This is How We’ll Make It

notes on finding hope one day at a time

Aug 07, 2024

Welcome to Walk & Talk, my monthly offering to share stories, inspiration, and hope. I’m Kim Knowle-Zeller, mama, pastor, and writer. I’ve lived in West Africa and one summer hiked 500 miles across Spain, and now I call Cole Camp, MO home with my husband, two children, dog, and cat. I love to walk, talk, and share stories. Thanks for being here!

This is how we’ll make it1

We’ll get up, again
turn the news down
and turn up the laughter
the knock-knock jokes that have no punch line
but bring fits of giggles nonetheless.
We’ll make beds and breakfast
pack lunches and feed the animals.
We’ll make a casserole and drop it with a note to a friend
Thinking of you.
We’ll make bread and cookies
deliver to the family with a new baby
Welcome to the world, sweet one.

This is how we’ll make it
with phone calls and hand-written notes
children’s scribbles, a cascade of rainbows and hearts.
We’ll open doors and windows
listen to birdsong
watch the cardinal perch on the evergreen bush
the bees and butterflies hungry for nectar,
nature reminding us gently that seasons come and go.
We’ll plant flowers and scatter seeds
water the vegetables and pray for fruit.
We’ll weed and till and weed some more
we won’t give up on that tiny bean shoot
and marvel at the cucumber vine
clinging to the trellis.
We’ll gorge ourselves on fresh tomatoes
bag them for neighbors
make homemade lemonade to parch our thirst.

This is how we’ll make it
with a chorus of:
Thank you.
I love you.
You’re not alone.
Let me help.
We’re in this together.
We’ll put one foot in front of the other
we’ll cling to our prayers as if our lives depended on them,
as if our hope for the world depended on them.

This is how we’ll make it.

Something else to share

I’m honored to have an essay featured on Fathom that shares about mental health, friendship and asking hard questions. If you read anything of mine, this may be the most important.

“But that day, amidst the blazing sun, one question burned inside me. I wanted to ask. I needed to ask. But the words sat lodged in the back of my throat. The question we asked each other months ago under the security of the church building, the question we asked with a smile on our faces trying to ease the awkwardness we felt. That question that needed to be asked under the safety of the pool canopy confessional, but I couldn’t get it out. It raced in my mind but never out of my mouth: Are you thinking of hurting yourself?”

Read the rest here: I wanted to ask, I needed to ask.

What I’m Reading:

Go as a River by Shelley Read was my local book club pick and everyone adored this story of strength and resilience. From the cover: This stunning debut explores what it means to lead your life as if it were a river--gathering and flowing, finding a way forward even when a river is dammed.
How to Age Disgracefully by Clare Pooley was a delight! A story about finding friends in unlikely places at any age.

What I’m Reading with the Kids:

Dewey the Library Cat: A True Story by Vicki Myron and Bret Witter. My whole family loves this story about a lost cat found by a local library in Iowa, and how he transformed the community.

I had plans this summer for my kids’ learning. I’m talking about read-alouds to start the day and math work books and fun writing together. I kept reading about the “summer slide” and was determined not to have that be our reality. Even before the last day of school, my fears for what my kids could lose over their break was at the forefront of my mind. I dreamed about trips to the library and story times and summer reading programs. I was grateful for the math and writing packet my son’s kindergarten teacher sent home. I had hopes of science experiments and nature hikes. Lots of coloring and artwork.

Clearly, I was forgetting what summer actually looks like in our day-to-day lives.

Here we are in August and I can count the number of workbook pages my kids have done on one hand. Instead, we’ve been perfecting our underwater flips at the pool, meeting friends for picnics, and harvesting our cucumbers and tomatoes.

Our neighbor's mother died this summer. The kids took it upon themselves to give our friend Shirley a big hug when they saw her. They were also adamant that they attend the funeral. Putting on a dress, my daughter said to me: “I want to support Shirley.”

I almost forgot until that moment that one of the most important lessons I want my children to learn is year-round: kindness.

Some lessons just can’t be taught from a workbook. Thankfully, they are no less important.

P.S. I have a favor for those of you who have read The Beauty of Motherhood. Would you be willing to write an Amazon review? They are so helpful for getting others to know about our book! Anyone can review on Amazon whether you’ve bought the book from them or not. Thank you!