Kaity Kasper


Posts in faith journey
Please Remember

Please listen to me and try to understand.  As difficult as that may be.  Please try to understand that what is happening is not the end.  It is only just the beginning. 

Yes, I am talking to you.  You who just received the terrifying diagnosis.  You who has finally surrendered power over your addiction.  You whose child is ill, whose parent is dying, whose best friend suddenly passed away.  You who are divorcing the partner you can’t imagine life without.  You who can no longer hide your sexuality, your true gender identity, your heritage.  You who is sunk in a deep depression and can’t quite see the way out.

I know it seems dark right now. 

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I have been baptized four times in my life.

The first time was in the Catholic Church.  I was under a year old and I don’t remember much about it.  I’ve seen the white gown I wore and a handful of pictures of my dad with incredible sideburns and a brown corduroy sport coat.  But I don’t remember the water or if there was music or what it was that my godparents (who I also don’t remember) promised to do. 

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Theology Of Enough

“Tell me again what happened to the bed?”

We were settling into the coffee shop, just a handful of hours after his plane finally landed – two days plus several hours later than expected.  When he visits, my brother tends to occupy the guest room.  On the way home from the airport, in the wee hours of the night, I had quickly broken the news that the guest room no longer existed.

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faith journeyKaity Kasper
Healing Trip #3 - Big Sky, Montana

“Its like I had to come here for it to start to heal,” I tell him, his hands on my shoulders, eyes locked on mine.  “Like my heart broke into millions of tiny pieces and I had to come here for it to figure out how to mend, because as it mends its going to be bigger.  And there is only enough room for it to heal so big in a place like this, with so much room.”

I paused my run-on-sentence-verbal-vomit long enough to take a half-second breath before finally asking him, “Does that make sense?”

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Why 2016 Is Like Organic Chemistry (Or Why I Don't Hate This Year)

“Do you remember last year?” I asked him as we sat on yet another bench. 

I was thinking back to December 26, 2015.  I had done one of the most difficult, most right, things I had ever done the evening before.  Less than 24 hours later I had found myself sitting barefoot beside him on a bench – my eyes dry and red from too many tears and my emotional state utterly depleted from the events of the day before. 

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