Monday, August 11, 2014

Marriage Monday: Five Things I'm Glad I Did Before Getting Married

I got married two weeks after turning 23. I get that to a lot of people (like, everyone living in a non-southern state), that probably sounds really young. For me, however, the timing felt just right.

First and foremost, our confidence in proceeding with a Hitched in a Hurry wedding came from the Lord, who gets full credit for bringing Taylor and I together as lifelong teammates in pursuit of Him. When I look in the rearview mirror, however, I’m also reminded of a series of experiences that helped me transition from single woman to wife with as little regret as possible. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that because I did these things on my own, the Lord rewarded me with a husband. These are just adventures and decision-points that, on a practical level, helped me enter marriage without fear of “missing out.”

So without further chit chat, let’s get to today’s #marriagemonday topic!

. . . 


5. Traveled 

A few months after graduating from college, I jumped on an opportunity to move to Southern France and work as an au pair. While I’m looking forward to doing more traveling with my husband in the future, I’m also very grateful for the time I spent exploring Europe tout seul. Traveling literally opens your eyes to another world. It also helps you become aware of the fact that 1. Your perspective is not the only one in existence. 2. There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know. 3. Shocker! You’re not necessarily always right. These are all great lessons to learn before entering into a marriage relationship. Merci beaucoup, passport!

4. Got a Big Girl Job

Working full-time as a single woman provided me with real-world experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I learned to manage a busy schedule, set priorities, budget and make financial decisions, pay bills in a timely manner, live in and maintain my own place, and consider and evaluate my long-term goals. All of these things helped me grow into adulthood and out of a state of child-like dependency (and the cocoon of college).

On the job interviewing the one and only Austin Scarlett

 3. Tried Random Things

Competing at Miss Texas was random, y’all. And I am SO glad that I tried it before getting married. I got to wear a crown and sash, speak to students, do the pageant wave in a parade, get spray tans on a regular basis, perform a talent routine in front of hundreds of people, and answer the question, “I wonder what would happen if ... ?” Pageantry was a brief adventure that was all my own. I don’t ever have to wonder now if I could have been Miss America, because I already tried. Professional conferences, art shows, and writing competitions were also among the random things I tried as a single woman. So, checking things off the solo bucket list before marriage? A definite Do-Before-“I do” in my book. 

Post-presentation, we're ALL doing the pageant wave

2. Dated + Waited

I learned so much about what I was looking for—and not looking for—in a marriage relationship by being in more temporal dating relationships. That being said, this is an area that, in my opinion, deserves a “proceed with caution” sign. I’m going to skip through a lot of vague purity lingo here (which we’ll dissect in another post) and just say it like it is: I did not have sex before marriage, and it’s the best decision I made as a single woman. While sex frequently gets a bad rap in the church—associated with words like dangerous, wrong, dirty, and/or sinful—the reality is that having sex in the right context (that’s marriage) is safe, right, pure, holy, fun, and an integral part of building emotional intimacy. Did I date perfectly? No. But I did frequently remind myself that my husband was out there, which encouraged me to reserve as much of my body and heart as possible for him. If you’re considering waiting to have sex until marriage—or recommitting to physical purity in a current relationship—but are not sure that the benefits will outweigh the temporary cost, I encourage you to think toward the future with excitement and reserve what’s secret and sacred and sexual for your spouse only. The ups and downs of dating and the temptations and frustrations of waiting are worth it. More importantly, YOU are worth it. You are beautiful and loved and cherished. Remind yourself of that truth today … and every time you go out on a not-so-incredible blind date. 

1. Followed Jesus 

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”

This is a misunderstood verse, I think—especially when it comes to relational desires. It’s easy to read Psalm 37:4 as an “if-then” equation. In the context of this discussion, here’s what that would look like: “If I can just be satisfied in Jesus, then I’ll get a husband.” Here’s how I started reading this verse as a single woman, and how I’m still learning to take hold of its truth now that I’m married:

Go where He’s leading—whether it’s to France to work as an au pair, or to a desk job in a high-rise building, or under the lights of the Miss Texas stage, or on a date set up by a friend, or all of the above—and trust that He will bring the right person into your life at the right time, no manufacturing required. Seek His face. From experience, you don’t have to see where everything’s going in order for His design to be accomplished. You don’t have to convince your heart that it doesn’t want to be married in hopes that, by some act of spiritual reverse psychology, God will finally give you what you’re pretending you don’t even want anymore. And you definitely don’t have to achieve perfection in order for your prayers to be answered or your needs to be met.

 Being single is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn what it means to delight in the Lord and grow in your intimacy with Him. It’s one-on-one time that allows for serious heart-rendering and wall-breaking and freedom-setting. It’s also important to note that marriage does not bring wholeness or complete satisfaction. That’s why it’s so extraordinarily important for all of us—whether “taken” or single, married or unmarried, sick or healthy, in good times or in bad—to come to a place where He becomes the desire of our hearts. Just Him. Not the things or the people or the relationship status He can bring to us. It’s difficult to say this as a newlywed, but I know that it’s true: all earthly relationships—even the best ones, like Christ-centered marriages—will pass away. The relationship I have with my Savior, however, will never end. That’s one of many reasons why, whether single or married, He deserves my first love and my first attentions. I’m thankful for the work the Lord began in my life as a single woman, and I pray that He will continue to work out His will in my life until I am old and gray and can’t remember anything but the all-surpassing love of the Father—the One who loved me first, last, and best. 
. . .

The point of this list: Being “ready for marriage” has nothing to do with the date on your birth certificate, the experiences under your belt, or the accomplishments on your résumé. It has everything to do with following the Lord’s unique plan for your life and saying “yes” to His calling.

Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don’t try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; He’s the one who will keep you on track.” Proverbs 3:5-6, MSG

Monday, August 4, 2014

Marriage Monday: A trip for two

Last weekend, Taylor and I went on a trip to San Antonio. We had two goals: to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, and to take a step toward our dream of traveling together.

Taylor and I have both done quite a bit of traveling on our own, so I think we both assumed that adventuring out into the world as a team would be really easy for us. After all, we've been married for A WHOLE YEAR. Meaning we have this marriage thing on lock-down, we're certified relational experts, and we never-ever experience conflict. Except, wait...none of those things are true. Here's how that realization played out:


Day One went off without a hitch, minus the fact that I left a celebratory bottle of wine and two extremely necessary cups of coffee at our apartment. No big deal. We overcame these potentially argument-inducing obstacles with ease, and proceeded to the highway. Detours incurred were only of the fun variety—Czech Stop for kolaches (and replacement coffee), and a surprise visit to the Natural Bridge Caverns. After arriving in San Antonio, we prettied up a bit at our hotel and hit the Riverwalk for dinner. Love-and-marriage success!


And then came Day Two, when I was reminded why I always tell newly-engaged friends that "marriage reveals selfishness." Let's set the scene: San Antonio is experiencing record-breaking heat waves. I open up my bag in the morning and realize that I left every single pair of shorts I own at home (and that obviously I'm not as adept at late-night packing as I previously imagined). I am forced to wear black workout pants (which smell like the inside of a cave thanks to the activities of Day One), a workout tank, and tennis shoes. We proceed to the Alamo, where every other girl there is wearing a cute sundress and cute sandals and cute sunglasses. It's fine. 

Oh, yes. We "Remember the Alamo."

Post Alamo, Taylor suggests that we rent city bikes and visit the rest of the "nearby" missions. He graciously asks if I would like to do this. I pause for a long moment, because I am not good at biking, I am hungry, and I am already feeling the heat...but ultimately I give the plan the go-ahead, because 1. I can tell that he really wants to go, and 2. I think that there is potential in the plan for a few cute Instagrams (see this post for details).

Noticeably, there are no pictures of me at the missions. Why? Read on.
Long story short, my attitude plummeted from agreeable to tolerable to every-word-out-of-my-mouth-is-a-complaint in about 10 minutes. The "short" bike ride was actually 18 (hilly) miles in its entirety, and by the time we arrived at the first mission, my arms were sunburned from the tops of my shoulders to the backs of my hands. Naturally, I made sure to call out frequent updates about the status of my burn, the severity of my thirst, the fact that I had almost crashed into the river, and the searing pain in my calves to Taylor at least every five minutes. Surprise! We ended our bike ride early...and proceeded to enter into a pretty decently sized fight.

Conflict inevitably happens in every relationship, whether it's a romantic relationship or even a friendship. But in marriage, you don't just get to agree to disagree...or run away to your hotel room and pout. You commit to work it out, to dig to the bottom, to see through the other person's eyes, and to understand. And so in that moment—the one where we were supposed to be having fun, but seriously considering high-tailing it back to Dallas—we learned something(s).

He likes to jam-pack his travel schedule.
I like to move at a slower pace.
He likes to do action-oriented activities that require sturdy travel clothes.
I like to find the most authentic cafes and boutiques in town...and look "cute" while doing it.
He can go all day without eating.

These aren't travel-together deal breakers by any means. They're just differences and preferences that, even after one year of marriage, we didn't know existed.


Learning the aforementioned lesson made Day Three a lot more balanced. We woke up, walked to a nearby Mercado, and enjoyed a breakfast of Mexican pastries and coffee. Afterward, we packed our bags and finished out our mission tour...only this time, by car. On the drive home, we stopped by the San Marcos outlets—his request—and made time for a burgers-and-shakes lunch at a local hole-in-the-wall I spotted while driving down the highway.

. . .

About a month after our wedding, a recently-engaged friend called and asked for my best marriage advice. Although I threw out an "I've only been married for a few weeks"-disclaimer, I still happily shared a few insights, feeling for about five minutes like I might have really figured a few things out.

If I'd really nailed down the whole marriage thing during month one, I'd be an expert (and probably a certified counselor) by now. But here's the truth—like all things that are holy and God-ordained and good, marriage is continually revealing the cracks in me. I hear that this is called sanctification, and although it's painful (and even embarrassing) to come face-to-face with my own shortcomings on a regular basis, it is such a good, good thing.

Missions, Round Two: Success!
These are just a few of the things I've learned during year one of our Hitched in a Hurry marriage:

Compromise. Teamwork. Laughing at mistakes. Asking for forgiveness. Saying, "I'm sorry." Saying, "I'm sorry" again. Accepting apologies. Moving past conflict. Choosing to have fun. Thinking of your spouse. Loving them through the pretty and the not-so-pretty moments. Chipping away at selfishness. Giving. Growing. Forgetting about how things are "supposed" to happen. Throwing plans out the window. Refusing to walk away. Standing in awe of the Father's goodness. Feeling humbled and blessed beyond measure at the gift of doing life with your best friend. Seeking and following and becoming more like Jesus, both as individuals and as a unit.

So thanks for the memories, San Antonio, and happy Marriage Monday, y'all. I hope you'll be encouraged by this new blog series!

Thursday, July 10, 2014

What's your filter?

I have a love-hate relationship with social media. Instagram in particular at the moment, although Facebook and Twitter and blogging certainly factor into my feelings as well.

I've had it up to here—imagine my arms raised as high as they'll go above my head—with Instagram filters. I'm thinking in particular of the ones that give that white-washed look to everything. The ones that makes everything look light and bright. That morph the colors of flowers into hues richer than those found in nature; that turn blemishes and pores and skin into stark, featureless planes that used to look like faces.

I am tired of looking at gorgeously plated food with slices of strawberries scattered around the edges of a Pottery Barn plate to give the image an artistic, undone appeal. I am tired of seeing gallery walls arranged over desks with just the right amount of clutter—enough to make the desk owner look chic and busy, but not enough to make her seem messy and unorganized. I'm tired of lusting after kitchens without anything on the counter tops.

Mostly, I'm just tired of perfect. Tired of looking at it? Absolutely. Tired of trying to achieve it in my own life...and on my own Instagram account? Even more so.

There is no Instagram filter for life. There is sharp sunlight and there are deep shadows, with no friendly Valencia to balance everything out. We have to experience it, whatever "it" is. The realness. The unflattering angles. The true colors. The way that everything actually is, rather than the way we wish it could be.

These are questions for me and for you: When are we going to stop trying to arrange everything? When are we going to stop taking pictures of our food and just eat it already? When are we going to have a great hair day and enjoy feeling beautiful without taking a selfie? When are we going to go on dates with our husbands and just hold hands instead of holding an iPhone to document every tender glance, every lingering touch...all those things that used to be personal, just between the two of us? When are we going to turn the flash off, take away the props, and let things be the way they really are? When are we going to stop obsessing over aesthetics?

Real life has nothing to do with how things look.

FYI, we got into a random fight right after this picture was taken. I should have put my phone down and focused on making up with my husband, but I was too distracted with trying to select the perfect filter for our perfect Fourth of July Instagram post. I made the mistake of investing energy in fixing the way we looked, rather than fixing the problem between us. I posted the picture (like, while I was in the middle of being angry). Why? Because the lighting is pretty. Because we look so happy. Because my eyes look really blue. And because no matter how hard I try to fight it, there's a disconnect between my reality and the online personality I'm willing to show others.

There's falsehood in social media. Never forget that. Everyone holds back the things they don't want to be seen, and promotes the things that they do.

Here's what life really looks like this morning, without a filter. This is what I'm promoting today. Will I always promote this? No. I'm an artist and a creative. I love pretty things as much as the next girl. I enjoy bright colors, I love plating pretty dinners, I like taking cute pictures with my husband, and I think it's fun to document our travels and adventures together. I'll keep doing that, and I'll probably keep "liking" pictures of beautifully stacked donuts displayed in front of clean, white backdrops too. But I'm going to fight even harder for balance and perspective and realness. I'm going to start seeing Instagram as more of an art form, and less of a snapshot of "real" life.

Final thought: I think we're so attracted to Instagram and its filters because we long for perfection and cleanness. But no Mayfair or Rise or Hudson or Walden will ever give us the inner purity we crave. They can only mask the dirtiness and the rough edges of life. True transformation comes from Jesus Christ, the Author and Perfecter of our faith, and our souls, and our life. He's the One who gives us purpose. He's the One who makes us whole. He's the One who makes things right, and new, and clean, and bright.

Filter your world through Him, and I promise: things will start to look a whole lot better...only this time, from the inside out.

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2

Friday, June 20, 2014


It's not my grandmother's birthday, or even the anniversary of her death...but I've been thinking about her lately. 

Remembering every detail of her house. Remembering the way she loved to change out her bedspread to give her room a fresh look. Remembering the little apartment she moved into later in life. Remembering how she always kept her freezer stocked with at least five different flavors of ice cream. Remembering every birthday party she came to, every Christmas visit, every dress-up costume she sewed, every time she said, "I'm so very proud of you." Remembering how unexpected her death was to me, although all the signs were there—and had been there for a while. I just couldn't see them. 

It wasn't real to me that one day she would no longer be here. I always told her that she would live forever, and I think I honestly believed that. I never imagined that she wouldn't know my husband or be at our wedding. I still feel the urge sometimes to call her on the phone and tell her about a new recipe I've tried—she was the master chef, the expert, the maker of unmatched chocolate pies and fried chicken—so I know she'd love to hear all about my experiments in the kitchen. She was incredibly smart, ready to laugh, gave the best head scratches, and was the most consistent pen pal I've ever had. I rejoice in the fact that my grandmother is with our Savior, free of pain and suffering. But I miss her...and that's okay.

I wrote this poem after her passing three years ago. In honor of remembering, I'd like to share it with anyone else who's still remembering, too. 

No Scents
by Karley Kiker

We were talking perfume
the other day—
our favorite scents,
what’s “us.”

Bright freesias,

I tried to remember you,
that essence you wore.
Not vanilla or roses—
nothing bottled,
something more.

But was it flour or sugar?
Was it cinnamon or iced tea?
Store-bought cookies,
scratch gravy—
was it coffee?
Was it me?

Sitting right by you
on the couch where you read,
curled up at bedtime,
you scratching my head.

The farmer’s market
or tomatoes
with salt and black pepper?
Was it bacon grease,
or biscuits—
was it ice cream?
Something better?

Your hairspray,
that detergent,
potted plants on your porch?
The dogwoods,
raked leaves,
a clipped lawn,
your church?  

more flowers,
your picture,
a frame.

Held tears,
shared memories,
a box bearing
your name.

You’re gone and you’re not—
you’re there but you’re here.
Your things left behind,
your fragrance disappeared.

never captured,
not one
but the whole.

that scent—
something most like
your soul.

Friday, June 13, 2014

Your thing for His glory

Disclaimer: Before reading this post, you should know that I don't believe the career path I'm on is for everyone. We all have individual and unique callings, and I celebrate that! I also have a tremendous amount of respect for employees who serve their companies in excellence, as well as for those who persevere through non "dream jobs" in order to provide for their families. This blog is more of a reflection of my own journey and less of a call for everyone to quit their day jobs...but I DO encourage each one of you to take a "step of faith" in some area of your life, whatever that looks like for you.

. . .

I met someone new the other day, and of course the "what do you do?" question came up. When I first began freelancing, this question freaked me out. Because, well...I don't just do one thing. And until recently, I thought that might not be okay.

Got my diploma, don't got a clue.
"Pick one thing in life and stick with it forever." I've been failing at that concept for basically my whole life, which is why I decided to throw it out the window completely. For many people, however, it remains a very real mindset. The concept of choosing a major in college contributes to its potency, and leads to beliefs like, "Every job description on my resume must work in perfect progression, and every bullet point must make sense in relation to all the others." If those things were true, I would have the worst resume ever.

I've previously worked as a radio station intern, magazine intern, J. Crew sales assistant, English tutor in France, Miss Texas contestant (okay, not really a job, but...), and a newspaper staff writer. I currently work as an author, artist, blogger, journalist, web designer, content producer, marketing consultant, social media manager, brand revamper, and hair and makeup artist.While all of these things fall under the "creative" umbrella, there's nothing uniform about my resume. My former thoughts about that fact: Am I too all over the place? Should I consolidate my efforts? Do I need to stop doing art...forever?
The only job that required evening wear.

Now? I'm addicted to diversification. Here's why:

1. Every day is different. Some weeks my schedule is packed with back-to-back projects, and some weeks I'm able to have an extra long devotional, a nice morning workout, and maybe even some layout-by-the-pool time in the afternoon. Some days I'm working on producing web content, and some days I'm starting on a new painting commission. Sometimes it's art prints, sometimes it's a social media launch, sometimes it's brand consulting, and sometimes it's having the time to make a really fab dinner for my husband. If I have a new idea, I can pursue it. If I need to travel, I can do it. In a word, that's called freedom.

2. I'm not dependent on one source of income. Not a ton of writing projects this month? I'll do more painting. A web project with a client just concluded? I'll say "yes" to a request to do hair and makeup for a wedding. There's an ebb and flow to freelance life—but by working with more than one type of client, there's always a new opportunity to keep moving forward (and, you know, putting food on the table).

"Golden Girl"
3. I've met incredible people. From brides, to bridal designers, to event planners, to photographers, to magazine editors, to hair stylists, I've gotten to work with some truly amazing clients...and I've learned something from each of them. Some have encouraged me. Some have stretched me. Some have challenged me. Some have inspired me to try something new. All of them have grown my capabilities, expanded my reach, and paved the way for future opportunities and relationships.

4. I've become a business owner. When I first began freelancing, I thought I was still working for other people. Now, however, I see myself as the owner of the best kind of business I can imagine: my own! I absolutely love giving voice to someone's passion, pinpointing the personality of a brand, creating a beautiful piece of art for someone's home, and writing and marketing my own projects. Although still working in conjunction with and on behalf of other people, I've gained the valuable skill set of an entrepreneur. Think time and money management, PR and marketing, networking...and the freedom to adapt my offerings based on new ideas, market trends, and/or creative inspiration. Most importantly,

5.  I've had to trust the Lord to provide again and again and again. People can write all of the helpful articles they want, but there's really no road map to freelancing successfully. It's like going off grid, diving into the deep end, sailing uncharted waters, [pick a cliche and insert it here]. If you're a naturally born, um, control freak like me, the "element of surprise" aspect of this type of employment can be especially challenging. But it can also be the most rewarding. I think that's because faith is actually a job requirement.

"Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see." Hebrews 11:1, NLT

At the launch party for my book, Hitched in a Hurry.
I had one client when I began freelancing a year ago. ONE. I made almost no money, had no consistency in my (work) life to speak of, and spent more than a few days twiddling my thumbs and feeling absolutely worthless. I knew that the Lord had called me to leave my full-time job, and I knew that He'd given me express instructions to "use my talents to glorify Him." The only problem? I had absolutely no idea how to begin doing that...and unfortunately, had found so much of my identity in my work and accomplishments that I was on the verge of a major crisis.

So I started blogging. I wrote about the things the Lord was speaking into my heart, purely for the love of writing (AKA, no dollar signs attached). I took on painting commissions. I did a lot of creative thinking, planning, and dreaming. I freaked out and considered applying for full-time jobs again. I removed my finger from the panic button, told the Lord I trusted Him, and...all of the sudden, I had a published book and a rotating Rolodex of clients and projects that I was (and continue to be) completely passionate about. I have not gone about this journey perfectly, but I have experienced grace beyond measure as I've seen the Lord provide connections, opportunities, adventures, and yes, income beyond anything I could have asked for or imagined.

Life is too short to hold back, play it safe, and make fear-based decisions. I say that we go for it, whatever "it" is. That we stop caring about what other people will think, stop fretting about what might happen in the future, stop comparing our journeys and callings to those of other people, and step out in faith toward whatever God is calling us toward.

In short? Do your thing to His glory. There's nothing more fulfilling than that.

. . .

What thing have you been scared to try? What "step of faith" can you take to make it happen?

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Who are you living for?

Today's post is short and sweet...just a few thoughts on my mind I wanted to share before they slip away. (That's kind of a re-occurring, busy-ness induced problem I've been having lately—can anyone relate?)

"Who are you living for?"

That's the question that I think drives all of the other important questions—like, "What's your motive?" "What's your goal?" and "When is enough enough?"

Lately I've been tempted to live for others. And I don't mean that in a Mother Theresa, completely unselfish, serving others kind of way. I'm talking about basing my self-worth on the opinion of others and/or spending too much time thinking about what they're thinking about me. Am I pleasing them? Do they notice the work I've been doing? Do they see me as valuable? Am I proving myself to be an asset? Do they think I'm successful? So exhausting. PS: Social Media Syndrome—also known as "only posting images that make my life look perfect"—often folds into "living for others," too.

The danger: People have bad days, and they get upset, and they have expectations that we won't always be able to meet. Meaning as hard as we try to people-please, sometimes we're going to miss the mark. If our identity is rooted in the way other people perceive us, we're bound to go through mental and emotional anguish every time those people express disappointment in us...or don't comment as much as we thought they would on our Instagram posts. (Trust me, I've been there.)

At other times I realize I've been living for myself. Taking care of myself. Thinking about myself. Thinking about myself some more. Investing excessive amounts of energy into "growing my platform" (what does that even mean?), "building my brand," "developing my connections," "extending my reach,"and so on and so on and so on.

The danger: A self-centered lifestyle that eventually acts as a repellant to other people. General lack of energy. The distancing of friends. Fixation on controlling a future we'll never be able to see. Saying the words, "I'm a failure" when things don't go according to our plan.

So, so badly, I want to live for Christ. To die to myself daily. To care only about how He perceives me. To live my life according to His standards, go about my work on this earth without vain ambition, and minister and pour out to others without wondering what I'll get in return. To stop worrying about my future and caring so much about earthly outcomes and results. To remember that I can't take any accomplishments or praise or accolades with me when my time on this earth ends. To invest my time and attention on eternal things. To fix my eyes on Christ alone, and live for His glory instead of mine.

The benefit: Unshakeable identity and unwavering peace—neither of which have anything to do with my circumstances, my performance or the recognition I receive from others.

Please know that I'm a student here, not a teacher. I'm still learning how to re-focus the gaze of my heart on a daily basis...and this is my prayer for everyone else doing the same:

"And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God." Philippians 1:9-11

Monday, April 28, 2014

Vicarious Victories

I didn't expect to have a God appointment on Saturday morning. I thought I was just going to brunch with a Miss Texas friend and a fashion blogger I met through Instagram—and I dressed accordingly.

Black Audrey Hepburn flats. Leopard-print shorts. Graphic tee from France featuring Batman and a ton of sequins.

Just trust matches.

"Is that what you're wearing?" my husband asked. Not in a mean way. More of a "Hmm...interesting combo" -type thing.

I knew it was funky, but that was the point. I was meeting a FASHION BLOGGER (given name Chelsie). And a MISS TEXAS friend (otherwise known as Michelle). I knew they would both be wearing something completely amazing, and I wanted to make a good impression too. (What if they like my outfit so much they decide to blog about it?? Real thought.)

Within about 10 seconds of meeting up on the porch of the Company Cafe on Katy Trail, all of that pretense fell away. Spiritual conversation and mutual encouragement flowed easily between all three of us, allowing real things to take the place of first impression smiles and isn't-the-weather-so-great commentary.

"Coming from the industry I'm in, I should hate both of you," Chelsie said matter-of-factly.

And I thought, wow. Isn't that the truth?

In addition to being a fashion blogger, Chelsie is a celebrity makeup artist who flies that super-slick route between LA and New York. Michelle is the Director of Leadership Giving for United Way of Metropolitan Dallas and an all-around mover-and-shaker. We all feel that our callings have to do with writing, speaking, and generally making a global impact (obviously we're all fans of the slogan "dream big").

We should have been competing for the spotlight. Because only one woman can shine, right? That's what our culture says. Only one woman can rise to the top. Only one woman can have the most fans, the greatest circle of influence, the highest number of followers on Twitter and Instagram. Only one woman can wear the most put-together outfit, lay claim to the most impressive resume, and literally sweat glitter at the gym because she's THAT fabulous.

Those are all lies, of course. But ladies, don't our feelings and attitudes toward other women often reflect those dangerous sentiments?

We can't praise the achievement of another woman—that might diminish our own accomplishments. We can't applaud another woman's victory—that might make us seem defeated. We can't encourage another woman to pursue her dreams—our own ambitions might begin to pale in comparison. Most importantly, we can't celebrate with another woman when God has elevated her position, given her a platform, equipped her for ministry, blessed her beyond measure, and allowed His face to shine upon her—that would make us seem low, rejected, ill-equipped, overlooked, and completely insignificant.

Or would it?

. . .

"Yet the Spirit also rested on [Eldad and Medad], and they prophesied in the camp...Joshua son of Nun, who had been Moses' aide since youth, spoke up and said, 'Moses, my lord, stop them!' But Moses replied, 'Are you jealous for my sake? I wish that all the LORD's people were prophets and that the LORD would put His Spirit on them!' " —Numbers 11:26-30

Prior to this interaction, Moses had expressed to the Lord that he was tired, frustrated, and just plain over it. The Israelites wouldn't stop complaining—this time, it was about meat. Meat this, meat that. We hate manna. Manna is gross. For Moses, enough was enough.

"What have I done to displease You that You put the burden of all these people on me? Did I conceive all these people? Did I give them birth? Why do You tell me to carry them in my arms, as a nurse carries an infant...?" —Numbers 11:11-12

"It's too much, God," Moses basically goes on to say. "I need a little help here." And in His graciousness, God responds by anointing 70 Israelite elders with the Spirit to help Moses shoulder the weight of his calling.

"...I will take the Spirit that is on you and put the Spirit on them. They will help you carry the burden of the people so that you will not have to carry it alone." —Numbers 11:17

That's when Joshua freaks out. "Moses, you're the star!" he says (kind of). "If all of these guys start prophesying and get filled with the Spirit, you won't be special anymore. You should not be on board with this—tell them to cut it out!"

Oh, that I would respond to the favor of others with the humility of Moses.

"I wish that all the Lord's people were prophets," he says.

"I wish that all the Lord's people might experience intimacy with Christ, and global impact, and success, and television interviews, and Instagram followers, and blessings, and favor,"  I want to say.

Moses understood that God was God, and he was not. Moses understood that there was enough of God to go around. Moses understood that God's glory, and not his own, was paramount. Moses understood that his status in the Kingdom was not measured against the status of others. Moses understood that the empowerment of others would not pose a threat to or chip away at his own significance. Moses understood that he could no longer shoulder the burden of leadership alone, but that he in fact needed the Lord to equip other people in order to walk out his own calling.

. . .

I don't know about you, but when I'm experiencing a mountain-top moment I don't want to be alone. I want others to join around me in celebration of what the Lord has done. And because of that, I must learn how to celebrate others in kind.

Here's the truth: When we begrudge, envy, and/or resent the success of others, we only deplete ourselves of the energy it takes to pursue our own calling. But when we applaud and affirm the success of others? We share in their joy, are mutually encouraged, and vicariously victorious.

Who can you applaud today?
Karley with a K. Todos los derechos reservados. © Maira Gall.