What Do You Do?


Favorite Mug.

Please tell me that you find yourself in the sunshine on this leap day. I hope your coffee was delicious and that you didn’t lock your keys in your car or spill chili across your kitchen. Yesterday was so stormy that it tried to blow my little car off the freeway and made one of my favorite brunch places extremely drafty. The sunlight streaming in my living room is a welcome change.

What things in your life are like the morning sunlight pouring in the windows after a hellish storm?



Is it a passionate speaker reminding you of God’s promises?

Hazelnut latte when you normally order vanilla?

Sitting on a bench at Boulevard Park when a single bird flies by?


Favorite spot.

I’ve let go of a lot this past year. But letting go requires opening your hands and extending them, ready and waiting for the next thing. You don’t just say goodbye to whatever you were grasping at, you also have to acknowledge the greeting of something new.

Yesterday at church someone asked “What do you do?”

What do I do? I work at a cake shop. I’m married. I cook when I occasionally feel inspired. I paint. I love Jesus

But for several seconds, all I could think was “I’m Katrina. My identity isn’t in what I do or accomplish.”(Which my husband reminds me of frequently). Granted, questions about work and hobbies are great ways to get to know someone but as far as sculpting your own personal identity they aren’t much help because they fluctuate and change.


Favorite painting recently.

Build your life on something solid and firm so that when the storm comes, the waves might take away your house, your dog, and your dreams but the foundation stands. You have something left to rebuild upon. When the last year stripped away my expectations…I was left with a lot of questions. Where will I live? What do I do without my Mom? What does it mean to be wife? Who can I trust and lean on? But a few things stayed constant, and they served as an anchor when each wave hit. You might be holding on for dear life, but when things subside you can collect the scraps and start again.



You’re my favorite.




(For the days you feel British).



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