A letter to future Kenz

Maybe you go by MacKenzie now, wow you have grown. I don’t know when your eyes are meeting these words, and I’m not sure which season of life you are in, but I trust the lord will remind you of this letter when you need it most. Hi my gal, it’s me, 25 year old you, sitting in a green chair with an instant coffee in the sticker covered yeti, overlooking the Dominican Republic mountains. Thinking endlessly about you. 

I wonder a lot of things Kenz. Does your heart still hurt? Does your spirit still long for stable footing and a grounding foundation? I sit in tears thinking of the next promise Papa fulfilled. I know it must have been breathtaking. Tell me MacKenzie, are you happy? Did it all come true? The dreams? 

I hope you are sitting with a warm cup of black hazelnut coffee on a comfy old couch somewhere overlooking a beautiful life that you deserve. Do you finally know you deserve one by the way? I pray my gal. I pray you stand in the light of Papa’s face each and every day and you finally see the good that has accumulated during all the years of the hard and forestly empty seeming years. 

I pray you finally get to taste the fruit of all of it. I pray you still carry the joy you carried in all the small things. Do you still love watching the sun greet the sky? Or when the air changes in temperature when the glow soaks the trees at first day break? I even wonder if you’re wearing the same watercolor stained Ron Jon hoodie you lived in years ago. You are a simple one, I pray you found the beauty in your own echo and stopped screaming in the tones of those you begged for. 

I hope you still keep pens in your bun when you’re writing, I hope you still have a puka shell on your body, somewhere. I hope you didn’t let growing up change all the little quirks. Like saving every sticker you find on an apple, or dancing around in public to whatever music is flowing through the headphones. I hope there are parts of you, you haven’t died to, to fit some kind of mold, you know? 

If you haven’t yet Kenz, go do a stand up show, your dreams aren’t silly, you can do it. I believe in you. I always have, even when it seemed like I was disappointed in you, I promise. I pray your storehouse is full of grace and fun. I hope it’s full of precious love and comfort. I hope you finally gathered how rare you are. How unique your heart is and how purely you love. 

You’re so easy to hope in because there is so much God and I want for you, things you deserve. Whatever you are doing, whatever job you wake up to, whether or not you wake up to someone, even if there aren’t little feet running on the wood floors yet, I hope you finally understand the power of your whisper and you trust Abba to cast it to the heavens. 

I love you Kenz, Always.