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How To Walk Through Hard Times With the People You Love

kellibrownlee@me.com (Kelli B.) — Sat, 10 Jul 2021 17:47:43 GMT

How To Walk Through Hard Times With The People You Love

CASH APP, CASSEROLES & CONDOLENCES

I remember the way I felt, about 30 minutes after learning my father had passed away. After releasing a gut wrenching cry, holding my children closely, contacting my husband at work, and asking a friend to go to my mom’s--I felt a strange feeling.

I felt like I was having an outer body experience.

Even though my legs were moving and my mouth was talking, everything seemed slow and foggy.

I knew that as an only child, everything depended on me at that moment. I would have my time to grieve later, but at that moment, there were things that needed to be done.

As the calls, texts and questions began to pour in, I realized:

I did not have the emotional capacity to ask for help.

My heart was heavy. My mind was full. The last thing I needed or wanted to do was “ask for help”.

Maybe because I have friends that A.) know me well, B.) are good at caring for others, or C.) both of these.

Within an hour:

One friend brought deli sandwiches, fruit, and drinks for my family they knew would be coming in from all over.
One friend sent $500 via Cash App.
One friend emailed a Target gift card with a message that said, “Whatever you need. Get something you want, too.” in the subject line.
A neighbor texted, “The girls can stay with us tonight and we’ll bring dinner tomorrow.”
A friend texted, “Let me know what hotel you’d like to stay in and what day you need to be there. We’ll take care of it.”.

During my father’s visitation, one friend brought water and mints to my mom and I, every 30 minutes. She wiped our faces, told us when we should sit down and take a break, and even made us eat something.

When it comes to caring for others during a difficult time, don’t ask them to “let you know if they need anything”, just do something.

Please hear my heart on this. This is not meant to sound cold, ungrateful, or corrective. It’s just my experience. As someone who has been in a revolving door of difficult seasons over the last few years, I can only express what I’ve come to know.

When we expect those that are hurting to also ASK us for help, we may be placing a burden on their shoulders.

Here’s what I believe is the best way to care for someone who is grieving, going through a hard time, or in need.

Think. Pray. Do.

THINK about what YOU would need if you were in their circumstances. Think about the expenses, the emotional needs, and the other people in their lives that are impacted by whatever has taken place. Evaluate your relationship with that person and evaluate what would be appropriate for you to help with.

PRAY and ask the Holy Spirit for guidance. The Holy Spirit knows the person you want to help and can give you direction as to what can help them in that moment.

DO what you feel led to, and are able to do.

If you must ASK anything, ask “Is it ok if I bring you some dinner? Would it be helpful if I provided some gas cards?”.

But, truthfully, if you want to help; your help shouldn’t be dependent on the person’s willingness to ask - rather your willingness or desire to care for them at that moment.

Think. Pray. Do.

True compassion leads to action.

I want to say thank you to every person who has thought enough of my family, to do anything in our time of grief and struggle.

Meals.

Cards.

‘I love you.” texts.

The gift of a “getaway”.

It all means so much.

It all counts.

I’m so very grateful.

Once Upon a Time

kellibrownlee@me.com (Kelli B.) — Fri, 19 Feb 2021 12:34:39 GMT

Once Upon A Time..

My dad was a storyteller.

At night after I’d taken my bath and put on my pajamas, daddy would tuck me in my bed and then sit at the foot of it.

“ Once there was a little girl named Kelli, ” he’d begin.

“Kelli, like me?” I’d ask excitedly.

He’d put his finger to his mouth. “Shh, shh. Let me tell the story.”

He’d begin again.

“Once there was a little girl named Kelli - not Kelli Rose.”

I would laugh and he’d try his best not to.

His laugh is one of the things I miss the most.

When he laughed, his shoulders would shake and his laughter made his eyes squint.

It was as if his laughter filled him up to overflow.

Once, dad and I camped out in the backyard.

We bought a tent from Mr. Meredith at True Value Hardware, along with some sleeping bags, flashlights, and bunsen burners (which, by the way, we never used, and we ended up eating breakfast in the house the next morning).

As the blue sky began to turn dark, daddy and I marched out the back door to our spot under the tree in the backyard.

Daddy put up the tent while I did ballerina moves in the driveway. Mom watched us from the kitchen window shaking her head.

Once he finished putting up the tent, we climbed inside and sat on our sleeping bags.

“What are we gonna do?” I asked.

Daddy looked at me and said, “Once upon a time…” and I settled in.

He told me stories of “Ona cona poona wonas” (magic rocks that turned into fairies or little drummers - depending on the story.) He told me stories of him and his brother Billy (John) from when they were kids. He told me stories of kind people. He told me Bible stories, with a bit of creative license, that left me laughing.

I knew my daddy was getting ready to leave this earth when his stories began to slow. My visits involved us sitting quietly, watching the news or "Wheel of Fortune". On commercial breaks, I walked over and rubbed his hair then kissed his forehead. There weren’t any words left to be said.

He told me a story when he left me a voice message of him talking to my Aunt's dog Sammie, not realizing my voice mail was recording him.

He told me a story when he got to see the kids 3 days before he passed. I asked, “Daddy, are you happy?" Too weak to talk, he let a tear fall down his face and lifted his hand as if waving.

He told me a story as I drove for 80 minutes, the morning dad passed, to tell my mom the news in person. As I drove, I noticed the sky was filled with breathtaking hues of orange and purple.

He told me a story as I picked out his navy pinstripe suit, paisley pocket square, his favorite tie, and socks to match - his favorite suit to be worn one last time.

He told me a story when I found my senior picture in his wallet behind his library card, insurance card, and voter's registration card.

He’s been gone for a year and he’s still telling me a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Kelli Rose. She was my daughter and my friend. One day, when this life is over, she’ll see me again in the Promised Land. And we’ll live happily ever after.”

Rest on my daddy and friend.

I’ll keep telling your story

And writing mine.

Kelli Kinney Brownlee - 2021

Head Over Healed

kellibrownlee@me.com (Kelli B.) — Mon, 15 Feb 2021 21:55:54 GMT

Head Over Healed

I love movies. No, really. I’d sometimes rather watch a movie than take a walk, go out with friends, or even do one of those "Painting with a Twist" thing-a-ma-jigs. Most people assume I am a full on extrovert because of my big smile, random inclination to break into song and dance and my loud and slightly obnoxious laugh. However, the truth is I thoroughly enjoy my own company. I am a homebody and I recharge best at home or in a movie theater with a bin of popcorn (buttered and lightly salted of course), and peanut M&Ms close by.

When I was growing up, I could often be found sitting on the floor in our TV room sprawled out on a blanket, ready to watch a movie with my best friend - my dad. He’d gently pop the VHS tape in, turn out the lights and turn up the volume to a level that usually caused my mom to yell from upstairs, “Butchie, please turn it down!”

One of my favorite movies, which still is to this day, was “Return to Oz.” (I’m pretty sure I just heard a collective “Never heard of it...”) You know, the dark, odd, borderline horror sequel of the classic film, “The Wizard of Oz”? Poor Dorothy Gayle is sent to a psychiatric hospital for shock treatment when she can’t seem to stop talking about her friends in OZ. Dorothy magically wakes up in OZ after a storm (imagine that) and the madness begins (again).

During one of Dorothy’s stops, on her way to rescue her friend King Scarecrow, she encounters a band of outcasts called, "The Wheelies" and a very strange princess/queen of sorts named "MOMBI". I'm emphasizing her name, because Mombi not only frightened me as a child, but still haunts me as an adult as well. You see, Mombi somehow stole the heads of beautiful women in OZ and kept them stored on shelves. At her leisure, she added a magic “powder of life” to the heads and was able to turn into whomever she chose at that moment.

Now, Mombi is a fictional character in what most people consider to be a sub-par movie. For years, though, the Holy Spirit has used the idea of Mombi as a warning and boundary for me.

You see, Mombi was so unhappy and dissatisfied with who she was that it created a root of jealousy and evil within her. Those things compelled her to live as someone else and violently oppose anyone who tried to stop her. She was so consumed by her own insecurities, that she didn’t even care that the kingdom she was supposedly ruling was run down, broken and cold. Her image mattered more than anything else.

Have you ever been there? Have you ever been in a place where you are so unhappy with yourself, or so driven by the opinions of others that you changed your appearance, opinions and persona to be accepted? Have you ever been so determined to “appear” to have it all together, that you’re unaware of how much things have fallen apart around you?

Psalm 51:6 (the Passion translation) says : “I know that you delight to set your truth deep in my spirit. So come into the hidden places of my heart and teach me wisdom.”

One of the keys to breaking the cycle of pretending and comparison is to invite God into the hidden places and receive His delight.

Friends, we have become so good at hiding and putting on facades that after a while, we don’t even remember who we really are. We fill the spaces of our hearts with so many illusions that we can’t see or appreciate the truth of what’s real.Mombi was miserable. Her kingdom was also miserable, but in the end those things didn't matter. She was so prideful and lost that she sold her soul to protect the lie.

If you can relate to this, in even a small way, I encourage you to do the following :
- Ask God to show you the REAL you.
- Break up with any lie or illusion that compels you to pretend.
- Open your eyes and acknowledge the areas in your life which are falling apart.

In the end, Mombi ended up being dragged away in chains and imprisoned - with her own, REAL head. The reality is, all the appearances she was trying to keep up, and charades, ended up as bondage and chains. Those things don’t add anything but misery to our lives. God didn’t send Jesus just to save you from misery.

God’s promise for your life is VICTORY and anything less is an identity forged in an illusion.

Put your HEAD BACK ON, and GET HEALED.

Kelli Kinney Brownlee - 2021

Who's in Your Corner?!

kellibrownlee@me.com (Kelli B.) — Fri, 12 Feb 2021 14:51:53 GMT

Who's in Your Corner?

Who’s in Your Corner?!

I love sports. I find the idea of racing towards a goal with a ball in your hand or at the tip of your foot, gliding through opponents with quick twists and turns - fascinating. I’m pretty certain I started having blood pressure issues as a teenager. I remember the way, when I was on the soccer field, adrenaline would pump through my body in a way that made me feel very much alive and on the verge of fainting from exhaustion.

One sport I’m not too fond of is BOXING. Much respect to the greats like Ali and Tommy Hearns, but I can’t get with it. I’ve been punched in the gut and face before and trust me when I say the pain is nothing I’d like to voluntarily sign up for. (I hit her back by the way.)

I find, at times, life can be like a boxing ring. Instead of one opponent, we face off against various foes ranging in strength and size.

When life knocks you down, who’s in your corner? Who’s the person(s) who wipe your brow, shove a jug of water in your hand, shout truths and encouragement in your ear, then shove you back in the ring all the while shouting, “You can do this!”?

I needed people like that in order to put this website up. I needed people who listened to my insecurities and then said, “Who does God say you are?” What promises did God make over your life?” What did God ask you to do?” They wiped my brow, shoved a jug of water in my hand and pushed me back into the ring.

Even the apostle Paul thanked the Philippians for their financial support and encouragement. He said, “For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. Even so, you have done well to share with me in my present difficulty.” (Phil 4:13-14 NLT)

We know God has given us access to HIS strength through Jesus. Even so, he often uses people in our daily lives to remind us who we are in Him, wipe our brow and send us back out into the ring to get the job done.

Who’s in your corner?

Kelli Kinney Brownlee - 2021

kkbc2e4eb4f737e207d22ea8d132d789d0d1a1dd659

How To Walk Through Hard Times With the People You Love

How To Walk Through Hard Times With The People You Love

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Once Upon a Time

Once Upon A Time..

Head Over Healed

Head Over Healed

Who's in Your Corner?!

Who's in Your Corner?