"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.
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
Luch With Christ
My phone alarm rang: luch with Christ.
Yeah, that was really supposed to read "Lunch with Christa." Someone must have been in a hurry.
Yet that someone can't help but laugh at the irony. "Luchar" is a Spanish verb which means "to fight." While "Luch" isn't actually a word, it's similar enough.
Fight with Christ: 12:10.
As much as I hate to admit it, I fight with Christ. And it's more than just at 12:10.
<>< Katie
In other news, Happy Reformation Day!
And Happy Deep-Breath Day... NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow and I'm participating for the first time. The idea is that you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. So, I apologize if I'm more sparse on your dashboard, but "every word on your blog is one less word in your novel" (I forget who said that, but it wasn't me).
Also, I'm thinking about making some changes on my blog in the future, and I would love to hear your feedback. What do you want to see more of? Less of? What haven't I done that you'd like to see? What do you never want to see again? You can post your feedback in the comments or email me at KatieAxelson[at]gmail[dot]com. I promise, I won't hate you for being honest (at least not forever).
Yeah, that was really supposed to read "Lunch with Christa." Someone must have been in a hurry.
Yet that someone can't help but laugh at the irony. "Luchar" is a Spanish verb which means "to fight." While "Luch" isn't actually a word, it's similar enough.
Fight with Christ: 12:10.
As much as I hate to admit it, I fight with Christ. And it's more than just at 12:10.
<>< Katie
In other news, Happy Reformation Day!
And Happy Deep-Breath Day... NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow and I'm participating for the first time. The idea is that you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. So, I apologize if I'm more sparse on your dashboard, but "every word on your blog is one less word in your novel" (I forget who said that, but it wasn't me).
Also, I'm thinking about making some changes on my blog in the future, and I would love to hear your feedback. What do you want to see more of? Less of? What haven't I done that you'd like to see? What do you never want to see again? You can post your feedback in the comments or email me at KatieAxelson[at]gmail[dot]com. I promise, I won't hate you for being honest (at least not forever).
Friday, June 24, 2011
Sharing Life
They didn't know I was in town. I knew I couldn't leave without seeing them.
After dinner one evening, I gave them a call. No answer. I called their cell phone. No answer. I called the house phone again. Still no answer.
"What do you want to do?" Laura asked. "Do you want to go over there and check or just wait awhile?"
I hesitated. There are some people in my life that the best (read: only) way to get a hold of them is face-to-face.
"Do you mind if we just run over there?"
She didn't.
We figured they were having Family Time. The phone does not interrupt Family Time but Katie and Laura are welcome to Family Time.
We were wrong.
The phone went unanswered because Ruth was out walking the dog. When we pulled up beside her she gave us a small wave. Her eyes were teary. We parked and ran over to hug her.
"Jesus sent you to me!" She said. Twice.
Her father who, despite being in his 90s, had been doing relatively well had taken a bad turn. She didn't know if he had hours to live or weeks. She didn't know if he'd still me alive in a week when they made the cross-country trip home. She didn't know if she wanted the opportunity to say goodbye or if she would prefer he pass quickly rather than suffer. It had only been a month since her mother went home to heaven.
The three of us walked around the neighborhood hand in hand, tear in tear. Then we sat on the couch together, journeyed back through life, and cried some more. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we blubbered. Sometimes we sat in silence. We shared life.
We prayed to God. We praised God. We questioned God. We said, "Thy will be done."
Thanks to her sons, we were the hill in a painful rendition of King of the Hill. We were drooled on by the dog. We cleaned up the kitchen.
Laura and I had no idea what to expect when we decided just to go over. But we're so glad we did. God was using us and, at first, we had no idea.
Be intentional. Life is messy: share it with someone. Drop in to check on a friend. Let God provide your shoulder, your hug, your friendship for someone in need. You never know when your smile is the highlight of their day. When your kind word is really the Holy Spirit speaking directly to their heart.
<>< Katie
UPDATE: Earlier this week Ruth sat at her father's bedside and heard him draw his last breath before he went Home to his Father's House. Please take a minute to pray for the family as they are grieving but also rejoicing that he's now healthy and whole.
After dinner one evening, I gave them a call. No answer. I called their cell phone. No answer. I called the house phone again. Still no answer.
"What do you want to do?" Laura asked. "Do you want to go over there and check or just wait awhile?"
I hesitated. There are some people in my life that the best (read: only) way to get a hold of them is face-to-face.
"Do you mind if we just run over there?"
She didn't.
We figured they were having Family Time. The phone does not interrupt Family Time but Katie and Laura are welcome to Family Time.
We were wrong.
The phone went unanswered because Ruth was out walking the dog. When we pulled up beside her she gave us a small wave. Her eyes were teary. We parked and ran over to hug her.
"Jesus sent you to me!" She said. Twice.
Her father who, despite being in his 90s, had been doing relatively well had taken a bad turn. She didn't know if he had hours to live or weeks. She didn't know if he'd still me alive in a week when they made the cross-country trip home. She didn't know if she wanted the opportunity to say goodbye or if she would prefer he pass quickly rather than suffer. It had only been a month since her mother went home to heaven.
The three of us walked around the neighborhood hand in hand, tear in tear. Then we sat on the couch together, journeyed back through life, and cried some more. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we blubbered. Sometimes we sat in silence. We shared life.
We prayed to God. We praised God. We questioned God. We said, "Thy will be done."
Thanks to her sons, we were the hill in a painful rendition of King of the Hill. We were drooled on by the dog. We cleaned up the kitchen.
Laura and I had no idea what to expect when we decided just to go over. But we're so glad we did. God was using us and, at first, we had no idea.
Be intentional. Life is messy: share it with someone. Drop in to check on a friend. Let God provide your shoulder, your hug, your friendship for someone in need. You never know when your smile is the highlight of their day. When your kind word is really the Holy Spirit speaking directly to their heart.
<>< Katie
UPDATE: Earlier this week Ruth sat at her father's bedside and heard him draw his last breath before he went Home to his Father's House. Please take a minute to pray for the family as they are grieving but also rejoicing that he's now healthy and whole.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
God's Character
Last night I dreamed I got an email from my friend Whitney. She was leaving her job and looking for a new one. The email that I had to read twice described in detail her ideal job and asked if I had any suggestions for where she should start looking. Right, ask the unemployed for a job idea. Good call.
First thing when I woke up this morning was reach for my phone. I needed to hear again why Whitney was leaving her job after only a year and a half. As I typed out the text message, I replayed the dream in my head.
Something wasn't adding up:
- The email. Whitney and I rarely email. We prefer facebook, text messages, and Skype.
- The job. While the transition into this job has been a struggle, Whitney regularly tells me how it's a blessing, a prayed-for job.
- The idea job. What she described is essentially where she is.
I never sent her the text. I knew she wasn't leaving her job. Why? Because I know Whitney. I know how much Whitney loves her job, enjoys what she does, and sees God work in it. Knowing Whitney's character helped me differentiate between what was a dream and what was reality.
Just like I know Whitney, I want to know God. I want to know His character so well that in musing and praying over something, I can tell whether it was from Him or the enemy. I want to be aware of whether what is happening is consistent with the God I see in the Bible, the God I experience on the daily basis, and the God I know to be real.
If it's not, stop! Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
If it is, proceed, pursuing His will. Always.
<>< Katie
PS: Just because Whitney and I don't usually converse via email doesn't mean we can't. Just because God doesn't usually get your attention through a medium as crazy as He and I often use doesn't mean He can't or won't.
First thing when I woke up this morning was reach for my phone. I needed to hear again why Whitney was leaving her job after only a year and a half. As I typed out the text message, I replayed the dream in my head.
Something wasn't adding up:
- The email. Whitney and I rarely email. We prefer facebook, text messages, and Skype.
- The job. While the transition into this job has been a struggle, Whitney regularly tells me how it's a blessing, a prayed-for job.
- The idea job. What she described is essentially where she is.
I never sent her the text. I knew she wasn't leaving her job. Why? Because I know Whitney. I know how much Whitney loves her job, enjoys what she does, and sees God work in it. Knowing Whitney's character helped me differentiate between what was a dream and what was reality.
Just like I know Whitney, I want to know God. I want to know His character so well that in musing and praying over something, I can tell whether it was from Him or the enemy. I want to be aware of whether what is happening is consistent with the God I see in the Bible, the God I experience on the daily basis, and the God I know to be real.
If it's not, stop! Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
If it is, proceed, pursuing His will. Always.
<>< Katie
PS: Just because Whitney and I don't usually converse via email doesn't mean we can't. Just because God doesn't usually get your attention through a medium as crazy as He and I often use doesn't mean He can't or won't.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Wacky Wednesday
Just another day in the life...
Christina (from the back seat of the van): Mom, can I text you a photo of my toe? It hurts.
Mom (passenger seat): No, I can probably see it just as well from here.
"That's not a llama that's a little girl. Oh, they put sunglasses on the llama's butt. That's obscene. Oh, it was a dog's butt not a llama's butt. Oh, look it's a little kid riding a bike again. I saw this kid already. No, it's a different kid. Why do none of these kids wear helmets?! Oh, wait, it is the same kid crashing into the mailbox. I don't know if it's the same kid or not. THESE KIDS NEED HELMETS! Woman tossing monkey. Monkey tossing woman. Now there's a gorilla on top of a post." - Mom's play-by-play of America's Funniest Home Videos
Christina: There's a cat outside somewhere.
Katie: Oh! I see it! It's a bunny.
Christina had just finished telling some "really funny" story and no one laughed.
Christina: OK, well, I guess it was just really funny in my head.
Mom: Well, I hope so because it wasn't really funny in any of our heads.
Laura's in the family room video chatting with her friend Jake who's currently in Louisiana. I was sitting there as well, and Jake asks for Christina to come downstairs and video chat, too, so we'd all be there. Laura texts Tina and she responds that she's sleeping. "Clearly she's not since she's texting," Jake said, picking up his phone. He then calls Christina. The two of us in the family room could hear Christina's voice from upstairs... through the computer... through Jake's phone... in Louisiana.
Dad: Why is there one egg on the counter?
Mom: I'm making cookies later.
Dad: Oh, of course, why didn't I think of that?
Katie: Gar! I don't want to read this manuscript. I want to write my own manuscript.
Mom: It is a writing internship.
Katie: I'm switching my POV from third--my favorite POV--to first because I think it will work better, but I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do that.
Mom: That's why Cindy keeps all of her choir music.
Huh?
In the middle of a hamburger dinner I almost shot milk out my nose. Everyone looked at me, but I couldn't defend myself since I was at risk of choking... Instead I picked up the mustard and turned it around so they could all see the expiration date: June 4, 2007. I swallowed and we all laughed that the mustard expired before I graduated. (Throughout high school I'd keep track of what expired after I graduated, and I said the scary day would be when the milk expired after I graduated). We threw away that mustard and Mom went to the fridge to get another one. "Oh, good," she said, "now we only have four open mustards!"
Mom: You're writing this down? For your blog?
Katie: Yeah.
Mom: Great... I'm never going to be able to get a job again.
Katie: No, I blog you as "Para Salin" or "Sarah Palin."
Mom: Oh, ok, instead you're screwing the future of this country instead of just my future.
Katie: You're the weird one.
Laura: Katie, you talk too much!
Katie: Laura, you listen too little!
<>< Katie
Christina (from the back seat of the van): Mom, can I text you a photo of my toe? It hurts.
Mom (passenger seat): No, I can probably see it just as well from here.
"That's not a llama that's a little girl. Oh, they put sunglasses on the llama's butt. That's obscene. Oh, it was a dog's butt not a llama's butt. Oh, look it's a little kid riding a bike again. I saw this kid already. No, it's a different kid. Why do none of these kids wear helmets?! Oh, wait, it is the same kid crashing into the mailbox. I don't know if it's the same kid or not. THESE KIDS NEED HELMETS! Woman tossing monkey. Monkey tossing woman. Now there's a gorilla on top of a post." - Mom's play-by-play of America's Funniest Home Videos
Christina: There's a cat outside somewhere.
Katie: Oh! I see it! It's a bunny.
Christina had just finished telling some "really funny" story and no one laughed.
Christina: OK, well, I guess it was just really funny in my head.
Mom: Well, I hope so because it wasn't really funny in any of our heads.
Laura's in the family room video chatting with her friend Jake who's currently in Louisiana. I was sitting there as well, and Jake asks for Christina to come downstairs and video chat, too, so we'd all be there. Laura texts Tina and she responds that she's sleeping. "Clearly she's not since she's texting," Jake said, picking up his phone. He then calls Christina. The two of us in the family room could hear Christina's voice from upstairs... through the computer... through Jake's phone... in Louisiana.
Dad: Why is there one egg on the counter?
Mom: I'm making cookies later.
Dad: Oh, of course, why didn't I think of that?
Katie: Gar! I don't want to read this manuscript. I want to write my own manuscript.
Mom: It is a writing internship.
Katie: I'm switching my POV from third--my favorite POV--to first because I think it will work better, but I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do that.
Mom: That's why Cindy keeps all of her choir music.
Huh?
In the middle of a hamburger dinner I almost shot milk out my nose. Everyone looked at me, but I couldn't defend myself since I was at risk of choking... Instead I picked up the mustard and turned it around so they could all see the expiration date: June 4, 2007. I swallowed and we all laughed that the mustard expired before I graduated. (Throughout high school I'd keep track of what expired after I graduated, and I said the scary day would be when the milk expired after I graduated). We threw away that mustard and Mom went to the fridge to get another one. "Oh, good," she said, "now we only have four open mustards!"
Mom: You're writing this down? For your blog?
Katie: Yeah.
Mom: Great... I'm never going to be able to get a job again.
Katie: No, I blog you as "Para Salin" or "Sarah Palin."
Mom: Oh, ok, instead you're screwing the future of this country instead of just my future.
Katie: You're the weird one.
Laura: Katie, you talk too much!
Katie: Laura, you listen too little!
<>< Katie
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Wrong Number
It's Friday morning (ok, early afternoon). I'm sitting in the den blogging with my feet above the desktop keyboard to where I have to reach around my knees to type. No one else understands how I do it but to me it's surprisingly comfortable. My sister Laura's in the kitchen eating breakfast, something I should do any minute. The house phone rings. Yes, we have a landline. I pick up the waterproof yellow phone in front of me to check the caller-id. I don't recognize it, so I set the phone down. Since I only live here part-time no one calls me on this number. Even when I lived here full-time every single phone conversation went something like this:
Katie: Hello?
Caller: Hey, Sarah, it's Somebody Random who just keeps talking until I have to cut her off.
Katie: This isn't Sarah. Hold on, let me find her for you.
Caller: Oh, sorry, Laura.
Katie: Not Laura either.
Caller: Wow! Christina you sound so grown up.
Katie: Keep guessing.
Caller: Freddy?
Yeah. I don't answer the phone anymore because apparently I sound like a man... Besides, if it's not for me, why answer the phone? To take a message? We have this cool machine that does that for us.
I hear Laura in the kitchen also pick up the phone and check the caller-id. She must recognize the name because she answers the phone.
Laura: Hello?
Woman: Who is this?!
Laura: Laura.
Woman: Oh. Sorry. Wrong number. Bye.
Laura: Bye.
She hangs up and bursts out laughing. "The woman spazzed when a female answers the phone! It was so funny."
After chastising her for saying her name to a stranger (In my mind the appropriate answer is, "You called me; who is this?") we had a good laugh at this stranger's wrong number. Maybe it's because I'm a writer that I want to know what her thoughts were when Laura answered the phone. Was she calling home to check on a husband she suspects is cheating? Was she expecting a young child to answer (or not answer) the phone? Is she just a freak-out lady?
We laugh, and I return to my blogging.
<>< Katie
Katie: Hello?
Caller: Hey, Sarah, it's Somebody Random who just keeps talking until I have to cut her off.
Katie: This isn't Sarah. Hold on, let me find her for you.
Caller: Oh, sorry, Laura.
Katie: Not Laura either.
Caller: Wow! Christina you sound so grown up.
Katie: Keep guessing.
Caller: Freddy?
Yeah. I don't answer the phone anymore because apparently I sound like a man... Besides, if it's not for me, why answer the phone? To take a message? We have this cool machine that does that for us.
I hear Laura in the kitchen also pick up the phone and check the caller-id. She must recognize the name because she answers the phone.
Laura: Hello?
Woman: Who is this?!
Laura: Laura.
Woman: Oh. Sorry. Wrong number. Bye.
Laura: Bye.
She hangs up and bursts out laughing. "The woman spazzed when a female answers the phone! It was so funny."
After chastising her for saying her name to a stranger (In my mind the appropriate answer is, "You called me; who is this?") we had a good laugh at this stranger's wrong number. Maybe it's because I'm a writer that I want to know what her thoughts were when Laura answered the phone. Was she calling home to check on a husband she suspects is cheating? Was she expecting a young child to answer (or not answer) the phone? Is she just a freak-out lady?
We laugh, and I return to my blogging.
<>< Katie
Friday, May 14, 2010
Finals Week
I'm kind of on a roll spilling secrets this week, so we're going to go with one more: I love exam week.
1. Boing, Boing, Boing
There is this unwritten rule against throwing bouncy balls inside the apartment. I grew up in a house with a strictly-enforced "no throwing balls in the house" rule, but apparently Andy didn't. It's not unusual to find bouncy balls whipped at you from across the room. Well, over the last semester these bouncy balls have disappeared into dark crevices of life. Since we're actively moving out, they've been reappearing and flipped into full action. Boing, boing, boing.
2. Out to Dinner
I rode an hour with my adoptive family to have dinner with my parents. It was weird to arrive with someone else, eat with those people and my parents, and leave with someone else. Just to paint the picture for you: my dad is shy, naive, and quiet. So is Ruth. Dr. Z is a strange bird, and Mom is Sarah Palin. Yes, I think we were the waitress's favorite table that day. Well, we were her only table for awhile because we scared away the rest of the guests... Oops. By the end of dinner she'd challenged my dad to go trout fishing in the lake and offered to play frisbee with Malachi in the parking lot. On the ride back, we tried to use the words "indefatigable" and "perspicacity" in normal conversation. Bonus points if you could get them both into a single sentence.
3. How did this happen?
Allyson and I use two separate bathrooms, so how we met outside one to do this I'm still not sure. I had my "gooked" electric toothbrush in my right hand held high above my head. In my left I held Allyson's left wrist. In her right hand she had an open bottle of listerine. Realizing how silly we looked we burst out laughing and couldn't figure out what we were doing. Something about Allyson wanting to turn on my toothbrush and spray toothpaste all over the apartment...
4. Breakfast of Champions
The incentive to walk to the caf to eat breakfast before an exam is virtually non-existent. Luckily, we also have to use up our points and eat all of the bizarre food we've accumulated throughout the semester. Nikki ate a re-heated hot dog, chips, and old cheese dip. Allyson ate some chocolate cake with her whipped cream. Chris, an hour away and unaware of our creativity, had a peanut butter sandwich. I feel lame for eating an apple and peanut butter (by clutching the jar of peanut butter between my knees); I really don't like apples.
5. EXPECTO PATRONUM!
Allyson's taking a conducting class right now, so her baton is waving as she prepares. Carrie borrowed said baton and turned it into a Harry Potter wand. My favorite part is when she speaks into the end of the wand so that it can hear her better. :-)
6. (in the middle of a class discussion exam)
Dr. T: Alex Haley and Malcolm X co-write the Autobiography of Malcolm X, and they both have "X" in their name. Isn't that weird?
Katie: What do you have against people that have "X"es in their names?
Dr. T: Nothing... it's just... Saxon has an "X," too, and you're sitting next to each other.
Katie: It was the "X" factor that drew us together on this side of the room.
Dr. T: My middle name is "X."
Katie: Are you lying to me?
Dr. T: It's Xavier.
Katie: You are lying to me.
The rest of the class kind of stared at us.
7. Redecorating?
Nikki: Remember that one time our phones used the same charger?
Katie: Remember that one time you asked to borrow my phone charger and I said no because you licked me?
I do remember that one time when Nikki stole my phone charger and replaced all of the photos on my bulletin board with Kleenexes... Thanks.
8. Why is Cornhole in our apartment? (aka Bean Bag Toss)
I really don't know, but we played. Who says Cornhole's an outdoor game? We played in the living room with one person standing on the Platonic Love Seat and the other standing one of the arm chairs. I'm better inside than out.
9. Four Hour Exams
It started innocently enough at 6pm. By 6:30 our class of eight was seated around Dr. Paul's dining room table eating summer chili, chocolate-covered pretzels, and (get this!) fresh strawberries. By 7:15 we were having a living room discussion of the Christology of William Paul Young as found in his book, The Shack. By 8, we'd looked up the Wii Fit. For the next two hours we pondered how "Grandaddy" was born in 1975, is 5'7", and weighs 107 pounds... Either way, he looks great while juggling, hula hooping, and flying in a chicken suit!
10. Moving
This is my least favorite part of spring exam week: studying and packing at the same time. Some of my stuff goes to storage; some of my stuff goes home. Friday means 14 hours of driving, three cars and two drivers. Wait. Switch that. I guess I'm not indefatigable. By the time you're reading this, we've probably gotten a little giggly in the car. After retelling our favorite stories we'll start playing word games. Dad's a "numbers guy" so he loves writing sentences like "Tiny Tim tinkled in the timbers" or "Blue birch-bark burn on Bob's bum." Mom's a little bit better. :-)
Bon voyage and bueno suerte,
<>< Katie
1. Boing, Boing, Boing
There is this unwritten rule against throwing bouncy balls inside the apartment. I grew up in a house with a strictly-enforced "no throwing balls in the house" rule, but apparently Andy didn't. It's not unusual to find bouncy balls whipped at you from across the room. Well, over the last semester these bouncy balls have disappeared into dark crevices of life. Since we're actively moving out, they've been reappearing and flipped into full action. Boing, boing, boing.
2. Out to Dinner
I rode an hour with my adoptive family to have dinner with my parents. It was weird to arrive with someone else, eat with those people and my parents, and leave with someone else. Just to paint the picture for you: my dad is shy, naive, and quiet. So is Ruth. Dr. Z is a strange bird, and Mom is Sarah Palin. Yes, I think we were the waitress's favorite table that day. Well, we were her only table for awhile because we scared away the rest of the guests... Oops. By the end of dinner she'd challenged my dad to go trout fishing in the lake and offered to play frisbee with Malachi in the parking lot. On the ride back, we tried to use the words "indefatigable" and "perspicacity" in normal conversation. Bonus points if you could get them both into a single sentence.
3. How did this happen?
Allyson and I use two separate bathrooms, so how we met outside one to do this I'm still not sure. I had my "gooked" electric toothbrush in my right hand held high above my head. In my left I held Allyson's left wrist. In her right hand she had an open bottle of listerine. Realizing how silly we looked we burst out laughing and couldn't figure out what we were doing. Something about Allyson wanting to turn on my toothbrush and spray toothpaste all over the apartment...
4. Breakfast of Champions
The incentive to walk to the caf to eat breakfast before an exam is virtually non-existent. Luckily, we also have to use up our points and eat all of the bizarre food we've accumulated throughout the semester. Nikki ate a re-heated hot dog, chips, and old cheese dip. Allyson ate some chocolate cake with her whipped cream. Chris, an hour away and unaware of our creativity, had a peanut butter sandwich. I feel lame for eating an apple and peanut butter (by clutching the jar of peanut butter between my knees); I really don't like apples.
5. EXPECTO PATRONUM!
Allyson's taking a conducting class right now, so her baton is waving as she prepares. Carrie borrowed said baton and turned it into a Harry Potter wand. My favorite part is when she speaks into the end of the wand so that it can hear her better. :-)
6. (in the middle of a class discussion exam)
Dr. T: Alex Haley and Malcolm X co-write the Autobiography of Malcolm X, and they both have "X" in their name. Isn't that weird?
Katie: What do you have against people that have "X"es in their names?
Dr. T: Nothing... it's just... Saxon has an "X," too, and you're sitting next to each other.
Katie: It was the "X" factor that drew us together on this side of the room.
Dr. T: My middle name is "X."
Katie: Are you lying to me?
Dr. T: It's Xavier.
Katie: You are lying to me.
The rest of the class kind of stared at us.
7. Redecorating?
Nikki: Remember that one time our phones used the same charger?
Katie: Remember that one time you asked to borrow my phone charger and I said no because you licked me?
I do remember that one time when Nikki stole my phone charger and replaced all of the photos on my bulletin board with Kleenexes... Thanks.
8. Why is Cornhole in our apartment? (aka Bean Bag Toss)
I really don't know, but we played. Who says Cornhole's an outdoor game? We played in the living room with one person standing on the Platonic Love Seat and the other standing one of the arm chairs. I'm better inside than out.
9. Four Hour Exams
It started innocently enough at 6pm. By 6:30 our class of eight was seated around Dr. Paul's dining room table eating summer chili, chocolate-covered pretzels, and (get this!) fresh strawberries. By 7:15 we were having a living room discussion of the Christology of William Paul Young as found in his book, The Shack. By 8, we'd looked up the Wii Fit. For the next two hours we pondered how "Grandaddy" was born in 1975, is 5'7", and weighs 107 pounds... Either way, he looks great while juggling, hula hooping, and flying in a chicken suit!
10. Moving
This is my least favorite part of spring exam week: studying and packing at the same time. Some of my stuff goes to storage; some of my stuff goes home. Friday means 14 hours of driving, three cars and two drivers. Wait. Switch that. I guess I'm not indefatigable. By the time you're reading this, we've probably gotten a little giggly in the car. After retelling our favorite stories we'll start playing word games. Dad's a "numbers guy" so he loves writing sentences like "Tiny Tim tinkled in the timbers" or "Blue birch-bark burn on Bob's bum." Mom's a little bit better. :-)
Bon voyage and bueno suerte,
<>< Katie
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The War is Over
Thankful for the three layers under her red winter jacket, she sits in a rocking chair on the front porch. The cars cruise down the highway, most of them obliviously to her obscure location.
Wishing she'd opted for the hot chocolate instead, she attempts to maneuver her gloved hand around the spoon in her McFlurry. Her dinner, a Taco Bell Chulupa with chicken, sits in her lap forgotten. Not unlike she is.
"You want to let me in?" she calls on her cell phone.
"Oh... uh... shoot... well... see... uh... um... we're still at the grocery store," explains the voice on the other end. "We're on our way back," he lies.
The clock tower lets out a chime. It's 5:45. According to the invitation, the Superbowl party in the boys' dorm started fifteen minutes earlier. For the first time in her life, she's glad she didn't arrive on time.
The ice cream in her cup does not threaten to melt, but she's slowly losing feeling in her fingers as she touches the plastic spoon to her lips.
"He begged me to come," she said aloud to herself, remembering the pleading facebook messages asking her to ditch the Superbowl party in her apartment to attend his. Now he's failed to arrive at his own party and left her sitting in the cold.
Ten minutes later, the ice cream is gone; she is still waiting. Suddenly, the door behind her pops open revealing the morgue turned boy's dorm as her party host bursts out into the chilling winter night. She glances at her watch and starts up at him.
"We have chips," he says with a sly smile.
Of course, chips make her frost bite worthwhile because now instead of begging for mercy, he'll beg for grace, and he'll want it in the form of cheese chip dip. Yet she'll give it. If only in the name of forgiveness and familial love.
-------
Dear Mr. Kevin Kassakatis,
I was not going to update my blog twice today. However, your tasteless, rude behavior this evening left me no choice. I have considered this your forfeiting the war and will being my victory dance as soon as I thaw.
Kind regards,
<>< Katie Ax
PS: But I still love you.
Wishing she'd opted for the hot chocolate instead, she attempts to maneuver her gloved hand around the spoon in her McFlurry. Her dinner, a Taco Bell Chulupa with chicken, sits in her lap forgotten. Not unlike she is.
"You want to let me in?" she calls on her cell phone.
"Oh... uh... shoot... well... see... uh... um... we're still at the grocery store," explains the voice on the other end. "We're on our way back," he lies.
The clock tower lets out a chime. It's 5:45. According to the invitation, the Superbowl party in the boys' dorm started fifteen minutes earlier. For the first time in her life, she's glad she didn't arrive on time.
The ice cream in her cup does not threaten to melt, but she's slowly losing feeling in her fingers as she touches the plastic spoon to her lips.
"He begged me to come," she said aloud to herself, remembering the pleading facebook messages asking her to ditch the Superbowl party in her apartment to attend his. Now he's failed to arrive at his own party and left her sitting in the cold.
Ten minutes later, the ice cream is gone; she is still waiting. Suddenly, the door behind her pops open revealing the morgue turned boy's dorm as her party host bursts out into the chilling winter night. She glances at her watch and starts up at him.
"We have chips," he says with a sly smile.
Of course, chips make her frost bite worthwhile because now instead of begging for mercy, he'll beg for grace, and he'll want it in the form of cheese chip dip. Yet she'll give it. If only in the name of forgiveness and familial love.
-------
Dear Mr. Kevin Kassakatis,
I was not going to update my blog twice today. However, your tasteless, rude behavior this evening left me no choice. I have considered this your forfeiting the war and will being my victory dance as soon as I thaw.
Kind regards,
<>< Katie Ax
PS: But I still love you.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Crash Boom Bash
"I'll give you a ride back to your apartment," Jessica offered as we walked out of practice tonight. Then she added only half-jokingly, "If you don't mind riding with me."
I could have walked back to my apartment, in fact I seriously considered it. However, the dangers of riding with Jess seemed less than the dangers of walking across campus alone in the dark.
As I got in her new car, I thought back to that warm October day. I remember getting in her car that morning and thinking, If we crash, these color guard flags are going to cause some serious internal damage. We did and they didn't.
This past October, Jessica and I were headed to an academic event when we blew a tire by running off the road to avoid getting hit head-on by a line of Dodge Rams. God sent us some of our classmates to change the tire. We were going to get to our destination and get a new tire since we were in the middle of nowhere and were headed towards a bigger city.
In this brouhaha our GPS got messed up. It was telling us to get on the freeway, get off at the next exit, get back on the freeway going the other direction, get off at the next exit and on and on and on. Since we were driving on a spare tire, we didn't think it was wise to be on the freeway at all but neither of us knew an alternative route. Well, it wasn't long before we needed more than just a new tire.
We pulled over in a vacant parking lot to adjust the GPS. Destination reset, directions make sense, knew where we're going, put the GPS down, and continued our journey. Not a mile later we t-boned a Dodge Ram.
Afterwards I didn't talk about the accident much because, well, there's no nice way to say, "Jess and I totaled her car yesterday." Besides, the conversation was always more or less the same.
"Oh my gosh, are you ok?"
I'm fine. Yes, I'm a bit sore, we totaled a car for heaven sake, but I've been more sore from tennis practice. No ambulance ride. No ER. No nothing. No, that answer isn't going to change if you call back in two hours.
"Were you scared?"
First off, what kind of question is that? Who crashes a car and isn't scared? Me apparently. I watched the truck stop at the stop sign, cross oncoming traffic, cross the left lane, appear directly in front of our car. The only few seconds I cannot physically see were us making contact, the airbag deploying, and the trunk spinning. It would have been logical for me to close my eyes, after all there was an airbag colliding with my face (not to mention the truck colliding with our car). Even though I can't see those few seconds, I can hear the crunching of mental. With confidence I could tell EMS that my head was not responsible for the cracked windshield on the passenger side."Does the other driver have insurance?"
Can you drive a car without insurance? He admitted it was his fault and apologized. He said he never saw us but did stop at the stop sign. I know this to be true. I watched him do it.
Although it's not something I'm happy we experienced, we've both learned a lot from this day.
First off, we are thankful for flat tires. Since we were driving with the spare tire, we were driving slowly, ten to fifteen miles under the speed limit. It's not hard to notice that if we had been driving the speed limit, the hood of our car could have easily gotten stuck under the truck. That's would have made for an entirely different outcome. 
Secondly, it is a miracle that we had no injuries. The car took the brunt of the impact. Besides the dashboard, the only thing inside that was broken was Jess's GPS. (Which was already not in proper working order). Both of us were offered medical care. Jess opted for on-site evaluation, and I turned it down. For days I wondered if this was something I was going to regret, but I don't because I was not injured. In all honesty, I'm kind of disappointed we totaled a car and the only bruise on my body was from where I'd gotten body-slammed into the counter the week before. We are incredibly thankful for God's arms of protection surrounding us.
God provided us with compassionate people all the way through the day. From the other students who helped us change the tire to the woman who stopped to make sure we had a phone to call 911 to the bikers who waited with us until emergency personnel arrived to the emergency personnel themselves. Even the other driver was nice. There's no way I can ever thank everyone that helped us. I thought to thank some on the scene but some I didn't and that is one thing I regret from that day.
The other thing I regret is not being more of a backseat driver. I had been watching the truck the whole time. Jessica said she'd never heard me, "Jess, are you watching that truck? He doesn't see us. Jess! Truck!" I'd already been a backseat driver that day (as always), so I was trying not to be obnoxious. I was not screaming. Except for the millisecond as we were about to make contact when I doubted myself, I knew the whole time that he was not going to make it across the road before we both tried to be in the same place at the same time. I've resolved myself to forever be a backseat driver because I'd rather be annoying than be in a crushed car.
There are a zillion reasons why this accident didn't make sense:
- Periodically throughout our journey, Jess had been texting or talking on her cell phone. Texting/talking and driving has always bothered me. The irony is that she was not messing with her phone when we crashed.
- We should have never been on that road at all in our journey. If the GPS hadn't been messed up we would not have gotten off the freeway. If we would not have done the safe thing and pulled over in the parking lot, we would not have had to travel back down the road to get back to the freeway.
- If those first trucks and their ATVs had not made Jessica so nervous, we would not have swerved so far off the road that we hit the curb and popped her tire, so we could have been to our destination on time.
- If...
If, ands, and buts aside, we had an accident. That's exactly what this is: an accident. Except not to God. God doesn't have accidents; He may be the only one to know why it happened. But it did happen, and God is good. All the time.
Just because God is good doesn't mean our day was good. I mean, we got up on a Saturday to leave campus at 8am on what should have been a 55 minute drive only to return to campus at noon (the time I normally wake up on Saturdays) having never made it to our destination.
No, we did not get credit for the academic event we tried to attend. When I told the professor we tried to go and got into a car accident she looked me in the eye and essentially said, "Bummer." That irked me. If someone tells you they totaled a car trying to go to your event: do NOT under any circumstances say, "Bummer!" Even an, "I'm sorry" would have been nice... and necessary.
I've really struggled with this blog. Writing about the accident isn't hard; telling people about it is. However, I've really felt God's give me a story to tell, and I've been disobedient by keeping it to myself. I wrote this post a week ago and have revised/ rewritten it several times since then. Except I haven't posted it. I put it in my "next time I don't have something to say" collection of blogs. Face it, I always have something to say. I couldn't figure out why I was being so selfish and keeping this story silent.
Last night, I figured it out. Worshipping three rows in front of me was Jessica, my driver. Whether we like it or not, she and I will always have a bond because we crashed a car together.
Sitting in front of her was a different girl, also named Jessica. This other Jessica was in a car accident when she was in high school. A horrific accident where people died. She almost did, too. I'd known this for years but never really knew her story. Seeing her today helped me realize why I was being shy about sharing my story. The night before we crashed, Jessica told me about her car accident. She should not have lived! We talked about how God has healed her, physically and emotionally.
It clicked tonight seeing her for the first time in months. She was in a car accident and almost died, and God has used her story. I was in a car accident and walked away without a scratch; God can and will use my story, too.
I will not be silent any more!
<><>
PS. If you read this all the way through you deserve a hug because it's the Microsoft Word equivalent of three pages (without the photo). I'm sorry. Honestly, I tried to keep the details minimal. If I included everything I wanted to this post could have easily been fifteen pages. Ask me if you want more information because I'll freely give it. :-) Thanks for reading!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Good Vibrations
Sitting in worship tonight I heard a phone vibrate. A quick arm on my bag told me it was my phone disturbing everyone. I pulled it out, glanced at the caller-id, and smiled to myself.
"DAD"
IGNORE
Let's be honest, we all wish we could ignore our parents from time to time. I had the chance to do so tonight! What a rare, unique, wonderful opportunity.
All too often, God calls and we hit IGNORE.
Katie, God has never called me on my cell phone.
He hasn't called me on my phone either, but sometimes He uses people to call on the phone. Sometimes He grabs your attention through (insert anything here; the more random the better). We're too fast to hit IGNORE instead of answering His call. It's not rare, unique, or wonderful. In fact, it's frequent, awful, and needs to stop.
Take a break from what you're doing and answer the call.
<>< Katie
PS: Five points to anyone who knows the artist who wrote the song namesake of this post. Ten points if you can tell me what song my phone would have played had it not been on silent when Dad called... Same artist, different song. Points are equally important to those in "Whose Line is it Anyway."
PPS: I'm pretty sure updated my blog three times today makes me the blog-war winner, right?
"DAD"
IGNORE
Let's be honest, we all wish we could ignore our parents from time to time. I had the chance to do so tonight! What a rare, unique, wonderful opportunity.
All too often, God calls and we hit IGNORE.
Katie, God has never called me on my cell phone.
He hasn't called me on my phone either, but sometimes He uses people to call on the phone. Sometimes He grabs your attention through (insert anything here; the more random the better). We're too fast to hit IGNORE instead of answering His call. It's not rare, unique, or wonderful. In fact, it's frequent, awful, and needs to stop.
Take a break from what you're doing and answer the call.
<>< Katie
PS: Five points to anyone who knows the artist who wrote the song namesake of this post. Ten points if you can tell me what song my phone would have played had it not been on silent when Dad called... Same artist, different song. Points are equally important to those in "Whose Line is it Anyway."
PPS: I'm pretty sure updated my blog three times today makes me the blog-war winner, right?
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Cell Phone and Gloves
I'm looking through my blog and realize I have a lot of drafts that never got posted. Most of them I just published as they were and were recorded under the day written. This one I rewrote, so I put it on a new day. This happened sometime during the past semester:
Last night, I walked up to order my food and the woman behind the counter was texting... with her gloves on... I made my order, she reached for my pizza, and I added, "And I'd like you to change your gloves before you make it, please. Sorry." Her face changed and she looked at her coworker as if to say, "Did you hear that?"
I felt rude, yet not sorry. If it happened again, I'd do the same thing, and here's why:
1. She should not be texting a work.
2. If she must text behind the counter, her gloves should have been removed. I've always learned that when gloves are on you are committed to what you are doing and nothing else. If you do something else, change your gloves. It's not that hard.
3. Cell phones are among the germiest things on the planet.
I shared this story with my surrogate family because Ruth is more outspoken than I am and she would have had no problem asking the woman to change her gloves. Yes, Ruth definitely agreed with me. My brother Andy, looked and me and said, "That's awful!" I like to think my eyes got huge when he said that because he kind of backpeddled realizing how that could have been interpreted. He then added, "That she did that, I mean; you were in the right."
Why does the right still feel wrong? What would you have done? Sometimes God tells us to do something that is right but it still feels wrong.
What would you have done in the dirty glove situation?
<>< Katie
Last night, I walked up to order my food and the woman behind the counter was texting... with her gloves on... I made my order, she reached for my pizza, and I added, "And I'd like you to change your gloves before you make it, please. Sorry." Her face changed and she looked at her coworker as if to say, "Did you hear that?"
I felt rude, yet not sorry. If it happened again, I'd do the same thing, and here's why:
1. She should not be texting a work.
2. If she must text behind the counter, her gloves should have been removed. I've always learned that when gloves are on you are committed to what you are doing and nothing else. If you do something else, change your gloves. It's not that hard.
3. Cell phones are among the germiest things on the planet.
I shared this story with my surrogate family because Ruth is more outspoken than I am and she would have had no problem asking the woman to change her gloves. Yes, Ruth definitely agreed with me. My brother Andy, looked and me and said, "That's awful!" I like to think my eyes got huge when he said that because he kind of backpeddled realizing how that could have been interpreted. He then added, "That she did that, I mean; you were in the right."
Why does the right still feel wrong? What would you have done? Sometimes God tells us to do something that is right but it still feels wrong.
What would you have done in the dirty glove situation?
<>< Katie
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Show them Christ
My sister's an expensive kid. She always has been. (No, I'm serious. She was born nine hours too late for a major tax break). This week ranks right up there as her most expensive weeks. Her iPod died this weekend, and her cell phone and camera were brutally murdered yesterday. It's only Tuesday! She's been waiting for two years to get a cell phone, gets it, and two weeks later it's killed when she's pushed into a pool with it in her pocket. There were some choice words thrown around yesterday regarding the kid who pushed her in. My non-confrontational mother even called the parents and informed them of the situation.
Today, the kid's last name appeared on our caller ID followed by "Christ." Apparently one of the parents' names is "Christopher" or "Christine" or something, but the caller ID cut off the latter half. Instead, it read "LASTNAME, Christ."
We are Christians. We need to show Christ's love to this kid even though the choices made were not good and the repercussions are less than desirable. We need to forgive this kid for pushing my sister into the pool and for ruining her stuff. This isn't the first time we've had issues with this kid, and we need to express forgiveness 70 times 7 times.
Oh, if only forgiving were easy...
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"Forgive, and you will be forgiven." Luke 6:37b
Today, the kid's last name appeared on our caller ID followed by "Christ." Apparently one of the parents' names is "Christopher" or "Christine" or something, but the caller ID cut off the latter half. Instead, it read "LASTNAME, Christ."
We are Christians. We need to show Christ's love to this kid even though the choices made were not good and the repercussions are less than desirable. We need to forgive this kid for pushing my sister into the pool and for ruining her stuff. This isn't the first time we've had issues with this kid, and we need to express forgiveness 70 times 7 times.
Oh, if only forgiving were easy...
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"Forgive, and you will be forgiven." Luke 6:37b
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