Last week I made my first trip to Baptist Country as an alumna. When we pulled into town, it didn't feel like I had been gone a month. It felt like we had just gone to Elizabeth's for the weekend.
Very little has changed.
A few trees have blown down, the construction projects have progressed, and there are not nearly as many cars in the parking lot.
So much has changed.
My ID card no longer lets me into buildings, my mailbox is boarded up, and I am not returning in the fall. Yet still it feels like home.
It was years ago when I first referred to that little town as "home." If I flew to The Homeland, I said I was flying home. If I flew to Baptist Country, I said I was flying home. The lines between "home" and "school" were so blurry that I gave up on what to call each place and declared travel days "Airplane Day," no matter which direction I was going.
What is home?
Is home my parents' house? Is home the college town where I went couch-surfing last week? What exactly is home?
I wish I posted everything I've drafted because in February I wrote a post entitled "Redefining Family." It claimed "family" was my five suitemates, my ten-person ministry team, and my lunch buddies. Sometimes family has little to do with blood relation.
Home is where your family is.
I'm having a hard time deciding where "home" is because my family is in The Homeland, my family is in Baptist Country, my family is in Nicaragua, in Guatemala... Does that make home all of those places as well?
In the same way that The Homeland will always be "home" because my family is here, Baptist Country will always be "home" because my family is there, too.
Beauty and the Beast taught me "home is where the heart is." If that's true, then I'm heartbroken. In Baptist Country, I want to be in The Homeland. While in The Homeland, I yearn for Baptist Country. I don't think this is necessarily a bad problem to have, but I am not a fan. For four years my life has been split by 900 miles, a chasm that is not closing anytime soon.
Until God sends me somewhere else, home will have to be my parents' house. No more trying to outsmart amazon.com to get packages delivered to my P.O. box. No more loitering in the caf. No more spontaneous trips to Wal-mart even though we don't need anything. No more "Katie, party of twelve, your table is ready."
As I struggle to define such a basic four-letter word, I must also remember that in the grand scheme of things, none of these places are "home." They are all temporary dwellings prior to an eternal home. I honestly believe that someday there will be no sixteen-hour drives and no time change because there will be no time at all. There will be a day when tears won't roll, hearts won't break, and pain won't hurt. All of God's children will be home, constantly singing praises to Him, for He deserves it.
That, my friends, will be Home.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label FOCUS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FOCUS. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Live to Worship
We were told to expect thirty middle and high schoolers for our youth retreat. Most of the time there were five.
I think guys are pre-wired to play sports. It's an unfair advantage they have for a bonding activity. Our guys jumped right in with their guys and commence the weekend-long Knock-Out tournament. We ladies had a bit of a more difficult time.
I was God-placed in the right place at the right time. When two sisters walked in, I happened to be near the gym door.
The younger, a very thin middle school student with hair just past her ears, was less than thrilled about playing basketball. She picked up the volleyball and tossed it to herself. I asked if I could join. She nodded yes.
I'm not any better at volleyball than I am at basketball. But, it's easier to play one-on-one than eight-on-one. We bumped the ball back and forth. I was kind of impressed with myself for knowing how to hold my hands, to get under the ball, and for not getting hit in the face. There still might have been more running than bumping.
By dinner time, my arms were bright red. They hurt. Hers matched.
In that volleyball time, she became my buddy. For the next two days, she clinged to me.
We sat together at meals and played volleyball during free times. Since there were five youth and eight college students, I could focus my attention on her. And sometimes she needed all of my attention.
The lively girl I saw when we were playing ping pong and listening to the same two Skillet songs on repeat was not the same girl who slowly scooted her chair next to mine during Bible lessons.
The only time she actually opened her Bible all weekend was during the lesson I taught. She was not interested in playing group games and much preferred to organize the preschool Sunday School room all day Saturday rather than participate in our planned activities.
I prayed a lot for God to show me how to reach her. None of my tricks of the trade seemed successful, so I did the same thing I did with the Nicaraguan niños, I loved her. I made a point to always know where she was. I offered to help her organize and when she declined, it I sat with her while she worked. I put my arm around her when she rested my head on her shoulder. I told her I loved her with my words and my actions.
As seems typical, we had to leave before I could see what God was doing in that girl. But I saw Him work in me.
Our theme of the weekend was: Live to Worship.
One thing God taught me was that even though the middle schooler and I didn't have any deep conversations, my time spent with her was still worship.
I'll be honest, it felt a bit more like babysitting than it did a youth retreat. But it mattered. It was the ministry of presence.
On Saturday night she gave me a piece of construction paper with my name written on it and decorated with glitter. I hung it in my dorm room as a reminder of our weekend and to pray for her regularly. It's a reminder that sometimes even what feels different than we expected can be worship, can be a ministry, can make a difference.
How have you worshipped today?
<>< Katie
I think guys are pre-wired to play sports. It's an unfair advantage they have for a bonding activity. Our guys jumped right in with their guys and commence the weekend-long Knock-Out tournament. We ladies had a bit of a more difficult time.
I was God-placed in the right place at the right time. When two sisters walked in, I happened to be near the gym door.
The younger, a very thin middle school student with hair just past her ears, was less than thrilled about playing basketball. She picked up the volleyball and tossed it to herself. I asked if I could join. She nodded yes.
I'm not any better at volleyball than I am at basketball. But, it's easier to play one-on-one than eight-on-one. We bumped the ball back and forth. I was kind of impressed with myself for knowing how to hold my hands, to get under the ball, and for not getting hit in the face. There still might have been more running than bumping.
By dinner time, my arms were bright red. They hurt. Hers matched.
In that volleyball time, she became my buddy. For the next two days, she clinged to me.
We sat together at meals and played volleyball during free times. Since there were five youth and eight college students, I could focus my attention on her. And sometimes she needed all of my attention.
The lively girl I saw when we were playing ping pong and listening to the same two Skillet songs on repeat was not the same girl who slowly scooted her chair next to mine during Bible lessons.
The only time she actually opened her Bible all weekend was during the lesson I taught. She was not interested in playing group games and much preferred to organize the preschool Sunday School room all day Saturday rather than participate in our planned activities.
I prayed a lot for God to show me how to reach her. None of my tricks of the trade seemed successful, so I did the same thing I did with the Nicaraguan niños, I loved her. I made a point to always know where she was. I offered to help her organize and when she declined, it I sat with her while she worked. I put my arm around her when she rested my head on her shoulder. I told her I loved her with my words and my actions.
As seems typical, we had to leave before I could see what God was doing in that girl. But I saw Him work in me.
Our theme of the weekend was: Live to Worship.
One thing God taught me was that even though the middle schooler and I didn't have any deep conversations, my time spent with her was still worship.
I'll be honest, it felt a bit more like babysitting than it did a youth retreat. But it mattered. It was the ministry of presence.
On Saturday night she gave me a piece of construction paper with my name written on it and decorated with glitter. I hung it in my dorm room as a reminder of our weekend and to pray for her regularly. It's a reminder that sometimes even what feels different than we expected can be worship, can be a ministry, can make a difference.
How have you worshipped today?
<>< Katie
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Project 7
What can make or break a college student's self-esteem in mere seconds?
A trip to the post office.
For years I've been listening to Peder Eide talk about Taste Worship's family bonding activities. My family is mostly grown, lives in three states, and refuses to participate in anything I suggest. I'm sick of waiting for a future family to apply the things I'm learning.
Last week I began to ponder: what about my Ministry Team Family? We're a group of ten students who go out in the community and lead youth retreats, lock-ins, Wednesday nights, etc. We spend time weekly sharing life by praying for each other, talking about what God has been teaching us lately, sharing our testimonies, doing devotions, etc.
Like all good ideas, what if? What if we all do our own Project 25? The idea is that you write, "I love you because" on the top of a piece of paper and then list 25 reasons why you love a particular family member. Well, 25 things I love about that person is a lot to come up with for someone I met six months ago and see once a week for an hour.
The what ifs continued and out popped Project 7. I immediately facebooked the idea to my co-leader. If I hadn't, I probably would have chickened out. My mailbox was empty that day and thus so was my self-esteem.
By the strength of the Holy Spirit, I pitched the idea to my team. What if every day for the next seven days we as a team were each going to anonymously encourage a certain team member? Lift them up in prayer, affirm them, mail them Bible verses and candy, etc. I really thought they'd think it lame. (Mailbox was empty that day, too). I told them to be creative.
We exchanged names and went on our way. I prayed everyone would participate so no one was left out. I had no idea how God would use a silly "What If?" idea.
Day One
I saw three excited facebook status updates thanking their Project Seven person.
Day Two
Taste Worship sent out the Project 25 idea. I realized how far we've come from the original idea!
Day Three
One girl told me she was loving sending her Project Seven person anonymous notes. It took some prodding to figure out she was not receiving anything but she didn't mind. (Her sender was home sick).
Day Four
God used my Project Seven Person to encourage me exactly how I needed it that day.
Day Five
Blew! My! Mind! A friend not on my team cornered me in the caf.
"Hypothetically, if my Project Seven person lives in your apartment and I, hypothetically, had something to leave on her bed. Would you, hypothetically, let me in?"
Hypothetically, how did you learn about Project Seven?
Another team stole the idea and were participating as well! How awesome is that?
Day Six
I began to get emails and text messages, "Are we going to do this again next week?! We're not meeting this week because of the Green Bay Packers bringing the Lombardi Trophy home to Titletown, can we keep sending our person stuff?"
Day Seven
I have a gift in my backpack to slide into a friend's backpack tomorrow... on behalf of my roommate who didn't have any idea that this whole cockamamie scheme developed in her own bedroom.
God multiplied a simple "What if?" idea and used it well beyond what I could have ever dreamed! The only credit I can take is obediently following the prompting of the Spirit.
Some of our creative ideas:
- campus mailed handwritten notes containing encouragement and Bible verses and accompanied with candy bars (campus mail is free)
- a card with seven note cards: one for each day (sent through real mail... postage paid)
- notes slid under dorm room doors
- affirming text messages sent from blocked numbers
- a phone call on behalf of a Project Seven Person with a personal, encouraging message.
And unlike most things that happen in my suite, Project Seven has stayed anonymous. No one wants to be figured out! They want to keep it a secret and guess at our next meeting. Our next meeting we will, by popular demand, re-exchange names and do it again, getting more creative as the semester progresses.
Two lessons here:
1. Let the Holy Spirit use you. Don't make our self-esteem depended on what you receive (or don't receive) in the mail. Be willing to be bold.
2. A little bit of encouragement goes a long, long way. The knowledge that someone is praying for you is HUGE!
<>< Katie
PS: Feel free to take this idea and use it as you and the Lord see fit.
A trip to the post office.
For years I've been listening to Peder Eide talk about Taste Worship's family bonding activities. My family is mostly grown, lives in three states, and refuses to participate in anything I suggest. I'm sick of waiting for a future family to apply the things I'm learning.
Last week I began to ponder: what about my Ministry Team Family? We're a group of ten students who go out in the community and lead youth retreats, lock-ins, Wednesday nights, etc. We spend time weekly sharing life by praying for each other, talking about what God has been teaching us lately, sharing our testimonies, doing devotions, etc.
Like all good ideas, what if? What if we all do our own Project 25? The idea is that you write, "I love you because" on the top of a piece of paper and then list 25 reasons why you love a particular family member. Well, 25 things I love about that person is a lot to come up with for someone I met six months ago and see once a week for an hour.
The what ifs continued and out popped Project 7. I immediately facebooked the idea to my co-leader. If I hadn't, I probably would have chickened out. My mailbox was empty that day and thus so was my self-esteem.
By the strength of the Holy Spirit, I pitched the idea to my team. What if every day for the next seven days we as a team were each going to anonymously encourage a certain team member? Lift them up in prayer, affirm them, mail them Bible verses and candy, etc. I really thought they'd think it lame. (Mailbox was empty that day, too). I told them to be creative.
We exchanged names and went on our way. I prayed everyone would participate so no one was left out. I had no idea how God would use a silly "What If?" idea.
Day One
I saw three excited facebook status updates thanking their Project Seven person.
Day Two
Taste Worship sent out the Project 25 idea. I realized how far we've come from the original idea!
Day Three
One girl told me she was loving sending her Project Seven person anonymous notes. It took some prodding to figure out she was not receiving anything but she didn't mind. (Her sender was home sick).
Day Four
God used my Project Seven Person to encourage me exactly how I needed it that day.
Day Five
Blew! My! Mind! A friend not on my team cornered me in the caf.
"Hypothetically, if my Project Seven person lives in your apartment and I, hypothetically, had something to leave on her bed. Would you, hypothetically, let me in?"
Hypothetically, how did you learn about Project Seven?
Another team stole the idea and were participating as well! How awesome is that?
Day Six
I began to get emails and text messages, "Are we going to do this again next week?! We're not meeting this week because of the Green Bay Packers bringing the Lombardi Trophy home to Titletown, can we keep sending our person stuff?"
Day Seven
I have a gift in my backpack to slide into a friend's backpack tomorrow... on behalf of my roommate who didn't have any idea that this whole cockamamie scheme developed in her own bedroom.
God multiplied a simple "What if?" idea and used it well beyond what I could have ever dreamed! The only credit I can take is obediently following the prompting of the Spirit.
Some of our creative ideas:
- campus mailed handwritten notes containing encouragement and Bible verses and accompanied with candy bars (campus mail is free)
- a card with seven note cards: one for each day (sent through real mail... postage paid)
- notes slid under dorm room doors
- affirming text messages sent from blocked numbers
- a phone call on behalf of a Project Seven Person with a personal, encouraging message.
And unlike most things that happen in my suite, Project Seven has stayed anonymous. No one wants to be figured out! They want to keep it a secret and guess at our next meeting. Our next meeting we will, by popular demand, re-exchange names and do it again, getting more creative as the semester progresses.
Two lessons here:
1. Let the Holy Spirit use you. Don't make our self-esteem depended on what you receive (or don't receive) in the mail. Be willing to be bold.
2. A little bit of encouragement goes a long, long way. The knowledge that someone is praying for you is HUGE!
<>< Katie
PS: Feel free to take this idea and use it as you and the Lord see fit.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
One Handed Mermaids
At school I'm a part of a ministry team that works with local churches to lead youth nights, retreats, lock-ins, et al. Our job is to basically be silly, bond with the youth, and teach them about Jesus. I like the ministry, but I always feel like there's an element missing. We work with the youth all weekend and then on Sunday night we go home. The might be-friend us on facebook or something but the relationship's pretty much over. That makes me sad.
Which is why I love going home. Even though I'm only there every few months, I get to spend time with middle and high schoolers. Sure, I have to go back to school eventually but I get to go back and forth between the two.
On Sunday, I spent the morning getting powered sugar all over the ancient, blue church pew with my middle schoolers. They're almost done with Confirmation class, looking towards high school, and have built a great friendship among them.
Their leader asked the best present they received for Christmas. One of them responded, "Jesus's forgiveness."
That was the end of that discussion question. She blew us out of the water! So powerful. So profound. So perfect. So simple.
When I got home from church, I looked at a national weather map and noticed this itty bitty snowstorm hitting half of our country... including Baptist Country. I wanted to just sit around and mope about how I probably wasn't getting back to school in the near future.
I'm so glad I didn't cancel my plans for Sunday night. Instead I went to what my church calls Home Group. Basically it's like small group where high schoolers get together in a family's house to hang out, learn about Jesus, and eat, eat, eat.
I wanted to get home and mope about my potentially cancelled flight. Instead I got lost in the most intense conversation ever. Or at least in the week.
Trevor (Who's been begging me all week to blog about this just so he can see his own name in print) asked the question: Why did God give us two of everything?
Two arms, two legs, two halves of the brain...
One stomach so we don't overindulge.
One tongue to control.
One appendix to have removed.
But two lungs, two kidneys, two eyes...
The best answer we could devise is that God likes symmetry.
Dawn, Jake, Trevor, and I continued our conversation to pondering if there are any warm-blooded animals that do not have four appendages. Mermaids.
Maybe it was a weird conversation. A "Peanut Butter Bagel" blog post. But still something to ponder.
I love being able to spend time with the same youth. I knew most of these guys from the Gathering in July. Wonder about weird things that have never crossed my mind before. Spend some time with youth and see what you come away wondering...
<>< Katie
PS: Happy now, Trevor?
Which is why I love going home. Even though I'm only there every few months, I get to spend time with middle and high schoolers. Sure, I have to go back to school eventually but I get to go back and forth between the two.
On Sunday, I spent the morning getting powered sugar all over the ancient, blue church pew with my middle schoolers. They're almost done with Confirmation class, looking towards high school, and have built a great friendship among them.
Their leader asked the best present they received for Christmas. One of them responded, "Jesus's forgiveness."
That was the end of that discussion question. She blew us out of the water! So powerful. So profound. So perfect. So simple.
When I got home from church, I looked at a national weather map and noticed this itty bitty snowstorm hitting half of our country... including Baptist Country. I wanted to just sit around and mope about how I probably wasn't getting back to school in the near future.
I'm so glad I didn't cancel my plans for Sunday night. Instead I went to what my church calls Home Group. Basically it's like small group where high schoolers get together in a family's house to hang out, learn about Jesus, and eat, eat, eat.
I wanted to get home and mope about my potentially cancelled flight. Instead I got lost in the most intense conversation ever. Or at least in the week.
Trevor (Who's been begging me all week to blog about this just so he can see his own name in print) asked the question: Why did God give us two of everything?
Two arms, two legs, two halves of the brain...
One stomach so we don't overindulge.
One tongue to control.
One appendix to have removed.
But two lungs, two kidneys, two eyes...
The best answer we could devise is that God likes symmetry.
Dawn, Jake, Trevor, and I continued our conversation to pondering if there are any warm-blooded animals that do not have four appendages. Mermaids.
Maybe it was a weird conversation. A "Peanut Butter Bagel" blog post. But still something to ponder.
I love being able to spend time with the same youth. I knew most of these guys from the Gathering in July. Wonder about weird things that have never crossed my mind before. Spend some time with youth and see what you come away wondering...
<>< Katie
PS: Happy now, Trevor?
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Wait
The middle school girl across the dinner table from me was lost gazing into space. Her friend said she was deep in thought. Naturally, I asked what she was thinking about. Again her friend provided the answer: boys. She has a boyfriend but there's another guy she likes. I've never been there, but I still realize that's a difficult position.
"You know that one thing all guys want?" the girl asked.
I nodded, carefully choosing words as we embarked into dangerous territory. "If he does not respect you, then he is not worth your time," I said.
She nodded and told me about her purity commitment.
"One day you will find a man who respects you as a woman," I continued. "One who will honor your commitment and your relationship with God. Maybe he'll even share in them. You will find a man who treats you right. Do not settle for anything less."
She nodded.
There was no point in continuing my sermon. It was something she already knew but needed to hear again. Likewise, I needed to say it again.
"You know that one thing all guys want?" the girl asked.
I nodded, carefully choosing words as we embarked into dangerous territory. "If he does not respect you, then he is not worth your time," I said.
She nodded and told me about her purity commitment.
"One day you will find a man who respects you as a woman," I continued. "One who will honor your commitment and your relationship with God. Maybe he'll even share in them. You will find a man who treats you right. Do not settle for anything less."
She nodded.
There was no point in continuing my sermon. It was something she already knew but needed to hear again. Likewise, I needed to say it again.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Who am I?
Sometimes I fluctuate like a pendulum between "God is awesome and everyone needs to know!" and "who am I to expect people to listen when I proclaim His name?" Sometimes I hit both in a matter of minutes. What's great is that He can use both ends of the spectrum.
I was having a "Who am I" moment the other day. Who am I to share the Gospel? Why should people listen to me? What story has God given me? The only times I've gone to bed hungry where the days when I didn't like what was served for dinner. I've never lost my job. I've never been ripped from the jaws of death. I've never overcome a serious addiction. I've never...
Then like He always does, God smacked me in the face as He began to remind me of all of the things He has done in my life. I've had a seven year old Guatemalan boy fall in love with me. I've been in a car-totalling accident and walked away without a scratch. I've been able to make a difference in the lives of teens at home and at school. I've personally handed a bag of food to someone who will live off of it for the next month. I've (been told I) energized someone who didn't know if he could muster up the energy to do the job correctly himself.
You think I did any of that on my own?
Maybe I don't remember a specific day when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. Maybe I didn't overcome a life-changing obstacle to obtain the faith I now proclaim. That doesn't mean I don't have a testimony. Testimony is God's people speaking out about what He has done. He has given me a story to tell. Who am I not to tell it?
Being used and telling my story,
<>< Katie
I was having a "Who am I" moment the other day. Who am I to share the Gospel? Why should people listen to me? What story has God given me? The only times I've gone to bed hungry where the days when I didn't like what was served for dinner. I've never lost my job. I've never been ripped from the jaws of death. I've never overcome a serious addiction. I've never...
Then like He always does, God smacked me in the face as He began to remind me of all of the things He has done in my life. I've had a seven year old Guatemalan boy fall in love with me. I've been in a car-totalling accident and walked away without a scratch. I've been able to make a difference in the lives of teens at home and at school. I've personally handed a bag of food to someone who will live off of it for the next month. I've (been told I) energized someone who didn't know if he could muster up the energy to do the job correctly himself.
You think I did any of that on my own?
Maybe I don't remember a specific day when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. Maybe I didn't overcome a life-changing obstacle to obtain the faith I now proclaim. That doesn't mean I don't have a testimony. Testimony is God's people speaking out about what He has done. He has given me a story to tell. Who am I not to tell it?
Being used and telling my story,
<>< Katie
Monday, April 19, 2010
Blessed Be Your Name
I spent all weekend helping lead a youth retreat weekend. On Saturday afternoon we did a service project and gardened for a few elderly church members. Upon returning to the church, we each took some quiet time to reflect and pray. As that kind of wrapped up, people seemed to be gathering in the grass on the hill and it became a spontaneous worship song session. One of the songs we sang was "Blessed Be Your Name." As we went through the familiar verses and chorus, I pondered how many times I'd sung that song. On campus, in church, in my car, in Spanish in Guatemala, in ASL, with 35,000 teens, by myself, with a small group around a campfire... the list goes on and on. Every summer for almost the last ten years my family has gone to an outdoor Christian music festival. In the last few years, it seems every artist sings "Blessed Be Your Name." I've sung with the hot July sun beating down on me. I've sung it as refreshing night rain pelts my face. I've sung it a lot. You'd think I'd know the verses in the right order...
On May 21, 2008, singer/songwriter Steven Curtis Chapman's youngest daughter died tragically at age 5 after being accidently hit by a car in the family's driveway. On July 11 of the same year SCC returned to the stage for the first time since the accident and earned a standing ovation prior to playing a note. He softly explained after such a tragedy there was one song that kept running through his head and he began to sing "Blessed Be Your Name." I highly doubt there was a dry eye in the entire audience. With heavy hearts and sore feet we extended our arms to the heavens and worshipped our precious Holy Father while He painted us a beautiful sunset in the Midwestern sky. The lyrics took on a whole new meaning as we proclaimed, "Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me. When the world's all as it should be, blessed be Your name, on the road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering, blessed be Your name." If a hurting father could say it, so can we. If the responsible brother could say it, so can we. If the sunburned, mud-laden audience can say it, so can we. Right?
It doesn't mean your pain is gone. It doesn't mean you need to be happy-go-lucky. It means God is still God. It means you'll praise Him in the hard times in addition to the easy times. In the United States, in foreign countries. In the sun and in the rain. From the top of the mountain and the bottom of the valley. As yourself honestly, no matter what you're going through today, are you willing to say, "Blessed be Your name"?
Blessed be,
<>< Katie
Sunday, February 21, 2010
"Wait, what's the number for 9-1-1?"
One of the amazing opportunities I have here at school is to help lead youth retreats. Weekend retreats, one-night events, lock-ins, etc. My ministry team and I do them all. This weekend we helped lead a youth ski trip. Can you say fun?!
Here are some highlights:
As we were driving back this afternoon, we took a twenty-minute prayer break. No iPods, no books, no conversations, no music, nothing.
I looked out of the bus, noticing the stunning mountains, and started my prayer. Except that'll have to be a different blog! This is me resisting the urge to say "Sundays don't count in Lent" and update again. See you Tuesday!
<>< Katie
PS: If you can tell me what skit the title of this post is from you win fifty-points.
Here are some highlights:
- Using an ironing board as a sled...
- The Oreo Olympics: What started as a game to get a half-an-Oreo from the forehead to the mouth sans hands turned into "If I flip this whole Oreo from one shoulder to the other shoulder before kicking it, will you catch it in your mouth?"
- "Patrick, I could hearing you giggling in my bed," complained a female adult chaperone. Please, let's all enjoy her misplaced modifier... and then we'll adjust the sentence to say, "From my bed I could hear you laughing, Patrick!"
- I was the only one sitting at the kitchen table in our house. Please note this kitchen table seats at least ten people and all of the other seats were unoccupied. A girl came into the house to dodge a snowball. Well, she was successful... I was not. The snowball hit one chair and one chair only: mine.
- Kevin and Jeanie had never skied before. Brad and I are intermediate skiers. Somehow the two newbies ended up on the lift together while Brad and I were in the next chair. Acrophobia Kevin screamed the whole way!
- [Quite possibly my favorite] We were playing a game called "Body Parts" where two partners are separated and have to run to each other and touch the called body parts. For example, if the caller says, "Nose to toes," partner one's nose goes to partner two's toes. I took full advantage of my role as caller by saying things like, "tongue to ear" but then I got bored and began to take requests. Somewhere in the game bones started appearing, and "That is not your femur." The very last call wasn't mine but someone screamed, "Cranium to femur." Well, the cranium missed...
As we were driving back this afternoon, we took a twenty-minute prayer break. No iPods, no books, no conversations, no music, nothing.
I looked out of the bus, noticing the stunning mountains, and started my prayer. Except that'll have to be a different blog! This is me resisting the urge to say "Sundays don't count in Lent" and update again. See you Tuesday!
<>< Katie
PS: If you can tell me what skit the title of this post is from you win fifty-points.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Rainy Days
Yesterday morning I passed my FOCUS brother Jordan on his way to breakfast.
"Hey, how are you?" I asked giving him a hug. I knew the answer before he spoke.
"Not good. It's raining. I HATE the rain. Absolutely hate it more than anything else in the world. It's going to be a bad day," he explained. As someone whose mood is often dictated by the weather, I understood. Rainy days are often miserable but "hate" is a strong word.
"Do me a favor, try to find one thing good in today. Yeah, it's rainy and gross, but God still made today and therefore there must be one thing good in it," I coached. He kind of groaned, and we went our separate ways.
I don't see Jordan very often and was surprised when I saw him again at dinner. I asked him about his good thing for the day.
"I got a good grade on a test," he said proudly.
In the next few minutes we made a list of good things:
1. Good grade
2. He's alive and breathing
3. It's Friday
4. We saw each other twice
Not bad for someone who hates the rain more than anything! Sure, they're all pretty basic but they're still reasons to smile on a no good, very bad rainy day.
This morning, I saw him again and asked how he was doing.
"Today is much better. It's not raining today. My feet are dry!" His girlfriend and I teased him about getting some rainboats. Yeah, that idea didn't fly. Maybe dry feet was his good thing for today.
I think we all have days like Jordan where we know before breakfast that it's going to be a bad day. Rain, headaches, heavy backpacks, and nasty caf food make my days bad. Smiles and hugs from friends, cancelled classes, and blog comments make my days better.
I'd challenge you to do the same thing I often encourage myself to do and I suggested Jordan do: find one thing good in today. Even as simple and being grateful that you got out of bed this morning.
"This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it" - Psalm 118:24 (emphasis mine)
<>< Katie
"Hey, how are you?" I asked giving him a hug. I knew the answer before he spoke.
"Not good. It's raining. I HATE the rain. Absolutely hate it more than anything else in the world. It's going to be a bad day," he explained. As someone whose mood is often dictated by the weather, I understood. Rainy days are often miserable but "hate" is a strong word.
"Do me a favor, try to find one thing good in today. Yeah, it's rainy and gross, but God still made today and therefore there must be one thing good in it," I coached. He kind of groaned, and we went our separate ways.
I don't see Jordan very often and was surprised when I saw him again at dinner. I asked him about his good thing for the day.
"I got a good grade on a test," he said proudly.
In the next few minutes we made a list of good things:
1. Good grade
2. He's alive and breathing
3. It's Friday
4. We saw each other twice
Not bad for someone who hates the rain more than anything! Sure, they're all pretty basic but they're still reasons to smile on a no good, very bad rainy day.
This morning, I saw him again and asked how he was doing.
"Today is much better. It's not raining today. My feet are dry!" His girlfriend and I teased him about getting some rainboats. Yeah, that idea didn't fly. Maybe dry feet was his good thing for today.
I think we all have days like Jordan where we know before breakfast that it's going to be a bad day. Rain, headaches, heavy backpacks, and nasty caf food make my days bad. Smiles and hugs from friends, cancelled classes, and blog comments make my days better.
I'd challenge you to do the same thing I often encourage myself to do and I suggested Jordan do: find one thing good in today. Even as simple and being grateful that you got out of bed this morning.
"This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it" - Psalm 118:24 (emphasis mine)
<>< Katie
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Jesus Shoes
"It's so funny because guitar is one of the biggest things I'm going to use in India, and I haven't touched mine in almost a week," Jesus Shoes told us this afternoon.
On Thursday he's headed to India for six months to be a witness for Christ and live up to his name: Jesus Shoes. That isn't his real name.
Last spring, my ministry team and I led a weekend youth retreat where we had a plethora of very similar names. For some reason, the youth could not get our worship leaders' names right. Instead of refering to them by instrument, the high school girls nicknamed both of them: Broken Arm Guy and Jesus Shoes. Jesus Shoes wore Chacos, and Broken Arm Guy proving it is possible to play piano while sporting a beautiful lime green cast.
At first neither one of our worship leaders liked their nicknames but didn't have the hearts to correct the youth; it was only for a weekend, after all. Personally, I think the nicknames were pretty appropriate, but I let Broken Arm Guy drop his nickname after the weekend. Jesus Shoes, however, has stuck in my mind.
As Jesus Shoes prepares for his journey to India, his name seems even more appropriate. After all, he's headed across the world to be Jesus' hands and feet. Jesus' shoes?
While what area of ministry exactly he's going to be working with in India is still being determined, he knows he'll be teaching guitar to some of the youth. This actually worries him because he doesn't have any idea how to teach guitar. Besides his putzing a little bit in my living room this afternoon, he hasn't played guitar in almost a week. When he gets to India, his guitar-playing hours will be almost unlimited, but due to time contraints he hasn't been able to play much lately.
Hey, Jesus Shoes, you're going to India to teach guitar but you haven't played this week. Hey, Jesus Shoes, you're going to India to preach the gospel, have you read it this week? I realize that's a dumb question. Or is it?
I think it's something we all need to ask ourselves on a regular basis. If we're here to be witnesses, have we showed God's love this week? No matter where we are, we're on a mission. Are we being Jesus' hands and feet?
Know you are loved and will be missed; riding the dolly through the storage unit in a tornado warning just isn't the same without you, brother. Represent our Father well. Be safe in India, but never forget that you are to be Jesus' Shoes.
With love,
<>< Katie
On Thursday he's headed to India for six months to be a witness for Christ and live up to his name: Jesus Shoes. That isn't his real name.
Last spring, my ministry team and I led a weekend youth retreat where we had a plethora of very similar names. For some reason, the youth could not get our worship leaders' names right. Instead of refering to them by instrument, the high school girls nicknamed both of them: Broken Arm Guy and Jesus Shoes. Jesus Shoes wore Chacos, and Broken Arm Guy proving it is possible to play piano while sporting a beautiful lime green cast.
At first neither one of our worship leaders liked their nicknames but didn't have the hearts to correct the youth; it was only for a weekend, after all. Personally, I think the nicknames were pretty appropriate, but I let Broken Arm Guy drop his nickname after the weekend. Jesus Shoes, however, has stuck in my mind.
As Jesus Shoes prepares for his journey to India, his name seems even more appropriate. After all, he's headed across the world to be Jesus' hands and feet. Jesus' shoes?
While what area of ministry exactly he's going to be working with in India is still being determined, he knows he'll be teaching guitar to some of the youth. This actually worries him because he doesn't have any idea how to teach guitar. Besides his putzing a little bit in my living room this afternoon, he hasn't played guitar in almost a week. When he gets to India, his guitar-playing hours will be almost unlimited, but due to time contraints he hasn't been able to play much lately.
Hey, Jesus Shoes, you're going to India to teach guitar but you haven't played this week. Hey, Jesus Shoes, you're going to India to preach the gospel, have you read it this week? I realize that's a dumb question. Or is it?
I think it's something we all need to ask ourselves on a regular basis. If we're here to be witnesses, have we showed God's love this week? No matter where we are, we're on a mission. Are we being Jesus' hands and feet?
Know you are loved and will be missed; riding the dolly through the storage unit in a tornado warning just isn't the same without you, brother. Represent our Father well. Be safe in India, but never forget that you are to be Jesus' Shoes.
With love,
<>< Katie
PS: My blogs are not pointless. Only some of them.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Exercise
Gosh, I love Mondays. Hear the sarcasm. My first class starts at 9am and my last class ends at 9:50pm. Yes, please pray fr me on Mondays especially. This is relational exercise in patience.
I knew it was going to be a weird day in my ASL class this morning. We were talking about different shapes and the professor signed, "KNOW MEDICAL DOCTOR SERVE HAMBURGER CIRCLE IN BOX." Huh? Must have zoned out because that didn't make sense. Yeah, it was "McDonalds" not "Doctor." Both signed "MD" with one on the back of the hand and the other on the inside of the wrist. Oops. Wrong me. Mental exercise.
This afternoon, I was sitting in my hammock reading about poetry. My favorite thing. More sarcasm. It's no wonder I couldn't focus. So, I looked across my room and noticed my bike. Let's go for a bike ride! Ladies and gentlemen, it is JANUARY and I went for a bike ride without my jacket. The terrain here is different than I'm used to and I'm completely out of shape, but even my short bike ride was enough to get some exercise, clear my brain, and enjoy the wonderful weather.
One of my suitemates is currently taking violin for the first time. Back in the day, I used to play viola. Not well, mind you, but I played never the less. Everyone took a turn trying to play her violin and everyone sounded awful. Sorry, girls. When it was my turn, I played an old simple song I remembered and jaws dropped. I remind you, I am not a good violist, but it was great to have a stringed instrument in my hands again. Excellent exercise for my fingers and my brain.
Part one of my Christmas present arrived in the mail today, our Wii. I call it the "you and your suitemates aren't good enough at killing time" gift. It was later followed by a Wii Fit, the "you need to lose weight" aspect of the gift. Huh? The Wii Fit isn't here yet but my shoulder hurts from bowling and tennis. More physical exercise.
However, the most challenging exercise happened in my night class. This is the first time we've met, but the professor has had all of us as his students previously. Prior to even handing out the syllabus, he stated a vague situation and gave us an hour to respond to it privately. This was an excellent writing exercise in my religion class, and I might post what I wrote tomorrow. Really, it was a masked-exercise in discovering Christology. However, it was hard! An emotional and spiritual battle. At the end of class, the professor apologized for "any tear and sweat this may have caused." It caused both. Spiritual and emotional exercise.
Are you in shape? Relationally? Emotionally? Physically? Mentally? Most importantly, spiritually?
<>< Katie
PS: Yes, I realize this was kind of a "I had peanut butter on my bagel instead of cream cheese" post and no one really cares, but it was just a very interesting day and I think you should hear about it. I tried to tie it together. Oh, and I don't really believe the Wii Fit joke aspect of the Christmas present, by the way.
I knew it was going to be a weird day in my ASL class this morning. We were talking about different shapes and the professor signed, "KNOW MEDICAL DOCTOR SERVE HAMBURGER CIRCLE IN BOX." Huh? Must have zoned out because that didn't make sense. Yeah, it was "McDonalds" not "Doctor." Both signed "MD" with one on the back of the hand and the other on the inside of the wrist. Oops. Wrong me. Mental exercise.
This afternoon, I was sitting in my hammock reading about poetry. My favorite thing. More sarcasm. It's no wonder I couldn't focus. So, I looked across my room and noticed my bike. Let's go for a bike ride! Ladies and gentlemen, it is JANUARY and I went for a bike ride without my jacket. The terrain here is different than I'm used to and I'm completely out of shape, but even my short bike ride was enough to get some exercise, clear my brain, and enjoy the wonderful weather.
One of my suitemates is currently taking violin for the first time. Back in the day, I used to play viola. Not well, mind you, but I played never the less. Everyone took a turn trying to play her violin and everyone sounded awful. Sorry, girls. When it was my turn, I played an old simple song I remembered and jaws dropped. I remind you, I am not a good violist, but it was great to have a stringed instrument in my hands again. Excellent exercise for my fingers and my brain.
Part one of my Christmas present arrived in the mail today, our Wii. I call it the "you and your suitemates aren't good enough at killing time" gift. It was later followed by a Wii Fit, the "you need to lose weight" aspect of the gift. Huh? The Wii Fit isn't here yet but my shoulder hurts from bowling and tennis. More physical exercise.
However, the most challenging exercise happened in my night class. This is the first time we've met, but the professor has had all of us as his students previously. Prior to even handing out the syllabus, he stated a vague situation and gave us an hour to respond to it privately. This was an excellent writing exercise in my religion class, and I might post what I wrote tomorrow. Really, it was a masked-exercise in discovering Christology. However, it was hard! An emotional and spiritual battle. At the end of class, the professor apologized for "any tear and sweat this may have caused." It caused both. Spiritual and emotional exercise.
Are you in shape? Relationally? Emotionally? Physically? Mentally? Most importantly, spiritually?
<>< Katie
PS: Yes, I realize this was kind of a "I had peanut butter on my bagel instead of cream cheese" post and no one really cares, but it was just a very interesting day and I think you should hear about it. I tried to tie it together. Oh, and I don't really believe the Wii Fit joke aspect of the Christmas present, by the way.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
"Yeah, You're all I want."
Even though she's not here, my roommate's computer is playing music. Since I'm only half-listening and half-enjoying it, I haven't gotten up to turn it off yet. One of the songs that just played was "Everything" by Lifehouse.
My freshman year, my FOCUS team did the famous Lifehouse Skit...I'd like to note that this was before the Lifehouse skit was cool... we made it cool. Just kidding. Sort of.
Anyway. It's been several years since I've prayed/practiced/performed that skit, but when I heard it begin to play, my world stopped. I mentally took my place on the stage and envisioned us creating temptations to seperate one of us from Christ. As the music speeds up, the temptations gather in closer to challenge and fight with the girl as she gropes for Christ. When this part began to play, I started to fight. I could feel the pushing and shoving from my focus siblings as we struggled to push down our protagonist. I saw the bruises on her knees from falling. I could smell the coffee-soda-water mix we used for alcohol. I was there on that stage with the bright lights as we pushed away from Christ. Remembering that ultimately He would slam the temptations down and dance with His beloved again.
Think about a time when you strayed from Christ. Think about a time when you (intentionally, unintentionally, successfully, or unsuccessfully) contributed to someone else's stumbling. Remember the awesomeness of dancing with your Abba Father. Take His hand and don't look back.
<>< Katie
My freshman year, my FOCUS team did the famous Lifehouse Skit...I'd like to note that this was before the Lifehouse skit was cool... we made it cool. Just kidding. Sort of.
Anyway. It's been several years since I've prayed/practiced/performed that skit, but when I heard it begin to play, my world stopped. I mentally took my place on the stage and envisioned us creating temptations to seperate one of us from Christ. As the music speeds up, the temptations gather in closer to challenge and fight with the girl as she gropes for Christ. When this part began to play, I started to fight. I could feel the pushing and shoving from my focus siblings as we struggled to push down our protagonist. I saw the bruises on her knees from falling. I could smell the coffee-soda-water mix we used for alcohol. I was there on that stage with the bright lights as we pushed away from Christ. Remembering that ultimately He would slam the temptations down and dance with His beloved again.
Think about a time when you strayed from Christ. Think about a time when you (intentionally, unintentionally, successfully, or unsuccessfully) contributed to someone else's stumbling. Remember the awesomeness of dancing with your Abba Father. Take His hand and don't look back.
<>< Katie
Monday, October 5, 2009
Isaiah 40
I helped host a youth lock-in this weekend concluding with a worship service on Sunday morning.
This year, I'm reading through the Bible and right now I'm in Isaiah. The passage for Friday night--ok, 3am on Saturday morning while I secluded myself for some time with God (and sleep) but could hear the youth wreaking havoc around the building--was Isaiah 40. "The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will no grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:28b-31
I read that passage aloud to my friend Jeanie who was responsible for coming up with something for the Scripture reading on Sunday. She had already been contemplating those verses. We laughed about the "youth growing tired and weary" part. On Saturday night, I read the verses again, this time to Sarah and Jeanie. Sunday morning, Jeanie read Isaiah 40:28-31 for the Scripture reading in church.
Now, the original plan was that the youth pastor was going to do Sunday's sermon on a passage in Revelation. Well, the youth pastor had a family emergency and the senior pastor did the sermon. We had no contact with the senior pastor--other than repeatedly running past his office on Saturday--and he came up with his sermon without knowledge of our scripture reading. Both happened to be based in Isaiah 40. Different passages; same chapter. God's sense of humor.
After church, my host mother from the night before came up to me, "Did you have a dream about a Bible passage last night?" I hadn't that I could remember. Apparently I appeared in several peoples' dreams on Saturday night and in one I was dreaming about a Bible passage. Hum... You never really know what God is doing and He does still speak through dreams.
<>< Katie
This year, I'm reading through the Bible and right now I'm in Isaiah. The passage for Friday night--ok, 3am on Saturday morning while I secluded myself for some time with God (and sleep) but could hear the youth wreaking havoc around the building--was Isaiah 40. "The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will no grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:28b-31
I read that passage aloud to my friend Jeanie who was responsible for coming up with something for the Scripture reading on Sunday. She had already been contemplating those verses. We laughed about the "youth growing tired and weary" part. On Saturday night, I read the verses again, this time to Sarah and Jeanie. Sunday morning, Jeanie read Isaiah 40:28-31 for the Scripture reading in church.
Now, the original plan was that the youth pastor was going to do Sunday's sermon on a passage in Revelation. Well, the youth pastor had a family emergency and the senior pastor did the sermon. We had no contact with the senior pastor--other than repeatedly running past his office on Saturday--and he came up with his sermon without knowledge of our scripture reading. Both happened to be based in Isaiah 40. Different passages; same chapter. God's sense of humor.
After church, my host mother from the night before came up to me, "Did you have a dream about a Bible passage last night?" I hadn't that I could remember. Apparently I appeared in several peoples' dreams on Saturday night and in one I was dreaming about a Bible passage. Hum... You never really know what God is doing and He does still speak through dreams.
<>< Katie
Friday, July 17, 2009
God's Orchestra
Being a member of God's orchestra takes practice. Lots of practice. Scales and arpeggios. Mundane. Repetitive. Focus on playing in tune. Yet the tune doesn't end when you mess up. And you will mess up. Yet the song continues. All performers must press on and put the mistakes behind him/her. Whatever you do, don't stop playing God's song. He loves to hear it, and you hold a very important place in His orchestra. He loves you.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
"Katie, I really need to find something else for you to do while I'm driving." - Rob
This weekend I went on a FOCUS trip with eight of my team members. We spent the entire weekend hanging out with middle and high school kids at a church about an hour from campus. We had a blast! (Well, except for that no sleep part... about that...)
On Saturday afternoon the youth all loaded their van and our team of eight piled into Rob's family's '91 Taurus. We were literally piled on top of each other... Three of us were shoved in the front seat where we each hardly had enough room to breathe. Liz was talking with her hands one time and almost hit Rob (our driver) in the head. If the car would have crashed, I would have taken a hockey stick to the appendix... As squished as we were, the people in the second seat had it much worse off. There were four of them squeezed to the point where they were sitting on top of each other. Gena's pet alligator, Pete, was poking Liz in the head, Tara's knees couldn't move, and Carrie had baby powder everywhere (Pete, the hockey stick, and the baby powder are another story for another time... don't ask... my FOCUS team is a bit... er... odd... er... AMAZING!).
We were told this would be a five minute drive, we didn't understand that by "five minutes" the youth leader meant "at least thirty minutes." I don't know how many of you have ridden with Rob behind the wheel and lived to tell the tale, but according to Natalie, "Rob driving is enough to get anyone praying!" We were all praying piled into this station wagon like sardines in a car... Rob had to floor the gas petal in order to get us to move a all. We were lucky not to rear-end anyone because they stopped too quickly... Honestly, I think if we'd have gone over a speed bump we would have lost some car parts because we were riding that low to the ground. The youth in the van were teasing us because we weren't keeping up with them, but really we were going as fast as we could! So, we're all terrified and piled in too close together; it's raining and we're not sure if we're going to make it out of the car alive... We realized in the trunk of the station wagon was our buddy Keith, who plays Jesus in every skit we do, was fast asleep. So there we were, terrified we were going to die and Jesus is in the back sleeping... Sound familiar?
It is safe to say we made it to our destination and back to the church without anyone dying, but there were some close calls!
<>< Katie
"A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion." Mark 4:37-38a
On Saturday afternoon the youth all loaded their van and our team of eight piled into Rob's family's '91 Taurus. We were literally piled on top of each other... Three of us were shoved in the front seat where we each hardly had enough room to breathe. Liz was talking with her hands one time and almost hit Rob (our driver) in the head. If the car would have crashed, I would have taken a hockey stick to the appendix... As squished as we were, the people in the second seat had it much worse off. There were four of them squeezed to the point where they were sitting on top of each other. Gena's pet alligator, Pete, was poking Liz in the head, Tara's knees couldn't move, and Carrie had baby powder everywhere (Pete, the hockey stick, and the baby powder are another story for another time... don't ask... my FOCUS team is a bit... er... odd... er... AMAZING!).
We were told this would be a five minute drive, we didn't understand that by "five minutes" the youth leader meant "at least thirty minutes." I don't know how many of you have ridden with Rob behind the wheel and lived to tell the tale, but according to Natalie, "Rob driving is enough to get anyone praying!" We were all praying piled into this station wagon like sardines in a car... Rob had to floor the gas petal in order to get us to move a all. We were lucky not to rear-end anyone because they stopped too quickly... Honestly, I think if we'd have gone over a speed bump we would have lost some car parts because we were riding that low to the ground. The youth in the van were teasing us because we weren't keeping up with them, but really we were going as fast as we could! So, we're all terrified and piled in too close together; it's raining and we're not sure if we're going to make it out of the car alive... We realized in the trunk of the station wagon was our buddy Keith, who plays Jesus in every skit we do, was fast asleep. So there we were, terrified we were going to die and Jesus is in the back sleeping... Sound familiar?
It is safe to say we made it to our destination and back to the church without anyone dying, but there were some close calls!
<>< Katie
"A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion." Mark 4:37-38a
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