Eight twenty-somethings sat squished around a card table. It has become a Monday night tradition.
Although I sit among them with minimal elbow space, I feel far away. Six of them are in graduate school together taking the conversation to a level where I spend more time trying to find the verb in the sentence than actually comprehending it. The other two have jobs. Real jobs, careers. They make money, own homes, and cook real meals.
There I am. Lost among friends. It's not their fault. Does that mean it's my fault?
My fault I didn't get into grad school? My fault I don't have a job? My fault I'm stuck in limbo? My fault that sometimes I wear work clothes just so I can feel like a real person?
Even putting those words on paper... er... the screen seems ridiculous. But it's very real. Real enough to bring tears to my eyes... again.
Let's just be real: job searching sucks. (Although, I have a new appreciation for rejection letter because it means the company loves you enough to tell you they don't want you rather than just letting you guess).
People always ask me what I'm called to do, if I feel led to a certain job or company, etc. What the heck does that even mean?
I am called to do the same thing every one else is called to do: to love and serve the Lord wherever He puts us.
For six of my Monday dinner buddies that means serving Him through divinity school. For the other two, it means honoring Him in their respective careers.
For me, it means trusting in the unknown. It means looking hopefully towards the future (whatever that is) but also finding a way to enjoy today. It means adding "free Monday dinner and enjoyable socialization time" to my list of 1,000 gifts. It means knowing this time in between isn't a wasteland. It means trusting that I haven't been deserted in this desert.
It means sometimes I get to write mopey posts because, in order to be a real person, I need to be real about my struggles and fears. I don't have it all together. I don't know what I'm going to be if I grow up. I don't know what tomorrow looks like.
But I do know One who will accompany me tomorrow.
Because He is faithful.
"Yet still I dare to hope when I remember this: the faithful love of the Lord never ends. His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness. His mercies begin a new each morning. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritence' therefore I will hope in Him." Lamentations 3:21-24
Keeping it real,
<>< Katie
"I am sure that some people are born to write as trees are born to bear leaves. For these, writing is a necessary mode of their own development." - C. S. Lewis
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Life-Long Friendships
My dad's birthday was earlier this month, so while everyone else was out, I had the job of answering our home phone. I don't usually pay any attention to the home phone because no one calls me there. But this particular day I did and what I saw was an area code from Baptist Country.
Even though I knew the call wasn't for me, I got excited. Talking on the phone to someone in that state made me feel closer to my college friends. It was the wife of one of my dad's college buddies calling to wish Dad a happy birthday.
A few hours later we received another call from Baptist Country. This time it was the husband of the woman who called earlier. I answered the phone and passed it on to the Birthday Boy.
Even though he went into the other room, I could still hear their bantering, the inside jokes and stories that never get old, and the gut-busting laughter. I couldn't help but smile. Even though their relationship has been mostly limited to an annual dinner (thanks to having a daughter in the area... wait, that was me) and birthday phone calls, my dad and Mark still have a friendship.
That brought me an amazing amount of encouragement to know that even when we're not seeing each other every day, my college friends and I can still joke around, retell stories, and (yes, even) sass each other. While the miles between us will change, our friendship will remain the same.
<>< Katie
PS: College friends who thought they were finally free of me and my sassy, sanitary self... so sorry!
Even though I knew the call wasn't for me, I got excited. Talking on the phone to someone in that state made me feel closer to my college friends. It was the wife of one of my dad's college buddies calling to wish Dad a happy birthday.
A few hours later we received another call from Baptist Country. This time it was the husband of the woman who called earlier. I answered the phone and passed it on to the Birthday Boy.
Even though he went into the other room, I could still hear their bantering, the inside jokes and stories that never get old, and the gut-busting laughter. I couldn't help but smile. Even though their relationship has been mostly limited to an annual dinner (thanks to having a daughter in the area... wait, that was me) and birthday phone calls, my dad and Mark still have a friendship.
That brought me an amazing amount of encouragement to know that even when we're not seeing each other every day, my college friends and I can still joke around, retell stories, and (yes, even) sass each other. While the miles between us will change, our friendship will remain the same.
<>< Katie
PS: College friends who thought they were finally free of me and my sassy, sanitary self... so sorry!
Labels:
Baptist Country,
call,
college,
Dad,
friends,
friendship,
Mark,
phone,
sass,
storytelling,
teasing
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Healed By His Wounds
Last week I got unjustifiably angry at my close friend "Keely." It was silly really. It all boiled down to me being jealous... and hurt.
Something happened in the living room and instead of addressing it like an adult, I pouted in my room and text-vented to Amber. I got so worked up that I was crying. Silently. Even in the same room, my roommate was unaware that I was having one of the most intense text conversations of my life.
For the next several days I held a grudge against Keely. That's when the suitemates began to notice.
"You've been extra sensitive lately, Katie."
"Katie and Keely have to sit on opposite sides of the room because they might rip off each others' head."
The two of us agreed to tone down our playful sassing for awhile and make sure we're showing love. Through carefully planned words (and some not-so-carefully planned ones) I acknowledged why I had been so sensitive. When it all boiled down to it, my anger had nothing to do with Keely. Yet she had been the recipient of my frustration, jealousy, and anger.
She accepted my apology, which she said was unnecessary. She hadn't considered my feelings about the situation. We both decided to be more careful and move forward.
I got to take communion this week (a rare event in Baptist Country). In confessing my sin to my Lord, the first situation that popped into my head was the situation with Keely. I again asked for forgiveness and for those hurt feelings to be removed. I wanted to be healed of the whole situation.
I almost cried again when Keely served me the bread.
"Body of Christ, given for you."
Forgiveness. Given to me.
"But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:5 (emphasis mine)
Be healed in His wounds today, friends.
<>< Katie
Something happened in the living room and instead of addressing it like an adult, I pouted in my room and text-vented to Amber. I got so worked up that I was crying. Silently. Even in the same room, my roommate was unaware that I was having one of the most intense text conversations of my life.
For the next several days I held a grudge against Keely. That's when the suitemates began to notice.
"You've been extra sensitive lately, Katie."
"Katie and Keely have to sit on opposite sides of the room because they might rip off each others' head."
The two of us agreed to tone down our playful sassing for awhile and make sure we're showing love. Through carefully planned words (and some not-so-carefully planned ones) I acknowledged why I had been so sensitive. When it all boiled down to it, my anger had nothing to do with Keely. Yet she had been the recipient of my frustration, jealousy, and anger.
She accepted my apology, which she said was unnecessary. She hadn't considered my feelings about the situation. We both decided to be more careful and move forward.
I got to take communion this week (a rare event in Baptist Country). In confessing my sin to my Lord, the first situation that popped into my head was the situation with Keely. I again asked for forgiveness and for those hurt feelings to be removed. I wanted to be healed of the whole situation.
I almost cried again when Keely served me the bread.
"Body of Christ, given for you."
Forgiveness. Given to me.
"But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:5 (emphasis mine)
Be healed in His wounds today, friends.
<>< Katie
Labels:
Amber,
anger,
Baptist Country,
communion,
cry,
forgiveness,
friends,
friendship,
frustrated,
God moments,
grudge,
Isaiah,
jealous,
sass,
sin,
text message,
upset
Thursday, September 9, 2010
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
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
Labels:
Allyson,
Amy,
dance,
Elizabeth,
fairy tale,
flip,
friends,
friendship,
Jennifer,
Katie,
laughter,
Nikki,
sing,
sleeping,
sleepover,
story,
story telling,
storytelling,
suitemates
Friday, July 16, 2010
April
Last summer, I helped with an inner-city VBS. I was sitting at the table with several preteen boys. I knew the family situation of these boys was not good. Two of the boys were being removed from their home and put into foster care. A different boy at the table was their cousin; he began trash-talking their parents. The older of the two kids in foster care, naturally, became defensive of his parents and threatened violence against his cousin.
I've worked with kids a long time. I can say, "I'm trained to handle that" to most situations, but this one was out of my expertise. I tried to get the kid to apologize. Fail. I tried to "jump the shark" and change the subject. Fail. I had no idea what to do. And I froze.
April came to my rescue. She knew this family's story and how to handle these boys. As soon as she had the situation under control, I excused myself from the table and moved to color with the little kids. I'm much more comfortable with crayons. It was during that week that I decided I wanted to be April when I grow up.
This week, I jokingly said, "God, I'd love to grow up to be April as long as I don't have to marry a guy like Christian." April's husband is one of the leaders of my 20s ministry, and on Monday we played Jenga. Until I accidentally knocked the tower into Christian's lap and he showered me with blocks. Mind you, Christian is a pastor and we are at church. We moved on to building with Jenga blocks where I used my right hand to build while using my left to knock Christian's hand away from destroying my creation. Luckily, I learned a long time ago that sassing and vexing is a love language, and most of my friends think it's my primary love language.
I love Christian and April. They're such a godly couple. Sure, they don't always get long. I've seen that, but I've also seen them both admit when they're wrong. I've seen them willingly give of themselves to serve God's Kingdom. I've seen them be used by Him. I've only known Christian and April for a year or so, but I do know I need more people like them in my life.
Happy birthday, April. I'm so glad you're coming home soon. We both know it's not good for Christian to be home alone. :-)
<>< Katie
I've worked with kids a long time. I can say, "I'm trained to handle that" to most situations, but this one was out of my expertise. I tried to get the kid to apologize. Fail. I tried to "jump the shark" and change the subject. Fail. I had no idea what to do. And I froze.
April came to my rescue. She knew this family's story and how to handle these boys. As soon as she had the situation under control, I excused myself from the table and moved to color with the little kids. I'm much more comfortable with crayons. It was during that week that I decided I wanted to be April when I grow up.
This week, I jokingly said, "God, I'd love to grow up to be April as long as I don't have to marry a guy like Christian." April's husband is one of the leaders of my 20s ministry, and on Monday we played Jenga. Until I accidentally knocked the tower into Christian's lap and he showered me with blocks. Mind you, Christian is a pastor and we are at church. We moved on to building with Jenga blocks where I used my right hand to build while using my left to knock Christian's hand away from destroying my creation. Luckily, I learned a long time ago that sassing and vexing is a love language, and most of my friends think it's my primary love language.
I love Christian and April. They're such a godly couple. Sure, they don't always get long. I've seen that, but I've also seen them both admit when they're wrong. I've seen them willingly give of themselves to serve God's Kingdom. I've seen them be used by Him. I've only known Christian and April for a year or so, but I do know I need more people like them in my life.
Happy birthday, April. I'm so glad you're coming home soon. We both know it's not good for Christian to be home alone. :-)
<>< Katie
Labels:
annoying,
April,
Birthday blog,
boy,
Christian,
cousin,
family,
foster care,
friends,
friendship,
Jenga,
kid,
kids,
leader,
pastor,
sass,
VBS
Friday, April 9, 2010
Happy birthday, Rebecca
"How's your family?" I asked Rebecca over dinner a few months back. I already knew the answer thanks to the sporadic caringbridge updates, but it would have been ruder of me not to ask.
"They're having a grand time in their little tiny apartment," she told me, her Pennsylvania accent not nearly as thick as her mother's. Mrs. Karen and I used to tease about the desire to sit for hours and listen to the other talk just to hear our different accents. Mine's not as strong as it used to be, a repercussion of living in the south nine months out of the year, but it's still there to be a frequent source of mocking. Rebecca's accent has faded, too, I noticed as she went on to tell me about her family of five (plus two dogs) living in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a hyper-sensitive (no light, sound, touch, etc.) sister battling Lyme disease. If Rebecca wanted to talk Lyme, I was more than willing to discuss it with her, but a year and a half after diagnosis who really wants to keep repeating the horrors of the debilitating disease? That's what caringbridge is for. Dinners are for reminiscing with old friends, and that's exactly what we did. We retold our favorite stories about growing up together, the three years we were neighbors.
"Remember when we had a four-bedroom cardboard house in your basement?"
"The one we used seven rolls of duct tape to build? Yes!"
It's so funny to hear the different memories we both share in addition to the ones the other has forgotten. Sometimes I think these stories are better than the ones we both remember. I'd forgotten about the time we "flew" into her basement by climbing through the window. She'd forgotten about our "synchronized swimming routine" in my pool. Of course, neither one of us has forgotten the "pump up the new born baby," the restaurant in her basement, or playing hide and go seek. One set of parents would laid down some rules and the other would obey them. Even grandparents knew we had to be home for dinner at 5:30, and after dinner we could play again until the neighborhood lights came on. Those were the rules and we accepted them.
When sharing my testimony I always say Rebecca was placed in my life to provide me when a friend during the challenges of middle school. Really, I believe that to be true but I also believe Rebecca and her family were placed in my life to show me what it's like to live as a Christian. To show me selflessness, hope, discipline, and love. Even now, when I get emails about their medical fight, every update ends with a scripture, hope-filled song lyrics, or a prayer.
Living in different parts of the country now (between the two of us, we could claim residency in six different states) makes it hard to get together and share life on a regular basis. Prior to our dinner last month, it had been three years since I'd seen her. Even though I wasn't feeling well enough to actually enjoy eating dinner, I thoroughly enjoyed our dinner conversation. We picked up exactly where we left off, as friends and sisters in Christ.
All this to say, happy birthday, Rebecca; thank you for the joy, hope, and love you've brought into my life. One day I will watch you play basketball; I hope it's in a WMBA game.
<>< Katie
"They're having a grand time in their little tiny apartment," she told me, her Pennsylvania accent not nearly as thick as her mother's. Mrs. Karen and I used to tease about the desire to sit for hours and listen to the other talk just to hear our different accents. Mine's not as strong as it used to be, a repercussion of living in the south nine months out of the year, but it's still there to be a frequent source of mocking. Rebecca's accent has faded, too, I noticed as she went on to tell me about her family of five (plus two dogs) living in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a hyper-sensitive (no light, sound, touch, etc.) sister battling Lyme disease. If Rebecca wanted to talk Lyme, I was more than willing to discuss it with her, but a year and a half after diagnosis who really wants to keep repeating the horrors of the debilitating disease? That's what caringbridge is for. Dinners are for reminiscing with old friends, and that's exactly what we did. We retold our favorite stories about growing up together, the three years we were neighbors.
"Remember when we had a four-bedroom cardboard house in your basement?"
"The one we used seven rolls of duct tape to build? Yes!"
It's so funny to hear the different memories we both share in addition to the ones the other has forgotten. Sometimes I think these stories are better than the ones we both remember. I'd forgotten about the time we "flew" into her basement by climbing through the window. She'd forgotten about our "synchronized swimming routine" in my pool. Of course, neither one of us has forgotten the "pump up the new born baby," the restaurant in her basement, or playing hide and go seek. One set of parents would laid down some rules and the other would obey them. Even grandparents knew we had to be home for dinner at 5:30, and after dinner we could play again until the neighborhood lights came on. Those were the rules and we accepted them.
When sharing my testimony I always say Rebecca was placed in my life to provide me when a friend during the challenges of middle school. Really, I believe that to be true but I also believe Rebecca and her family were placed in my life to show me what it's like to live as a Christian. To show me selflessness, hope, discipline, and love. Even now, when I get emails about their medical fight, every update ends with a scripture, hope-filled song lyrics, or a prayer.
Living in different parts of the country now (between the two of us, we could claim residency in six different states) makes it hard to get together and share life on a regular basis. Prior to our dinner last month, it had been three years since I'd seen her. Even though I wasn't feeling well enough to actually enjoy eating dinner, I thoroughly enjoyed our dinner conversation. We picked up exactly where we left off, as friends and sisters in Christ.
All this to say, happy birthday, Rebecca; thank you for the joy, hope, and love you've brought into my life. One day I will watch you play basketball; I hope it's in a WMBA game.
<>< Katie
Labels:
Birthday blog,
dinner,
friends,
friendship,
hope,
joy,
Kaitlyn,
life,
Lyme Disease,
pool,
Rebecca,
rules
Monday, January 4, 2010
Book Review: Love Languages
I asked for the Five Love Languages for Christmas. Grandma thought it sounded dirty but didn't consult my mother before buying it. She figured the singles edition would be cleaner, so she made the executive decision that I needed The Five Love Languages: Singles Edition.
Ouch!
Upon further investigation, I realize I do fit the target audience.
Adult? Check
Single? Check
I could not help but laugh to myself because receiving the singles edition of a book is in stark contrast to the Christmas with the other side of the family the night before ("Katie, any cute guys at your school?"). The irony is that the stalking-family doesn't invite boyfriends/girlfriends to Christmas and the book-gifting side included four boyfriends in our midst. Mixed messages here, folks.
I put the "You're going to be single for the rest of your life" condemnation aside and read the book. Enjoyed it, too.
Gary Chapman analyzes five ways people feel loved:
1. Quality time
2. Gifts
3. Acts of service
4. Words of encouragement, affirmation
5. Physical touch
He argues every person enjoys all five but has one specific love language they need in order to truly feel loved. I struggled to figure out my own primary love languages but had no trouble discovering the love languages of those around me. It was actually really fun to think about the important people in my life and how I can best express my love and appreciation to them.
Even though I am not currently in a romantic relationship, I feel this book was worth my time. I'd recommend reading it (singles edition or normal edition) to anyone who interacts with people on a regular basis. Chapman is not humble when discussing how the concept of the five love languages has saved countless marriages. I don't know if this is true or not but I can see how it could be helpful between couples, struggling or not. I would love to someday read it again with my fiancé prior to our marriage because I think it's an area where we should be on the same page.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, the singles edition isn't actually cleaner but neither book is dirty. I've read things in class that are dirtier than this (BEFORE I took an entire semester of Beat Lit).
One book down for 2010, meaning 14 to go!
<>< Katie
Ouch!
Upon further investigation, I realize I do fit the target audience.
Adult? Check
Single? Check
I could not help but laugh to myself because receiving the singles edition of a book is in stark contrast to the Christmas with the other side of the family the night before ("Katie, any cute guys at your school?"). The irony is that the stalking-family doesn't invite boyfriends/girlfriends to Christmas and the book-gifting side included four boyfriends in our midst. Mixed messages here, folks.
I put the "You're going to be single for the rest of your life" condemnation aside and read the book. Enjoyed it, too.
Gary Chapman analyzes five ways people feel loved:
1. Quality time
2. Gifts
3. Acts of service
4. Words of encouragement, affirmation
5. Physical touch
He argues every person enjoys all five but has one specific love language they need in order to truly feel loved. I struggled to figure out my own primary love languages but had no trouble discovering the love languages of those around me. It was actually really fun to think about the important people in my life and how I can best express my love and appreciation to them.
Even though I am not currently in a romantic relationship, I feel this book was worth my time. I'd recommend reading it (singles edition or normal edition) to anyone who interacts with people on a regular basis. Chapman is not humble when discussing how the concept of the five love languages has saved countless marriages. I don't know if this is true or not but I can see how it could be helpful between couples, struggling or not. I would love to someday read it again with my fiancé prior to our marriage because I think it's an area where we should be on the same page.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, the singles edition isn't actually cleaner but neither book is dirty. I've read things in class that are dirtier than this (BEFORE I took an entire semester of Beat Lit).
One book down for 2010, meaning 14 to go!
<>< Katie
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Brothers in Christ
Since my reader is anonymous, I can't tailor my blogs to her (I think it's a her).
Confession time: I my only brother is the tractor. Sometimes I eel like I missed out by being in a primarily female family. My dad always teases he's the minority in the sorority, but it's actually true. My life has almost always been filled with female friends and I've had very few close guy friends over the years. This summer my sister was teasing me about the "four" guys I have in my phone. (In my defense, I really have more than four guy friends but that's beside the point... and I mean their numbers in my phone not the guys themselves because that would be weird). I think all of these factors could contribute to why I don't really know how to behave around guys.
However, as of late, I've discovered I have a lot more guy friends than I'm given credit for having. I mean, go back and reread this blog. Either I have my share of guy friends, I'm making up, or the few I do have just inspire me write. (All of the above is not an option). I've also taken a look at where I've spent my time lately. Monday night confirmed this inkling when I was actually one of the guys for a few hours.
Monday night, my Green Bay Packers played the Minnesota Vikings and I was invited to watch the game with a bunch of guys (and a few girls briefly). At first, I was wondering if they were all Vikings fans who invited me over for a good laugh as my team was destroyed. Most of them are Vikings fans, but they didn't laugh at me. Not even when I confessed part of a deep secret: I don't really understand football. I know to cheer when the green guys are running and to boo when the purple guys score. I know Brett Favre is a traitor. I know the thing on my head is a cheesehead. Ask me about scoring and I'm clueless. I even had to think if football games were separated into quarters or only halves. Hockey I can explain in full detail. Tennis I can play. I understand the basics of basketball and baseball, but football and futbol (soccer) leave me totally confused.
It didn't really matter. We weren't all glued to the tv. Fellowship, friendship, and football took place in that dorm room. I looked over Four Year Plans (I love these!), we traded pictures from this last weekend, and we shared life together. I got the opportunity to witness true selflessness (a guy offering to drive a friend three hours to her date with a different guy, sit around while she was on her date, and drive her three hours back), someone else pull the door shut to shield the girls' eyes when a friendly dorm prank turned dirty and involved the removal of pants, oh, and I wasn't killed when I helped myself to a guy's food either. I realize this isn't normal: we all gathered to watch the football game and it was just background noise, yet it was wonderful. It is how it should be: brothers and sisters helping each other out and spending time together while honoring their Abba Father.
<>< Katie
Oh, and just to clarify: I'm not dating nor am I trying to impress any of these guys. They didn't pay me to say this either; they're the brothers I've never had. :-)
Confession time: I my only brother is the tractor. Sometimes I eel like I missed out by being in a primarily female family. My dad always teases he's the minority in the sorority, but it's actually true. My life has almost always been filled with female friends and I've had very few close guy friends over the years. This summer my sister was teasing me about the "four" guys I have in my phone. (In my defense, I really have more than four guy friends but that's beside the point... and I mean their numbers in my phone not the guys themselves because that would be weird). I think all of these factors could contribute to why I don't really know how to behave around guys.
However, as of late, I've discovered I have a lot more guy friends than I'm given credit for having. I mean, go back and reread this blog. Either I have my share of guy friends, I'm making up, or the few I do have just inspire me write. (All of the above is not an option). I've also taken a look at where I've spent my time lately. Monday night confirmed this inkling when I was actually one of the guys for a few hours.
Monday night, my Green Bay Packers played the Minnesota Vikings and I was invited to watch the game with a bunch of guys (and a few girls briefly). At first, I was wondering if they were all Vikings fans who invited me over for a good laugh as my team was destroyed. Most of them are Vikings fans, but they didn't laugh at me. Not even when I confessed part of a deep secret: I don't really understand football. I know to cheer when the green guys are running and to boo when the purple guys score. I know Brett Favre is a traitor. I know the thing on my head is a cheesehead. Ask me about scoring and I'm clueless. I even had to think if football games were separated into quarters or only halves. Hockey I can explain in full detail. Tennis I can play. I understand the basics of basketball and baseball, but football and futbol (soccer) leave me totally confused.
It didn't really matter. We weren't all glued to the tv. Fellowship, friendship, and football took place in that dorm room. I looked over Four Year Plans (I love these!), we traded pictures from this last weekend, and we shared life together. I got the opportunity to witness true selflessness (a guy offering to drive a friend three hours to her date with a different guy, sit around while she was on her date, and drive her three hours back), someone else pull the door shut to shield the girls' eyes when a friendly dorm prank turned dirty and involved the removal of pants, oh, and I wasn't killed when I helped myself to a guy's food either. I realize this isn't normal: we all gathered to watch the football game and it was just background noise, yet it was wonderful. It is how it should be: brothers and sisters helping each other out and spending time together while honoring their Abba Father.
<>< Katie
Oh, and just to clarify: I'm not dating nor am I trying to impress any of these guys. They didn't pay me to say this either; they're the brothers I've never had. :-)
Labels:
brother,
family,
fellowship,
football,
friendship,
male,
Packers,
tractor
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So many memories, so many miles
Four blogs in three days. I must be sick. Actually, I am. :-)
My best friend Mary came over last night. I got home from work and had a splitting headache (remember, the sick part?) and wasn't thrilled about having to play hostess. I kind of vegged around the house and did nothing until about 8:30pm when my phone rang. Without looking at it or talking to her all day, I knew it was Mary, and I knew it was because of the construction. I answered the phone,
"The bridge is out. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."
When she got here, my headache kind of disappeared, and we played games all night long. Cribbage, Life, Scattergories, Stratego, Rack-O, etc. All classic Mary and Katie games. Surprisingly, this time we actually played by the rules and didn't make up our own rules. We've played Cribbage where if you don't want to throw into the crib you don't have to. If you don't like the letter rolled in Scattergories, you can roll again (ok, we did do that a few times, but, come on, how many pizza toppings, diseases, and Biblical women start with "K"?) Although, we still did some of our quirky traditions like naming our kids in Life as they came along...
I've known Mary since I was two. It's fun to hang out with someone like that who knows you soooooo well. We've teased that we aren't allowed to speak at each others' weddings because too many embarrassing stories will come out. Like the flair on facebook says, "We'd better stay friends forever because if we become enemies, we'll have too much blackmail." Even though Mary and I no longer have any common friends, experiences, or hobbies, we can still hold a multi-hour conversation. It's not one-sided. It's not "Oh, you weren't there for that." It's not "Do you know this person?". It's not awkward when the conversation finishes. A few minutes of silence is fine before the next conversation starts itself.
That's how things should be with Jesus. He shouldn't be awkward to talk to. He's always been there. He knows all of the same people. It should be an easy conversation. When the conversation ends, the silence of just being together should be nice before the next conversation begins.
When Mary got hungry while she was here, she didn't ask if I had any food. She'd help herself to the pantry and find food I didn't even know we had. If she wanted something to drink, she found a glass and filled it with ice. Let Jesus raid your pantry. Allow Him to fill your cup! "Have a Mary heart in a Martha world". Sorry, that was bad. See Luke 10. (Did that link really work? That'd make me uber happy if it did!)
After spending twenty-four hours with Mary, I would have expected myself to be sleep deprived. Shocking we were in bed, lights out, talking put on hold by 1 am. It's appalling because we normally try to stay up all night! Even though I got enough sleep, I have no voice. Too much talking (again, remember the sick part?). People here need to learn ASL because I hate not being able to communicate effectively. :-)
<>< Katie
"[Martha] had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. " Luke 10:39
My best friend Mary came over last night. I got home from work and had a splitting headache (remember, the sick part?) and wasn't thrilled about having to play hostess. I kind of vegged around the house and did nothing until about 8:30pm when my phone rang. Without looking at it or talking to her all day, I knew it was Mary, and I knew it was because of the construction. I answered the phone,
"The bridge is out. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."
When she got here, my headache kind of disappeared, and we played games all night long. Cribbage, Life, Scattergories, Stratego, Rack-O, etc. All classic Mary and Katie games. Surprisingly, this time we actually played by the rules and didn't make up our own rules. We've played Cribbage where if you don't want to throw into the crib you don't have to. If you don't like the letter rolled in Scattergories, you can roll again (ok, we did do that a few times, but, come on, how many pizza toppings, diseases, and Biblical women start with "K"?) Although, we still did some of our quirky traditions like naming our kids in Life as they came along...
I've known Mary since I was two. It's fun to hang out with someone like that who knows you soooooo well. We've teased that we aren't allowed to speak at each others' weddings because too many embarrassing stories will come out. Like the flair on facebook says, "We'd better stay friends forever because if we become enemies, we'll have too much blackmail." Even though Mary and I no longer have any common friends, experiences, or hobbies, we can still hold a multi-hour conversation. It's not one-sided. It's not "Oh, you weren't there for that." It's not "Do you know this person?". It's not awkward when the conversation finishes. A few minutes of silence is fine before the next conversation starts itself.
That's how things should be with Jesus. He shouldn't be awkward to talk to. He's always been there. He knows all of the same people. It should be an easy conversation. When the conversation ends, the silence of just being together should be nice before the next conversation begins.
When Mary got hungry while she was here, she didn't ask if I had any food. She'd help herself to the pantry and find food I didn't even know we had. If she wanted something to drink, she found a glass and filled it with ice. Let Jesus raid your pantry. Allow Him to fill your cup! "Have a Mary heart in a Martha world". Sorry, that was bad. See Luke 10. (Did that link really work? That'd make me uber happy if it did!)
After spending twenty-four hours with Mary, I would have expected myself to be sleep deprived. Shocking we were in bed, lights out, talking put on hold by 1 am. It's appalling because we normally try to stay up all night! Even though I got enough sleep, I have no voice. Too much talking (again, remember the sick part?). People here need to learn ASL because I hate not being able to communicate effectively. :-)
<>< Katie
"[Martha] had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. " Luke 10:39
Monday, May 19, 2008
Uno Mas
This started as a game with my friends from high school, but I'm pretty sure I've never played with them. :-) My church friends now love it, and we play every chance we get (we even played in a bus once!). It involves going around a round-about repeated while giggling and screaming "Uno Mas! UNO MAS!" ("One more! One more!").
It's really fun (and funny). The problem is: you waste gas and don't go anywhere. You drive in circles again and again and again until the passengers get dizzy, the driver is bored, or another car comes.
Sometimes do you drive in circles repeatedly with God? Keep passing by the same spot but never really going anywhere? Sometimes you have to hit the turn signal and exit the round-about. It's not easy. Driving in circles is much more fun but moving on is much more productive.
<>< Katie
Disclaimer: Do not play on big round-abouts with lots of cars nor at busy times of the day. Round-abouts in parking lots work very well. This blogger is not responsible for any injuries, dirty looks, nor tickets as a result of playing Uno Mas.
It's really fun (and funny). The problem is: you waste gas and don't go anywhere. You drive in circles again and again and again until the passengers get dizzy, the driver is bored, or another car comes.
Sometimes do you drive in circles repeatedly with God? Keep passing by the same spot but never really going anywhere? Sometimes you have to hit the turn signal and exit the round-about. It's not easy. Driving in circles is much more fun but moving on is much more productive.
<>< Katie
Disclaimer: Do not play on big round-abouts with lots of cars nor at busy times of the day. Round-abouts in parking lots work very well. This blogger is not responsible for any injuries, dirty looks, nor tickets as a result of playing Uno Mas.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)