Every ice cream cone you eat is a race: you versus the melting ice cream.
On Wednesday, I lost the race when a drop of chocolate ice cream landed on my Carolina-blue shirt. Of course, I was devastated and used every means available to remove the evidence.
After all, this wasn't just any blue t-shirt. This t-shirt was purchased as part of a fundraiser to send my friend Hannah to eleven countries in eleven months through The World Race. Hannah is important to me, and I want to proudly wear her missions shirt to support her. I don't want it to have chocolate ice cream stains on it.
Wait just a second.
What's the shirt for? Hannah's mission work through The World Race. I wonder if she has Shout wipes in her pack. I wonder if she's going to come home unstained after visiting eleven countries in eleven months.
I doubt it.
Friends, God doesn't call us to look as nice as pristine as we can. We're called to get dirty.
Jesus got dirty: He washed sore, dusty feet. (See John 13:1-17)
Jesus got dirty: He spent His time with tax collectors. (See Matthew 9:9-13)
Jesus got dirty: He wept when His friend died. (See John 11:1-44)
Jesus got dirty: He touched lepers. (See Matthew 8:1-4)
Jesus got dirty: He spit on His own fingers to heal. (See Mark 7:32-35)
Jesus got dirty: He was whipped, mocked, and crucified. (See Luke 22:47-24:12)
Jesus got dirty; why don't we?
Do I care more about the chocolate stain on Hannah's Race shirt than the people she's going to be ministering to, loving, and serving? Of course not. At least not anymore.
Do you?
<>< Katie
PS: The stain washed out of my shirt, but I don't want this lesson to wash out of my heart.
Showing posts with label ice cream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ice cream. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2011
Friday, October 29, 2010
Self-Serve Ice Cream
When it comes to upper body strength, I'm a weakling. Lift this heavy item? No, thanks. Do a pull up? Yeah, right. When you're a weakling, you need tricks. You wedge your hip against the ice cream cooler and pull, with two hands if necessary.
Most days, that works. Yesterday not so much. I've scooped myself a lot of ice cream over the last three plus years, and I will say this was honestly the hardest I've ever seen the ice cream. After five minutes of struggling I still didn't even have a spoonful.
"It's really hard today. We just put in the new buckets," said the male voice behind me. "Do you want me to give it a try?"
Out of breath, I turned and surrendered my scoop... to our executive chef.
You know those people who are always smiling and have a kind word? I call them "Radiators" because they radiate love, grace, and compassion. Our executive chef is one of them.
He took the scoop and half-disappeared into the cooler. He came up for a breath and gave me an "Oh my gosh!" look before diving in for a second go.
The executive chef stopped what he was doing (probably refilling the dessert tray, explaining to Nikki the science behind why the alfredo sauce looks like gravy, or making something delicious at the end of the salad bar) to serve me from the self-serve ice cream. I did nothing to deserve his help but he saw a need and sought to satisfy it.
Ladies and gentlemen, that's is exactly what God calls us to do. Stop what we're doing and offer to help. See needs, no matter how big or how small, and satisfy them. To serve one another, even if that means putting our other responsibilities on hold.
Thank you, Mr. Executive Chef, for the reminder. And for the ice cream.
<>< Katie
Most days, that works. Yesterday not so much. I've scooped myself a lot of ice cream over the last three plus years, and I will say this was honestly the hardest I've ever seen the ice cream. After five minutes of struggling I still didn't even have a spoonful.
"It's really hard today. We just put in the new buckets," said the male voice behind me. "Do you want me to give it a try?"
Out of breath, I turned and surrendered my scoop... to our executive chef.
You know those people who are always smiling and have a kind word? I call them "Radiators" because they radiate love, grace, and compassion. Our executive chef is one of them.
He took the scoop and half-disappeared into the cooler. He came up for a breath and gave me an "Oh my gosh!" look before diving in for a second go.
The executive chef stopped what he was doing (probably refilling the dessert tray, explaining to Nikki the science behind why the alfredo sauce looks like gravy, or making something delicious at the end of the salad bar) to serve me from the self-serve ice cream. I did nothing to deserve his help but he saw a need and sought to satisfy it.
Ladies and gentlemen, that's is exactly what God calls us to do. Stop what we're doing and offer to help. See needs, no matter how big or how small, and satisfy them. To serve one another, even if that means putting our other responsibilities on hold.
Thank you, Mr. Executive Chef, for the reminder. And for the ice cream.
<>< Katie
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The War is Over
Thankful for the three layers under her red winter jacket, she sits in a rocking chair on the front porch. The cars cruise down the highway, most of them obliviously to her obscure location.
Wishing she'd opted for the hot chocolate instead, she attempts to maneuver her gloved hand around the spoon in her McFlurry. Her dinner, a Taco Bell Chulupa with chicken, sits in her lap forgotten. Not unlike she is.
"You want to let me in?" she calls on her cell phone.
"Oh... uh... shoot... well... see... uh... um... we're still at the grocery store," explains the voice on the other end. "We're on our way back," he lies.
The clock tower lets out a chime. It's 5:45. According to the invitation, the Superbowl party in the boys' dorm started fifteen minutes earlier. For the first time in her life, she's glad she didn't arrive on time.
The ice cream in her cup does not threaten to melt, but she's slowly losing feeling in her fingers as she touches the plastic spoon to her lips.
"He begged me to come," she said aloud to herself, remembering the pleading facebook messages asking her to ditch the Superbowl party in her apartment to attend his. Now he's failed to arrive at his own party and left her sitting in the cold.
Ten minutes later, the ice cream is gone; she is still waiting. Suddenly, the door behind her pops open revealing the morgue turned boy's dorm as her party host bursts out into the chilling winter night. She glances at her watch and starts up at him.
"We have chips," he says with a sly smile.
Of course, chips make her frost bite worthwhile because now instead of begging for mercy, he'll beg for grace, and he'll want it in the form of cheese chip dip. Yet she'll give it. If only in the name of forgiveness and familial love.
-------
Dear Mr. Kevin Kassakatis,
I was not going to update my blog twice today. However, your tasteless, rude behavior this evening left me no choice. I have considered this your forfeiting the war and will being my victory dance as soon as I thaw.
Kind regards,
<>< Katie Ax
PS: But I still love you.
Wishing she'd opted for the hot chocolate instead, she attempts to maneuver her gloved hand around the spoon in her McFlurry. Her dinner, a Taco Bell Chulupa with chicken, sits in her lap forgotten. Not unlike she is.
"You want to let me in?" she calls on her cell phone.
"Oh... uh... shoot... well... see... uh... um... we're still at the grocery store," explains the voice on the other end. "We're on our way back," he lies.
The clock tower lets out a chime. It's 5:45. According to the invitation, the Superbowl party in the boys' dorm started fifteen minutes earlier. For the first time in her life, she's glad she didn't arrive on time.
The ice cream in her cup does not threaten to melt, but she's slowly losing feeling in her fingers as she touches the plastic spoon to her lips.
"He begged me to come," she said aloud to herself, remembering the pleading facebook messages asking her to ditch the Superbowl party in her apartment to attend his. Now he's failed to arrive at his own party and left her sitting in the cold.
Ten minutes later, the ice cream is gone; she is still waiting. Suddenly, the door behind her pops open revealing the morgue turned boy's dorm as her party host bursts out into the chilling winter night. She glances at her watch and starts up at him.
"We have chips," he says with a sly smile.
Of course, chips make her frost bite worthwhile because now instead of begging for mercy, he'll beg for grace, and he'll want it in the form of cheese chip dip. Yet she'll give it. If only in the name of forgiveness and familial love.
-------
Dear Mr. Kevin Kassakatis,
I was not going to update my blog twice today. However, your tasteless, rude behavior this evening left me no choice. I have considered this your forfeiting the war and will being my victory dance as soon as I thaw.
Kind regards,
<>< Katie Ax
PS: But I still love you.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Lord, I'm Amazed by You
Picture this:
It's July, so I'm eating ice cream.
Yet I'm standing outside wearing long pants and a hoodie because it's not even 60 degree outside.
What's wrong with this picture?
Nothing.
I am at a bonfire with 50 of my closest friends. (No, I'm not close enough to actually feel the fire therefore I am physically shaking).
We're being led in hymns like
"How Great Thou Art"
"O Come All Ye Faithful" (no, I'm not kidding... it's not the first nor second Christmas song I've sung this weekend either, haha)
"Lord, I'm Amazed by You".
A great night of worship praising our Abba Father!
Good night everyone,
<>< Katie
It's July, so I'm eating ice cream.
Yet I'm standing outside wearing long pants and a hoodie because it's not even 60 degree outside.
What's wrong with this picture?
Nothing.
I am at a bonfire with 50 of my closest friends. (No, I'm not close enough to actually feel the fire therefore I am physically shaking).
We're being led in hymns like
"How Great Thou Art"
"O Come All Ye Faithful" (no, I'm not kidding... it's not the first nor second Christmas song I've sung this weekend either, haha)
"Lord, I'm Amazed by You".
A great night of worship praising our Abba Father!
Good night everyone,
<>< Katie
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