A friend asked for my help with his Twitter. He gave me his password, told me he trusts me, and left the country. True story.
I logged in on my phone, did what he asked me to do (and only what he asked me to do), and moved on with my day.
A few hours later, I was scrolling down Twitter and realized this was not my feed. In case there was ever a question, I am not following Sesame Street, REI, and the Minnesota Vikings on Twitter.
Before switching back to my own Twitter, I took a gander along his home page, curious about what I would find. It seemed really intimate and stalker-ish. I mean, your Twitter feed is personal to you; no one else is following exactly the same people that you are. What did my friend see when he logged on to Twitter? What was he filling his brain with privately?
Nothing I found surprised me. Amused: Yes. Surprised: Nope. Every person and business that caught my eye fit his personality, his hobbies, his passions, and how he presents himself. According to his Twitter feed, he is who he says he is.
I switched back to my own Twitter and wondered about who I have chosen to follow.
Does my feed say that I am who I am?
Does it represent my passions, my hobbies, and my favorite things?
How often does tasteless language appear on my homepage?
What am I putting into my mind?
Of course, this doesn't only apply to Twitter.
What are you feeding yourself?
Through your Twitter, the blogs you read, the tv you watch, the people you spend time with, the books you read, etc.
If you can tell a lot about a person from what he or she posts on Twitter, then what am I showing? Goodness knows I share a lot.
As I shared last week, a sister in Christ when home to heaven unexpectedly. The world has leapt all over the fact that her final Tweet was a prayer of thanksgiving for another year of life.
We Christians can't help but smile at God's sense of humor and omniscience.
The secular world uses it as a warning that if you Tweet-pray, God might kill you.
Sorry. I hope my last Tweet is a prayer, a scripture, or a powerful song lyric. After I'm gone, I'd much rather everyone see my faith than whatever silly thing my roommates said or the cat did.
Take some conscious time today to objectively pay attention to the following things:
1. What are you seeing? Reading? Inhaling?
2 .What are you posting? Saying? Exhaling?
Are they consistent? Are they consistent in who you are and the Jesus you represent?
<>< Katie
PS: If you see something questionable in my life or on my feed, I trust that you'd be kind enough to call me out on it.
Showing posts with label Twitter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Twitter. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
For His Glory No Matter What
I saw the ambulance. I was sitting in the front window of the coffee shop when it whizzed by. I zoned out watching it, noticing it was EMS rather than the local rescue team. Didn't mean much.
From the front window of the coffee shop you can see everything that's happening in town. I could see the ambulance was not headed towards the nursing home. It could have been headed towards campus, but I couldn't tell. Didn't mean much.
It did prompt me to think about how we have not lost a student since I started. Sure, students have had seizures, passed out, dislocated shoulders in class but they've all been fine in a few hours or days. We've lost professors, staff members, and family members. But never a student.
I went back to my work.
Not long after that, I saw the same ambulance return in the direction from which it came, sirens still on. I thought about Tweeting about how it's not a good sign when an ambulance returns from a call with its lights and siren.
Despite the town only having one stoplight, despite my roommate working in campus ministries, despite seeing the ambulance, I learned from Twitter that one of my sisters in Christ had passed away.
The world stopped.
I didn't recognize her name, but I knew her face. I definitely knew her face. I've heard her testimony.
It was her birthday.
The night before she'd Tweeted that she was excited for the next day. I'm sure she had no idea how exciting it would be for her. She got to celebrate her earthly birthday with the Lord.
That morning, she'd Tweeted and thanked the Lord for another year of her life. That night, He took her home.
Sniffles and tears were overwhelming at our weekly worship service last night. My roommate had hugged her the morning she went Home. Others had been in her class. We were all grieving.
And it's ok to cry. It's ok to be sad. Jesus was. When His friend Lazarus died, the Bible says Jesus wept.
Yet still there was an element of joy in the air. We knew (and know) that she is with the Lord.
You see, this sister I never had the pleasure to hug, loved the Lord. A lot.
We know that her death is not in vain. We know that she's in the arms of our Father. We know that she would be overjoyed if everyone (if anyone) came to know the Lord through her death.
We celebrated. We praised the Lord. We know that He is good even when life is bad. His timing is perfect even when ours is a little off.
Yes, it's hard. Yes, we thought He was going to do a lot more with her on this earth. Yes, we know that her testimony will continue to inspire, to encourage, and to draw people to Him. It's all she wanted to do with her life and now in her death.
That's what I want my life and death to be about: the glory of the Lord. Today. Tomorrow. Every day until I'm called home. And even then.
If you don't mind, can you take a few seconds right now and pray for us? Pray for her family. Pray for her friends, roommates, and colleagues. Pray for this campus, this town. Thank God that He took one of His children home rather than a student who didn't know Him. Thank Him for His goodness and journeying with us.
But don't pray for her. It's not necessary. She's ok because she's in the arms of the Father. And if she's not in heaven, then we're all in trouble. But I know she is.
And next time you see an ambulance, do me a favor and pray for the patient, the team, and the team meeting him/her. Pray for the family, the friends. Pray that God be glorified as He as been here.
This verse was very important to her. It is now very important to me.
"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek." Romans 1:16
Today's a gift, friends. It's the most important day of your life. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow isn't promised.
You never know when you're going to be called home. It could be in the middle of class on your 21st birthday.
And I'm ok with that.
<>< Katie
From the front window of the coffee shop you can see everything that's happening in town. I could see the ambulance was not headed towards the nursing home. It could have been headed towards campus, but I couldn't tell. Didn't mean much.
It did prompt me to think about how we have not lost a student since I started. Sure, students have had seizures, passed out, dislocated shoulders in class but they've all been fine in a few hours or days. We've lost professors, staff members, and family members. But never a student.
I went back to my work.
Not long after that, I saw the same ambulance return in the direction from which it came, sirens still on. I thought about Tweeting about how it's not a good sign when an ambulance returns from a call with its lights and siren.
Despite the town only having one stoplight, despite my roommate working in campus ministries, despite seeing the ambulance, I learned from Twitter that one of my sisters in Christ had passed away.
The world stopped.
I didn't recognize her name, but I knew her face. I definitely knew her face. I've heard her testimony.
It was her birthday.
The night before she'd Tweeted that she was excited for the next day. I'm sure she had no idea how exciting it would be for her. She got to celebrate her earthly birthday with the Lord.
That morning, she'd Tweeted and thanked the Lord for another year of her life. That night, He took her home.
Sniffles and tears were overwhelming at our weekly worship service last night. My roommate had hugged her the morning she went Home. Others had been in her class. We were all grieving.
And it's ok to cry. It's ok to be sad. Jesus was. When His friend Lazarus died, the Bible says Jesus wept.
Yet still there was an element of joy in the air. We knew (and know) that she is with the Lord.
You see, this sister I never had the pleasure to hug, loved the Lord. A lot.
We know that her death is not in vain. We know that she's in the arms of our Father. We know that she would be overjoyed if everyone (if anyone) came to know the Lord through her death.
We celebrated. We praised the Lord. We know that He is good even when life is bad. His timing is perfect even when ours is a little off.
Yes, it's hard. Yes, we thought He was going to do a lot more with her on this earth. Yes, we know that her testimony will continue to inspire, to encourage, and to draw people to Him. It's all she wanted to do with her life and now in her death.
That's what I want my life and death to be about: the glory of the Lord. Today. Tomorrow. Every day until I'm called home. And even then.
If you don't mind, can you take a few seconds right now and pray for us? Pray for her family. Pray for her friends, roommates, and colleagues. Pray for this campus, this town. Thank God that He took one of His children home rather than a student who didn't know Him. Thank Him for His goodness and journeying with us.
But don't pray for her. It's not necessary. She's ok because she's in the arms of the Father. And if she's not in heaven, then we're all in trouble. But I know she is.
And next time you see an ambulance, do me a favor and pray for the patient, the team, and the team meeting him/her. Pray for the family, the friends. Pray that God be glorified as He as been here.
This verse was very important to her. It is now very important to me.
"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek." Romans 1:16
Today's a gift, friends. It's the most important day of your life. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow isn't promised.
You never know when you're going to be called home. It could be in the middle of class on your 21st birthday.
And I'm ok with that.
<>< Katie
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Why Not Today?
"You need a new phone."
I've been told that regularly for the last two years. They're right: I do need a new phone. When I started college the question was always, "Is that the new model?" Now that I've graduated, same phone in pocket, the question has become "When do you get an upgrade?"
They want me to make the leap into the twenty-first century and go from a dumb phone that only texts and calls to a smart phone that does everything except brush your teeth for you.
"With as much time as you spend on Facebook and Twitter, you're going to love it!"
That's what they all say. And they're probably right. I wish I could Tweet on the go, always had my email at my fingertips, and my text message inbox didn't remain at 98 percent full. The upgrade won't break my budget and the thirty dollars a month data plan is feasible.
Weeks of second-guessing and questioning led up to the moment when I signed the check. Knowing full well what I was doing, I handed it to Brent. He handed me a receipt.
Smile* was mine.
My check was not for thirty dollars. It was for thirty-eight. If I could feasibly pay thirty dollars a month just to have the internet with me wherever I went, how could I not spend thirty-eight dollars a month making sure a child had food?
For years I have been the primary letter writer for Maria, our family's sponsored child in Columbia. That means the misunderstanding about us having fourteen grandchildren... yeah, I'm culpable.
I knew someday I'd sponsor a child through Compassion. The question that ragged on my heart was: Why is that someday not today? I was out of excuses.
For a dollar and twenty-five cents a day, I can provide Smile with food. That's not even the cost of one cup of coffee. That's one small fries from McDonald's.
Let's be real: I don't have a lot of money. But I have enough. I'm not worrying about going hungry. Smile is.
Katie: God, why are you providing for me but not for Your children in third world countries? Is food not a necessity?
God: I am providing. Katie, I am providing you.
It's going to be a sacrifice. I want (borderline need) a new phone, but it's going to have to wait.
There's a little girl in El Salvador who needs an education. She needs medical care. She needs hope, esperanza. She needs to know someone cares. That someone is an unemployed hispanohablante in the US. That Someone is her Heavenly Father.
Why not today?
<>< Katie
*not her real name
PS: This is my story of how God led me to child sponsorship through Compassion. It might be reckless to commit to $38/month with no income. But I know the Lord and saw His hand in this decision long before I signed the check. I trust He will provide, and I've seen Him do so already. If that means I have to eat peanut butter and jelly for a week (I hate pbj) so Smile can eat rice and beans, so be it.
I've been told that regularly for the last two years. They're right: I do need a new phone. When I started college the question was always, "Is that the new model?" Now that I've graduated, same phone in pocket, the question has become "When do you get an upgrade?"
They want me to make the leap into the twenty-first century and go from a dumb phone that only texts and calls to a smart phone that does everything except brush your teeth for you.
"With as much time as you spend on Facebook and Twitter, you're going to love it!"
That's what they all say. And they're probably right. I wish I could Tweet on the go, always had my email at my fingertips, and my text message inbox didn't remain at 98 percent full. The upgrade won't break my budget and the thirty dollars a month data plan is feasible.
Weeks of second-guessing and questioning led up to the moment when I signed the check. Knowing full well what I was doing, I handed it to Brent. He handed me a receipt.
Smile* was mine.
My check was not for thirty dollars. It was for thirty-eight. If I could feasibly pay thirty dollars a month just to have the internet with me wherever I went, how could I not spend thirty-eight dollars a month making sure a child had food?
For years I have been the primary letter writer for Maria, our family's sponsored child in Columbia. That means the misunderstanding about us having fourteen grandchildren... yeah, I'm culpable.
I knew someday I'd sponsor a child through Compassion. The question that ragged on my heart was: Why is that someday not today? I was out of excuses.
For a dollar and twenty-five cents a day, I can provide Smile with food. That's not even the cost of one cup of coffee. That's one small fries from McDonald's.
Let's be real: I don't have a lot of money. But I have enough. I'm not worrying about going hungry. Smile is.
Katie: God, why are you providing for me but not for Your children in third world countries? Is food not a necessity?
God: I am providing. Katie, I am providing you.
It's going to be a sacrifice. I want (borderline need) a new phone, but it's going to have to wait.
There's a little girl in El Salvador who needs an education. She needs medical care. She needs hope, esperanza. She needs to know someone cares. That someone is an unemployed hispanohablante in the US. That Someone is her Heavenly Father.
Why not today?
<>< Katie
*not her real name
PS: This is my story of how God led me to child sponsorship through Compassion. It might be reckless to commit to $38/month with no income. But I know the Lord and saw His hand in this decision long before I signed the check. I trust He will provide, and I've seen Him do so already. If that means I have to eat peanut butter and jelly for a week (I hate pbj) so Smile can eat rice and beans, so be it.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Child-Like Prayer
"What if we woke up today with only the things we thanked God for yesterday?"
I like quotes. I read a lot of them throughout the day, especially on Twitter (@KatieAx3). But this one struck me in a way few have.
Instantly, I began thanking God for everything within my gaze.
Thanks for the glass of water, the coaster, and the table.
Thanks for that still-life picture on the wall.
Thanks for the dog pooping on the hairy floor and the paper towels to clean it up. Thanks for the floor. And the hair, too.
It seemed a little ridiculous. But it was good. I felt like a kid again.
Have you ever had the opportunity to hear small children pray?
When asked to bless the food, they sometimes remember it among their thanking God for freckles, gum, and the sand box. While sometimes I get impatient (I remember the now-cold food on the table), I think God appreciates it.
No, more than appreciates it.
I think God loves it.
He loves hearing His children (even His big children) talk to Him throughout the day. He loves being appreciated for His work, being called on in times of need, and being praised through the storms of life. He loves hearing what's on our hearts and minds. No matter how life-changing. No matter how mundane.
He doesn't think prayers about freckles are silly. After all, He put the freckles there.
He put the bird on the satellite dish that's blurring my show. He put those skin cells on my body just to fall off and become the dust on that piano. He put the water in the sky to rain to the earth to be filtered and come out my faucet to fill my cup to quench my thirst (and drench my shirt).
Just because we take things for granted doesn't mean He didn't put them there.
"What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?"
Today, try talking to your Abba Father like a child. After all, "The kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Luke 18:16)
<>< Katie
I like quotes. I read a lot of them throughout the day, especially on Twitter (@KatieAx3). But this one struck me in a way few have.
Instantly, I began thanking God for everything within my gaze.
Thanks for the glass of water, the coaster, and the table.
Thanks for that still-life picture on the wall.
Thanks for the dog pooping on the hairy floor and the paper towels to clean it up. Thanks for the floor. And the hair, too.
It seemed a little ridiculous. But it was good. I felt like a kid again.
Have you ever had the opportunity to hear small children pray?
When asked to bless the food, they sometimes remember it among their thanking God for freckles, gum, and the sand box. While sometimes I get impatient (I remember the now-cold food on the table), I think God appreciates it.
No, more than appreciates it.
I think God loves it.
He loves hearing His children (even His big children) talk to Him throughout the day. He loves being appreciated for His work, being called on in times of need, and being praised through the storms of life. He loves hearing what's on our hearts and minds. No matter how life-changing. No matter how mundane.
He doesn't think prayers about freckles are silly. After all, He put the freckles there.
He put the bird on the satellite dish that's blurring my show. He put those skin cells on my body just to fall off and become the dust on that piano. He put the water in the sky to rain to the earth to be filtered and come out my faucet to fill my cup to quench my thirst (and drench my shirt).
Just because we take things for granted doesn't mean He didn't put them there.
"What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?"
Today, try talking to your Abba Father like a child. After all, "The kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Luke 18:16)
<>< Katie
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