Last Friday when we got in the van on our way to Philadelphia, Lori was a bit groggy from her midnight shopping trip. She talked about seeing a man from her church, Mark. His pregnant wife Beth was two days overdue at the time. Obviously she couldn't go shopping, so she sent him out with a huge list of items to get Black Friday shopping.
"Wouldn't it be funny if he went home ready to take a nice long nap and she went into labor?" Lori said.
God thought it would be funny, too. By the time we were in the Wells Fargo Center enjoying our intense hockey experience, Beth had gone into labor.
After the game, we got back in the van and Mr. Steve said, "God said we can come to Him in the good and in the bad. Today we need to go before Him in the bad."
I thought he was referring to the recent devastating Flyers' loss in the third round of the shoot out.
No, Beth had delivered the baby and there were complications. We didn't have a lot of information. Neither did Beth. But the baby had been transferred to a different hospital, and the prayer chain notified.
So pray we did. Right there in the middle of a traffic jam in Philadelphia. We said we wanted healing for Mark and Beth's youngster. We didn't even know if it was a girl or a boy. We didn't know what was wrong. But we knew God knew. We knew God cared. We knew God could heal the baby, if it was His will.
It was His will. But He healed the baby in the way we weren't hoping for. By the time we made it home after a cheese steak, Mark and Beth's son was being held safely in the arms of his Heavenly Father.
Do me a favor and take a minute to pray for Mark and Beth and other families that have lost children. I cannot fathom such a joyous occasion turning so devastating so quickly.
Do me another favor and let me know how I can best pray for you.
Thanks, friends.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Friday, December 3, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Clean Up on Aisle Twelve
I'm thinking about updating my blogger profile to read, "My name is Katie, and I single-handedly keep security camera men from falling asleep on the job."
It was the summer after I graduated high school. Mom and I had gone to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to pick up some stuff for my dorm room. Among those items, plastic crates. You know, the ones that serve almost no purpose in real life and shouldn't be found anywhere but in a dorm room. I had three homemade wooden boxes (that leave purple and turquoise paint everywhere they sit) and opted to buy two plastic ones, too. They were in a cute display in the breezeway between the two front doors of the store. I grabbed two, and we kept shopping.
While we were checking out, Mom and I noticed the plastic crates we'd grabbed were less than perfect. I took them out the door (no, the alarm didn't go off) and went to exchange them. I set my two crates on the display and began searching for unbroken ones. Since this was in the entryway, the automatic door opened and closed every time I moved. Kind of annoying, but not really a big deal except for the fact that one of the crates had been displaced. When the door opened, it caught the corner of the crate. When it closed, it pushed the crate further out of place. Of course, that one misbehaving crate hit the other crates in the display. Since I kept moving, the door kept opening and closing, and the crates kept flying all over the entryway. The entire display tumbled onto the floor creating a fire hazard and almost hitting me in the face.
I wasn't really sure what to do. I couldn't stop the display from toppling over just like I couldn't stop the door from opening. I stood there with my arms in the air, triggering the motion sensor yet again.
I looked through the window to my mom and the cashier, both of whom had stopped what they were doing to search out the cause of this racket. "And we're letting her go to school 900 miles away," I heard Mom say.
I lost a war with a plastic crate display. A few war wounds, but I lived to tell the tale. It has been three years and I have still not shown my face in that Bed, Bath, and Beyond again.
<>< Katie
It was the summer after I graduated high school. Mom and I had gone to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to pick up some stuff for my dorm room. Among those items, plastic crates. You know, the ones that serve almost no purpose in real life and shouldn't be found anywhere but in a dorm room. I had three homemade wooden boxes (that leave purple and turquoise paint everywhere they sit) and opted to buy two plastic ones, too. They were in a cute display in the breezeway between the two front doors of the store. I grabbed two, and we kept shopping.
While we were checking out, Mom and I noticed the plastic crates we'd grabbed were less than perfect. I took them out the door (no, the alarm didn't go off) and went to exchange them. I set my two crates on the display and began searching for unbroken ones. Since this was in the entryway, the automatic door opened and closed every time I moved. Kind of annoying, but not really a big deal except for the fact that one of the crates had been displaced. When the door opened, it caught the corner of the crate. When it closed, it pushed the crate further out of place. Of course, that one misbehaving crate hit the other crates in the display. Since I kept moving, the door kept opening and closing, and the crates kept flying all over the entryway. The entire display tumbled onto the floor creating a fire hazard and almost hitting me in the face.
I wasn't really sure what to do. I couldn't stop the display from toppling over just like I couldn't stop the door from opening. I stood there with my arms in the air, triggering the motion sensor yet again.
I looked through the window to my mom and the cashier, both of whom had stopped what they were doing to search out the cause of this racket. "And we're letting her go to school 900 miles away," I heard Mom say.
I lost a war with a plastic crate display. A few war wounds, but I lived to tell the tale. It has been three years and I have still not shown my face in that Bed, Bath, and Beyond again.
<>< Katie
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Clothing
"I'm joining a nudist colony," I announced to my mother this afternoon.
"Um... Ok. Why?"
I spent two hours traveling through every clothing store in the mall, and I came home with four books and a new contacts perscription. Everything I tried on at had something wrong with it: This shirt makes me think of Grandpa, what's with the bows?, it looks like a checkerboard, if I wanted jeans with holes in them I'd wear the ones I have, yeah that's nice but move and boom FREE SHOW!... On and on and on for two hours.
Dressing modestly in today's world is a challenge. To put it lightly. Sure, there's always the popular potato sack, but really how can one run in a potato sack?
"Um... Ok. Why?"
I spent two hours traveling through every clothing store in the mall, and I came home with four books and a new contacts perscription. Everything I tried on at had something wrong with it: This shirt makes me think of Grandpa, what's with the bows?, it looks like a checkerboard, if I wanted jeans with holes in them I'd wear the ones I have, yeah that's nice but move and boom FREE SHOW!... On and on and on for two hours.
Dressing modestly in today's world is a challenge. To put it lightly. Sure, there's always the popular potato sack, but really how can one run in a potato sack?
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Grr!
I couple of days ago I found this really cool website with writing prompts. Call me a nerd, I know... I haven't entirely decided what to do with it yet so I haven't closed it. Every time when I log online, it opens up and gives me a new prompt.
Today's:
"People that irritate me..."
I prefer:
People irritate me.
I realized today that it's not the shopping that I hate, it's the people I run into while I'm shopping. The parents who walk off as their screaming young child struggles to step onto the elevator. The woman who demands a refund because the price she paid was ridiculous. I really don't mean to sound racist, but I feel like nobody speaks English anymore, either.
Then there's my name. Katie. You have no idea how popular it is until it's your name. Everywhere I go I get yelled at because some little kid--who just happens to share my name--is disobeying her parents. I can't go out in public without getting yelled at! It drives me nuts.
OK, so I'm not allowed to blog about shopping anymore because they are never possitive blogs... This was today's rant. I promise, I'll try and make more deep connections, less ranting. I have a sixteen hour drive coming up, that should be plenty of time for God to say something inspiring. :-)
<>< Katie
"Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Philippians 4:8(RSV)
Today's:
"People that irritate me..."
I prefer:
People irritate me.
I realized today that it's not the shopping that I hate, it's the people I run into while I'm shopping. The parents who walk off as their screaming young child struggles to step onto the elevator. The woman who demands a refund because the price she paid was ridiculous. I really don't mean to sound racist, but I feel like nobody speaks English anymore, either.
Then there's my name. Katie. You have no idea how popular it is until it's your name. Everywhere I go I get yelled at because some little kid--who just happens to share my name--is disobeying her parents. I can't go out in public without getting yelled at! It drives me nuts.
OK, so I'm not allowed to blog about shopping anymore because they are never possitive blogs... This was today's rant. I promise, I'll try and make more deep connections, less ranting. I have a sixteen hour drive coming up, that should be plenty of time for God to say something inspiring. :-)
<>< Katie
"Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Philippians 4:8(RSV)
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Welcome to my Nightmare
I went shopping today. I haven't done laundry in a month and my clothes still need to be pushed down in order for the drawers to close completely. I need new clothes like I need a hole in the head. There were a few things I needed like a new Pastor Mike swimsuit (another story for another day) and a pair of sandals, but really I didn't need to be at the store. It turned out to be a really (really) comical mother-daughter bonding time that I'm grateful for but shopping today hurt, too.
I'm in the fitting room going through my normal mental rant about how they don't make clothes for people. Sure, it looks great on the manikin, but come on. How am I supposed to honor God with clothes like this? That's not very flattering, but look, two of me could fit in the next size up. This isn't working! I literally tried on ten pair of shorts and none of them fit. Talk about depressing! All of the sudden, from a neighboring fitting room I hear a girl (probably in her early teens maybe) screamed,
"NOTHING FITS!"
Amen, Sista I said in my head (ok, not quite, but pretty close).
"I HATE THIS STORE!" Either there were tears streaming down this poor girls face or she's a really good actress. I heard her friends laughing in another dressing room. "YOU GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING EVER FITS!"
"Welcome to the story of my life," I wanted to say aloud.
This girl broke my heart. Maybe it was that she was experiencing the same problem I was. I don't know how many articles of clothing she tried on. I don't know why they don't fit. I do know she was frustrated to the point of tears. Chances are, she's not going to go home and forget about her experience in the fitting room today. Today could be the day she stops eating because she thinks she's too fat. If clothes were made for real people, maybe we wouldn't have so many young girls suffering from anorexia and bulimia. Just a thought.
<>< Katie
"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body." 1 Corinthians 6:19-20
I'm in the fitting room going through my normal mental rant about how they don't make clothes for people. Sure, it looks great on the manikin, but come on. How am I supposed to honor God with clothes like this? That's not very flattering, but look, two of me could fit in the next size up. This isn't working! I literally tried on ten pair of shorts and none of them fit. Talk about depressing! All of the sudden, from a neighboring fitting room I hear a girl (probably in her early teens maybe) screamed,
"NOTHING FITS!"
Amen, Sista I said in my head (ok, not quite, but pretty close).
"I HATE THIS STORE!" Either there were tears streaming down this poor girls face or she's a really good actress. I heard her friends laughing in another dressing room. "YOU GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING EVER FITS!"
"Welcome to the story of my life," I wanted to say aloud.
This girl broke my heart. Maybe it was that she was experiencing the same problem I was. I don't know how many articles of clothing she tried on. I don't know why they don't fit. I do know she was frustrated to the point of tears. Chances are, she's not going to go home and forget about her experience in the fitting room today. Today could be the day she stops eating because she thinks she's too fat. If clothes were made for real people, maybe we wouldn't have so many young girls suffering from anorexia and bulimia. Just a thought.
<>< Katie
"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body." 1 Corinthians 6:19-20
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