I can see, my values and vocations are clearer than ever. I’m so grateful to engage with my family, friends, students, and fellow teachers as we embark into a near year. Happy 2025!

Home and Family, Lutheranism

Our 20th Anniversary!

kelseybonilla

On Wednesday, Dennis and I celebrated 20 years of marriage! As it was a weeknight, we took Teo to basketball practice and then had a quick sushi dinner and brief visit to the bookstore, pretty much our ideal date night!

The next day, I had another appointment with the retinal specialist, as we anticipated that another injection would be needed. Since I’m still not driving on the freeway and he knows I need the moral support, Dennis picked me up at school to head to the appointment. As we sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor, as we have many times before, I started to reflect on how my idea of a “good marriage” has changed over time.

When you’re young and in love, marriage seems dreamy and romantic. We watch a love of Hallmark movies and the sense that this person was somehow made for you is reiterated time and again. Weddings are joyful and wonderful – we cherish the memories of ours! But, after the wedding, the marriage begins and it’s a daily negotiation of two people compromising, communicating, advocating for their needs, and trying to discern their spouse’s needs.

We’ve given our children the advice to “marry your best friend” because, in the end, as romantic and passionate as love is, you really want to enjoy being with this person you’ve committed to spending your life with. You want to enjoy the same things so you can have shared experiences that are meaningful for both of you. You have to share values and faith in order to have a bond that will withstand the hard times.

As Christians, we know that we’re both sinners and we’ll be constantly forgiving each other for our human limitations, selfishness, and sinfulness. We don’t expect our spouse to be perfect and fulfill our every need or “complete us”. Only God, through Jesus, does that amazing work. We live and love each day in the grace of Christ and try our best to extend the love and forgiveness we’ve received to one another. We love because he first loved us.

Back to the exam room at the eye specialist… I look across at Dennis and marvel at the beautiful and faithful way he has supported me over the past few years as I’ve dealt with retinopathy complications. First, he drove through the night to get me to the eye doctor in July 2022 when my first bleed had obstructed my vision while on a trip to Humboldt. He’s been my “designated driver” for the past four months, even driving a carload of House leaders to and from our leadership planning retreat in August since I couldn’t fulfill the driving duty. He’s come to every appointment with me, giving me encouragement and celebrating when I tolerated each eye injection (and a cortisone injection for my frozen shoulder!) I so feared. He knows me better than anyone so when he looks at me and says, “Good job! I’m proud of you!” it means so much.

We started planning a special trip to Italy and Greece next July to celebrate our 20 years of marriage while dealing with my ongoing vision loss. It has occurred to me how fitting it is that my acute need for Dennis’s support and assistance happened as we anticipated this marriage milestone. It’s a constant reminder that this is what marriage is all about. Knowing that you have someone in your corner who will sacrificially give, when you need it most, is more precious that any romantic gesture. There’s no calculation of what one person has given or done for the other, just a deep belief that we’ll both do the hard work of supporting, loving, and caring for one another as the need arises, by the grace of God.

Diabetes, My Awakening

Feeling Seen.

kelseybonilla

Yesterday I experienced an unexpected and delightfully tender moment with my class of 8th grade boys. Typically, Friday afternoon with a group of boys eager to get to the weekend is like herding cats while trying to woo them into paying attention and loving history! Here’s what happened yesterday…

At the beginning of class, I asked if anyone had a Joshua Tree permission slip for our trip later this fall. That led to a brief explanation that while I’m going as a chaperone, others would be coming too because I can’t scramble on the rocks due to ongoing vision loss in my left eye. (If you’re wondering, I still have total loss of vision in my left eye from surgery on July 5th. Which really deserves an entire post of its own, so I’ll work on that)!

I said, “Yeah, you need both eyes for depth perception, so that wouldn’t be very safe.”

Suddenly one of the boys, exclaimed “Mrs. Bonilla, try to put your two index fingers together in front of you like this,” as he demonstrated.

I followed his example (which now that I think about it is basically the sobriety test motion!) and my right finger overlapped my left instead of meeting at each of the tips. The boys all kind of gasped. I said, “Did you see that? Yeah, it’s hard to gauge depth with only one eye.”

The same student who asked me to try this test, called out “Everyone! Close one eye and try to do it!” They all obeyed his command (this kid has a lot of charisma!) and each one had the same experience of one finger being further in front and overlapping as they tried to put their fingertips together.

“Whoa!” they exclaimed as they looked at me with surprise and understanding.

“Wow, guys, I feel so seen!” I replied.

We then moved on to start our class, but this moment has stuck with me ever since. I meant exactly what I said – I felt seen. I felt understood and their attempt to relate to my experience meant so much to me. Since I’ve been dealing with this challenge all school year, I talk about it seldomly because it’s a downer and honestly, I do better when I just focus on the moment while teaching in the classroom rather than thinking about my vision.

But it has been hard and at times distracting. I feel vulnerable a lot of the time, especially when I’m unable to do something I want to do like drive for a field trip or play House volleyball! Experiencing their compassion and acknowledgement that I’m dealing with a challenging circumstance meant the world to me.

Diabetes, My Awakening, Uncategorized

Vulnerability & Mindfully Slowing Down

kelseybonilla

There’s a quote commonly attributed to Kierkegaard that goes: “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” In other words, we don’t know what the future holds and we make decisions based on the information we have at the time.

When I wrote that post about not knowing the future back in mid-July, I fully expected to be able to see out of my left eye by now. In God’s good provision, he doesn’t let us know when we have a long ordeal ahead of us. We just have to live with the current reality and hope that things will improve.

When I saw my doctor for a follow-up about six weeks after my vitrectomy, he said “I would have expected the blood to have cleared by now, but it certainly hasn’t.” He did another ultrasound on my eye to check the retina, which looks good. He then comforted me by saying, “The blood isn’t hurting anything in your eye. I mean, other than you can’t see out of it.” It’s almost funny. Almost.

I knew deep down that the only next step was going to be an injection in my eye. Sure enough, that was his recommendation. The ironic thing is I had the surgery (which included more laser treatment and an injection) so I would be sedated and not cognizant of the needle going into my eye! Since we’d had many conversations about my needle phobia, my doctor advised that I get a Valium prescription from my GP and come back in a week for the injection.

As Dennis and I sat together in the doctor’s office, I felt so motivated to get the injection in hopes of restoring my vision that I almost told the doctor I could do it. But, honestly, I don’t think he would have let me based on prior conversations. Instead, I felt this calm, peaceful feeling descend on me as I imagined having the injection and conquering this fear (with some medicinal assistance!). It occurred to me that injections may be required to preserve my vision as I continue to live with retinopathy; not unlike accepting the need for injections of insulin when I was first diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes all those years ago.

A week of prayer accompanied a deepening sense of acceptance as I let myself imagine the injection and experienced less and less anxiety. I came home from pre-planning meetings at school on Thursday, the 22nd so Dennis could drive me to the appointment, since I’m still not driving on the freeways. When I came in the door, Dennis announced that Sienna and Mateo wanted to go with us, for moral support. I was moved that they wanted to be there (even just in the waiting room) while their mom conquered a fear. They have been very compassionate and supportive during this entire recovery period, so having them come along felt comforting for me.

There’s always a long ramp up to any eye procedure as they take images, dilate your eye(s), and then you wait for the doctor for a while. Dennis and I chatted while we marveled at the fact that I didn’t feel nervous. I was fully alert and aware of what was going to happen, without anxiety. Valium did its job! The injection was quick, and I felt okay, until the doctor said “Okay, it’s done” at which point I started to get lightheaded like I might pass out. Thankfully, the feeling passed pretty fast, and I felt such relief that I got the injection!

It’s been over a week since the injection, and I haven’t noticed any significant improvement in my vision. There’s some change in what I’m seeing in my left eye (a bit more light coming through) so I’m grateful for some progress. But, what’s mostly changing is my level of acceptance. Instead of focusing on what I’m missing right now, I’m prayerfully, mindfully focused on the new school year beginning and soaking up these moments of growth and transition with my children and my students.

I’m also trying to intentionally slow down and be present in the moment. Not seeing in one eye means that I can’t see what’s on my left side unless I turn my body to check. Last weekend my House had a beach clean-up event in the morning at La Jolla Shores. Being the last Saturday of summer, it was packed! Just before we left, I was down by the surf talking to a parent when one of the House Leaders called my name. I turned to talk to her, took one step forward, and a man on his cell phone (looking down and distracted) smashed into my left side. I wanted to burst into tears but was able to hold off for a few minutes to make a gracious exit. I felt so vulnerable.

Now, school has started, and we just returned from the House Retreat, which was fun and memorable, especially for my House who won the House Retreat Cup! The first week of school included a lovely opening convocation, Vocatio breakfast, and bonding with my students on the first day. All the normal parts of a school year beginning, and I felt largely present and engaged. But I still can’t see well. I still feel vulnerable often. My sweet fellow teachers were mindful of supporting me on the retreat, particularly since it was my first as Housemaster, so my responsibilities were constant. As I lay down to sleep on Thursday night, I thanked God for my safety and that of all our students at the retreat.

This condition has made the concept of “taking one day at a time” quite necessary. I’ve also tried to embrace the idea of really slowing down to intentionally move through space. Gripping handrails on stairs, watching my feet as I walk on mountain trials, trying not to multitask so I won’t get distracted and collide with something! There is goodness to be found in ceasing striving to do it all.

Uncategorized

Need.

kelseybonilla

I randomly flipped to a poem in Paul David Tripp’s collection My Heart Cries Out: Gospel Meditations for Everyday Life last night. The resonance was profound so I’m sharing it…

Need 
I don't need 
a crystal ball, 
a fortune teller,
a deck of cards,
a charismatic prophet, or
a look at the tea leaves.
I don't need 
to obsess about what's
around the corner,
down the road, or
about to surprise me.
I don't need to fear 
the unplanned,
the unexpected, or 
the unwanted. 
I don't need to 
live in the future, 
worry about what's not yet, or
try to figure out divine secrets.
I don't need to 
wish I could understand what I can't understand
or be paralyzed by what's unknown. 

I can live in the moment,
fight today's battles,
surrender my heart,
love my neighbor,
worship and serve.
I have been blessed by rest - 
rest that comes
not from figuring out the future,
deducing what is coming, and 
solving future mysteries.
No, I rest because the one
who has everything figured out
is my Father,
and he holds me and my future
in the hollow of his hand. 
-Paul David Tripp
Diabetes, Home and Family, My Awakening, Uncategorized

I Don’t Know the Future… and that’s Okay.

kelseybonilla

As I’m typing this, I’m trying to keep my hood over my left eye as much as possible so I can see relatively clearly. I’m five days out from an eye surgery called a vitrectomy. Almost two years to the day after my first disruptive vessel bleed caused by diabetic retinopathy, this surgery was another step in the process of treating this complication from living with Type 1 Diabetes for over 30 years.

If you’ve read this blog on and off, (particularly back before I started teaching and my writing time took a significant nose dive!) you’ll know that I went through a personal process of emotional growth back in 2013. Learning to trust God, let go of control, feel my feelings, and be present in the moment were the lessons I needed to learn and life was infinitely more fulfilling, joyful, and connective afterwards. One of the takeaways I’ve relearned again and again is that I really don’t know what the future holds. I used to plan excessively because it helped me to feel in control, especially of my feelings of anxiety. Learning to let go of that illusion of control, trusting God to lead my steps and provide his gifts has given me a deep sense of freedom and delight.

After a busy school year, the last several weeks have given me time to slow down. I’ve been acutely aware that I don’t know what the next experience will be like, both in surprisingly good and frustrating ways.

Our adventure to the Higher Things Conference in Wisconsin was so rewarding and fun! Everything about this experience was new for me and the youth from our church. We literally didn’t know where or what we would eat on campus for the first few meals (flying from California, we arrived 24 hours before the first conference meal was served!). Fortunately, a semipro baseball team, the Lakeshore Chinooks, were playing a game right by our dorms, just after we arrived. We made the spontaneous decision to eat at the game and enjoyed a delightful Midwest summer night at the ballpark!

From the divine services to the breakaway sessions, so many wonderful, gospel messages were shared during the retreat. The girls bonded and stayed up way too late each night talking, the boys got a chance to exercise their independence and navigate the campus on their own, and I took many long walks along Lake Michigan soaking in the stillness and beauty of God’s creation. I also marveled at how quickly people adapt to their new surroundings. From the dorm accommodations to the labyrinth like campus tunnels, to the rhythm of meals and activities; what felt unfamiliar became routine and comfortable in just a few short days. My feelings ebbed and flowed all throughout the trip to Wisconsin and trusting God made it possible for me to accept and appreciate the transformation.

My eye surgery was scheduled for exactly one week after we returned from Higher Things. Going into the procedure, I was mostly praying for peace and calm nerves. I have a history of fainting when getting an IV placed, so that was foremost in my mind. My doctor and I had agreed on general anesthesia (which I’ve had before), so I felt okay about that part. Dennis drove me to the Shiley Eye Center at UCSD and waited there with me before the surgery. I had a wonderful prep nurse named Ana who gently asked “So, you don’t have any trouble with needles, right?” as she prepared the IV. I’m sure she assumed that after 30+ years of diabetes, I was immune to needles. “Actually, I’ve had a phobia of needles for years and have a history of fainting,” I replied.

She proceeded to prep my right hand for the IV. This process always takes awhile because I have extremely small, rolling, and seemingly invisible veins. It took her awhile to identify a vein, but she didn’t make a big deal of it and I just chatted with Dennis about random memories from childbirth (hospitals always bring those memories flooding back!). She got the IV on the first stick while I breathed deeply and DID NOT faint! First hurdle passed!

Then, the anesthesiologist came in to talk with me. I totally didn’t catch his name. He explained that they weren’t going to put me totally under (read: not getting general anesthesia) due to the nature of the surgery, noting that if they could sedate me without having to put me on a ventilator, that was obviously preferable. He then explained that they’d inject a “block” by my eye and that’s “the only place you’ll feel pain…” At which point tears started to flow. “Wait, I thought I was having general anesthesia,” I said quietly. He then clarified, “Oh, you’re going to experience exactly the same thing as if you were fully under.” Okay. At this point, I tried to calm down and pray. I really had no choice but to trust God and the doctors. It’s not so much the pain I feared but being conscious of what was happening and then fainting. As it turns out, I was completely unconscious about one minute after he injected the sedation medication into my IV! They wheeled me out the double doors to the OR and that’s the last thing I remembered before they woke me up in recovery.

It’s been an enlightening process of acceptance dealing with my vision post-op. I don’t know what I was expecting but it’s definitely more challenging than I anticipated. When they said my vision would be blurry for a week or two, I didn’t realize that meant that I wouldn’t be able to see at all out of my left eye. True, with one functioning eye, my overall vision is blurry, but it’s quite distracting and hard to focus with that degree of blurriness. Basically, there’s an air bubble in my left eye where the vitreous was removed, which I can see slowly moving down in my vision. I can’t see anything else though. One benefit of dealing with persistent, intermittent floaters in my left eye for the past two years, is that I learned that covering that eye completely eliminates the issue. So, after they removed the patch at the post-op appointment the day after surgery, and I realized how disabling my vision was, I had to figured out a way to cope. Fortunately I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. The solution really took care of itself! So, for the past few days, I’ve been able to watch a lot of Wimbledon matches, read for both school and pleasure, and watch Christmas Hallmark movies for our annual “Christmas in July” tradition, all my covering my left eye with a hood.

I’ve certainly had my moments of frustration over the past week. I already miss running and I don’t know how long it’ll be until I’m cleared to resume running or my usual level of activity. But, acceptance that I don’t know the future is helping me stay in the moment. I didn’t know the joy that awaited us in Wisconsin. I didn’t know precisely the challenges that surgery and the post-op experience would bring. I don’t know how quickly my vision will improve. But, I’m okay. My family is taking good care of me and I’m extremely grateful for a family culture that allows for a lot of sitting around, reading, talking, being creative, watching sports, and just vegging.

Thank you for your support on this journey…

Lutheranism, Uncategorized

Receiving Grace and Gifts at Higher Things

kelseybonilla

For years I’ve heard about a Lutheran conference led by the organization Higher Things. Last summer, my pastor and I started talking about the possibility of our small youth group attending one of the conferences this summer. Plans were set in motion and amidst the busyness of the school year, we planned and held fundraisers, registered, booked flights, held pre-conference Bible studies, and anticipated this adventure.

The last two months of the school year were hectic and I generally felt disconnected emotionally and spiritually while I strove to get everything done and react to the next thing on my calendar or “to do” list. As I caught my breath after wrapping up my post-planning week, I eagerly anticipated our trip to Mequon, Wisconsin to attend Higher Things, 2024: “Who Am I?” on the campus of Concordia University, Wisconsin. Our small group from Gloria Dei Lutheran included Sienna, Mateo, Travis, Brady, Emma, and my co-chaperone chaplain Brian. I didn’t know what exactly to expect and the novelty of doing something completely unfamiliar was a joy.

I’m struggling to put this experience into words. It was incredible! Our days were grounded in attending liturgical services in the spectacular Chapel of Christ Triumphant with the most amazing acoustics, including Matins in the morning, Vespers after lunch, Evening Prayer at night. Then, we gathered at the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan late at night for Compline. Lutherans are known as the “singing church” and that identity was on full display during this conference. Sitting in the chapel with 1,000 other Lutherans (mostly teenagers!) and hearing the echo of “Lord have Mercy” sung in unison felt like a foretaste of the heavenly choirs of angels.

After the first Divine Service in which eight communion hymns were sung while 1,000 people participated in the Lord’s Supper, our group commented that it felt like the service went by quickly, even though it was close to 2 hours long. What a joy!

In addition to the liturgical services, we enjoyed five breakaway sessions over the three day conference, each of which related to the overall theme of finding our identity in Christ. I really enjoyed a session called “A Biblical Case for Rest” and another entitled “Self Esteem is Demonic”. Both encouraged us to see ourselves rightly as sinful creatures that receive every good gift of rest, grace, and righteousness through Christ. What the world deems as “healthy” self esteem is often an excuse for pride and reliance on one’s good works, which ultimately drives us away from God.

The main theme that stood out, for me, was the emphasis on biblical marriage and the self sacrifice of man and woman as related to Christ and the church, as described in Ephesians 5. One plenary session, a breakaway session on “Dating and Marriage” and a sermon was devoted to this topic! I was moved by the description: “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her…” (Ephesians 5:25). Relatedly, wives are called to submit or subordinate themselves to their husbands. This sounds radical in our postmodern world, but as a woman who struggles with feeling responsible to do everything, it’s actually liberating to realize that I’m not ultimately “in-charge” but have a strong husband to rely upon. What a gift!

It felt incredibly grounding to slow down, receive God’s gifts, and hear over and over again that my righteousness is found in Christ’s sacrificial death and resurrection, not in my striving. Watching Sienna, Teo, and our friends from church likewise receive these gifts and marvel at the joy of worshiping, learning, and playing with other Lutheran teenagers was pure joy!

Also, the campus has the most spectacular views of Lake Michigan! They had this looping path that you could stroll down to reach the beach. Then, you could gently walk back up or take the nearly 200 steps in the long staircase. We went often and took both routes! I was captivated by this beautiful lake and the lovely trails running down the bluff and along the lake, especially at night when the lightning bugs came out! I’d never seen them before and they were delightful!

I’m incredibly grateful for this trip and the many things we learned and remembered about our faith and life. Looking forward to Higher Things 2025!

Home and Family, Uncategorized

Life’s About Changing…

kelseybonilla

I saw my beloved counselor Carolyn last Friday afternoon. As our session neared, I found myself wondering what we’d talk about. My week had been full of teaching, grading, cooking, watching basketball games at school, and talking to biology students about diabetes. Generally, I felt pretty centered and peaceful, especially in comparison to our last session.

But, as I’ve learned over the years, the process of “feeing my feelings” is never ending. There are always emotions present or repressed that need to be processed. 

Sure enough, as I talked to Carolyn about my recent realization that I’d repressed a lot of the emotion around my mom’s cancer battle, strong feelings did arise. She’s wonderful about helping me allow the waves of sadness to happen so that I can feel them instead of instantly trying to make sense of them with words (which is absolutely my default approach!). 

Turns out, watching my mom in such a fragile state and honestly quite close to death, brought up a lot of fears about losing my people. In nearly 44 years, the only close loved ones I’ve lost were grandparents in their mid-90s. Deep grief and mourning are not emotions I’ve experienced… yet. The fact that they inevitably will be, that’s what brought me to tears. 

Suddenly, and not for the first time over the past few weeks, a lyric from an old Patty Loveless song popped into my mind as I sat in my counseling session, letting the wave of sadness crest over me. ”Life’s about change and nothing ever stays the same…” rang through my mind. Turns out I had the lyric slightly wrong (you’ll see) but nevertheless, the truth of the sentiment hit me hard. 

As I started to tell Carolyn about this lyric, the next line occurred to me and I cried harder. ”How can I help you to say goodbye? It’s okay to hurt and it’s okay to cry…” 

“It’s so weird, I haven’t heard that song in like a decade,” I told her.

Our session wrapped up shortly after this realization. Intrigued by the memory and sensing that the song had more depth to reveal, I got into my car and searched for Patty Loveless songs on Pandora. I quickly found it and listened to the entire song. 

It’s one of those wonderful country songs that tells a story. The chorus is consistent but the verses unfold to reveal new meaning in the chorus each time it repeats. It starts with a young girl, brokenhearted because she’s moving away from her best friend. In tears she turns to her mom:

Mama whispered softly, Time will ease your pain
Life’s about changing, nothing ever stays the same

And she said, How can I help you to say goodbye
It’s okay to hurt, and it’s okay to cry
Come, let me hold you and I will try
How can I help you to say goodbye

Sitting in my car, my crying turned to sobbing when I heard the final verse:

Sitting with Mama alone in her bedroom
She opened her eyes, and then squeezed my hand
She said, I have to go now, my time here is over
And with her final word, she tried to help me understand
Mama whispered softly, Time will ease your pain
Life’s about changing, nothing ever stays the same

And she said, How can I help you to say goodbye
It’s okay to hurt, and it’s okay to cry
Come, let me hold you and I will try
How can I help you to say goodbye

Are you kidding me?! I did not consciously remember that this song was literally about a mother on her deathbed helping her daughter say goodbye to her. But, deep down, I must have. Or, the Holy Spirit brought it to my mind since he knows that I sometimes need some poignant words to help me feel my deepest repressed feelings. Either way, I am so grateful for this song.

Reflecting now, there’s so much I love about the way this song suddenly reemerged in my life. First, I relate to the girl in the song. I always call my mom when life gets difficult or I face a challenge. She’s helped me to navigate the hardest times in my life. 

Also, it’s interesting the way I remembered the lyric as “Life’s about change and nothing ever stays the same” when it’s actually “Life’s about changing nothing ever stays the same”. The way I remembered it, there’s a sense of something bad happening to you. But, in the actual lyric, it’s more like you are constantly changed by life experiences. It doesn’t have the same sense of foreboding, instead it suggests growth. 

As I drove home, I called my mom to tell her about the song. As I described it, she said “Well that’s a tear-jerker!” Indeed, it was, and is. Thank you, Lord for bringing it to mind when I needed it.