(Not) Getting Murdered

No matter how many times David said, "We're not going to get murdered," I was still scared.

He was my navigator telling me to drive two miles down a dirt road in the dark.

It was kind of like driving on ice in that I didn't exactly have complete control of the car. And it was kind of like terrifying in that we were smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Did I mention it was nighttime and we were alone? Well, except for the truck following us, driven by the murderer.

For two miles, the conversation essentially went:
Katie: We're gonna die.
David: No, we're not.
Katie: We're gonna get murdered.
David: We're not gonna get murdered.

Yet still I kept driving.

I trust David, and I trusted he wasn't really leading me down a dangerous path.

If I trusted David, how could I be so fearful?

Well, I was in a very scary situation: I was driving down a dirt road with my brights on but not in complete control of the car, in the middle of nowhere to a house where I've never been, at night, with a guy who is older, bigger, and wiser than I am, and we were being followed. Maybe not the smartest decision of my life.

In ASL, the words for FEAR and TRUST are opposites. You can't sign them both at the same time (I tried). Fear and trust cannot co-exist.

Yet still they did in my car.

Still they do in my life.

I'm in a scary situation. After four long years I graduated with a degree that lacks a defined job at the end. I'm working as a freelance writer and not making enough to pay for food.

But if I say I trust the Lord, how can I be so fearful?

I am not the driver and not the navigator in this life. I'm just a passenger letting the Lord take this car wherever He desires.

But that doesn't mean I'm doing it quietly. I'm crying, I'm protesting, I'm convinced I'm gonna die. I have dug my heels into the ground, literally shouted naughty words at the Lord, and nearly punched someone in frustration.

That isn't trust. That's protesting. That's complaining.

God and I have this conversation regularly:
Katie: This is scary.
God: Just trust Me.
Katie: I want to but I can't. I'm scared.
God: I love you perfectly. Please, just trust Me.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot merge fear and trust. Something's got to give.

On Saturday, I surrendered to trust David, let go of the fear, and kept driving.

The dirt road did eventually end. Surprise: we didn't get murdered! The truck following us was driven by Cody who, turns out, is not a murderer. (Well, if he is, he's a very bad one since he didn't seize a perfect opportunity).

The road forked and BOOM there was a house with lights on, the door open, and the host and hostess inviting us in.

Daily surrender to trust the Lord doesn't mean this bumpy path of unemployment is going to end. God doesn't promise a smooth journey. He does promise that He'll journey with us.

So far, He has.

Life ain't great. But still every morning the sun rises (proof enough of God's faithfulness), I'm still breathing and, eventually, I can pull myself from the five layers of blankets. Some days come with more self-confidence than others but each day a new chance to proclaim His faithfulness even in the desert.

I protested with David but kept going. I'm protesting the Lord but still stepping forwards in obedience.

What's scary about obedience is the lack of control and the lack of knowing where you're going.

The house David, Cody, and I arrived at was home to a family who welcomed us with open arms, fed us a delicious dinner, and let us raid their game room.

This is less than half of their game collection.

Worth it.

If we continue in obedience, God promises that some day we will arrive Home to His open arms.

Luckily, we don't have to wait until then. In every step we can cling to His perfect love. In obedience and even in failure, He's RIGHT THERE.

That is hope enough to keep on truckin'.

Putting one foot in front of the other and taking each day one step at a time,
<>< Katie

What Would You Write?

Write what you know.

That's what writers are always told. I'm not good at following that advice. I always seem to start writing stories that I have no authority to write, horrors I can barely imagine.

What do I know? I know what it's like to go to a college prep school. I know what it's like to live with seven other girls in a four-bedroom apartment. I know what it's like to attend fifteen concerts by the same artist.

What I know is boring, at least to me.

Who wants to read a fictional work based on the reality of being an unemployed recent grad? Not me, that's for sure.

But it got me thinking: if I were the author who got my fictional character into this mess, how would I get her out?

Would I turn one of her cold-calling strangers turn into a job offer? (In this economy?)

Would I send a knight in shining armor to whisk her away to marital bliss? (That sounds pleasant, cheesy, and unrealistic)

Would I have her blog discovered and novel picked up by Huge Name Publishing House and it become a best seller? (I'm just dreaming all possibilities here)

Would I send her to graduate school, the international mission field, or a homeless shelter?

Would I make her sulk and wait? Wonder and hope? Would I teach her about trust and obedience?

I am not the Author of this life. And I guess that's a good thing since none of these options seem good and viable at the moment.

I am the protagonist in this lifestory, trusting the Author's plan. Unlike me, He doesn't change His mind, He doesn't kill characters for plot excitement, and He definitely doesn't abandon half-finished stories. 

And that, my friends, brings me hope.

<>< Katie

Obedience

I'll be honest: I've spent quite a bit of time in our campus' prayer room lately.  On a regular basis that time has involved harsh words, pleading, and tears.

Even though I'm going for the world record number of bloody noses in a single week, there has been no bleeding in the prayer room. There has been no serious sweating in the prayer room.  There has definitely been no sweating blood.

My prayer time always includes, "Not my will but Yours be done."  Words I do not even feel qualified to say given the severity of God's will surrounding the original usage of those words.  God's will meant pain, suffering, abandonment, death.

"Thy will be done."

Obedience is a hard thing to learn.

Ask Abraham, obediently ready to sacrifice is only son, the son given against all odds.

Ask Moses, asked to return to the land where he was considered a murderer and demand the freedom of his people.

Ask Jesus, asked to live perfectly and die a brutal, undeserving death.
"My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

Are you willing to pray, "Not my will but Yours be done"?
Will you be found obedient? 
Even to death?

Suiting up for a wild ride,
<>< 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...

Light of the World

I had written a blog about garbage men and trash pickers, but it really had no point, so I deleted it and started over with something more useful. Then I wrote a second one but didn't like it either... so now we're on attempt three, I hope you like it!

God calls us to be a light to the world. I want to encourage you not to be like the light over the sink in my dorm room.

This light turns on quite slowly so you stand in a dark room for a minute or two before it finally decides it'll light up. Don't be slow to answer God's call, but trust in Him whether you understand it or not. (Chances are, normally it will be the latter).

This light randomly goes out. My roommate and I will be sitting there and all of the sudden the room gets darker. The first time it happened, we thought the light was broken and put in a work order. When the maintenance man came, the light turned on and worked fine. We were embarrassed and he had less work to do one day. Don't go out when you need God the most. Don't hide behind a bushel. Stand firm.

This light also has a tendency to flicker back on then off again. On again, off again. Do you always follow Christ or do you flicker in your obedience? Do you follow today, disobey tomorrow?

Ok, maybe one of the other two blogs I wrote this morning was better, but I'm not starting over again. Sorry all. I need a job.

<>< Katie

"I [Jesus] have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." John 12:46