Life Without Music

Earlier this week I had coffee with a delightful woman whose family does not listen to much music. My understanding is that it's a sound issue where they can't handle the volume level. They went to a concert and had to leave because the sound stimulation was too much.

I tried to envision what my life would be like without music. I almost always have music playing. If it's not on, there's probably a song running through my head. Concerts are my family's bonding activity.

We've gone to the same multi-day Christian music festival for nine years. Our record is six Mark Schultz concerts in one calendar year. We sit around quoting "As Is" by Peder Eide as if "Samson was a long-haired, arrogant womanizer" is a perfectly logical thing to say in conversation.

If it weren't for music, we'd probably have to watch movies or take up karate like normal people.

When I talk about Lifest, I tell the silly stories: the standing ovation earned by a water bottle, the mud so bad our van had to be pushed into the parking lot, using my lawn chair as an umbrella, etc.

But I think about it, I think about worshipping with Phillips, Craig, and Dean as the rain gently fell on my face. I think about kneeling on fist-sized gravel to stretch my arms up to my Abba Father like a child wanting to be held. I remember Peter Furler (when he was in Newsboys) talking about God's perfect timing only to have a nearby train interrupt his sentence.

Can I worship without music?

I love how the Lord gets my attention through songs I've heard a million times. I get a taste of heaven when strangers unite as a family to sing praises to our Father. I didn't perform "My Savior, My God" in ASL in front of a crowded room of Nicaraguan believers; I worshipped my Savior, my God with my hands.

Through music may be one of my favorite ways to worship, but it's certainly not the only way.

To affirm or encourage someone, that's worship. To serve and love on someone, that's worship. To hug someone, to squeeze a shoulder as you pass, to look someone in the eye. Worship. To genuinely ask how someone's doing, to sit down and share life over a cup of coffee, to bring lunch to an under-employed freelance writer. Worship. To dance, to play ping pong, to sign, to make copies, etc. they can all be worship. (My thoughts on this have been heavily influenced by TASTE Worship--check it out).

In Guatemala, there was a day I was "forbidden" to sing and sign. I worshipped that day. I removed flecks of orange paint from a brush and bucket, and it was worshipful.

Can I worship with music?

Last summer, I remember running through the park arguing with God about being twenty minutes late to a forty-minute show. He brought to my attention that I was not approaching the concert with the right heart.

It wasn't the first time.

How often do I attend a concert just to add another artist to my repertoire? How often do I absent-mindedly sing along without realizing what I'm saying?

These questions hurt because I am ashamed of their answers.

Even at Christian concerts, my heart is not always in the right place. I've sung along, I've waved my arms, I've screamed at the top of my lungs, and I hate to confess it has not always been for the Lord.

It happens under a rain-free sky. It happens in a crowded, dark auditorium. It happens in my church on Sunday mornings. It happens to me more often than I care to admit.

I voluntarily took a day this week and turned the music off. I washed dishes in silence. I drove across town in the quiet. I worked without any accompaniment.

It was weird and awkward at first but then it became peaceful.

That's worship.

Weird and awkward at first. Uncomfortable and strange. But then peaceful, wonderful, and necessary.

Whether you're a person who loves to literally feel the beat of the drums or just prefers white noise in the background, take some time this week to worship with the radio off.

Let me know how it works for you.

<>< Katie

Anaconda Squeeze

It's very overwhelming for Nicaraguan places to be invaded by 26 Americans.  The first day, half of our team was going to the special needs school and the other half to an orphanage.  We had planned VBS-like activities.  My group was going to teach the story of Daniel and the lion's den with audience participation and a corresponding craft.

Flaw in the plan: a miscommunication with the orphanage meant we wouldn't be able to work there.  After some quick re-figuring, we found ourselves working with 5 and 6 year olds at a school.

Flaw in the plan: this was a public school.  That meant no talking about Jesus.  There were two sets of 80 kids each and we had no plan.

Yay for being flexible and thinking on our feet.

We got the first group to sit under the shade of a tree while we introduced ourselves, did some silly skits, and told them why we were in Nicaragua.  (We did slide Jesus in there briefly).

After that we let them play.  We tried to teach them Duck, Duck, Goose (Renamed Gato, Gato, Perro).  It didn't fly.  The soccer balls did.

Eventually recess was over, so "Neo" collected the balls and became a human jungle gym.

No matter how many times he said, "No," those two little boys wouldn't stop reaching for the balls.  I had the perfect distraction: a camera.

One kid became two, became four or five, became thirty... There are about 50 more photos that I want to post just to show you the cuteness of the crowd we drew.

I ran out of funny face ideas before they lost interest.  Instead, I started asking them questions in Spanish.

Katie: Are you having a good day?
Adorable Children: SI!
Katie: Do you like recess?
Adorable Children: SI!
Katie: Is it better than math?
Adorable Children: SI!

They loved every minute of it!  Every "Sí" was more energetic than the previous.

Eventually my other team members came up and introduced themselves, talked about why we were there, and did some skits.  I did all of our interpreting for that group which meant I had no idea what the next plan was and I didn't get thirty second water break during the switching of groups.  When we told them to stand up, they did.

I think it probably started with one child's desire to give me a hug.  As had happened previously, one child turned into two, turned into three or four, turned into fifty.

My very first Anaconda Squeeze!

I deserved to be trampled because I was the one who riled them up... but I loved every minute of it!

I relished that moment.  I tried to touch every child around me and told them all that I love them.  I wish I could have told them about Jesus and how much He loves them.

I also wish I would not have forgotten how to conjugate.  When there are fifty kids latched to your waist, it is almost impossible to stay upright.  But I couldn't find the words, "I'm falling."  I got "to fall," "I dropped it," and "he fell" but not "I'm falling."  I finally realized I was going down and there was nothing I could do about it but try not to crush kids in the process.

When I started to shrink, the rest of my team stopped taking pictures and realized I needed help.

Eventually, we got the 50 kids off of me and divided into groups.  Naturally, my group was the largest, and I still had no idea what we were doing.

As per Erin's suggestion, we started the Hokey Pokey.  In English.  Meaning what?  Katie's solo.

Right arm.
Left arm.
Right leg.
Left leg.
Head.
Stomach.
The kids were starting to get it, so I asked for body parts from them.
Hair.
Chin.
Right knee.
Left knee.
Eyebrows.
Forehead.
Teeth.

Three days of Hokey Pokey later and I was out of breath and thinking about what we were teaching these kids: the Hokey Pokey is what it's all about. 

We could tell these kids we were there because of Jesus but we couldn't tell them who Jesus is.  We couldn't tell them Jesus loves them.  We couldn't tell them about how great Jesus is.

It broke my heart to imagine these kids going home and having this conversation.
Mom: How was school today?
Child: Great!  We tackled some Americans at recess!
Mom: Why were there Americans at you school?
Child: I don't know.

We couldn't tell them about Jesus's love, but I can only hope and pray that we were able to show them the love of Christ through our actions and play time.  They definitely showed us what it mean to love like a child.

It also made me think about how often we have the opportunity to tell people about Jesus and we don't.  When we have the opportunity, we fail to seize it.  When we don't have the opportunity, we desire it.

What if the Hokey Pokey really is what it's all about?
But what if it's not? 
And what if we're missing opportunities to speak the Truth?
What if we were better about speaking love?

<>< Katie

Dancing Like David

David danced before the Lord.

We know this.  It's a popular verse. (2 Samuel 6:14).  The part we tend to skip over is that he was wearing only an linen ephod.  He was in his underwear.

When was the last time you danced in your underwear?  (Don't answer that).

But seriously, if dancing in your underwear isn't acceptable in our time, I highly doubt it was accepted in David's.

When was the last time you did something socially unacceptable but for God's glory?  When was the last time you didn't care what others thought?  When was the last time you praised God in the way you felt most appropriate (no pun intended)?  (You can answer those).

<>< Katie

PS: Inspired by Francis Chan's Forgotten God.

Moving Mountains & What If Questions

During church, we were doing an illustration about moving mountains.
"God will move the mountain if we're willing to put in our shovel," Pastor Rob explained.

To demonstrate this, the entire congregation got up in an unorganized communion-style line and proceeded to the front where we used a playground shovel to move some sand from a litter-box like mountain to a new box.  It was actually really powerful.

While we were in line, out of my peripheral vision I saw this kid flailing.  I didn't think much of it because I grew up in a church with a lot of (sometimes unruly) kids.  You learn to ignore them.

"Katie."

I turned.  Those flailing legs belonged to my favorite six year old.  When I turned and opened my arms, my buddy took a leap of faith and jumped into my arms.  I talked to him a bit as we walked to the front of the church, but he wasn't interested in conversation.  He just wanted to be held.

I think it's illegal to walk like a normal person when you are carrying a child.  We danced down the aisle.  Yes, I danced in a Baptist church.  And I didn't care what everyone else thought.  I was focused on my buddy.

We got to the front of the church and I shifted him to my right hip.  He shoveled his sand, and I did the same awkwardly with my left (nondominant) hand.

I went back to my seat, (temporarily) kidnapping Buddy.  He worshipped with us for the rest of the service.  I don't know that I've ever worshipped with a young child without his/her parents in the same pew.  It was weird.  Cool weird!

After church, our "Self Imposed Minster of Coffee" caught me.
SIMC: I saw you got yourself a child today.
Katie: I did!
SIMC: Where'd he come from?
Katie: He kind fell from the sky and into my arms.
SIMC: No, really, whose kid was he?

What if we were willing to take a leap of faith and jump into the arms of God? 
What if we just allowed our Abba Father to hold us, to carry us?
What if we danced like no one was watching?
What if no opinions mattered except for the Lord's?
What if we were willing to be used to move mountains, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable?
What if we shared our pew with others, even if it's a bit strange?
What if our posture and attitude change with God's presence in our lives?

When I was carrying my buddy, I no longer mattered.  Everyone wanted to know where the random kid came from.  As a Christian, I no longer matter.  I want everyone to know about God.

Going from "Katie the college student" to "Katie the college student carrying a random child" was an obvious change.  Is the change from "Katie that girl" to "God's daughter Katie" as obvious?  What if people saw that kind of change in me?  What if they asked where it came from? 

It fell from the sky.  It was all God.
<>< Katie

Sleepovers: College Style

Allyson said over the summer she'd get really homesick for our suite, so she would go through and read my old blogs about some of the crazy things we did. This post is really for Allyson, but if you want to read it, too, that's allowed.

Jennifer had finished doing her devotion, we had said good-night, and we were both in bed trying to fall asleep. Well, I was making a mental list of what hurts because I'm getting sick, and she was trying to plug in her phone. Either way, we were both headed to dreamland when the door burst open and light revealed a silhouette in the doorway.

“Jennifer!” Allyson whisper-shouted. “Jennifer!”

Allyson skipped into the dark room and jumped onto Jennifer’s bed. She had something important to tell Jennifer, but she forgot what it was. Instead we just sat there giggling. Shortly thereafter, Nikki ran into the room.

“FEET!” I shouted to remind her that I have them.

I’m still not really sure how this happened.  You need to know, my bed is waist high.  My waist, not Nikki's.  Normally she falls on it and it's really awkward and humorous to watch.  This time, I was in my bed and she somehow leaped onto the bed, dodged my feet, flipped over me, and positioned herself right up against the wall.

Amy heard our giggles and screaming and came to investigate. She hopped onto Jennifer’s bed and the three of them sat cross-legged while we told stories, teased each other, and laughed. It was kind of like a sleepover. Minus the sleep part, but does that really happen at sleepovers anyway?

Like all good things, this too came to an end. Nikki left first, followed by Allyson, but Amy stayed to tuck Jennifer and me in again. As she was closing the door, Jennifer and I let out child-like cries.

“Allyson! Allyson! You have to sing us a lullaby.”

She complied and allowed us to pick our song of choice. I said the first lullaby that popped into my head, “My Little Buck-a-roo.” Allyson stood in the middle of our room, invented the song and accompanying dance moves on the fly, and made us laugh so hard we had to use the restroom.

We got lost on the way back from the bathroom and ended up in Amy and Allyson’s room. Jennifer on Amy’s bed and me on Allyson’s. Nikki stood in the middle and told us a thrilling fairy tale about how Allyson is the keeper of the butterfly bodies because she is so pure. Thus begins the tradition of bedtime storytelling by Nikki Raye.

Before the end of year we will each have individual stories by the lovely and talented Nikki Raye. Each will be told orally, recorded, drawn, and published for Amy to someday use in her classroom. The stories completed are: Allyson, Queen of the Butterflies and Nikki, The Lovely and Vicious Princess Finds her Prince (told by Katie and starring Jennifer and Amy).  Mine will probably be a horror story that will not be appropriate for young audiences...

After a knocking-through-the-walls rendition of "Jingle Bells" we were all in our respective beds and ready for a good, long night of z-catching.  Shockingly most of us still managed eight hours of sleep.  Elizabeth was jealous she missed this camaraderie.

<>< Katie

Dance for Joy

I think the thing I say to God most frequently is a sarcastic, "Wow, You're funny."  He's got perfect timing and sometimes it just makes me shake my head.

If you've ever seen Peder Eide in concert, you know that at some point he plays a "hymn on Mountain Dew" that is an upbeat arrangement of "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee."  Towards the end of the song, the invisible band vamps while Peder talks about how if what we're singing is true and we really have the joy of the Lord we don't just uses our voices, we use everything we have.  He tells the audience to put their arms around their sweaty neighbors, complete strangers that are now family.  Then everyone jumps.  Without letting go of each other.

Then, he tells us we can let go.  He moves on to talk about how dance is worship.  There's no right or wrong way to dance for joy.  He says, "David danced before the Lord.  He was almost naked, but we're going to skip that part."

I always play my iPod on shuffle.  Always.  I have over 3,300 songs on it; it's the only way I get to hear all of them.  The other morning, I was getting dressed when "Joyful, Joyful" came on.  Peder's version.  I stopped and danced.

Then I doubled over in laughter.  There I was, just like David, almost naked and dancing before the Lord.

Try it sometime.  It's fun.  Dance before the Lord.  Get the rest of your family to join you, too!

Note: if you are in the presence of others and you are not married to said others, please put some clothes on.  Thanks.

<>< Katie

The Spin Cycle

I have two plastic bracelets on my right wrist as reminders of my busy, fantastic weekend. One glows in the dark. It was my admission ticket to a school dance and it now represents how badly Chris and I* stunk up the dance floor on Saturday. We concluded school dances were invented just to make people uncomfortable. I thought maybe it was just me but, no, it's not, it's the whole thing. If you don’t have a date: what do you do? If you do have a date: where to you put your hands, where do you look? Either way: why are those people making babies in public?

"Something wet just hit me in the face."
"It was either sweat or spit, take your pick. Ohh! Or urine. Can you see what color it was? Maybe it was blood."
Yuck!

My other plastic bracelet is hot pink, a much better dancing experience. Matthew, Hillary, Chris, and I went to a music festival on Sunday and spent a couple hours in the afternoon contra dancing, square dancing, and waltzing. Let me just put out there that I have never been so sticky and sweaty in my life, and I didn't know it could get this hot, much less in May.

I was very nervous about this since I'd never been contra dancing before. A lot of my friends talk about wearing flowing skirts and taking Dramamine before they go. Well, I was in jeans and there was no Dramamine in my personal pharmacy. I also had no idea what I was doing but I knew my hand was going to have to go onto the shoulders of sweaty strangers. Yuck!

Lucky for me, the first couple we were partnered with knew what they were doing. In contra dancing, there are two people important to you: your partner (Chris) and your neighbor (changes). My first neighbor showed me how to swing correctly. His last instruction was, "and look me in the eye." Excuse me, sir, but you are forty years my elder and six inches from my face. Looking you in the eye is not very high on my priority list today, sorry. I did it and it was awkward.

When I started writing this blog, I was going to muse aloud about the awkwardness of eye contact, when it's socially acceptable, when it's done poorly, etc. I was also going to ponder why it's acceptable to make eye contact while contra dancing but not ok while slow dancing.

Well, I figured out that one. On the plywood make-shift dance floor I quickly learned why I must face the awkwardness and look my neighbor in the eye: if you don't, you are going to get dizzy, but when your eyes are locked with the other person the world around you is spinning but you are focused on one place. I began to loathe the people who refused to make eye contact with me. Staring at his ear is not quite as effective.

The hardest part is coming out of the swing because, well, the room's still spinning and you are not. In one the dances we did you swing your neighbor then swing your partner. Finding my partner and swinging again without falling over was quite a challenge sometimes. That cannot be healthy, and, boy, am I out of shape.

On the last swing of the day, an elderly gentleman swung me, we locked eyes, and I felt like I was flying. Somehow, we even found the breath to exchange hellos. Like all good things that, too, came to an end and it was time to find Chris. Lucky for me, his arm was around my waist and I was flying again before I felt drunk. When the song was over, I stood there with my arms out trying to regain balance but I'd do it again. Every sweaty man I had to touch was worth those two swings.

When we locked eyes and began to move, nothing else mattered. The barn spun behind us but our eyes remained stable (no pun intended). The music continued but we were stopped in a single moment of time.
That's how God wants to dance with you: lock eyes and push out the spinning world. Maybe that's not possible in a literal fashion but can't you focus on Him amidst the brouhaha of everyday life? Let Him lead and never take your eyes off of Him.

Oh, and please don't contra dance on a cruise ship. You really might fall.

<>< Katie

*Nope, still not facebook official so shhh or I’m not blogging about him again.

Do you see what I see?

I've been people-watching a lot lately.  It's kind of as if it's a game to see who can do the weirdest thing.  Here are some highlights:

Andy was standing in the kitchen eating a chunk of ham.  Emily grabbed it, inspected it, marked it as fat-filled, and handed it back to him.  This was immediately before Andy drank my water just to vex me.  Ok, maybe I was antagonizing him, too...

This morning at church a toddler panicked when a man put her father's guitar in his car and drove away.  This was planned, but she didn't know this.

Katie: What is that?  It looks like pepperoni.
Elizabeth: It looks like pepperoni.
Chris: You look like pepperoni.
Andy [to Liz]: You don't look like pepperoni.
Elizabeth: Did I say that?
Yeah, it was well past bedtime.

On Wednesday, Elizabeth and I drove through the Twilight Zone (aka Sketchy McSketch) and drove behind a man making balloon animals while driving.

My favorite, however, was at the wedding I attended on Saturday.  There was this couple rocking the dance floor.  They had all the moves, danced to every song, and were completely in step with one another.  No, not the bride and groom.  This couple was at least 70 years old.  We don't know where they came from, they weren't the grandparents of the bride or groom, but they were having a blast!  Oh, but they weren't blasted.  Some of us teased they came with the dj because they were just that great.  Perhaps they're wedding crashers.  Perhaps we'll never know.  But you know what?  Dance on, cute couple, dance on!  Show us that even at age 70 life is still worth dancing about.  Even though no one knows why you're there, you're having a good time.  Well done!

<>< Katie

"Yeah, You're all I want."

Even though she's not here, my roommate's computer is playing music. Since I'm only half-listening and half-enjoying it, I haven't gotten up to turn it off yet. One of the songs that just played was "Everything" by Lifehouse.

My freshman year, my FOCUS team did the famous Lifehouse Skit...I'd like to note that this was before the Lifehouse skit was cool... we made it cool. Just kidding. Sort of.

Anyway. It's been several years since I've prayed/practiced/performed that skit, but when I heard it begin to play, my world stopped. I mentally took my place on the stage and envisioned us creating temptations to seperate one of us from Christ. As the music speeds up, the temptations gather in closer to challenge and fight with the girl as she gropes for Christ. When this part began to play, I started to fight. I could feel the pushing and shoving from my focus siblings as we struggled to push down our protagonist. I saw the bruises on her knees from falling. I could smell the coffee-soda-water mix we used for alcohol. I was there on that stage with the bright lights as we pushed away from Christ. Remembering that ultimately He would slam the temptations down and dance with His beloved again.

Think about a time when you strayed from Christ. Think about a time when you (intentionally, unintentionally, successfully, or unsuccessfully) contributed to someone else's stumbling. Remember the awesomeness of dancing with your Abba Father. Take His hand and don't look back.

<>< Katie

Dance-Party

I had a dance party in my car last night. There were only three invitations: Peder Eide (and his invisible band blasting through the stereo), God, and me. But we had a blast! Worship in alternative form! I checked my blind spot a lot (even though I was on a two-lane country highway) because my Heavenly Father is an artist and He painted a beautiful sunset just for me! I love Him! The light drizzle, awesome sunset, and country highway seemed like the perfect opportunity to praise Him with the dance. There were times when I wanted to lift my hands in the air and close my eyes (Except I didn't because I was driving).

Have you spent some good, quality time with your Abba Father lately? You don't have to say a word. You can borrow someone else's [words] if it helps. Just be with Him and do whatever the Spirit leads. Sing. Dance. Scream. Cry. Whatever feels appropriate. This is your Best Friend, remember, so there's no reason to be embarrassed. He loves you more than you'll ever know.

Have a party with Jesus today,
<>< Katie

Squirrel Bite

Like I said yesterday, I'm a part of an interpretive dance to the song "Hosanna." There were like 15 of us, and we met for dinner, followed by a time of prayer. During that time we split up into groups of approximately three and God showed up! Our group talked about how we were so uncertain and how it was hard to see God's plans for our lives. I am so grateful God has put such Biblically-grounded people in my life. Before our twenty-minute prayer time was over, we'd all shared Scripture. Nikki (the coordinator) walked in and could just see the look of relief on one girl's face. It was amazing!

After our time of prayer, we headed over to practice with the live band. Ryan and I were walking down the stairs and a squirrel ran in front of us. Well, more like stumbled in front of us. He was walking very weirdly, and I figured he just had an extra leg or a bum leg or something. "Oh, that's weird," and keep going. That was my plan. Well, little did I know that Ryan wants to be a vet. Of course, he wanted to see this poor squirrel as did the rest of the team.
"What are we going to do with this squirrel?"
"He's going into the building!"
"I think he's bloody."
"We can't just leave him here."
"Look, he's stuck!"
"Awe, the poor guy."
"What are we going to for him?"
"Let's call Dr. Jones!"
"Yeah! Call Dr. Jones! He'll know what to do!"

So we called Dr. Jones, and the prognosis for this poor squirrel was grim. As suspected, Dr. Jones recommended putting this squirrel out of his misery. It was at this point that I walked away, knowing that was not going to be fun to watch. Well, they decided the easiest way to do that would be to take the squirrel to Dr. Jones' office (on the other side of campus) and euthanize him (the squirrel).
"How are we going to get this squirrel to Dr. Jones?"
"Anyone have a cardboard box?"
"No, but I have a bag."
"I have paper towel." (Laughter. "I don't know much about squirrels. Just an idea." "Apparently you don't know much about gravity either.")
"I have..."
They concluded a shirt was their best bet. Ryan captured the squirrel with the shirt and Tony was holding the squirrel. I think this squirrel probably could have survived for awhile based on the way he was moving, and he moved right out of the shirt and bit Tony.

Dancer down! Long story short...
"Everything's fine. It's all taken care of. We called 911. Now let's practice."

Ambulance took Tony and the squirrel (who has a name by this point, but I can't remember it) to the ER.

We practiced a bit more and decided Nikki would stand in for Tony. Watching Tony come in the building, talk to Nikki, give her a hug, leave, and Nikki jump up on stage to practice was priceless. All along, Nikki had said she wasn't going to dance. We were worshipping God and she was going to worship Him on the floor. It's not stage fright or anything (she's the director of the drama ministry). It's not that she doesn't know the dance (she performed it two weeks ago). No, she wasn't going to dance. Even if we were one person short; she wasn't going to dance; she'd make Tony do it. Tony's in the back of an ambulance.

Nikki was a little rusty, but she knew the dance. Unfortunately, she wasn't at peace about the situation. In fact, she left in the middle of worship and prayed in the bathroom. Sermon ends, pastor prays, we get on stage, pastor still praying, we get into position, pastor praying, we're ready, pastor's praying... We're all in position (lying on the ground as if we were dead) and I feel someone go past my head. I was the last one on stage. We're all here. I look up. It's Tony!

Tony walked in the room, saw us on stage getting ready and the pastor still praying, so he ran on stage, and still danced. I think Nikki almost cried.

In the case of the squirrel, we were all responsible.
Ryan and I were at fault because we were the first ones to see it.
Caroline was at fault because she called Dr. Jones.
Ryan was at fault because he put it in Tony's hands.
The nursing major was at fault because she witnessed the incident and forced Tony to go to the hospital.
Nikki was at fault because she organized the whole dance day.
All 15 of us claimed responsibility.

Claim responsibility for your actions and watch God work through them. React when you get the "Go" from God. Don't use excuses, Moses, but go.
"We're not called to be successful; we're called to be obedient." - Dimitri

In Christ,
<>< Katie

PS: Tony is fine. The same can not be said for the squirrel...

Explosions and Hosanna

Two funny stories for today:

This afternoon, my friend Brittany and I got our dinners and sat outside on the steps to the chapel. Brittany offered me some of her pudding, and I said I was full; if I ate any more I was going to explode.
"I want to see that," she said. We were teasing about it, and as if it was planned, I burped. "Well, I guess there it was."
"Thanks," I said, looking to the sky. Boy does our God have a sense of humor. :-)

The second story was from last night.
We were practicing and interpretive dance to the song "Hosanna" by Hillsong. During one part, we bow down to the Lord. Well, of course, whenever you get a group of college students together (especially late at night) we get a little silly. While we were bowing, David grabbed a branch he found on the ground. A palm branch. Yes. David bowed to the Lord waving a palm branch and singing "Hosanna." This is the week after Easter not the week before everyone. :-) I still love it!

I also love that Hosanna means "Save now." Not "Save sometime" nor "Saved" nor "Maybe save." No. "Save now." Our God is saving us now. Not past tense. Not future tense. Nothing. Save NOW.

<>< Katie

You did WHAT?!

When we were little, our dad would take us one-on-one to a private country club for lunch as a special treat. When he took Laura, they danced in front of a plethora of people. Why? There was a dance floor and there was music playing, so Laura wanted to dance. When Dad said yes, they could dance, there was no one else in the room. After they ate and the dancing came to fruition, the room was full.

When he took Christina, she ordered French Toast. Um... French Toast wasn't on the menu. The waitress had to check with the chef and see if that was possible. The chef said he'd make them special just for Christy. Halfway through her meal, he came out and asked how the French Toast tasted. She said it was delicious and by the time the conversation was over, he'd invited her into the kitchen to see it.

She loves to talk (more than I do!) and will talk to anyone! Leave her alone for ten minutes and she'll have at least fifteen new friends.

Her most recent adventure was getting to go backstage during a Switchfoot concert. She watched the show from backstage, how fun is that? (Ok, it'd be more fun if I liked Switchfoot). How'd she do it? I'm not completely sure, but I know she's not lying.

It can't hurt to ask, I guess.

In Christ,
<>< Katie

"But Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD." Genesis 6:8

Tonight I Dance Alone

So I promised myself I wouldn't talk about boys, think about boys, dream about boys, etc. I'm not in college to get my MRS. Although... My parents met in college. So many of my friends that are upperclassmen are getting married. As hard as I try, I am still a girl and I will probably dream about boys until the day I say, "I do" and after that I won't dream about "boys" I'll dream about my boy. :-D

I've come to terms the fact that I'm in college and have never been kissed. Never had a boyfriend. Never even been on a date. (OK, prom, but that's a date for a dance not like a date, date... yes, there's a difference, yes, it's hard to explain.)

But it's formal time and it's the first time since Homecoming of my senior year that I'm going alone. It's the first time since long before Homecoming that I'm in a group without any guys. It's weird. I'm not going to lie and say I was overzealous with the fact that I had a date, but now not having one I realize how fun it was to have one. Maybe it's just that I spent a few hours getting my hair done, doing my makeup, getting all pretty and there's no one that it's for. Maybe it's that I feel all that time was wasted because I am self-confident in my appearance without a gallon of hairspray and oodles of make-up. Maybe it's that I saw women all across campus heading out with their boyfriends for this special night. I don't know what it is. I can't say I'm lonely because I had a fun night making dinner with the girls. I think more incomplete.

However, I am willing to deal with my incompleteness until the Lord is ready. There are still some things He and I need to straighten out before I can add a man into the picture. I'm not ready, but, boy, do I want to be ready. :-) Someday my prince will come! Someday my prince and I will dance as one (and we won't grind!). Until then, I will feels like a princeless princess and be ok with it.

<>< Katie

"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him." Psalm 37:7