Our motto for this family get together has been, "It's a Christmas miracle!" The pants I bought you actually fit? It's a Christmas miracle! You guys made it here safely through the snow? It's a Christmas miracle! You found some extra dipping sauce in the back of the fridge? It's a Christmas miracle!
It's been a bit overkill. Don't get me wrong, I love acknowledging everyday miracles but "Christmas Miracle" is kind of a term already on reserve.
A few days before Christmas 2006, we received a phone call from my grandma. Our family friend Arnie, 81, had a seizure during dinner. He vomited, aspirated, and earned himself a flight for life ride to the intensive care unit.
While the rest of the world was preparing for a joyful holiday, we were preparing for the worst. Decisions were to be made on December 26. The decision was that life support would be terminated the following day after everyone had the opportunity to say goodbye to a warm hand.
The following morning, my dad received a wake-up call asking him to make the drive to be with them. While he was showering my grandma called back. She had to hand the phone to my grandfather because she was crying too hard to talk to my mom. They were tears of joy. Arnie was awake, sitting up, and by that afternoon he was asking for a drink.
Arnie lived for eight more months before he passed away peacefully. There was no reason he should have survived that December. His funeral was planned! Even my agnostic grandparents admitted it was a Christmas Miracle.
Sometimes God works in life-saving miracles and sometimes He works through everyday miracles. The question becomes, will we acknowledge them?
I pray you all had a miraculous Christmas, my friends.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label puke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label puke. Show all posts
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Reading Day
Little secret: I am not athletic. Sometimes if I'm by myself I walk so fast that I'm winded by the time I get where I'm going, but that's the closest I ever get to running. Sports are not my strength. I played basketball in 5th grade and I got really good at catching the ball...with my nose. I spent enough nights at the eye doctor getting my glasses fixed that I realized the WMBA was not in my future. Fathers are supposed to teach their daughters how to throw and catch; somehow I missed that lesson. In seventh grade I took up tennis because I had a weapon against the ball. It wasn't long before I figured out my strongest spot on the tennis court was at the net because there's minimal running involved in a volley. I played for six years but then I graduated high school and now the most exercise I get is ten minutes on the Wii Fit. Knowing this about myself, I don't know why I ever thought this was a good idea.
Classes were cancelled on Friday, so we hosted our biannual kickball game. Last year the English department started a new tradition where we play kickball once a semester. For a year we played teams that basically boiled down to English Education vs. English Writing. Well, then the science department got jealous and in a cowardly way challenged us to kickball, calling themselves the superior department. If they were so superior I don't know why they needed to bring the math department with them in order to beat us but whatever. They won this past fall, and Friday was our opportunity to earn our ball back.
We had more players than they did, so some of our players didn't get to play in the field. Elizabeth and I took ones for the team and just kicked and cheered. My first two kicks I was out before making it to first base. My third kick I made it all the way to second but we already had two outs and the play at the first made three. My fourth kick I managed to eventually get all the way home scoring a point for the good guys. English won 16-12!
Sometime in the two minutes between when I got back to my apartment and when I was planning on getting in the shower, Chris called.
"Come play ultimate frisbee!"
Little known fact, it was one of my secret goals before graduating to play ultimate frisbee. It's kind of our school's favorite game, so I didn't think it would be right for me to graduate without playing. Even though I have one more year I figured now was as good a time as ever; plus, I was already sweaty. Oh, and still fighting this cold, minor detail.
"I'm not very good at frisbee," I told Chris.
"That's ok; I am," he said. Between the two of us we could be two average players.
I held my own and even touched the frisbee a few times. I didn't score, but Hannah (the girl I was guarding) didn't score either... except the first one which didn't count because it was part of warm ups. I really did enjoy myself and the "Oh, my gosh, I'm so out of shape and thirsty" feeling that I had for an hour. But I lived.
After getting cleaned up and eating Japanese for dinner, a few of us went to see a movie. It was 8:00 and I could have gone to be (mind you, I hadn't yet been awake for 12 hours that day). I almost made it all the way through the movie, too, but in the last ten minutes I made a mad-dash from the theater. Since I'm pretty prone to bloody noses, no one really thought anything of it. Nope, it's going to be a long time before I eat Japanese food again. :-( Other than for those few minutes, I feel fine; it's weird. Whatever. Although, more than that I'm more upset my no-puking streak has to start over at just shy of three years. Before that random stomach bug in the middle of July (who the heck gets sick in July? The kids I babysat...) it had been six and a half years. That's still my record. Oh, well. One day I will break it!
Happy Reading Day, Katie... next year you should stick to reading on Reading Day.
<>< Katie
Classes were cancelled on Friday, so we hosted our biannual kickball game. Last year the English department started a new tradition where we play kickball once a semester. For a year we played teams that basically boiled down to English Education vs. English Writing. Well, then the science department got jealous and in a cowardly way challenged us to kickball, calling themselves the superior department. If they were so superior I don't know why they needed to bring the math department with them in order to beat us but whatever. They won this past fall, and Friday was our opportunity to earn our ball back.
We had more players than they did, so some of our players didn't get to play in the field. Elizabeth and I took ones for the team and just kicked and cheered. My first two kicks I was out before making it to first base. My third kick I made it all the way to second but we already had two outs and the play at the first made three. My fourth kick I managed to eventually get all the way home scoring a point for the good guys. English won 16-12!
Sometime in the two minutes between when I got back to my apartment and when I was planning on getting in the shower, Chris called.
"Come play ultimate frisbee!"
Little known fact, it was one of my secret goals before graduating to play ultimate frisbee. It's kind of our school's favorite game, so I didn't think it would be right for me to graduate without playing. Even though I have one more year I figured now was as good a time as ever; plus, I was already sweaty. Oh, and still fighting this cold, minor detail.
"I'm not very good at frisbee," I told Chris.
"That's ok; I am," he said. Between the two of us we could be two average players.
I held my own and even touched the frisbee a few times. I didn't score, but Hannah (the girl I was guarding) didn't score either... except the first one which didn't count because it was part of warm ups. I really did enjoy myself and the "Oh, my gosh, I'm so out of shape and thirsty" feeling that I had for an hour. But I lived.
After getting cleaned up and eating Japanese for dinner, a few of us went to see a movie. It was 8:00 and I could have gone to be (mind you, I hadn't yet been awake for 12 hours that day). I almost made it all the way through the movie, too, but in the last ten minutes I made a mad-dash from the theater. Since I'm pretty prone to bloody noses, no one really thought anything of it. Nope, it's going to be a long time before I eat Japanese food again. :-( Other than for those few minutes, I feel fine; it's weird. Whatever. Although, more than that I'm more upset my no-puking streak has to start over at just shy of three years. Before that random stomach bug in the middle of July (who the heck gets sick in July? The kids I babysat...) it had been six and a half years. That's still my record. Oh, well. One day I will break it!
Happy Reading Day, Katie... next year you should stick to reading on Reading Day.
<>< Katie
Sunday, April 25, 2010
What is Worship?
Saturday I woke up with a headache, cramps, and sore throat. Some expired Tylenol took care of the first two but the sore throat is here to stay. Sunday I woke up nauseous with a sore throat. This is a fun game. I managed to add another day to my no-puking stretch (2.5 years and counting; my record is 6 years) but by the time I made it to church I had a really good Scooby Doo voice. Wonderful. Normally when I get sick I can sing through loosing my voice. With a hopeful heart I began to sing, "Everyone needs compass-squoak. A love that's ----- let mercy fa-- on muheee."
God! I'm trying to praise You here. I'm worshipping YOU and You're taking away my ability to do that. Something just doesn't seem right with this picture. I'm giving You everything I've got.
The more I tried to sing, the worse my voice became (pity the people sitting next to me!) and the more frustrated I became.
Can't this wait until this afternoon? I just want to sing praises to You.
It was as if God responded, Katie, you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Huh?
You heard Me: you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Serve the least of these. There aren't any least-of-theses around right now. Yes, I'm listening to our sermon series on compassion. I know, but right now I'm praising You with what's left of my voice.
Look around you.
On my left was Emma, a first year nursing student who'd previously been sitting by herself.
I'm sitting with Emma instead of sitting in my normal spot!
Good start. Keep looking.
On my right was Kevin who'd dislocated his shoulder on Thursday.
Kevin can't drive for three to six weeks. How do you think He got here?
Keep thinking.
Last night after dinner Chris and I went to Dairy Queen to get blizzards buy one get one for a quarter. The line was literally to the door. The team manager was having a rough day. She made small blizzards instead of mediums, so she had to throw them away and start over. Based on the look on her face, this was one of many things that had gone wrong. A woman in front of us started chewing this employee out.
"You've thrown away $30 worth of stuff. I know you've had a bad day but you cannot let your customers see you like this. I've worked in retail a LONG TIME and you CANNOT let your customers see you like this. Did you notice? They're all standing in line patiently waiting why you throw a fit..."
She went on for a very long time. I don't understand how that was supposed to be beneficial for the employee. Both of the women were wrong. The woman behind us in line looked at the "angry woman" and said, "We all heard that." I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt thinking maybe she was saying "shut up"... until she got to the front of the line and whispered to her daughter, "Make sure that employee doesn't spit in our blizzards."
Chris and I both agreed this was "more awkward than 'The Office'" but neither one of us did anything about it. Why? We were scared the rest of the line was going to leap down our throats (maybe that would have healed my sore throat). Back up: we were scared. I wanted to give the employee a smile or wish her a good day but she never acknowledged my presence. I would have had to go out of my way to wish this woman a good day and I chickened out.
My intentions were good.
Good intentions don't get you anywhere. Picking up Kevin and sitting with Emma are good starts but neither one inconvenienced you. In fact, they both mean you don't have to sit in the pew alone.
I like sitting in the pew by myself!
It's my turn to talk. Put the towel on, Katie. Not just when you're at an inner-city church. Not just when you feel like it or it's convenient to you. Do it when it benefits My Kingdom. Clean the bathroom when it's not your turn and do it without complaining. Do the dishes even though you didn't dirty them. Give someone a ride to the caf because it's raining; don't see it as a waste of gas. Take up someone's dishes when you aren't headed that way. Give up a computer during your 10:00 blog-hour to let someone do homework. Put the towel on and serve the least of these. Touch the untouchables. Worship means so much more than singing.
We've talked about this before.
We have; you needed a reminder today.
Ok, got it. Can I have my voice back now?Nope. You know ASL; use those signs.
<>< Katie-Doo
Elizabeth: Between Katie and Adam someone is always sneezing today.
Adam: Nah, I'm always sneezing; it's not just today.
Elizabeth: Well, you're doing it excessively, and I'd like you to stop.
God! I'm trying to praise You here. I'm worshipping YOU and You're taking away my ability to do that. Something just doesn't seem right with this picture. I'm giving You everything I've got.
The more I tried to sing, the worse my voice became (pity the people sitting next to me!) and the more frustrated I became.
Can't this wait until this afternoon? I just want to sing praises to You.
It was as if God responded, Katie, you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Huh?
You heard Me: you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Serve the least of these. There aren't any least-of-theses around right now. Yes, I'm listening to our sermon series on compassion. I know, but right now I'm praising You with what's left of my voice.
Look around you.
On my left was Emma, a first year nursing student who'd previously been sitting by herself.
I'm sitting with Emma instead of sitting in my normal spot!
Good start. Keep looking.
On my right was Kevin who'd dislocated his shoulder on Thursday.
Kevin can't drive for three to six weeks. How do you think He got here?
Keep thinking.
Last night after dinner Chris and I went to Dairy Queen to get blizzards buy one get one for a quarter. The line was literally to the door. The team manager was having a rough day. She made small blizzards instead of mediums, so she had to throw them away and start over. Based on the look on her face, this was one of many things that had gone wrong. A woman in front of us started chewing this employee out.
"You've thrown away $30 worth of stuff. I know you've had a bad day but you cannot let your customers see you like this. I've worked in retail a LONG TIME and you CANNOT let your customers see you like this. Did you notice? They're all standing in line patiently waiting why you throw a fit..."
She went on for a very long time. I don't understand how that was supposed to be beneficial for the employee. Both of the women were wrong. The woman behind us in line looked at the "angry woman" and said, "We all heard that." I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt thinking maybe she was saying "shut up"... until she got to the front of the line and whispered to her daughter, "Make sure that employee doesn't spit in our blizzards."
Chris and I both agreed this was "more awkward than 'The Office'" but neither one of us did anything about it. Why? We were scared the rest of the line was going to leap down our throats (maybe that would have healed my sore throat). Back up: we were scared. I wanted to give the employee a smile or wish her a good day but she never acknowledged my presence. I would have had to go out of my way to wish this woman a good day and I chickened out.
My intentions were good.
Good intentions don't get you anywhere. Picking up Kevin and sitting with Emma are good starts but neither one inconvenienced you. In fact, they both mean you don't have to sit in the pew alone.
I like sitting in the pew by myself!
It's my turn to talk. Put the towel on, Katie. Not just when you're at an inner-city church. Not just when you feel like it or it's convenient to you. Do it when it benefits My Kingdom. Clean the bathroom when it's not your turn and do it without complaining. Do the dishes even though you didn't dirty them. Give someone a ride to the caf because it's raining; don't see it as a waste of gas. Take up someone's dishes when you aren't headed that way. Give up a computer during your 10:00 blog-hour to let someone do homework. Put the towel on and serve the least of these. Touch the untouchables. Worship means so much more than singing.
We've talked about this before.
We have; you needed a reminder today.
Ok, got it. Can I have my voice back now?Nope. You know ASL; use those signs.
<>< Katie-Doo
Elizabeth: Between Katie and Adam someone is always sneezing today.
Adam: Nah, I'm always sneezing; it's not just today.
Elizabeth: Well, you're doing it excessively, and I'd like you to stop.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Manuel Antonio
Guys, let me just confess for a second that I am the host to a parasite. She bums off me, uses my stuff, and just kinda hangs around. It's icky. :-) She also told me I'm not allowed to blog this weekend since I have a twenty page paper to write on the Christology of Jack Kerouac (puke!). Well, I'm going to be a disobedient enabler and post something I wrote a few days ago. It also seems appropriate given the fact that I'm up to my eyeballs in Kerouac.
<>< Katie
Heidi peered over her book and gazed out at the Pacific Ocean in front of her. It should have been a picture-perfect scene. And it was, except the book in her hands was an English copy of the Sun Also Rises rather than On the Road or anything else by Jack Kerouac and his fellow Beat writers. Not that she particularly enjoyed Kerouac; in fact, she much preferred Hemingway, but Kerouac would have been more appropriate for a Costa Rican hostel.
She glanced at Isaac asleep in the next hammock. While she was glad for him, she wished she could sleep, too. After all, it was his fault she hadn't slept well the night before. He'd spent the whole night hurling. Alcohol? Food poisoning? It was hard telling but it was still unpleasant to listen to for hours. But, she supposed that's what she got for spending $10 on a place to stay for the night. At least the bunk bed didn't collapse on her from the two girls sharing the top.
As she listened to the chicken-like sounds of the people speaking Spanish while playing cards on the other side of the patio, she glanced down at her book. Again she was disappointed with the language and setting. The Costa Rican pura vida atmosphere combined with the pot-smell of the hostel would have been perfect for Kerouac, and she was reading high-class, European Hemingway. Oh well, there was not much she could do about it but try to enjoy the salty ocean breeze as it blew the pages closed.
<>< Katie
Heidi peered over her book and gazed out at the Pacific Ocean in front of her. It should have been a picture-perfect scene. And it was, except the book in her hands was an English copy of the Sun Also Rises rather than On the Road or anything else by Jack Kerouac and his fellow Beat writers. Not that she particularly enjoyed Kerouac; in fact, she much preferred Hemingway, but Kerouac would have been more appropriate for a Costa Rican hostel.
She glanced at Isaac asleep in the next hammock. While she was glad for him, she wished she could sleep, too. After all, it was his fault she hadn't slept well the night before. He'd spent the whole night hurling. Alcohol? Food poisoning? It was hard telling but it was still unpleasant to listen to for hours. But, she supposed that's what she got for spending $10 on a place to stay for the night. At least the bunk bed didn't collapse on her from the two girls sharing the top.
As she listened to the chicken-like sounds of the people speaking Spanish while playing cards on the other side of the patio, she glanced down at her book. Again she was disappointed with the language and setting. The Costa Rican pura vida atmosphere combined with the pot-smell of the hostel would have been perfect for Kerouac, and she was reading high-class, European Hemingway. Oh well, there was not much she could do about it but try to enjoy the salty ocean breeze as it blew the pages closed.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Epiphany
Happy Epiphany!
This is the day celebrated to be when the magi found baby Jesus bringing Him gifts of gold, frankincense, myrrh. Even though they found Him in a lowly manger (or so it is commonly accepted) they brought Him gifts fit for a king. What gifts can you give the King?
This also means our Christmas trees can come down. The formerly self-decorating living room tree didn't quite make it to Christmas and is now puking bows.
Remember, wise men still seek Him!
<>< Katie
This is the day celebrated to be when the magi found baby Jesus bringing Him gifts of gold, frankincense, myrrh. Even though they found Him in a lowly manger (or so it is commonly accepted) they brought Him gifts fit for a king. What gifts can you give the King?
This also means our Christmas trees can come down. The formerly self-decorating living room tree didn't quite make it to Christmas and is now puking bows.
Remember, wise men still seek Him!
<>< Katie
Monday, January 4, 2010
Two Fish Named Earwax
This definitely was a "You had to be there" story and no one remembers exactly what "there" was, but I'm going to do my best to explain why my sister has two fish named Earwax.
Several years ago, my mom had a student we'll call Eric for one reason and one reason only: that is not his name. Eric had this fascination with earwax. One day, we were sitting at the kitchen table eating our after school snack while Mom was doing dishes and telling us about Eric's earwax obsession. She started a sentence, "He has these two fish..."
"Named Earwax?" I asked, finishing the sentence for her in the only logical manner possible. No one knows what the real end of her sentence because we were all ridiculing Eric's supposed two fish named Earwax.
Eric never had two fish named Earwax but the joke stuck. Even when our other pets earned themselves obscure names based on bodily discharges, "earwax" was reserved for the two fish we didn't have. Oscar became "Booger," Christina became "Rash," Cassie became "Turd," and our male cat named Misty became "Puke" ("Puke did his thing"). Our family was Rash, Booger, Turd, Puke, and two fish named Earwax.
The only problem is that we still didn't have any fish much less two of them with the same unique name. For years, this is where the joke stayed (well, except for my aunt and uncle naming their dog Fish and our new cat being nicknamed Cow... our poor animals!).
This Christmas, Christina received a fish tank. Of course, now we could finally have our two fish named Earwax! Even though she calls her three fish Mo, Curly, and Larry they will forever be Earwax, Earwax, and Fishy to me. Frankly, my names are better because it took Christina a week before she realized she'd named her fish after the Three Stooges.
When she got a fresh-water shark, she named him Bruce after the shark in Finding Nemo. Creative? I think not. I renamed him "Juice." I then learned he's a red-tailed shark, but he looks more like an orange-tailed shark, so he became "Orange Juice."
Today's new fish was a catfish cleverly named "Kitty." Growing up, my mom had a catfish named Flat Bush. She said for awhile she even forgot he was catfish; he was a flat bush in her eyes. Therefore every catfish will forever be named Flat Bush.
"Man, Katie, your family is weird," you say.
"If you only knew," I respond.
"UPGRADE!" Laura screams.
Be sure to check in every week to hear about the newest additions to our family. Christina can have up to 11 inches worth of fish but not all in one fish and they have to be added one a week.
<>< Katie
Several years ago, my mom had a student we'll call Eric for one reason and one reason only: that is not his name. Eric had this fascination with earwax. One day, we were sitting at the kitchen table eating our after school snack while Mom was doing dishes and telling us about Eric's earwax obsession. She started a sentence, "He has these two fish..."
"Named Earwax?" I asked, finishing the sentence for her in the only logical manner possible. No one knows what the real end of her sentence because we were all ridiculing Eric's supposed two fish named Earwax.
Eric never had two fish named Earwax but the joke stuck. Even when our other pets earned themselves obscure names based on bodily discharges, "earwax" was reserved for the two fish we didn't have. Oscar became "Booger," Christina became "Rash," Cassie became "Turd," and our male cat named Misty became "Puke" ("Puke did his thing"). Our family was Rash, Booger, Turd, Puke, and two fish named Earwax.
The only problem is that we still didn't have any fish much less two of them with the same unique name. For years, this is where the joke stayed (well, except for my aunt and uncle naming their dog Fish and our new cat being nicknamed Cow... our poor animals!).
This Christmas, Christina received a fish tank. Of course, now we could finally have our two fish named Earwax! Even though she calls her three fish Mo, Curly, and Larry they will forever be Earwax, Earwax, and Fishy to me. Frankly, my names are better because it took Christina a week before she realized she'd named her fish after the Three Stooges.
When she got a fresh-water shark, she named him Bruce after the shark in Finding Nemo. Creative? I think not. I renamed him "Juice." I then learned he's a red-tailed shark, but he looks more like an orange-tailed shark, so he became "Orange Juice."
Today's new fish was a catfish cleverly named "Kitty." Growing up, my mom had a catfish named Flat Bush. She said for awhile she even forgot he was catfish; he was a flat bush in her eyes. Therefore every catfish will forever be named Flat Bush.
"Man, Katie, your family is weird," you say.
"If you only knew," I respond.
"UPGRADE!" Laura screams.
Be sure to check in every week to hear about the newest additions to our family. Christina can have up to 11 inches worth of fish but not all in one fish and they have to be added one a week.
<>< Katie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)