What More Do You Want

"What more do you want from God?" Neal asked the congregation. We all came from very different backgrounds united only in the Lord.

"¿Qué más quiere de Dios?" Manolo translated.

I didn't need to wait for the translation before I began making a mental list of things I wanted from God. All selfish things, too. I was in Nicaragua and still had an out-standing balance on my trip. I had applied to five graduate schools and was still hoping for acceptances. I was hoping to head to China in the summer and was waiting for those pieces to fall into place.

"He's already give you Jesus." Neal's words slapped my list-making face. I needed to hear them again.

"Él ya te dio Jesús."

What more can I want from God when He's already give me the best He can: His Son. He's already given me all that I need, and it's called grace. He's engraved my name on the palm of His hand, and I'm asking for money.  He's given me purpose, hope, and a future and there I sat in an uncomfortable Nicaraguan folding chair asking for more.

I felt naked, like my selfish, dirty list had been broadcast by the broken LCD projector. In a way, they were. They were available for One to know.

I like to think God chuckled when He watched me frantically try to erase them, delete them, unthink them.

I gave up on my list that day. I took peace in Abba giving me His Son. What more could I ever need or dare to want?

Days like today it's easy to start making a list again. I want this job interview to go well. I want to see her joy and her smile on this earth once again. I want reassurance that God truly is good and in control.

I want everyone to know the hope we all have in Jesus. Jesús. 耶稣.

I want all of God's children to know how loved they are by their Father. I want them to know forgiveness as intimately as I do. To know they don't need any more than that.

Abba, use me to reach Your people. May my life show Your love today and every day. In the States and across the world. When things go well and when dreams aren't achieved. Lord, let my love for You be contagious. When people see me may they have no choice but to love You more. Draw them into Your loving arms, Lord. May they know that no matter what life brings, Jesus is enough. Our greatest need has been satisfied. Thank You for Jesus. Teach me to remember that He is enough, always more than enough.

This is my prayer. My hope. My desire.

<>< Katie

In the Arms of the Father

The plane was preparing to land and the man across the aisle from me frantically fastened his toddler back into the window seat. The little girl began to whimper.

"Shh, shhhh, shhhh," the man said.

The girl whimpered more. The shushing wasn't working. Eventually the man unbuckled the child and pulled her into his lap.

The whimpering stopped. The child was no longer afraid. She was in her daddy's arms.

That's who I want to be: the little girl perfectly content my Heavenly Daddy's arms.

Even when I don't know where my next paycheck is coming from. Even when I don't know when I'll get to see my friends (read: family) again.

Are you willing to curl up in the lap of your Abba Father?

Even when finals are hard. Even when your kids are disobedient. Even when you're not sure if you'll be able to pay for the avocados to make the guacamole you promised. Even when life is hard.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!" 1 John 3:1a NIV

I pray in marker.

Putting prayers on paper prevents me from getting distracted (raise your hand if you have the attention span of a butterfly when praying). It's childish and messy to use a thin-line Crayola on college-ruled paper. It is good.

Prayer is messy. Life is messy.

Like a child whose hands are more colorful than the paper, I stretch them up to my Daddy and let Him shush me with His perfect love.

"The LORD your God is with you,
He is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
He will quiet you with his love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.”
Zephaniah 3:17 NIV

Just as the daddy on the airplane cared for his little girl, all the more will my Heavenly Daddy care for me (and you).

Even through our childish fits about things not going our way. Even through our crying and panicking when there is nothing to fear.

Take a seat in His lap, stretch your marker-hands to the sky, let Him hold you, His child. Take peace and comfort in His love.

I do.

Love,
<>< Katie

The Most Holy Place

During Bible study one girl made the comment that she is always blown away by the tearing of the temple curtain. Another admitted she was unfamiliar with that aspect of the story of Jesus's death and resurrection.

In ancient Jewish temples, there were different areas where people were permitted or prohibited from traveling based on their religion, gender, and profession.

The Most Holy Place was the most-restrictive area of the temple where only the rabbi was allowed and only once a year on The Day of Atonement. This was so strict that when the rabbi entered The Most Holy Place to make the annual sacrifice, he was required to bathe himself, wear specific linen garments prior to entering and then remove them and re-bathe upon his departure.

The Most Holy Place was considered to be the very presence of God. (Leviticus 16)

When Christ breathed His final breath on the cross, the thick curtain separating The Most Holy Place from the rest of the tabernacle was torn into two.

"Then Jesus shouted out again, and He released His spirit. At that moment the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, rocks split apart, and tombs opened. The bodies of many godly men and women who had died were raised from the dead. They left the cemetery after Jesus’ resurrection, went into the holy city of Jerusalem, and appeared to many people." Matthew 27:50-53 NLT

"Then Jesus uttered another loud cry and breathed His last. And the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. When the Roman officer who stood facing Him saw how He had died, he exclaimed, 'This man truly was the Son of God!'” Mark 15:37-39 NLT

"By this time it was about noon, and darkness fell across the whole land until three o'clock. The light from the sun was gone. And suddenly, the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn down the middle. Then Jesus shouted, 'Father, I entrust My spirit into Your hands!' And with those words, He breathed His last breath." Luke 23:44-46 NLT

There's a lot going on. It's easy to miss. I mean, the Messiah is dead, hello! Roman soldiers are declaring Him the Son of God, saints are being raised, there's a huge earthquake, and it's dark in the middle of the afternoon. Who cares about some curtain way over in the temple tearing?

I do.

With the removal of the curtain, we are able to enter into the presence of the Lord. We are invited, welcomed, and encouraged go to before God directly. No longer do we need a mediator, a rabbi, a go-between.

As His beloved sons and daughters, we are ushered directly into the presence of our Abba Father. Our harsh words, our love, our fears, our praise, our frustrations are spoken straight to Him.

I tend to take this for granted. And today I am especially grateful for it. I am once again blown away by the significance of a temple curtain, an Old Testament regulation, ripped to shreds. For you. For me.

Excuse me now as I, a Gentile woman, enter into The Most Holy Place.

<>< Katie

The Cup

Something crunches beneath my tires as I parallel park outside of a Christian bookstore. Coming around to pay the meter, I see the crunching came from what used to be a coffee cup that is now smashed to smithereens. Clearly, I was not the first one to run it over.

"You alone hold my broken cup."

I can't help but smile at the irony of the moment. Over coffee a few days before, I had a conversation about (among other things) parking meters, Christian books, and cracked cups.

"You alone hold my broken cup. My heart's so dusty and dry."

Two days earlier I stood in the audience and listened to singer/songwriter Peder Eide talk about cracked cups.

We all have cups. God pours out love, affirmation, encouragement intending to fill our cup until it overflows. Yet fear, abandonment, rejection, etc. have cracked our cups. Some cracks are bigger than others yet still the goodness of God leaks out and the cup never overflows. This is not what God intended.

"I'll ache 'til You make me whole."

As an audience, we extended our hand-cups into the air, handing them to our Abba Father like a small child hands a broken object to a parent. Individually we identified a specific crack and asked Him to fix it.

"Abba, this belongs to You."

I had just spent the last hour closely examining the multiple cracks in my cup. The cracks that are causing fast leaks and those that are slower. The causes of the cracks and the repercussions of them. The need for the Lord to repair the cracks and fill my cup.

"Abba, this belongs to You. This belongs to You, Abba Father."

Mending takes time, especially when your cup has been run over... twice.  Especially when the cause of the cracks lead to multiple, "Oh, Honey"s.  Yet when you, when I, lift our broken cups before the Lord, He graciously repairs them and pours into them until they are overflowing.  He fills them until it's not the former cracks or even the cup itself that can be seen but rather His love pouring over the edges.

"I thirst for You, Jesus, fill me up!"

<>< Katie

Lyrics from "Make Me Whole" and "Abba, I Belong to You" by Peder Eide.

Quality Time

As my week back home in Baptist Country was drawing to a close, I pondered who I had gotten to see for a substantial amount of time and who I wanted to spend more time with.

The friends I am closest to, naturally, fit into the "I want more time!" category. But I began to wonder, how much more time did I want? If life and other obligations were no object, how much time would be sufficient with them?

Forever.

I wanted to stay in their apartment forever.  I wanted to sit in their offices and chat days away.  I wanted to never ever leave again.

Of course, an infinite amount of time with my friends would be fun.

But I decided that's what kind of relationship I want with the Lord. I want to lock myself in the prayer room and never come out. I want to sit at His feet and never move. I want to rest on the chest of my Abba Father.

Forever.

<>< Katie

A Run in the Park

My family and I used to go to Lifest for the bands.  Hours were spent circling artist names in the program and making a strategic plan of where we needed to be and when.  Unfortunately for me, long gone are the years when I spent five days running from stage to stage, from mosh pit to lawn chair, from merch table to meet and greet line.

This past opening night of Lifest we got caught in the madness where the one-lane road through the park became a parking lot.  The only show I wanted to see all evening was to start in four minutes.  So still in the holding pattern at the park's entrance, I abandoned my family and our minivan.  I began to walk with a purpose towards a party with a purpose.  It took me fifteen minutes to walk from the park entrance to the fairgrounds entrance (in case you ever need to know).

Fifteen minutes is long time to repeatedly glance at your watch and realize you're missing the only show you wanted to see that day.  It's also a long time to question if you're approaching with the right heart.

Even if I miss my show, will tonight still be worth it?  Am I willing to hear from the Lord through a speaker I've never heard of, a band whose CD I have never purchased?  Am I here for an artist, a speaker, or am I here for the Lord?

Valid questions to take my mind off of the ticking minutes.

A fifteen minute jog through the park, thirteen minutes in line to exchange my ticket for a wristband, and I finally made it to the Grandstand as Peder Eide was wrapping up "Yes, Lord" and beginning a new song, "We are Not Orphans."  A new, new song.  So new the CD it's on won't be released until July 15th.  Peder has personally told me about this song twice, but I've been waiting a year to hear it.

A year.  No embellishing.

I thought I was late.  Twenty-three minutes late, to be exact.  Twenty-three minutes late to a forty minute show.

I wasn't.  I was right on time.  Sure, I missed the first twenty-three minutes that I would have thoroughly enjoyed, but I was right on time to hear the song I had been anxiously awaiting.

It was a beautiful moment.

"I haven't forgotten.  Welcome to Lifest.  We've been waiting for you," the Lord whispered to me.

It might have taken twenty-three minutes of anxiety, but once again I could honestly proclaim, "God, I'm all in.  I'm here for You.  Not the artists, not the speakers, not the expo center, not the camaraderie.  I'm here for YOU!" 

What a wonderful feeling that is!

When's the last time you spent fifteen minutes running through a (figurative) park adjusting the focus of your heart?  When's the last time you let your Abba Father sing over you and remind you of His goodness?  He's waiting.

"For the Lord your God is living among you.
He is a mighty savior.
He will take delight in you with gladness.
With his love, he will calm all your fears.
He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
Zephaniah 3:17 NLT

Moving Mountains & What If Questions

During church, we were doing an illustration about moving mountains.
"God will move the mountain if we're willing to put in our shovel," Pastor Rob explained.

To demonstrate this, the entire congregation got up in an unorganized communion-style line and proceeded to the front where we used a playground shovel to move some sand from a litter-box like mountain to a new box.  It was actually really powerful.

While we were in line, out of my peripheral vision I saw this kid flailing.  I didn't think much of it because I grew up in a church with a lot of (sometimes unruly) kids.  You learn to ignore them.

"Katie."

I turned.  Those flailing legs belonged to my favorite six year old.  When I turned and opened my arms, my buddy took a leap of faith and jumped into my arms.  I talked to him a bit as we walked to the front of the church, but he wasn't interested in conversation.  He just wanted to be held.

I think it's illegal to walk like a normal person when you are carrying a child.  We danced down the aisle.  Yes, I danced in a Baptist church.  And I didn't care what everyone else thought.  I was focused on my buddy.

We got to the front of the church and I shifted him to my right hip.  He shoveled his sand, and I did the same awkwardly with my left (nondominant) hand.

I went back to my seat, (temporarily) kidnapping Buddy.  He worshipped with us for the rest of the service.  I don't know that I've ever worshipped with a young child without his/her parents in the same pew.  It was weird.  Cool weird!

After church, our "Self Imposed Minster of Coffee" caught me.
SIMC: I saw you got yourself a child today.
Katie: I did!
SIMC: Where'd he come from?
Katie: He kind fell from the sky and into my arms.
SIMC: No, really, whose kid was he?

What if we were willing to take a leap of faith and jump into the arms of God? 
What if we just allowed our Abba Father to hold us, to carry us?
What if we danced like no one was watching?
What if no opinions mattered except for the Lord's?
What if we were willing to be used to move mountains, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable?
What if we shared our pew with others, even if it's a bit strange?
What if our posture and attitude change with God's presence in our lives?

When I was carrying my buddy, I no longer mattered.  Everyone wanted to know where the random kid came from.  As a Christian, I no longer matter.  I want everyone to know about God.

Going from "Katie the college student" to "Katie the college student carrying a random child" was an obvious change.  Is the change from "Katie that girl" to "God's daughter Katie" as obvious?  What if people saw that kind of change in me?  What if they asked where it came from? 

It fell from the sky.  It was all God.
<>< Katie

Words are my Friends

We interrupt this program to bring you some important information...
First off, I got sick of the dots.  What do you think of the new page?  I'm still not completely happy with it.
Secondly, I can't find spell check on this new blogger.  Five points if you can tell me where it is.
Thirdly, I had already written this blog when I heard this quote.  It needs to be shared.

"It doesn't matter what you've heard, impossible is not a word. It's just a reason for someone not to try." - Kutless in their song "What Faith Can Do"

And now back to your feature presentation...

I don't think I'm alone in this, but to me words have connections. Typically it's the first time I heard/understood them but it's also when a word is very well used that it forms an association in my brain.  Some of them were teacher-enforced (Prussia: big army), but most of them aren't.

Here are some examples:

• "Gregarious" will forever be associated with my dad's friend Greg who kept talking, preventing Dad from helping me study for my 9th grade vocabulary test.
• "Gumption" will always remind me of a homeless man requesting a fish sandwich.
• "Vulnerable" always takes me back to 8th grade history when we were forced to memorize "Vulnerable: exposed or unprotected."
• "Verbose" is my former headmaster.
• "Vex" is what my flying monkey does to Bob.

Do you have words that are only associated with God?  Besides the typical church-y words like "holy" and "divine" I can't think of any off of the top of my head.  I'm sure there are some, so I'll keep thinking.

Some words have connections, and some people have favorite words.  We all know Melissa loves "plethora" and "fruition," but what about everyone else?  Personally, I'm always looking for a great excuse to use the word "brouhaha."  Mark (the mortician) loves the word "ointment."  Most of my school friends like to hear me say words like "Chicago" and "pansy" because they emphasize my accent.  Five points to anyone (who isn't Natalie) that can correctly use the word "perspicacity" without looking it up.  Do you have a favorite word?

The psalmist did.  In Psalm 75 he(?) admits God's name is his favorite word.

"We thank You, God, we thank You.  Your name is our favorite word, Your mighty works are all we talk about." (Ps. 75:1 MSG)

Does this verse ring true in your life?  Is God's Name your favorite word?  Is it even a part of your active vocabulary?  What is your favorite name for Him?

In my Bible (yes, the Message today, sorry) it doesn't say which name for God is used here.  My guess would be "Elohim."  Personally, that's not my favorite name for God.  I'm a bit partial to "Abba" or the Aramaic for "Daddy." 

Just like in different situations we need different words because of their associations and connotations, at different points in our life we need names for God.  What name do you need today?

<>< Katie

Snow Church

In my entire life, I have only missed church twice due to weather. Both of them were because it would not have been safe for us to drive to church, never because church was cancelled. My church has a motto, "Church does not have a snowday. If the service is schedule to happen, it will come to fruition. It's up to you to decide whether it is safe for you to come to church or not. We will be here." We've even had pastors spend the night at church to make sure the service would happen.

My church at school doesn't follow this same mantra. Yesterday I received an email,

In the least surprising news of the day, church services have been cancelled for tomorrow. Be safe and please let me know if you have some special need that the deacons of the church might be able to help with (especially if someone finds themselves without power, heat, etc.).

Huh? Most of my friends received similar messages from their churches. At dinner, we decided we needed to take matters into our own hands and made an executive decision to have our own church service. When there's no church, come to to Snow Church. (please read that sentence aloud)

What started out as a bizarre idea for our apartment and the guys' apartment to get together to share life turned into an epic worship service where over sixty people braved the ice-covered sidewalks and slid in to worship. There were no microphones, no sound system, no sermon... the only real plan was to be done in an hour.

An hour and a half later, we all dismissed and slid across campus to lunch. That unplanned, pure worship was phenomenal. An acoustic guitar started us off with a few worship songs and we ended the day with a piano-led hymn. In the middle, we opened up the floor for anyone led to share: sing, talk about God, pray, read scripture, share a testimony, etc. I was prepared to share about the falling snow but the opportunity never presented itself and I don't regret that. Instead, Snow Church embraced the latest push on campus to be transparent.

I love being in a community where we can be vulnerable and share our pasts and be open about challenges of sexual abuse, pornography additions, suicidal intentions, drug use, abortion... The list goes on. I love being in a community where we can put aside these histories and view each other with compassion and love. I love being in a community that even when we represent a plethora of different denominations we can be united as one body. I love being in a community where even snow and ice cannot keep us from gathering together and worshipping our God.

Coming off of Celebration Week, we would not let satan have our Sunday morning and sixty-some brothers and sisters in Christ united as one and praised our Abba Father.

I think it's safe to say Snow Church was epic!
<>< Katie

"For where two or three come together in My Name, there am I with them." -Matthew 18:20

Abba, I Belong to You

In Aramaic, the word Abba is an intimate word that means Papa or Daddy. When I saw Peder Eide in concert last summer, I heard his song "Abba, I Belong to You" for the first time. He made the energetic audience sit down and take a pause while we sang to our Daddy.

Since I hear them on my iPod, on the radio, at church, and everywhere I go, worship songs so quickly become just another song. It's refreshing to know I'm singing to Jesus all of the time and cusses aren't slipping out if I'm not playing attention while I sing, but that's not enough. All too often I'm singing to God without paying any attention to the lyrics. I promised myself I'd not do that with "Abba, I Belong to You." Now, whenever I hear it, I stop what I'm doing and give those three minutes to God. If I'm driving, sometimes I even pull over. It's a pretty simple song but touching none the less. Read the lyrics.

"Abba, I Belong to You" by Peder Eide

Abba, I belong to You.
I belong to You,
Abba, Father.
Abba, I belong to You.
I belong to You.
Abba, Father, God.

I kneel now,
and feel how I felt You before.
This pausing is causing my heart to explore
Why when I'm weary so often you seem far away
Still I will say:

Abba, I belong to You.
I belong to You.
Abba, Father.
Abba, I belong to You,
I belong to You.
Abba, Father, God.

What I feel is less real than all that You say.
You told me, You'd hold me through all of my days.
So though my spirit is tossing and turning about
Still there's no doubt:

Abba, I belong to You
I belong to You.
Abba, Father.
Abba, I belong to You,
I belong to You.
Abba, Father, God.

Abba, I belong to You.
I belong to You.
Abba, Father.
Abba, I belong to You,
Yes, I belong to You.
My Abba, Father, God.

You're my Abba, Father, God."

Peder asked us to raise our hands to our Abba, Father. I'm not one to pull the "fork lift" or the "Statue of Liberty" very often, so outstretching my hands to the sky was a little out of my comfort zone, but I did it. I closed my eyes and half expected my Papa, Daddy to swoop down and scoop me up into His loving arms. I kind of felt like a four year old.

Last night, we sang it again. I put my arms up again, and I still felt like a four year old. Except this time, instead of closing my eyes, I looked up to the dusky sky. I looked at the pen mark on my left hand, like a four year old who is first learning to color with markers. I looked at the band aid on my right hand and thought of my trip to the First Aid tent, like the four year old who cries for the littlest scratch. (I scraped my hand on an old nail in a barn, ok, you would have gone to the First Aid tent, too). I looked up to the deep blue sky between my hands waiting for His smiling face to appear. Waiting to be held close and all of my tears wiped away.

Maybe I wasn't literally scooped up, but God was there. He was indeed holding me in His loving arms. I will forever be a four year old, and that's ok. God calls us to come like a child, and come like a child I shall!

Abba, I belong to You.
<>< Katie

"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'" Matthew 19:14

Lord, I'm Amazed by You

Picture this:
It's July, so I'm eating ice cream.
Yet I'm standing outside wearing long pants and a hoodie because it's not even 60 degree outside.

What's wrong with this picture?

Nothing.

I am at a bonfire with 50 of my closest friends. (No, I'm not close enough to actually feel the fire therefore I am physically shaking).
We're being led in hymns like
"How Great Thou Art"
"O Come All Ye Faithful" (no, I'm not kidding... it's not the first nor second Christmas song I've sung this weekend either, haha)
"Lord, I'm Amazed by You".

A great night of worship praising our Abba Father!

Good night everyone,
<>< Katie