Remember Brazil

A few months ago I was felling extremely discouraged.  I had gotten a gut-wrenching rejection for a job I was passionate about at my own alma mater.  I was hosting a pity party.

In the midst of my tears, God whispered, "Remember, Brazil."

Last fall, I applied for a mission trip to Brazil.  I researched the city, borrowed a Portuguese Bible, began fund raising, and prayed for our trip.

All of the sudden, our team's planning came to a screeching hault.

Airline tickets and a Brazilian Visa put a stop to our trip.  It might be an understatement to say our team was extremely discouraged.  Truth be told, I cried at the team meeting when we decided Brazil would not come to fruition.

Several team members jumped ship and pursued other mission opportunities.  No one blamed them.  Those of us who remained spent some time not knowing if we were going to even have a trip.  Never did the thought of changing trips cross my mind.  Never did the thought of not having a trip sink in.

God opened up another opportunity, and on short notice we began to prepare for different destination: Nicaragua.

One student who had not expressed interest in Brazil, applied to go to Nicaragua.  She wanted to practice her Spanish.  I have no doubt she was supposed to be on our trip.

Of all of us, she came home the most changed.  Even others noticed something different about her.  If we had gone to Brazil, this change would not have happened.  Today, her re-birth through baptism, would not have happened.  We went to Nicaragua for her.

We went to Nicaragua for Stephanie, our Nicaraguan interpreter.  After only a few days of traveling with us, Stephanie noticed something was different.  She recognized the Holy Spirit in us and wanted to be filled in the same way.  Right then and there she began a relationship with our Lord and Savior.  If we had been in Brazil, God would not have used us to reach Stephanie.

God rearranged our entire trip for those two daughters.  He changed the plans of thirty plus people in order to change the lives of two.

It's not every day that God rearranges plans for His glory.

Or is it?

A spilled cup of coffee gets you out of the house late to avoid a major traffic jam.

A rejection letter keeps you from a company going bankrupt.

A malfunctioning alarm clock kept you from being in the Twin Towers when they were hit.

God changes our plans for His glory.

Anytime I start to forget: I remember Brazil.

<>< Katie

PS: Everyone has a 9-11-01 story.  Mine is of a selfish seventh grader who just didn't want to be in class.  For a heart-piercing story, check out the blog of Meg Cabot, author of The Princess Diaries.  My heart and prayers are with those affected by the tragedy.  We will never forget.

Edit Friends

Facebook has this feature near the log-out button: Edit Friends.

How often do we want to edit our friends?

I'd like you to not laugh like that, you to not laugh at that, and you to laugh.
I'd like you to have more compassion, you to stand up for your beliefs, and you to smile.

It's easy to look at others and find faults we desire to edit away and change.

It's harder to look at ourselves and say, "I don't like this about me.  Let's edit that fault."

Yet that is exactly what God does to each of us.  He edits us, His friends, to make us more like Him.

Some edits are simple like moving a comma or turning a neutral face into a smiling one.  Some much more involved.  Ideas that need to be rethought, lifestyles that need to be revised, and plans that need to be removed.

I like editing papers.  I don't always like having my papers edited.

I like critiquing others' personalities and finding their faults.  I don't like having my own pointed out.

But it's necessary.  My grammar's not perfect and neither is my life.

Sometimes softly and other times more sternly, yet always lovingly, God edits us to be more like Him.

"And the Lord—who is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image." 2 Corinthians 3:18b NLT

After all, we were created in His image.

<>< Katie

Skype Date

At Lifest on Saturday two lives where forever changed in one slightly uncomfortable moment.

Peder Eide, the host of the grandstand, held the packet of a Compassion child above his head and said, "Lifest, I've never done this before.  But this is Maria from Honduras and we need a sponsor for her right now.  Who wants to sponsor Maria?"

There we all were, listening for the pull of the Holy Spirit, wondering who was going to step up.  A woman from the sea of lawn chairs answered the call.

Peder invited her on stage and asked her why she chose to sponsor that child.  A brand new Compassion sponsor, you could tell she was a little overwhelmed.

"How would you like to meet Maria?" Peder asked.

She didn't know what to say.

He invited her out to a computer that was set up to Skype Maria.

Their conversation was short yet powerful. 

I cried watching Lifest Skype Honduras.

It made me homesick... for Central America.  For Spanish.  For kissing people on the cheek.  For trying to understand the difference between mango and manga.  For worshipping our God, our same God, in another country, another language, and another way and realizing He understands and is comfortable with all of it.

I can't buy a plane ticket to Nicaragua.  I can't Skype my family in Costa Rica.  I can't play with my kids in Guatemala.

But I can write a letter to Maria, my family's Compassion child in Columbia.  I can facebook my brothers and sisters in Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Guatemala.  I can pray for believers in Central America and around the world.  I can look forward to and prepare for my upcoming trip to China with an unquenchable excitement.

What are you going to do?

Do you sponsor a Compassion child?  If so, send your child a letter.  If not, why not? 

Sure, most people don't get to Skype their sponsored child.  My roommate Jennifer got to meet her sponsored child in the Philippines, but that's not a reality for most of us.  Yet through letters and photos, your sponsored child becomes part of your family.  You get to share the hope of Christ and one day you will meet your sponsored child... just not on this earth.

Think about it.  Pray about it.  Try it.

Excuse me now, my sister Maria is overdue for a letter.

Dios les bendiga, amigos,
<>< Katie

The Post in Which the Author Laments

It is the end of an era.  Saying goodbye to my parents in what we now affectionately call "The Crying Parking Lot" seems like forever ago.

"One Sunday afternoon in June" is very quickly becoming "a Monday morning in May."  That very expensive piece of paper is almost mine.  But I don't want it.

I'm not ready to leave.  I'm not ready to get a big girl job.  I'm not ready to start over.

I love it here.  It's why I prayerfully chose this place.  God has grown me and used me here.

I'm not the same woman I was four years ago when we cried in the parking lot.  All too soon I'll be crying in a different parking lot.  Pulling away from a place that has shaped me, formed me, and made me who I am.

As my peers discuss what dorm they're living in next year, I ponder what state (country?) I'll be in.  As they plan their schedule, I look at the classes I wish I could take.

When my parents, sisters, and I said goodbye, I walked back to my dorm while their van pull away.  I never looked back.

Will I be able to do the same in a month?

Based on how easily the tears filled my eyes tonight, no.

I refuse to count the days until I walk across the stage. Instead, I'm being pulled towards it kicking and screaming. Even my pullers are screaming.

"I'm going to have a hard time when you graduate."
"Are you sure you don't want to add an seventh major and stay a little while longer?"

But, unfortunately, it's time. 

The rites of passage passed and the mile stones crossed.  Those "one day in the future" events have become items to be crossed off the to-do list.

Yet still it hurts.

I'm comfortable here.  Four years will do that.

I cannot walk across campus without stopping to chat.  I know the chain of command for almost every problem and situation.  I'm not afraid to jump to the top of the chain, I know the loop holes, and I call people by their first names.  I keep emergency numbers in my phone, and I have used them.

This is my school.
This is my home.

I understand now why people linger long after graduation.  Part of me hopes I become one of them.

<>< Katie

And to think, this post was supposed to be about my final youth trip this weekend.

Sorry, friends. Thanks for letting me be nostalgic today.

Amber and I purchsed our flights to China on Friday! Now my life doesn't end until August. But I still don't have any idea what I'm doing when I get back.

The Wedding Invitation

I opened my mailbox today hoping the envelope inside contained mission trip money (halfway!). It didn't. It was a wedding invitation.

I started to get really nostalgic. Four years ago, I was making faces through my PO box to the bride-to-be in the box on the opposite side of the post office. We were mischievously planning to tie a fishing line or broom stick from her box to mine to trip the post office employees in the morning (we never did it).

We were a five-some. Three seniors fretting about life after graduation. Two freshmen far away from home but excited about the college experience. All five single.

Now, four years later, my how things have changed! The three have all found themselves in language classrooms, whether here in the United States or in Korea. The two are now fretting life after graduation. One is eventually headed to a classroom of her own. The other is still holding out for a way to avoid the classroom (yeah, that's me). Four single. One engaged. Four years!

Part of me wants to go back. Back to the time where Friday nights were spent flipping the atlas open at random, jabbing our fingers down on the pages, and walking across campus in our slippers until we declared ourselves to be in Prairiesburg, Iowa, or Heart Butte, Montana. Back to the days when we'd laugh so hard we'd choke... on a daily basis. Back to the days when the blog was brand new and rarely updated.

Part of me doesn't want to go back. Sure, I love the laughter and adventure. But I'm a radically different woman now than I was then.

I've become more comfortable in my faith (a journey I hope to continue... always). I've moved from a silly college freshman to a more mature college (almost) graduate who's not afraid to be silly. The Baptist church where we worshipped merely because that's where the ride was going, I now call my Baptist church home.

"I am who I am," a statement I declared freshman year. I still am who I am but I am not who I was.

That's natural, good. It's been a big adventure in this tiny town. Four years has changed me a lot. I hope to say the same thing four years from now. Maybe I'll be sending out my own wedding invitations then. Or at least be able to write "two attending." But maybe not.

<>< Katie

Dear 2011

Dear 2011,

The ball has dropped.  My school friends have all welcomed you with open arms.  They say your first five minutes are great!

But I'm stuck in the past.  It's still 2010 here.  My pomegranate martini has yet to be concocted.  We're having our pizza dinner in my grandparents' kitchen as we wade out the last hour.  We smell like bowling alley.  It's tradition.

Yet I can't help but wonder, where will I be next year?  What will you bring me, 2011?  An apartment or must I hang that new Christmas wreath on my bedroom door?  A job?  More school?  A pair of lips to find mine at midnight?

One this is certain: you bring change.  "The other home" will no longer be a three-bedroom apartment with five of my favorite girls.  Will "the real home" still be the purple bedroom I outgrew years ago?

I saw a poster on clearance at Hobby Lobby that read:

Change: It's not only inevitable; it's vital to survival.

I should have bought it. 

We're ringing in a year of change.  We're trust falling into the arms of God.

May you, 2011, draw us all closer to Him.  Always.

Be nice to us 2011. 

We come with fear; you bring the unknown.
We come with trust; you bring His grace.
We bring ourselves; you let Him do marvelous things with all that we are.

Sincerely,
(I would say, "Love," but I don't know you yet, but I could love you if I knew you)

Katie
and the rest of the Ax Family

Jesus Does the Dishes

On Saturday I was doing my devotion when I ran across this verse,

"Blind Pharisee!  First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside will be clean." (Matthew 23:26)

That's our Savior who's not making much sense.  Big surprise, right?

I thought about the passage briefly before concluding I will continue to wash both the inside and the outside of my dishes.

They are really talking about dishes.  Or are they?

The previous verse says,

"You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence" (Matthew 23:25b).

What if they aren't really talking about dishes?  What if Jesus is calling us to be the cup and the dish?

All too often we try to change our outwards appearance.  Put on some make-up.  Pick a different shirt.  Act more kindly to that person.  Serve this person.  Surely that makes us a better Christian, right?

According to what Jesus said right here, wrong.

We can do all of the "nice things" on the outside and make us look like good Christians but until our heart is changed it's all futile.  I do not believing having your heart changed is a one-time deal.  Boom you're done and you know everything there is to know.  No.

Having your heart changed is a lifetime process.  Rid yourself of some greed here.  Pride there.  Put in some joy take out some hatred.  A process.  Just like washing dishes.  And just like washing dishes, as soon as you think you're done, you find one more.  One more problem area that needs to be dealt with.  One more outburst of anger you weren't expecting.  One more nudge from Christ saying, "Hey, you forgot about this.  That's not of me."

What I believe Jesus is saying in the verse is if He changes your heart, if He cleans your inside, your outsides will follow.  Change in the inside, the desire, and the outside, the action, will change too.

It makes me think of the song, "Change me from the inside out, Lord."

Feel free to join me in making this your prayer for today.

Change me from the inside out, Lord.

<>< Katie

Deep thoughts from Bejeweled Blitz

I am officially addicted to Bejeweled Blitz again.  It's a facebook game my mom introduced me to over Christmas break.  I intentionally never downloaded it onto my page because I knew I'd get addicted.  Instead, I was forced to play on hers meaning I needed her to log me in.  Yes, my mother was my enabler.  Over spring break, I discovered her password and no longer needed her assistance to Blitz.  However, I still had some self-control since it wasn't on my page.  As soon as the semester was over, I downloaded the stupid game to my page and have been playing daily since.

If you're not familiar with this addicting game, an 8 by 8 box fills with jewels.  You've got a minute to flip them around one at a time to make lines of three jewels that are the same color.  Once three of the same color are together, they disappear.  If you get four, three disappear and the fourth turns into a flaming jewel.  Line the flaming jewel up with two more and all of the surrounding jewels explode.  There are other features, too, but I want to focus on the flaming jewel.

Since you've only got a minute, I'm always planning a few moves ahead of where I'm flipping.  Sometimes that means a flaming jewel appears and my moves disappear before I get there.  Of course, you get points for this in the game, but sometimes it's annoying.  Sometimes there are so many explosions you kind of sit there staring at the screen like, "When is it my turn to play?"

As I'm wasting hours one minute at a time I'm thinking about life.  A year from now I'll graduate college and I have no idea what I'm doing next.  That terrifies me.  Three years of college down and I still don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life.  Ok, well, I want to write, but what's the career path for that?  I haven't figured that out yet.  Right now I don't even know if I'm going to grad school (where?  to study what?) or going right into the workforce (in this economy?  doing what?).  I'm not tied to any part of the country but there are two states I call home.  I don't have any idea what I'm doing after I graduate, but as this year progresses I'll make plans for my future.  I'm a planner; this is what I do.

Maybe, like the jewels, my plans will explode and something else will replace them.  A lot of times, when the jewels change, better moves appear.  As my plans explode and change, maybe better opportunities will surface. 

I hate all of these unknowns and unexpected changes.  However, I realize I am not alone.  There's a whole facebook support group for those of us facing Blitz addictions.  And there's countless college students pensive about their futures.

I think Nikki said it best a few weeks ago when she said, "I'd just love for God to send me my MASH in the mail and be done with it."  Unfortunately, that letter hasn't come yet, so here I am still pondering and wondering as I flip jewels around and waste my life one minute at a time.

More so than normal, this post was written for my own mulling more than it was for anyone else.  If you were able to follow it and learned something, wonderful!  If not, I'm sorry you wasted your time.  Oh, and please don't tell me I have a year to figure out what I'm doing with the rest of my life.  I might smack you.  Fair warning.

<>< Katie

Potter

Tuesday wasn't exactly a great day. There was nothing major that went wrong and a lot of good things happened but it was kind of one of those days. It wasn't until the fourth person asked me if I was ok that I realized I had let the "one of those days" mentality take over. Of course, then I was mad. At myself. After being out of bed for five minutes this morning I knew it was going to be one of those days. I had the opportunity to make it a good day with some bad events rather than a bad day with some good events. And I failed.

At our Tuesday night worship service my friend Brad spoke. Now Brad's a potter so his "speaking" was really giving us a visual of Jeremiah 18. He made a tall jug out of clay and then smashed it. I knew ahead of time he was going to do that, but it was still cool to see all of his hard work smashed. He reformed the exact same clay and made a bowl instead.

Brad: See, this bowl a whole lot better, more practical than the tall, long thing that I didn't really know what it was.
Andy: That’s what they called me in high school.
Katie: Tall, long thing no one really knows what it is?
Amy: Katie, did you get that, too?
Andy: And they called Amy a bowl thing.

Each one of us is different but each one of us is going to be used. Maybe right now I’m in a tall, long shape where I’m stuck in the old way rather than the new form.  That doesn't mean I cannot be used or reformed.  In fact, today is Wednesday and I am the same piece of clay I was on Tuesday, but I am willing to let the Potter shape me in a new way. Are you?

"Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?" Romans 9:21

<>< Katie

Idiot Box

Apparently in Australian slang they call the television the Idiot Box. I might embrace this idea because I almost never watch tv. It was Thanksgiving before my roommate learned the tv in our room even worked. The only show I care about is House, and I haven't seen an episode since I was home a month ago. Ask me if I've seen a certain movie and the answer is almost always no. I don't watch TV and movies.

This afternoon, the tv was on and instead of retreating to my bedroom, I sat down on the futon, computer in hand, and began to blog. Like always, the television stole my attention and it was not long before I was enthralled by the Wife Swap episode where a strict Irish woman living in Pennsylvania exchanged lives with a more laid-back biker woman from Washington.

As with most episodes, these two families were polar opposites. The Irish family spent all day running from activity to activity while the biker family spent their days riding bikes and jumping on bed. Swap the women and there's a problem.

The women want to convert their new families to be identical to the home they left behind while the fathers felt there was no problem with the original lifestyle and refused to change. While I enjoy seeing the way different families operate, this lack of open-mindedness and constant fighting was making me crabby. I don't need any more help getting crabby this week. The only thing stopping me from changing the channel was not knowing which remote goes to the TV and which is for the VCR--ok, DVD player--and the desire not to get up.

Ultimately, I'm glad I watched all the way through because both families were (eventually) able to admit their lifestyle was flawed. Face it, all lifestyles are flawed. Their willingness to see these flaws embrace change is was impressed me.

I don't like change. I don't do it well. Sometimes it's necessary. Since most of us are college students, the changes we need to make in our lives may not be the same as the families (eating dinner as a family at a table, fathers spending more time with the children, having more of a variety of activities in the kids' lives, less controlling mothers...)

That doesn't mean every thing's perfect. Do me a favor, try and find one flaw in your life and work on it. It won't be an instantaneous transformation, but work at it.

I'll try, too. Maybe I'll learn to embrace the idea that everyone else keeps telling me: I can be a poet. Or maybe not.

<>< Katie

Chris: We're going to get two subs and not eat them right away, but the two drinks we're going to drink right away because we don't want it to turn to ice.
Katie: Of course, drinks that turn to ice are never good.
Adam: You CAN make a science joke!

Change

Sorry! I've been a slacker blogger. I get paid to blog twice a week on a different site, so it's hard to keep both blogs up to date. That's not to say that I haven't thought about stuff to put here... I just haven't developed thoughts enough to put them into writing. The "good thoughts" or "thoughts worth pondering more" have been few and far between. Perhaps it's because I'm stressed to the max. Perhaps it's because this book review is consuming my life (read Social Construction: Entering the Dialogue by Ken and Mary Gergen and expect to have your world turned on its head). Perhaps it's that I've grown lazy. Perhaps it's because a lot of my friends have put amazing thoughts into words that I don't feel like mine compare. Perhaps it's a combination of them all.

With that said, here are some rough thoughts to ponder. I'm developing this blog as I write it, so don't expect me to have all of the answers figured out and the loose ends tied in a pretty bow.

Theological debates aside, I'm not a big fan of altar calls primarily because it leaves those of us who already know Christ sitting there uncomfortably while those "new believers" head to the front of the congregation. Sometimes I also feel like preachers who end with altar call are just pushing an agenda: get people into heaven. Just a reminder, the Bible doesn't say "make converts;" it says, "Make disciples." Sorry, I said theological debates aside so I'll stay focused here even though I've seen three or four different tangents peruse.

Last night, I was at a worship service with an altar call. Yes, I felt like the preacher was pushing his goal of making converts. As he stood on stage, he made every single one of us in the congregation nod or shake our heads to simple questions such as: do you know Christ? Does Christ have control of your life? And stuff like that. By the time he got to where I was sitting in the back, I was starting to get annoyed. That's when it hit me. Perhaps I'm not giving me life to Christ for the first time (or second or fifteenth) but that doesn't mean He and I have everything right. When the speaker said to the new believers, "Are you willing to change?" It hit me. As we say in ASL, HEART PIERCE! Are you willing to change? Really, it's not a one-time change. It's a continuous, life-long process. Change. Not fun. Not easy. Not avoidable. Change. It must happen.

Are you willing to change? Maybe you're not throwing off the ways of this world and submitting your life to Christ, but that doesn't mean you can't change. Are you willing to change? Are you willing to spend more time with Him? Are you willing to wait? Are you willing to unite with your brothers and sisters in Christ around the world? Are you willing to change?

I am.
<>< Katie

2016

When I renewed my driver's license the other day, it now does not expire until 2016. That's eight years from now! I realized I may not have to renew my license again until I'm living in a different state! My mom commented that none of my family may be living here by 2016. What by 2016 I'm living in a different state and have a different name? Now that's creepy! BUT sometimes change can be good (ok, Lutherans, one, two, three GROAN!)...

My family and I were having a conversation the other day and it was quite humorous. My sister and I realized that I'm going to have little girl kids and she's going to have little boy kids. Why? Because she loves to run around like a crazed maniac and wrestle, etc. While I love to sit and cuddle and have tea parties, etc. After dinner the other day, Christina looked at me and said,
"Katie, if you have little girls, they can have my American Girl doll clothes." I thanked her and reminded her the clothes were mostly mine to begin with. ;-)
Laura then added with a laugh, "Katie, if you have little boys and I have little girls, you can have my little girls and I'll have your little boys."
"And Grandma will take them all to the zoo, right?" I added.
It was around this point that my dad returned from outer spaced and wondered what the heck we were talking about and quickly commented he wanted no more kids.
Last night between our two games of Life, I had no boy kids but three girl kids. Foreshadowing???

Sorry, no deep Biblical connection today. Tomorrow perhaps.

In Christ,
<>< Katie

Bonfire

I've had this song stuck in my head all day. I don't know what it's called, but it goes, "Lord, I wanna burn for you, I wanna yearn with passion. Lord, I wanna burn." (Or something like that). I don't really like that song because I don't really like fire (for understandable reasons to be expressed at some other time), yet what did God speak to me through today?

I hung out with Brianne again today, and, unlike on Monday, we had a bonfire. This was an atypical bonfire because it was in the middle of the day. Brianne, however, had a blast, and now her summer can officially start. :-) She's not the best fire-building, but she's an amazing fire-player. As I was watching her (from a significant distance, might I add) play with the fire, God spoke to me. Sort of twice.

Brianne loves to have a stick in the fire at all times. No matter what she's doing, she has to be playing with the fire. Well, she kept throwing small branches on the fire. She threw a plethora of small branches on the fire. Enough small branches on the fire and she almost smothered the fire. Branches are good for building up the fire, but too many and the fire is put out.

God's work in our lives is kind of like that. Small changes are good, but too many small changes at once and we turn away from Him. (Maybe that's the Lutheran in me talking...)

Another way God spoke to me through the fire was through the ashes on the bottom of the fire pit. At one time the ashes were good, solid wood that was helpful in fueling the fire. However, later on they became less helpful and even bothersome. If the ashes weren't forgotten about and were turned over, they once again became helpful in providing oxygen to the fire.

Some of our experiences are helpful at the time in growing us closer to Christ. Yet, if we just leave them in the past and move on, they are no longer helpful. If we look back on them and revisit them, we can continue to grow from the good and bad times.

Ok, so that sounded a lot cooler in my head.

<>< Katie

"I the LORD do not change. So you, O descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed." Malachi 3:6