Category: Uncategorized

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, 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.

My Awakening, Uncategorized

Letting Go of 2023…

kelseybonilla

As the holiday season came to a close and the quietness of winter (such as it is in sunny San Diego) settled around me, I opened my current read, Commonwealth by Ann Patchett, to chapter two. It was the night of December 30th and Dennis was asleep beside me. Our later schedule over Christmas break had me reading late at night. 

The second chapter opened to a scene decades in the future from where chapter one left off. Suddenly the father was in his 80s and fighting cancer.  I read a line where the nurse asked him, “You’re drinking your Boost?” and burst into tears. As I lay in bed, crying for all that my mom endured over 2023, the year that was rapidly coming to an end, it occurred to me that maybe I hadn’t processed all my emotions brought on by my mom’s long, arduous, and ultimately successful fight against cancer.

Trying to get a cancer patient to take in calories, such as those specially formulated in Boost, is a major part of caretaking and nursing someone through the aftershocks of chemotherapy. I knew that now, intimately. I didn’t know that a year ago. I could relate to that simple hope, “You’re drinking your Boost?” in a way I never imagined I would. 

Since that night, I’ve been slowly peeling back the layers of protection I’d built around myself since last summer. I’m ridiculously good at repressing my feelings and this past summer my overwhelm pushed me to adopt new coping strategies to add to my repertoire of being “in my head” and keeping busy. As the holiday season unfolded, I generally felt joyful as we celebrated the birth of Christ, but I also felt disconnected from the moment. My feelings were hard to access and likewise my connection to my loved ones didn’t feel as deep and meaningful. 

Through prayer and the self-reflection that New Years brings, I recognized that strategies like zoning out on social media, keeping extremely busy, and ending the day with a relaxing glass or wine (or two) had all contributed to a general numbing and distancing from my feelings. No wonder the thought of a Boost triggered all that unresolved emotion! 

Around our kitchen table on New Year’s Eve, I asked my family what they felt marked our year. After a brief moment, Dennis replied, “Your mom’s cancer.” It brought tears to my eyes that he recognized and affirmed what we’d all experienced that year. 

Just a couple weeks before we’d taken my mom out for her belated 70th birthday dinner and she shared her gratitude for our sacrifice as a family during her cancer treatment. In that moment, sitting at Larrupin in Trinidad (IYKYK), my emotions felt hard to access, like that season involved too much pain to bring into this joyful moment of birthday celebration. 

Reflecting on that feeling of not feeling deeply, I came into January seeking to let go of control, stop using numbing strategies, and allow myself to feel my emotions again. If you’ve read this blog over the past 9 years, you’ll notice a recurring theme!  This cycle of acceptance and letting go was also accompanied by some nights of insomnia, which is my special barometer for when repression and control has gone too far.

So, I may have more to blog about now that I’m allowing myself to feel my feelings again… I hope your New Year is also full of growth, grace, and goodness. 

Uncategorized

Nothing in the way…

kelseybonilla

Being still is something I continue to struggle with, nearly ten years after starting a blog called “Be Still and Know” which is both ironic and a completely natural human experience. Lately, I’ve felt this lack of stillness in my need to distract myself from moments that felt uncomfortable. While I’ve grown a lot in recognizing when the desire to control my feelings has taken over, it turns out I’m creative in tricking myself into thinking I’m accepting my feelings when I’m actually not.

A couple weeks ago, while home in Humboldt, my sister Sarah gave me Ann Voskamp’s book Waymaker to read. I’ve been in a bit of a reading slump after a couple books (one for fun and one for school) that I didn’t enjoy at all. So, I embraced this bookish serendipity and started to read. Sometimes just the right book comes along at just the right time. Thank you, Jesus!

After marking several passages throughout the book, I came to these lines: “…Driven and motivated to always feel okay is not a steadying way to navigate your one life. If your only way to navigate your inner landscape is to manipulate, control, and dominate your outer landscape, you’ve lost the map to joy” (Waymaker, pg. 302).

Oh, this is so relatable! Previously in life, my attempts to control my outer landscape involved excessive planning, many rules around food and exercise, and generally avoiding anything that would upset me. In recent months, I’ve found myself turning addictively to an afternoon coffee, alcohol at night, bedtime snacking, and a compulsion to scroll social media. I somehow started watching cheerleading stunt and jump roping reels on a regular basis!

While I’d learned that planning, monitoring, and rule-making were red flags that I was controlling my emotions and needed to practice acceptance and surrender to my beloved Savior, these newer habits crept up on me slowly and insidiously. They were little, common activities that I could easily justify. However, in my heart of hearts, in those moments I became still enough to listen, I knew that these activities were all meant to make me feel “good” and/or repress feeling “bad”. They were control strategies, many of which (as a diabetic) had real consequences for my health.

Years ago I read a book called Women, Food, and God by Geneen Roth. Since many of the routines I was noticing surrounded food, I decided to pick it up again to see which passages I’d marked in my previous read. This one hit home:

Eventually, we get so tired of trying to fix ourselves that we stop. We see that we’ve never been able to make ourselves good. Never been able to accomplish ourselves into being someone else. And so we stop trying. We see there is no goal, no end place, no test to take. No one is keeping score. No one is watching us and deciding whether we are worthy enough to ascend. As one of my teachers once said: “You can’t be stuck if you’re not trying to get anywhere.” Eventually we see that it was the investment in brokenness, the constant effort to fix ourselves, that was the very thing that kept the wholeness at bay. If you think that your job is to fix what is broken, you keep finding more broken places to mend (pg. 72-73)

My attempts to fix myself are, again, somewhat more concealed than they used to be. Now, it seems that I’m trying to fix my emotional reaction to life by repressing my feelings and continuing to cope well, regardless of the hard moments I experience. On some level, I decided to keep marching on and handling everything well by not breaking down or letting the difficult feelings in. But, I needed to control my inner landscape through my outer landscape of distraction, stimulants, and/or numbing.

Being still is not enough, in and of itself. Learning to trust God in moments of struggle, anxiety, or fear is the most rewarding work. When I distract and/or numb, I am literally blocked from accessing the peace that trusting God delivers. Allowing myself to feel pain and discomfort is the path that leads to experiencing God’s love and provision. He’s is always God and always tenderly in-charge of my life. True peace and comfort comes when I rest in His goodness with nothing in the way to distract me.

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Coping Strategies.

kelseybonilla

It’s been a very challenging year and I haven’t written much about it because the events are more my mom’s story to tell than mine. Also, I don’t want to leave the impression that my time spent caring for my mom this year was a burden. While it was hard, I also feel fulfilled to have walked many parts of this journey with my mom and sister.

As soon as school got out, the kids and I headed to Humboldt to spend time with family and care for my mom. This trip coincided with another hospitalization due to an electrolyte imbalance, but it also led to finding some important answers in her ongoing healing. We came home in late June and then I flew back up to Humboldt in early July to spend another week helping my mom, including taking her to her pre-op appointments before her surgery, which was just yesterday.

I’m so gratified to say, the surgery was a wonderful success and she’s on the road to recovery!

During these months of making many visits up north to nurse my mom, I found myself using coping strategies that weren’t very healthy. Drinking wine routinely, zoning out on social media, and after a couple very stressful days, eating several bowls of potato chips (with wine!) while watching TV. At the time, I joked about eating my emotions, which was certainly the case.

Now, I could be all perfectionistic about my habits and berate myself, but honestly that’s just a very human response to acute stress. But, now that I’m able to reflect on it, I see that there were many emotions that I didn’t let myself feel during this hard season. In many ways, I felt present in the moment, but I didn’t give myself space to feel the emotions of fear, anxiety, and overwhelm that were certainly happening.

Coping strategies involving food, alcohol, and distraction are numbing, in the short term. But, what I want to do with my emotions is be present to them, feel them, turn to God for support, and lean on my wonderful family and friends for connection. Repressing my feelings just cuts me off from authenticity and my deep need for God’s provision and care.

As we gear up for another trip to Humboldt in a week, I’m prayerful that I will be more present and in touch with my feelings, without the need to numb or distract myself. I’m not making any drastic rules about my eating and drinking habits, though the reforming perfectionist in me keeps trying to set them! Instead, I will ask God for his provision in being mindful about my behaviors so that I don’t turn them into coping strategies that don’t help in the long run.