The Next Piece

She was ready to give up. The 1,000 piece puzzle with a nature scene was too daunting to even think about completing. I told her not to call it quits.

Two weeks later, I was hardly in the back door when Ms. Donna ushered me to the puzzle on the dining room table.

"Look at how much we've gotten done!"

Their progress had more than doubled. The remaining pieces were sorted by approximate color.

I went to work. We chatted loosely and ate chips while we fingered every single piece of the puzzle.

Some where instant fits. Others seemed to go to a different puzzle. Sometimes we'd get two or six in a row. Sometimes we'd have minutes where nothing worked.

Those were the worst. The times you begin to say, "Surely there's something better I could be doing with this Sunday afternoon. Why am I even here doing this? It's just going to go back in the box when we're done anyway."

And then you'd get a piece to fit correctly. Maybe even two. Or sometimes it would be more minutes before another piece worked.

Yet still hope had been renewed; we found the strength and determination to continue.

I began to pray:

God, I don't want to see the cover of the puzzle box. I don't know what the final scene will look like, and I'm ok with that. I just want the strength to be able to say, "I can do this for another day because I know You're with me."

Some puzzle pieces are instant, easy, obvious fits. Those are my favorites.

Some take a little more work. Some you're not even convinced belong to the right puzzle. Either way, I'm ready for the next piece.

I will complete this life puzzle, one lousy piece at a time.

The final product will be worth it.

<>< Katie

Quality Time

As my week back home in Baptist Country was drawing to a close, I pondered who I had gotten to see for a substantial amount of time and who I wanted to spend more time with.

The friends I am closest to, naturally, fit into the "I want more time!" category. But I began to wonder, how much more time did I want? If life and other obligations were no object, how much time would be sufficient with them?

Forever.

I wanted to stay in their apartment forever.  I wanted to sit in their offices and chat days away.  I wanted to never ever leave again.

Of course, an infinite amount of time with my friends would be fun.

But I decided that's what kind of relationship I want with the Lord. I want to lock myself in the prayer room and never come out. I want to sit at His feet and never move. I want to rest on the chest of my Abba Father.

Forever.

<>< Katie

Glory in Tragedy

I don't think we could have fit anything else into this weekend had we tried.  A pasta dinner for 30 high school tennis girls, a baby shower (with two-week old baby), a graduation/ birthday party, a tennis quad, a family reunion, church, dinner out, and... the wake for a fourteen year old.

Her death was instant. There was no warning. There was nothing that could have been done.  It could not have been prevented.  Her life could not have been saved.  No one is at fault.

Yet a fourteen year old is dead.

In all honesty, I don't know how non-Christians cope with tragedies like this.  Even with hope and a loving God, it's hard to bury a fourteen year old who seemed healthy one minute and gone the next.

Is our God not a loving God who cares for His children? I don't just mean Emily. What about her family? Her parents? Her older sister? Her friends whose home she was walking home from? Fifty minutes worth of drivers who drove down that busy street without noticing her unconscious and not breathing on the sidewalk? Her classmates about to enter high school without her?

Tough questions.

But I believe Emily was not alone on that sidewalk. God was with her every step of her walk home; she just arrived at a different Home than would have been expected. Even though her body was kept breathing for two days, Emily was immediately delivered into the loving arms of her Creator.

The same God that cradles their precious daughter, holds tight to Emily's parents giving them the strength to host mourners in their home, the ability to make jokes and even laugh a little as the receiving line weaved through the funeral home and out into the parking lot. He holds their tears, their hands, and their hearts.

He will be glorified, even though this situation our human eyes see as tragic and incomprehensible. That is my prayer.

It’s the only thing I can pray.  And I was just a student, nine years ahead of her at the same school.

<>< Katie

Storm

It's that time of year again when thunderstorms stretch all of the way across the country.

We had a great one the other night!  The sky would not just illuminate so it looked like daytime but it would light up with sometimes three or four distinct lightning bolts.

Even though I was driving, every time this would happen, I would squeal with joy.  "Did you see that one?!"  It drove my sister nuts.

Sitting next to me in the passenger seat she was less than thrilled to be out in a storm.  Before even getting in the car, she repeatedly told me to drive safely.  She asked several people to text her if our Tornado Watch turned into a Tornado Warning.  She was counting down the minutes until we made it home safely and praying the storm would pass quickly.

I too was excited to get home. I wanted to sit by our Palladian window and watch the lightning.  She wanted to sit in the basement away from all windows.

Two reactions to the same thunderstorm.  Likewise, there can be two reactions to the same life storm.

The reaction of Christina: praying it passes quickly, closing your eyes and hoping for a safe delivery to the other side, and wincing when the lights flickers.

The reaction of her older, wiser sister: enjoying the journey, getting a thrill from the unknown, and hoping the power goes out so the views are undistributed.

God, let me enjoy life storms as much as I enjoyed that thunderstorm.  May I not just pray for it's quick passing but may I see Your peace amidst and through the storm.  May I rejoice in every trial, see Your hand in every situation, and delight in the journey rather than waiting for the final result.  If that's what it takes to praise You, bring the storm!

It makes me think of the MercyMe song "Bring the Rain"

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

What about you?  Do you prefer the stormy parts of life or the peaceful?  Can you dance in the rain or do you ask for smooth sailing?

Learning to enjoy the storms of life,
<>< Katie

Life Box

One of my friend's art expressions class had to fill a box with items to represent them.  Any kind of box/container was accepted.  One student used a guitar case; my friend used a shoe box.  The then had to present the items in their box, explaining its representation, and talking about themselves for ten minutes.

In telling us about this project, I asked my friend what she put in her box.

"A guitar pick because I'm learning guitar.  A flip flop because I'm from the beach.  Pictures of my family and my best friends.  A puzzle piece because I love puzzles.  My favorite scarf because fashion is really important to me..."

She went on for a long time trying to remember all of the items in her box.

"Oh, and I put in a Book of Common Prayer because I couldn't put in a Bible," she said.

"Why couldn't you put in a Bible?"  I figured maybe it was a class rule.

"It didn't fit."

I continued to listen patiently but inside my heart was breaking.  We all pack our life box and realize God doesn't "fit" into the plan we've created.  We take everything out, rearrange a little bit, and realize everything's not going to fit.  Some thing's going to have to go.  But what?  We're attached to everything.  Letting go of anything is a painful part of life.  But, unfortunately, it's necessary.  Sometimes God asks us to say good bye to hobbies, relationships, locations, traditions...

The question is: are you building your life box around Him or are you trying to fit Him in at the last second?

<>< Katie
PS: What would you put in your life box?
Mine: my Bible, my iPod (we'll pretend I have a working one), my Writer's Notebook, my purple Nalgene, my phone, some hand sanitizer (of course), lotion, the ring and cross necklace I wear daily, a glassblown cup, a scrapbook, and my passport (for journeys past and present), and a book to read all in a Louis M. Martini wine box to represent my cultural heritage.

Green Beans on the Ceiling

Back in the day when my mom fed my sister green beans out of the jar, I learned some life lessons.  Once, Mom accidentally dropped the jar, and green beans went everywhere.  To my four-year-old self, this was fiasco.  The ultimately BIG MESS!  Mommy should have gone to time out. 

But she didn't.  She laughed.  She laughed so hard we had to write a song/poem about it in order for Daddy to fully grasp the magnitude of the mess we (she) made.

Green beans on the ceiling.
Green beans on the floor.
Green beans in the kitchen.
Green beans galore.

There really were green beans everywhere.  We found them splattered on the cabinets fifteen feet away.  We found them on the nine-foot ceiling.  I don't think we could have created such a massive green bean explosion if we had tried.

But Mom wasn't mad.  I panicked.  Mom laughed.  Sure, there was a huge mess to clean up but so what?  It was almost as funny as the time Grandpa sneezed egg all over the wall.

In that moment, she taught me that messes are ok.  She taught me to laugh at myself.  She taught me sometimes things don't happen was we plan but that doesn't mean it's the end of the world.

And she did it all with a jar of green beans.

Learning to decorate with green beans,
<>< Katie

3:42am

Let's admit it: we all face writer's block.  I've heard arguments that it deoes not exist, but reality is that sometimes the words just don't come.  Some days it's because you can't find the time and other days the blank piece of paper (or blank "Document 1") is just too overwhelming to produce anything, much less anything worth while.

A few weeks ago Nikki and I were emailing about the hectic schedules we face this summer and the lack of free writing time.  I suggested she take five minutes and just write.  Pen to paper... three, two, one GO!

But what to write?
1. Peanut Butter Bagel
"I had peanut butter on my bagel today instead of cream cheese, and I feel the need to write about it."

2. A funny or sad or embarassing or random story
It could be from fifteen years ago of fifteen seconds ago, no one really cares.  You don't have to justify why you thought about it right now.  Just write it.  Embellish if you feel like it.

3. "I don't know what to write but Katie told me to write so I am doing it."
MercyMe actually has an entire song about this (ok, without me). It's entitled "3:42am" and it's my prayer for life.

"3:42 am (Writer's Block)" by MercyMe

3:41am make that 3:42

time just keeps rolling on while I'm here stuck like glue

so many things cross my mind but nothing stays awhile... so frustrating

I just want to say something worthwhile... speak through me.

Say, say what You wanna say... and say it loudly

Say, say what You wannna say.

6:45am, man, that just can't be right

3 hours have gone by and this is all I've got

My common sense tells me I should get out of the way.... so You can speak

O, Lord, show up or I'll be here all day... speak through me.

Say, say what You wanna say... and say it loudly.

Say, say what You wanna say... speak through me.

If the idea's mine it's nothing but a waste of time.

So won't You say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say (say it loudly)

Say, say what You wanna say.

Say, say what You wanna say.

and say it louldy

Say, say what You wanna say... speak through me

If the idea's mine it's nothing but a waste of time

So won't You say, say what you wanna say.

Don't wait until you have time to write or you'll never write.  Make time.  And let Him use you.  Let the Writer write; you be the pen.

<>< Katie

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

Bus Ride Prayer

On the long bus ride back from the ski trip, we took a Prayer Break where all distractions were put away. Or at least that was the intent. My distractions are often in my head (aka mentally writing), so eliminating those are hard but I really tried. No iPod, no cell phones, no movie, no talking; only talking to God.

I folded my hands but opted against closing my eyes. If I closed my eyes, I probably would have fallen asleep. Besides, who wants to close their eyes while riding through the beautiful mountains?

Katie: Hey, God, I absolutely love these mountains You've created. I'm willing to risk motion-sickness and take my eyes off the road to enjoy this beautiful creation You've made. Every tree perfectly formed and every mountain hump meticulously placed. The effort and precision amazes me!
God: You know, Katie, I put the same amount of effort and precision into creating you.

My prayer time could have been over right then and there. I was content; I was filled. But it wasn't. There was still eighteen minutes to go, and God had more things He wanted to teach me. He often teaches me through the things I see (another reason I didn't want to close my eyes).

We passed a sign that said, "Rest Area. No facilities."
I began to think to myself about how dumb that is: a rest area with no facilities. As we drew closer there was another sign stating it's a look-out point without facilities. Ok, beautiful but not practical.

We all, women especially, want to be considered beautiful. Most of us enjoy feeling pretty. In fact, sometimes when we're getting gussied up we don't pay attention to the practical. We're too concerned with "Does this look good" than "Will I be able to walk in these shoes?" We much rather have lovely long eye lashes than realize we can't see because mascara is making lines down our glasses every time we blink. I prayed that God make my life practical rather than beautiful.

Maybe He doesn't have fame and glory in my future. Maybe my blog will never have more than eleven readers. Maybe the words He's given me have a deep impact on those eleven readers and draw them closer to Him. Maybe that type of intimacy isn't available in a community with a larger reading audience. Maybe one day I'll be ok with that. I prayed that day would be soon. Make my life practical rather than beautiful.

Not five minutes later, the Garmin fell. Sitting in the front seat of the bus, I crawled forward, rescued it off the dash board, stuck it back together, and re-suctioned it to the windshield.

"Good in theory; poor in design," the bus driver said to me with a smile.

I am a firm believer that things should be designed by the people who are going to use them. College students should design dorm rooms. Teachers and students should design classrooms. Doctors and nurses should design hospitals. Bus drivers should design Garmins.

However, there is one exception to this rule. One time when the "thing" being used should not be designed by the user. Life. My life should not be designed by me, the liver (aka the person living it). Instead, I believe life should be designed by God. After all, the life we create is good in theory but poor in design. The life we make is beautiful but not practical.

Travel with me through the mountains of life and into this dangerous prayer:
Abba Father, make my life practical rather than beautiful. Wipe away my good theories and replace them with Your great designs. Let me be ok with it.

Let me know how I can pray for you and have a wonderful week!
<>< Katie

Huh?

I woke up the morning after Christmas to find my sisters and our family friend Evie watching a movie. I was disappointed they hadn't waited for me to watch it with them, but I figured I'd see it at a later point in time. Actually, it was one I wanted to add to my small collection of movies; I heard it was really good.

Several hours later the movie ended and they walked into the kitchen bewildered. I asked what they thought, and they were all very confused. Eventually they concurred they would not need to watch the movie again, had no idea what it was about, and wanted to watch the deleted scenes for clarification. Problem: there were no deleted scenes to be found.

I think we have a similar problem with life. We look at scenes, time spans, and sometimes even entire lives and are left bewildered. Are there some vital deleted scenes we missed? Always. Just like the movie director has a big picture in mind, God has a big picture in mind. Just like the movie viewer, we don't always get to see the big picture. Even at the end of the movie, or the end of life, we sit back to reflect and realize we're more confused than we were previously. It doesn't make sense.

However, I assure you that God's plan does make sense. We're just missing scenes. He has seen them, He knows the unmentioned details, He understands the purpose. Max Lucado says, "God not only knows your story, He wrote it." God not only knows the movie plot in your life, He wrote it. He didn't forget parts, eliminate vital scenes, or mess up lines... He just hasn't shown us the whole picture (even though we think we've seen it).

<>< Katie

Bananagrams

I have a new favorite games: Bananagrams. It's basically like Scrabble but without the board, you play off your own letters, and you can rearrange. To me, the best part is flipping over your tiles for the first time and seeing what kind of crazy words you can make. I also love it when you're so frustrated you start rearranging insanely and are amazed and some of the words that pop up. Those words weren't there thirty seconds earlier, but now all of the sudden you have huge words like "Taxation" or "Planet" or "Quiver". They all appear.

In the same way, after you're looking at one thing (or aspect of life) in one manner for eons, it looks boring. You seem to feel like there's nowhere to go, no way to change, nothing. Yet if you rearrange a bit, break the rut, and suddenly all sorts of new options appear!

"I don't expect God to speak to me through that metal pole." - Jonathan
"BUT He can!" - Katie

<>< Katie

Use Me

I think I over-estimated my number of readers... does anyone actually read these blogs?

Last week Monday, my friend Jessica was concerned about the lack volunteers for VBS. We all concurred that God would provide.

On Wednesday, I went out to lunch with a mutual friend Emily to discuss high school ministry and in the four parking stalls between her car and mine, she somehow convinced me to see if Jessica still needed help for VBS. I knew God would provide for Jessica, but I never expected that I would be the one He provided. In reality, God dropped people from the sky for her, and the fall didn't hurt. God and I had a good laugh all the way home.
"Use me," I said, "but obviously You don't need my permission to do that. Yet I still give it."

Well, a week later I have survived my first VBS ever! There are a plethora of children's songs running on shuffle in my head... where they have been for the last week. Yet the effects of VBS go a whole lot deeper than musical hallucinations.

Last night, I drove past a dead opossum on the road. I chuckled when I contemplated pulling over, putting my hand on it, and saying, "God gives up life!" (And I half expected a loud "Fear not!" to follow).

This afternoon, my VBS kids were running back towards church and I said, "Let's use our walking feet." Imagine my surprise when every single one of them slowed down and began to walk! I was still talking, and one of them turned around and said, "SHHH!!" to me! I forgot, walking feet go with quiet mouths and listening ears! It only took a week for them to learn and less time than that to forget, but it feels good to be shhh-ed by a four year old.

One of my VBS friends loved the firefly he made on Monday. Every day he asked if he could take it home, and everyday the answer was, "You may take it home on Friday." Everyday he told me, "This is my firefly. It reminds me that God is with us! FEAR NOT!" Some lessons do actually stick.

Max Lucado recommends taking a walk with a child every day to see life from their point of view. Well, every day this week I got to see God through the eyes of a four year old, and let me just tell you: He is good!

Learning to Listen,
<>< Katie

Near-Death Experiences

I know... long time, no blog. My apologizes to my... er.... two readers.

Yesterday, our whole family went to a baseball game. Well, ok, I didn't go. I learned afterwards that God literally saved my life and the lives of my mom and grandfather.

It started to rain, so my grandparents went to sit in the car (where they could watch the game dry). Well, five minutes didn't pass and a pop-up ball landed exactly where they had been sitting.

A little while later, a ball was whipped into the stands at about 90 mph (ok, that's perhaps an exaggeration... but that's what Mom said). It just so happened that at that very moment, Christina leaned to the side, and the ball whizzed between her and Dad. Less than five minutes earlier, Mom had been sitting in between the two of them, but she stepped out to use the restroom. Had she been sitting there when the ball flew by, it would have hit her square in the chest probably killing her.

But, Katie, how did God save your life yesterday? You weren't even at the game.

Well... balls and I don't get along. They hit me in the face no matter how nice I am to them. Had I been at that game, I have no doubt one of those two balls would have collided with my face. I don't know why I chose to leave instead of going to the game. I just did. God made me. That's all there is to it.

Obey even when there seems to be no logical reason to do so.

<>< Katie

God Speaking

Comments make my day. :-) I'm glad you like the song references. I'm sure there are more to come.

I wrote a blog during work today but wasn't pleased with it, so I saved it and decided to finish it later. It was talking about how all morning on Sunday I had different songs from Casting Crowns' Altar and the Door CD rotating through my head. I finally got them to go away and they sang "Everyman" in church. Annoying? Yes.

I then came home today and learned one of our family friends is in the hospital with a life threatening illness. She's younger than my youngest sister, and she's been really sick for several months. They finally have a diagnosis, but treatment will require multiple months stay in an out-of-state hospital. Prayers are much appreciated! I was texting my friend (her older sister) not really listening to my iPod as it played on shuffle in the background. Our conversation ended and I realized the song that was playing is on that I consider "her song." Of the 2,869 songs on my iPod, playing today was one of the two songs she gave me when they moved away. Perfectly planned? Of course.

I got an email update about her sister a few hours later in which she shared this story that went right along with this theme. She was driving yesterday with Casting Crowns Lifesong CD playing. She said it was a bright and sunny day when "Praise You In This Storm" came on. By the time the song hit to the chorus, rain drops were falling. When the song finished, so did the rain. Coincidence? Not with God.

In the words of Mandisa, "Who knows how He'll get a hold you. Get our attention to prove He is enough. He'll do and He'll use whatever He wants to, to tell us: 'I love you.'"

In Christ,
<><>

"Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise His Holy Name...Who forgives all your sings and heals all your diseases." Psalm 103:1,3