The following is a story requested by Wess Stafford of Compassion International requesting people tell stories about a time when an adult encouraged you as a child. A moment that has stayed with you. It is part of the push to get adults to make a difference in childrens' lives. See the whole story here.
During my junior year in high school, I ran for a position that required a certain number of support signatures before I could even get my name on the ballot.
Approaching me for another reason, my adviser (who now lets me call him by his first name) saw the petition in my hand. He grabbed it from me and reached to his breast pocket for a pen.
“Can I sign this?” he offered.
I was taken aback. We were told a signature would require a polite, well-timed request followed by a semi-brief interview. Brian asked me if he could sign my paper not vice versa.
“I’m not even going to ask you those silly questions. I know your heart is always in the right place.”
Woah!
If I wasn’t caught off guard before, I was then.
“Your heart is always in the right place.”
Always?
I might have chosen “sometimes,” “periodically,” or “occasionally.” Yeah, those would definitely be more accurate. But no, he said “always.”
“Your heart is always in the right place.”
While I still don’t quite believe that statement, it was wonderful encouragement at that time and has been an excellent challenge since then.
I would love to hear your stories about some encouragement you received from an adult! Little moments matter, especially to little people.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label Brian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brian. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Godspeed and Good Luck
"One Sunday afternoon in June, you'll walk across a stage and I'll hand you a diploma" the headmaster of our school told us for years. For me, that one Sunday afternoon in June came three years ago. For Laura, it was yesterday.
At my graduation, tears welled up in my eyes but not until I sat down, diploma in hand. I kept a smile, and they never leaked out, but my family in the front row knew exactly what was happening.
For Laura's graduation, the tears appeared as soon as I walked into the gym where I recognized the set and the colored lines on the floor underneath it all. Again, I kept a smile and the water in my eyes but it was like someone hit me upside the head with emotion all of the sudden.
We took our seats in the back row and I fought to regain my composure. Before this one, every graduation we have purchased front row tickets at an auction. This year, my parents were competing with the wealthiest family in our town. She owns a company that probably affects your everyday life. He owns a professional sports team. There was no possible way Dad was winning those tickets. Instead, we took our seats in the back. At first we were worried about photos, but then I pointed to the end of our row: Uncle Greg. Tucked safely under his arm was the expensive camera of this professional photographer. We'd have photos from Laura's one Sunday afternoon in June, that's for sure.
The ceremony began with the graduates lining the aisle to applaud the faculty as they progressed into the seats that faced the audience. The graduates double back and sit in front of the faculty. At the end of the ceremony, the faculty progress out first, lining the aisle to applaud the newest batch of alumni. It's a special moment and a powerful tradition.
A more powerful moment and special tradition is that parents who are on the board or staff of the school are given the opportunity to call their graduate's name. For Laura and I, this meant we received our high school diplomas directly from the hand of our father. For Dad, this means he writes our names on his hand, so he doesn't forget what he's going to say (and then hopes he doesn't sweat it off). A friend's father took a photo of me hugging my father on the stage. It's a photo I cherish. I tried to do the same for Laura and was successful, but it's less than perfect quality.
An equally important photo to me is one of me in my robe with all four of my grandparents standing beside me. Sure, Boppy's sticking out his tongue (he refuses smile for photos, isn't that right, Boppy?), and Grandma's looking the wrong direction. But it's still the five of us, healthy and happy. Even though it's been three years since that one Sunday afternoon in June, that's still my desktop photo on my computer. I was too busy talking to Brian (my favorite advisor) to know if Laura got that same photo, but even if she didn't: we're still some of the lucky ones. Lucky enough to have our parents still married. Lucky enough to have four living grandparents. Lucky enough to have our aunts, uncles, and cousins take time out of their busy schedules to sit through a two-hour graduation ceremony celebrating our achievement. Lucky and blessed beyond belief.
As I looked around at the rest of Laura's graduating class, I realized not everyone was so lucky. Some of them come from broken homes, incomplete homes. One of her classmates lost an older brother a few years ago. Two classmates who graduated from a different school, lost their older brother. The class as a whole hasn't been so lucky either. In eight grade, they lost one of their own to leukemia. Two years ago, a classmate committed suicide.
For some, one Sunday afternoon in June is a day that never comes. For some, it is an end, a goal achieved. For some, it is expected. Either way, it is a milestone and everyone who meets it deserves a pat on the back. A sad ending to the book of high school but a great beginning of the future. For Laura and I, that has meant a move to a small, out-of-state college. For others, it means something else. It is s time to be celebrated (but tears are expected). Godspeed and good luck.
Well done, graduates!
<>< Katie
PS: I kind of rambled today... sorry. Thanks for reading!
At my graduation, tears welled up in my eyes but not until I sat down, diploma in hand. I kept a smile, and they never leaked out, but my family in the front row knew exactly what was happening.
For Laura's graduation, the tears appeared as soon as I walked into the gym where I recognized the set and the colored lines on the floor underneath it all. Again, I kept a smile and the water in my eyes but it was like someone hit me upside the head with emotion all of the sudden.
We took our seats in the back row and I fought to regain my composure. Before this one, every graduation we have purchased front row tickets at an auction. This year, my parents were competing with the wealthiest family in our town. She owns a company that probably affects your everyday life. He owns a professional sports team. There was no possible way Dad was winning those tickets. Instead, we took our seats in the back. At first we were worried about photos, but then I pointed to the end of our row: Uncle Greg. Tucked safely under his arm was the expensive camera of this professional photographer. We'd have photos from Laura's one Sunday afternoon in June, that's for sure.
The ceremony began with the graduates lining the aisle to applaud the faculty as they progressed into the seats that faced the audience. The graduates double back and sit in front of the faculty. At the end of the ceremony, the faculty progress out first, lining the aisle to applaud the newest batch of alumni. It's a special moment and a powerful tradition.
A more powerful moment and special tradition is that parents who are on the board or staff of the school are given the opportunity to call their graduate's name. For Laura and I, this meant we received our high school diplomas directly from the hand of our father. For Dad, this means he writes our names on his hand, so he doesn't forget what he's going to say (and then hopes he doesn't sweat it off). A friend's father took a photo of me hugging my father on the stage. It's a photo I cherish. I tried to do the same for Laura and was successful, but it's less than perfect quality.
An equally important photo to me is one of me in my robe with all four of my grandparents standing beside me. Sure, Boppy's sticking out his tongue (he refuses smile for photos, isn't that right, Boppy?), and Grandma's looking the wrong direction. But it's still the five of us, healthy and happy. Even though it's been three years since that one Sunday afternoon in June, that's still my desktop photo on my computer. I was too busy talking to Brian (my favorite advisor) to know if Laura got that same photo, but even if she didn't: we're still some of the lucky ones. Lucky enough to have our parents still married. Lucky enough to have four living grandparents. Lucky enough to have our aunts, uncles, and cousins take time out of their busy schedules to sit through a two-hour graduation ceremony celebrating our achievement. Lucky and blessed beyond belief.
As I looked around at the rest of Laura's graduating class, I realized not everyone was so lucky. Some of them come from broken homes, incomplete homes. One of her classmates lost an older brother a few years ago. Two classmates who graduated from a different school, lost their older brother. The class as a whole hasn't been so lucky either. In eight grade, they lost one of their own to leukemia. Two years ago, a classmate committed suicide.
For some, one Sunday afternoon in June is a day that never comes. For some, it is an end, a goal achieved. For some, it is expected. Either way, it is a milestone and everyone who meets it deserves a pat on the back. A sad ending to the book of high school but a great beginning of the future. For Laura and I, that has meant a move to a small, out-of-state college. For others, it means something else. It is s time to be celebrated (but tears are expected). Godspeed and good luck.
Well done, graduates!
<>< Katie
PS: I kind of rambled today... sorry. Thanks for reading!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Crap from the Pulpit
My friend Brian preached a few weeks ago, and I was able to look up his sermon online today. (Message me if you want the URL... it was a good sermon). I could probably write an entire blog on six or eight of his points, but then I really wouldn't get any homework done. Let me mull through a few more points before I share them, but this one is among my favorite.
His main point for the message was talking about preparing the soil, pruning, and producing (harvesting) our lives. With that said, he went on talk about how life is messy. It's full of crap. Yes, he said "crap" from the pulpit. He went on to talk about how the best fertilizer is made of crap. Fertilizer is vital to preparing the soil. Fertilizer, like life, is made of crap. In order to prepare our lives for pruning and changing, we have to experience crap. Life is messy. It happens.
Imagine what God is doing through the crap in your life and how fertile He is making the soil. Just remember, the pruning stage comes next, and it isn't easy either.
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"It has given me great joy to find some of your children are walking in the truth, just as the Father commanded us. And now, dear lady, I am not writing to you a new command but one we have had from the beginning: I ask that we love one another." 2 John 4-5
His main point for the message was talking about preparing the soil, pruning, and producing (harvesting) our lives. With that said, he went on talk about how life is messy. It's full of crap. Yes, he said "crap" from the pulpit. He went on to talk about how the best fertilizer is made of crap. Fertilizer is vital to preparing the soil. Fertilizer, like life, is made of crap. In order to prepare our lives for pruning and changing, we have to experience crap. Life is messy. It happens.
Imagine what God is doing through the crap in your life and how fertile He is making the soil. Just remember, the pruning stage comes next, and it isn't easy either.
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"It has given me great joy to find some of your children are walking in the truth, just as the Father commanded us. And now, dear lady, I am not writing to you a new command but one we have had from the beginning: I ask that we love one another." 2 John 4-5
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Brian's Big Mess
Neither Amber nor I wanted to go to church this morning. It's really hard to get up early to go to a church you don't love. We were both dragging our feet because we were exhausted, but we went anyway.
We got there and managed to find ourselves in the first row (AHH!!! Cardinal sin in the Lutheran church). Across the aisle was worship leader Brian and his wife Emily (who we know from school). Well, halfway through the sermon, Amber and I hear a huge SPLASH and our eyes dart to Brian and Emily. Brian spilled his glass of water on the floor. Not just any glass of water. A HUGE glass of water and it went all over himself, his Bible, the floor, and almost all over me, too!
We laughed histerically as this huge puddle spanned the aisle. I'm really glad no one came down for the altar call because I am quite sure they would have tripped. (And it would have been my responsibility save them... wouldn't that be a great, "How'd you break your arm?" story?). The usher during the offering came by and had to step very carefully as he looked down disapprovingly at the mess. He quickly came back and mopped it up... in the middle of the service... as he sang praises to God. :-)
After church Brian teased that he was cleansed for the sin of wrinkles. Don't know you the 11th Commandment? Thou shall not have wrinkled pants on Sunday. What does this mean? We should fear and love God that we eliminate ourselves from wrinkles or face the dreaded water cup. :-)
In Christ,
<>< Katie
We got there and managed to find ourselves in the first row (AHH!!! Cardinal sin in the Lutheran church). Across the aisle was worship leader Brian and his wife Emily (who we know from school). Well, halfway through the sermon, Amber and I hear a huge SPLASH and our eyes dart to Brian and Emily. Brian spilled his glass of water on the floor. Not just any glass of water. A HUGE glass of water and it went all over himself, his Bible, the floor, and almost all over me, too!
We laughed histerically as this huge puddle spanned the aisle. I'm really glad no one came down for the altar call because I am quite sure they would have tripped. (And it would have been my responsibility save them... wouldn't that be a great, "How'd you break your arm?" story?). The usher during the offering came by and had to step very carefully as he looked down disapprovingly at the mess. He quickly came back and mopped it up... in the middle of the service... as he sang praises to God. :-)
After church Brian teased that he was cleansed for the sin of wrinkles. Don't know you the 11th Commandment? Thou shall not have wrinkled pants on Sunday. What does this mean? We should fear and love God that we eliminate ourselves from wrinkles or face the dreaded water cup. :-)
In Christ,
<>< Katie
Monday, December 8, 2008
"I know your heart"
Today is Brian's birthday. Brian was my advisor for three years, but he did more than over see my grades. He fed me (homemade popcorn, doughnuts, etc.), supported me, prayed for me, prayed with me, stuck Bible verse in my locker, and let me hide in his office when the day didn't go well.
I remember one day in high school, I needed to collect 15 signatures to support me in running for an office. A mixture of those signatures had to be students of varying ages as well as teachers. I hated working up the courage to ask teachers to sign my paper. It's not that I didn't think they would, it's that I didn't want to ask.
One day, Brian came up to me and wanted to buy a candy bar I was selling as a fundraiser. I put down the piece of paper awaiting signatures and went to get Brian his candy bar. He yanked the sheet off the table and started pulling out a pen.
"Can I sign this?" he asked. Of course, I wasn't going to say no. Normally teachers were supposed to ask students about why they wanted to hold this title, what were their qualifications, could they be objective, etc. The awful interrogating questions that drive me nuts. Here, Brian had not only not asked me the annoying questions but offered to sign my sheet without me having to ask. He then added, "I'm not going to waste my time with the questions. I know your heart is always in the right place."
He walked away with his candy bar, and I walked away with my signature, yet my brain was mulling over so much more.
"I know your heart is always in the right place," his words echoed in my mind.
Was that true? Is my heart always in the right place? Of course not. But apparently it was in the right place often enough to convince them. Ever since then, his words still echo in my mind.
How many people know your heart? Are you being open enough and honest enough with people for them to know your inner-thoughts? Are you allowing them to see your true self? At the same time, is your heart true? Do you strive to make sure it's always in the right place (isn't that something we can all work on)?
Happy birthday, Brian!
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgressions, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:7-8
I remember one day in high school, I needed to collect 15 signatures to support me in running for an office. A mixture of those signatures had to be students of varying ages as well as teachers. I hated working up the courage to ask teachers to sign my paper. It's not that I didn't think they would, it's that I didn't want to ask.
One day, Brian came up to me and wanted to buy a candy bar I was selling as a fundraiser. I put down the piece of paper awaiting signatures and went to get Brian his candy bar. He yanked the sheet off the table and started pulling out a pen.
"Can I sign this?" he asked. Of course, I wasn't going to say no. Normally teachers were supposed to ask students about why they wanted to hold this title, what were their qualifications, could they be objective, etc. The awful interrogating questions that drive me nuts. Here, Brian had not only not asked me the annoying questions but offered to sign my sheet without me having to ask. He then added, "I'm not going to waste my time with the questions. I know your heart is always in the right place."
He walked away with his candy bar, and I walked away with my signature, yet my brain was mulling over so much more.
"I know your heart is always in the right place," his words echoed in my mind.
Was that true? Is my heart always in the right place? Of course not. But apparently it was in the right place often enough to convince them. Ever since then, his words still echo in my mind.
How many people know your heart? Are you being open enough and honest enough with people for them to know your inner-thoughts? Are you allowing them to see your true self? At the same time, is your heart true? Do you strive to make sure it's always in the right place (isn't that something we can all work on)?
Happy birthday, Brian!
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgressions, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:7-8
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