Showing posts with label song. Show all posts
Showing posts with label song. Show all posts

Saturday, September 17, 2011

God of THIS City

A few years ago, my university sent a mission team to San Diego, California.  In their post-trip sharing they said they sang and prayed the song, "God of This City" over San Diego.  Ever since then, that song has been reserved in my head for that city.

Then it was everywhere.

I heard it in the car, at home, and in concerts.  I couldn't escape it, and it always made me think of the San Diego mission team.

Then the pastor at my Baptist church announced that we would be beginning a sermon series focusing on reaching those in our immediate community.  For the next six weeks, we would sing and pray "God of This City" over our city every week in worship.

Beautiful in theory, but the song was becoming overplayed and meaningless.  To me.

Fast forward a few months.  I'm on my way home from a wonderful coffee talk during which we mulled over and discussed some quite serious problems in my Lutheran church.

As I pull into the garage, I tune in to the song on the radio.

"God of This City" by Chris Tomlin

You're the God of this City.
You're the King of these people.
You're the Lord of this nation.
You are.

You're the Light in this darkness.
You're the Hope to the hopeless.
You're the Peace to the restless.
You are.

There is no one like our God.
There is no one like our God.

For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city.
Greater thing have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this city.

Greater things have yet to come,
and greater things are still to be done in this city
Greater things have yet to come,
And greater things are still to be done here

There is no one like our God.
There is no one like You, God.

Will you take a minute right now and pray this over my church? My city? Your church? Your city?

Thanks!

Greater things have yet to come and greater things are still to be done here. I believe that.

<>< Katie

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

A Run in the Park

My family and I used to go to Lifest for the bands.  Hours were spent circling artist names in the program and making a strategic plan of where we needed to be and when.  Unfortunately for me, long gone are the years when I spent five days running from stage to stage, from mosh pit to lawn chair, from merch table to meet and greet line.

This past opening night of Lifest we got caught in the madness where the one-lane road through the park became a parking lot.  The only show I wanted to see all evening was to start in four minutes.  So still in the holding pattern at the park's entrance, I abandoned my family and our minivan.  I began to walk with a purpose towards a party with a purpose.  It took me fifteen minutes to walk from the park entrance to the fairgrounds entrance (in case you ever need to know).

Fifteen minutes is long time to repeatedly glance at your watch and realize you're missing the only show you wanted to see that day.  It's also a long time to question if you're approaching with the right heart.

Even if I miss my show, will tonight still be worth it?  Am I willing to hear from the Lord through a speaker I've never heard of, a band whose CD I have never purchased?  Am I here for an artist, a speaker, or am I here for the Lord?

Valid questions to take my mind off of the ticking minutes.

A fifteen minute jog through the park, thirteen minutes in line to exchange my ticket for a wristband, and I finally made it to the Grandstand as Peder Eide was wrapping up "Yes, Lord" and beginning a new song, "We are Not Orphans."  A new, new song.  So new the CD it's on won't be released until July 15th.  Peder has personally told me about this song twice, but I've been waiting a year to hear it.

A year.  No embellishing.

I thought I was late.  Twenty-three minutes late, to be exact.  Twenty-three minutes late to a forty minute show.

I wasn't.  I was right on time.  Sure, I missed the first twenty-three minutes that I would have thoroughly enjoyed, but I was right on time to hear the song I had been anxiously awaiting.

It was a beautiful moment.

"I haven't forgotten.  Welcome to Lifest.  We've been waiting for you," the Lord whispered to me.

It might have taken twenty-three minutes of anxiety, but once again I could honestly proclaim, "God, I'm all in.  I'm here for You.  Not the artists, not the speakers, not the expo center, not the camaraderie.  I'm here for YOU!

What a wonderful feeling that is!

When's the last time you spent fifteen minutes running through a (figurative) park adjusting the focus of your heart?  When's the last time you let your Abba Father sing over you and remind you of His goodness?  He's waiting.

"For the Lord your God is living among you.
He is a mighty savior.
He will take delight in you with gladness.
With his love, he will calm all your fears.
He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."
Zephaniah 3:17 NLT

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Jesus Does the Dishes

On Saturday I was doing my devotion when I ran across this verse,
"Blind Pharisee!  First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside will be clean." (Matthew 23:26)
That's our Savior who's not making much sense.  Big surprise, right?

I thought about the passage briefly before concluding I will continue to wash both the inside and the outside of my dishes.

They are really talking about dishes.  Or are they?

The previous verse says,

"You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence" (Matthew 23:25b).
What if they aren't really talking about dishes?  What if Jesus is calling us to be the cup and the dish?

All too often we try to change our outwards appearance.  Put on some make-up.  Pick a different shirt.  Act more kindly to that person.  Serve this person.  Surely that makes us a better Christian, right?

According to what Jesus said right here, wrong.

We can do all of the "nice things" on the outside and make us look like good Christians but until our heart is changed it's all futile.  I do not believing having your heart changed is a one-time deal.  Boom you're done and you know everything there is to know.  No.

Having your heart changed is a lifetime process.  Rid yourself of some greed here.  Pride there.  Put in some joy take out some hatred.  A process.  Just like washing dishes.  And just like washing dishes, as soon as you think you're done, you find one more.  One more problem area that needs to be dealt with.  One more outburst of anger you weren't expecting.  One more nudge from Christ saying, "Hey, you forgot about this.  That's not of me."

What I believe Jesus is saying in the verse is if He changes your heart, if He cleans your inside, your outsides will follow.  Change in the inside, the desire, and the outside, the action, will change too.

It makes me think of the song, "Change me from the inside out, Lord."

Feel free to join me in making this your prayer for today.

Change me from the inside out, Lord.

<>< Katie

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Debated Words

My suitemates and I have taken a stab at songwriting.  Most of us are either musically inclined or wordsmiths.  It's a great combination.

A few days ago, Jennifer had a beautiful concept for a song and ideas on what she wanted to proclaim in the verses, so we tried to write it.

We talked it out.  We free wrote.  We prayed.  We played with chords.  We were having a hard time.  Every word was deliberate and discussed.

Two hours later, we had a grand total of twenty-two words.

We were pleased yet simultaneously, I was little frustrated that it was taking so long.  Let's be honest: I'm a bit verbose.  Yes?  If I spent two-solid hours writing I would hope to have at least 700 words.  But they would not be as planned as these twenty-two words were.  They would be much less deliberate.  I would not debate them like we did those song lyrics.  They are not repeated as frequently as a song, even one only six of us know.

It got me thinking about the words that come out of my mouth.  Am I flippant in what I say or are they well-chosen?  Does each sentence run through a filter before it runs off my tongue?  Am I careful is what I say and how I say it?

The truthful answer is no.  But I should be.

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14

<>< Katie

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Never Alone

She sat on the futon with both of her legs curled underneath her.  The purple polar fleece blanket draped over her held the textbook she wasn't reading.  Just out of reach was her chocolate milk in a glass made of glass.  On the table in front of her sat the computer with broken internet, Nalgene with one last shluck of iodized lake water, and her Writer's Notebook

The music was playing louder than necessary but she wasn't listening until the familiar chords sounded once again.  She'd already heard that song once that day well as several times in the last week.  It seemed to be appearing everywhere as if it were haunting her.  Perhaps there was something in it she desperately needed to hear.

"Never Alone" by BarlowGirl

I waited for You, today
But You didn't show.
No, no, no.
I needed You, today,
so where did You go?

You told me to call.
Said You'd be here.
And though I haven't seen You,
are You still there?

I cry out with no reply,
and I can't feel You by my side,
so I'll hold tight to what I know:
You're here,
and I'm never alone.

And though I cannot see You,
and I can't explain why.
Such a deep, deep reassurance
You've placed in my life.
Oh, oh.
We cannot separate.
You're part of me.
And though You're invisible
I'll trust the unseen.

I cry out with no reply,
and I can't feel You by my side, so
I'll hold tight to what I know:
You're here,
and I'm never alone.

We cannot separate.
You're part of me.
And though You're invisible
I'll trust the unseen.

As she listens, she remembers learning to sign the song.  The corresponding facial expressions of desperation and confusion seemed to come so easily.  Now they seem easier.  What was once a loud proclamation of, "I'll hold tight to what I know: You're here, and I'm never alone" is now whispered gently.  Yet it still holds true.  Even when it is difficult to say, it holds true!

Her right hand flies through the air in a reverse candy cane.  The left meets in an imaginary bouquet of flowers and pulsates for emphasis.
GOD TRUST +

"God I trust You," she says.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Tear down the walls. Let everything fall

I don't like alarm clocks.  I still remember flying out of my skin the first night I shared a room with Amber when her alarm clock when off in the morning.  It seemed to take me forever to calm down and realize it was NOT the fire alarm.  Over the year it got better, but every morning she got up first, I got an unwelcome jolt.

My own alarm clock is music.  I plug my iPod in, put it on shuffle, and wait to see what God sends me in the morning when the alarm goes off.  Today the first song I heard was "Break Through" by Peder Eide.  As I was in bed trying to convince myself to pull my lazy head off of the pillow and sit up, the lyrics that I've heard a million times hit me in a new way.  I decided to make this my prayer for today.  Feel free to do the same.

"Break Through"
By Peder Eide

Sing all the songs
and read all about You.
I know right from wrong.
What does it amount to
if my life doesn't show
how much I love You?

I need You to break through.
Tear down the walls;
let everything fall.
'Cause I want to praise You.
Nothing between You and me.
I need you to break through.

I know there is more
I've yet to discover.
So many things
You want to uncover.
I've been scratching the surface;
I want to go deeper.

I need you to break through.
Tear down the walls;
let everything fall
'Cause I wanna praise You.
Nothing between You and me.
I need You to break through.

Break through the pride.
Break through the shame.
I've had enough of staying the same.
Break through the fear.
Open the gates,
I'm getting tired of playing it safe.

I need You to break through.
Tear down the walls;
let everything fall.
'Cause I wanna praise You.
Nothing between You and me.

I need you to break through.
Tear down the walls;
let everything fall.
'Cause I wanna praise You
Nothing between You and me.
I need You to break through.
Need You to break through.
Break through!

Monday, July 19, 2010

Dance for Joy

I think the thing I say to God most frequently is a sarcastic, "Wow, You're funny."  He's got perfect timing and sometimes it just makes me shake my head.

If you've ever seen Peder Eide in concert, you know that at some point he plays a "hymn on Mountain Dew" that is an upbeat arrangement of "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee."  Towards the end of the song, the invisible band vamps while Peder talks about how if what we're singing is true and we really have the joy of the Lord we don't just uses our voices, we use everything we have.  He tells the audience to put their arms around their sweaty neighbors, complete strangers that are now family.  Then everyone jumps.  Without letting go of each other.

Then, he tells us we can let go.  He moves on to talk about how dance is worship.  There's no right or wrong way to dance for joy.  He says, "David danced before the Lord.  He was almost naked, but we're going to skip that part."

I always play my iPod on shuffle.  Always.  I have over 3,300 songs on it; it's the only way I get to hear all of them.  The other morning, I was getting dressed when "Joyful, Joyful" came on.  Peder's version.  I stopped and danced.

Then I doubled over in laughter.  There I was, just like David, almost naked and dancing before the Lord.

Try it sometime.  It's fun.  Dance before the Lord.  Get the rest of your family to join you, too!

Note: if you are in the presence of others and you are not married to said others, please put some clothes on.  Thanks.

<>< Katie

Friday, June 11, 2010

One Year Ago Today

I don't think I'll ever forget my last night in Costa Rica.  I lived there for a month taking Spanish classes and living with a tico family.  My final night, a big group of us went out to dinner.  My host parents, my host aunt  and family, one of my classmates, and myself.  We went to a restaurant that serves all of the food on one plate and you kind of grab the food and eat it with your fingers.  Yeah, not a germ-o-phobe's favorite restaurant.  Top if off with the fact that I felt like crap and it was not a pleasant night.  (I blame the chloroquine...next time I might take my chances with malaria).  I tried to eat but really had no appetite.  To distract myself from the nausea on the ride back, I started making a mental list of all of the memories/ stories/ things I'd learned that I wanted to share with Sra. Wright, my high school Spanish teacher.  Learning a language is one of those things you remember learning every detail, at least for me.  There were so many things I wanted to talk to her about, so I decided I was going to make a list on the plane ride back.

When made it home safely (that's actually a big surprise), and I stood in the family room contemplating checking my email one last night or waiting until I got back to the States.  I decided to go for it.  It'd be quick and then I'd go to bed and pray I was feeling better in the morning.  Well, it wasn't as quick as I had wanted it to be.  In fact, I learned that on the plane I'd be writing a different letter to Sra. Wright.  One she would never receive.  She'd passed away two days earlier.

The plane ride back was a roller coaster.  Sitting behind me on the plane was not just a student from my high school but someone that graduated with me... took Spanish with me.  I asked him if he'd heard and he said, "Yeah, it's a bummer."  A woman dies and you say a bummer?  That's worse than when I told a professor I was in a car accident on a way to her event and she said bummer.

I regretted not visiting Sra. Wright all of those times I'd visited my Alma Mater.  She'd asked about me, but I never made it down to see her.  I regretted not going in the one week I was home before leaving for Costa Rica.  (Again, I blame the chloroquine... nine weeks of nasty pink pills meant nine weeks of feeling nasty).  It helped me to know she hadn't been at school that day, but it didn't help much.  I regretted not emailing her to tell her I was still using my Spanish and going to Costa Rica to learn more.  I regretted not thanking her for taking the time to teach me.  I regretted not being able to look her in the eye the last time we spoke.  Her jaundice grossed me out.  I'd known she was sick, but I never knew she was that sick.  The word "cancer" was never shared, at least not with me.

I'll be honest, she was never my favorite teacher.  I was disappointed when I saw her name on my schedule for the fourth consecutive year.  In fact, there were many days I'd "Go to my locker" and get distracted by friends who had a free period; at least once a week I'd hear, "Katie, go back to Spanish."  However, even the teachers we don't always appreciate leave lasting impacts on our lives, especially when you see them every day for four years.

Earlier this week, my sister Christina asked me to explain the difference between "por" and "para."  I never get those two right, but I explained it to her the same way Sra. Wright explained it to me countless times.  In fact, one day in class the example we were doing was a post card written to a teacher years after Spanish class thanking the teacher for teaching the difference between por and para.  Sra Wright kind of laughed, "Please don't ever send me a post card thanking me for teaching you the difference between por and paraPor and para can't be taught... they must just be learned."  That didn't stop her from trying.

The same idea didn't stop her from trying to teach us the difference between "ser" and "estar" either. Remembering this brought tears to my eyes.  She said, "Estar is used with changing things.  The soup is hot- estar.  Today I'm sad- estar.  The one I don't really understand is death.  To me, death isn't a temporary thing but the Spanish use estar."

Death isn't a temporary thing.  Life is the temporary thing.  How do we spend it?  Running a million miles an hour too busy to notice the little moments or investing in children and teaching them something they have the capabilities to use for the rest of their life?  Being too stuck up to laugh at yourself or stopping class to remark about the "delightful aroma" of fart in the room before leaving and locking your students in it?  Do you put up with their "Senora, how do you say (insert some super random word here like "lipgloss" or "headphones" or "@")" or do you cut off their fun?

Thank you, Sra. Wright, for taking the time to teach us the difference between "por" and "para" but, more importantly, thank you for taking the time to invest in us.  To show us we can do it even when we don't think it's possible.  In the words of the Celine Dion song sung at Sra. Wright's funeral, "You gave me wings and I could fly/ you touched my hand I could touch the sky/ I lost my faith you gave it back to me/ you said no star was out of reach... you saw the best there was in me..."

Muchas gracias.

<>< Katie

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Happy birthday, Daddio

"Lunch? Noon. Love, Dad."

That's all the email read.  Luckily, I knew lunch our usual lunch location: the family pub on the lake.  This particular fall day, I arrived first.  I got a table but rather than shivering at the sight of the white caps, I flagged down the waitress.  I put in our drinks order, a root beer for me and an iced tea for Dad.  I then confided in her and shared a secret.

"It's his birthday," I whispered, pointing to the seat where my father would sit at some point.  She nodded and disappeared.

"You beat me here!  First time in your life," Dad teased about my punctuality.  I'm never later than a minute or two, but our restaurant is a few blocks from his office and fifteen minutes from our house.  Combine that with the fact that I was a college student home on fall break who'd rather be in bed at noon and you tell me who's going to arrive first.

We enjoyed our meal and as we finished up, I heard the maracas in the kitchen.  I bit my lip as to not spill my own beans.  I didn't think I was successful, but I still enjoyed the look on Dad's face when they serenaded him and placed an ice cream dessert in front of him.  I "got him" and got a good laugh.

As we were walking out we walked past his former secretary who happened to be having lunch with some friends.  "Now wait a second.  Your birthday's in June," she puzzled with a smile.  It was October.  A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

Dad is notorious for taking his "four girls" (my two sisters, my mom, and me) out for our birthdays, sneaking around the restaurant, and surprising us with a birthday serenade and free cake.  We all hate it.  We all love it.  As we've gotten wiser, so has Dad.  Since he's not allowed to leave the table during dinner, he's hired accomplices.  We know what restaurants will participate in this tomfoolery, and we've been known to sing ourselves in those that don't.  We've decided to bypass this mortifying tradition and enjoy a peaceful birthday dinner at home instead.  My birthday's in early August, and I make sure we eat every meal at home from late July until mid August.  You just never know when it's going to be your birthday TODAY!

Sure, we've turned it around on him a time or two.  Like when we went out on Christina's birthday but told the waitress it was Dad's birthday instead.  Or the time we made him wear the menu on his head while they serenaded Mom.  But that's what's go great about the October celebration: it was just a taste of his own medicine and he had no idea it was coming.  Not going to lie, I was pretty proud of myself and I did wish the rest of the family could have been there to see it.  Oh, well.  Maybe tonight we'll go out for lemon marang pie.

Happy birthday, Freddy Buttless.  I love you more than the grains of sand all mushed together.  Love, Sandi Beech.

<>< Katie

Monday, April 19, 2010

Blessed Be Your Name

I spent all weekend helping lead a youth retreat weekend.  On Saturday afternoon we did a service project and gardened for a few elderly church members.  Upon returning to the church, we each took some quiet time to reflect and pray.  As that kind of wrapped up, people seemed to be gathering in the grass on the hill and it became a spontaneous worship song session.  One of the songs we sang was "Blessed Be Your Name."  As we went through the familiar verses and chorus, I pondered how many times I'd sung that song.  On campus, in church, in my car, in Spanish in Guatemala, in ASL, with 35,000 teens, by myself, with a small group around a campfire... the list goes on and on.  Every summer for almost the last ten years my family has gone to an outdoor Christian music festival.  In the last few years, it seems every artist sings "Blessed Be Your Name."  I've sung with the hot July sun beating down on me.  I've sung it as refreshing night rain pelts my face.  I've sung it a lot.  You'd think I'd know the verses in the right order...

On May 21, 2008, singer/songwriter Steven Curtis Chapman's youngest daughter died tragically at age 5 after being accidently hit by a car in the family's driveway.  On July 11 of the same year SCC returned to the stage for the first time since the accident and earned a standing ovation prior to playing a note.  He softly explained after such a tragedy there was one song that kept running through his head and he began to sing "Blessed Be Your Name."  I highly doubt there was a dry eye in the entire audience.  With heavy hearts and sore feet we extended our arms to the heavens and worshipped our precious Holy Father while He painted us a beautiful sunset in the Midwestern sky.  The lyrics took on a whole new meaning as we proclaimed, "Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me.  When the world's all as it should be, blessed be Your name, on the road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering, blessed be Your name."  If a hurting father could say it, so can we.  If the responsible brother could say it, so can we.  If the sunburned, mud-laden audience can say it, so can we.  Right?

It doesn't mean your pain is gone.  It doesn't mean you need to be happy-go-lucky.  It means God is still God.  It means you'll praise Him in the hard times in addition to the easy times.  In the United States, in foreign countries.  In the sun and in the rain.  From the top of the mountain and the bottom of the valley.  As yourself honestly, no matter what you're going through today, are you willing to say, "Blessed be Your name"?

Blessed be,
<>< Katie

Friday, February 19, 2010

Lost: Thumb (Drive)

You know those songs you haven't heard in five or ten years? The ones that you forgot about? The ones that when they reappear become your favorite all over again? That's where this Relient K song fits into my life. I heard it earlier in the semester when Keith and friends sang it at chapel. I fell in love with it all over again and began singing it almost constantly! I don't have it on a CD and I can't find it online, but I make Andy serenade me every time I see him. Much to Amy's chagrin, he taught me to sing it myself.

"Technically I didn't teach her to sing it. She was singing it already. I just taught her to sing it correctly. Would you rather I let her sing it incorrectly next time?"

Never underestimate my Jesus. You're telling me that there's no hope; I'm tellin' you you're wrong. Never underestimate my Jesus. When the world around you crumbles: He will be strong; He will be strong.

Well, I was very grateful for his teaching me correctly because on Wednesday I lost my thumb drive (jump drive, flash drive, life, pick your term of choice). Like I've already mentioned, I eat computers so it wasn't a big surprise when my beloved blue side kicked walked out of my life. However, that doesn't make it fair or pleasant.

You're telling me that there's no hope; I'm telling you you're wrong.

Right. Hope is not gone. My thumb drive is gone. Along with it the latest drafts of my novel, my completed powerpoint for Monday's class presentation, my resume, my collection of crazy quotes, and I don't want to know what else. Of course, my first instinct was to blog about my catastrophic loss. I couldn't. Thanks, Lent. My life is missing and I can't even use my favorite coping mechanism! Yesterday was not a pleasant day.

Never under estimate my Jesus.

I'm a creature of habit. I use the same bathroom stall, I aim for the same computer in the lab, I sit in the same section of caf, so retracing my steps isn't hard. Especially since I can narrow it down to two hours from when I had it last to when I noticed it was missing. Retracing my steps was easy: computer lab (yes, I ejected it), copy room, three different professors' offices, bathroom, and the caf. That's it. The professors haven't seen it, the secretaries haven't seen it, the police haven't seen it, the caf woman hasn't seen it. No one has seen it. It's vanished into the dark abyss!

"Maybe you flushed it," Elizabeth suggested. That doesn't help.

When the world around you crumbles: He will be strong; He will be strong.

"CARL! Why are his hands gone?!" Screamed the llama in the disturbing video Andy and Dr. Z showed me on Tuesday. Well, my hands are gone; just my thumb. Drive. Most things I lost can be replaced with an earlier version... except the quotes list. Sure, it's just for fun but gosh can it make me laugh. I could use a laugh right now.

<>< Katie

PS: If you see a blue, rubbery thumb drive that says, "Katie" when you plug it in: it's mine. Yes, the one that almost never leaves my computer

Friday, January 29, 2010

Falling Snow

Earlier this week, we sang a song by Chris Tomlin entitled, "You came like a winter snow."

It talks about how Jesus could have come to this earth like a hurricane, like a flood, like a burning bush... But He didn't. Instead He came to earth like a peaceful, calm winter snow.

When I first heard this song, I didn't completely agree with it. I don't think winter snow is calm and peaceful. Honestly, you say "falling snow" I think blizzard. I think wind howling through the fireplace. I think thunder snow and icy madness.

Today when I walked out of the prayer room officially bringing my Celebration Week to an end there was snow falling gently to the ground. Calm and peaceful.

Perhaps I was wrong. Winter snow can be peaceful and calm it's just not normally the case. God can be presented as a baby but that isn't normally the case. Yet it happened. He came to earth like today's falling snow.

<>< Katie

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Prayer

Last night I went to practice expecting to be learning a new song. Well, Queen Emily is drained right now, so she didn't have time to write a new song. Instead, the thirty of us girls spend the next hour drafting signs for "Let the Waters Rise" by Mikechair.

It was a song I hadn't heard before but I do enjoy it. These are the lyrics we were trying to convey:

Don’t know where to begin
It's like my world's caving in
And I try but I can't control my fear
Where do I go from here

Sometimes it's so hard to pray
When You feel so far away
but I am willing to go where You want me to
God I Trust You

There's a raging sea
Right in front of me
Wants to pull me in
Bring me to my knees

So let the waters rise
If You want them to
I will follow You
I will follow You

I will swim in the deep
Cuz you’ll be next to me
You’re in the eye of the storm and the calm of the sea
Your never out of reach

God You know where I’ve been
And You were there with me then
You were faithful before You’ll be faithful again
I’m holding Your hand

There's a raging sea
Right in front of me
Wants to pull me in
Bring me to my knees

God Your love is enough
You will pull me through
I’m holding onto You
God Your love is enough
I will follow You
I will follow You

The trick with ASL that it's not translated verbatim from English to sign. There is a lot of room for interpretation and with these songs we account for what God is saying to us through those lyrics at that very moment. This means that our gloss (ASL words) were all over the board. It seems each group focused in on a different stanza of the song, each group had a different line that really spoke to them. While I firmly believe that 30 girls is too many to be writing any one thing, it was very interesting to hear the different ideas.

As our hour drew to a close, the Queen asked for prayer. She asked if anyone else had prayer requests and I was shocked as hands flew up all over the room. It's the second week of the semester who on earth has that many prayer requests already? I hate to imply that some prayer requests are more important than others because God hears them all, but these weren't "I'm stressed" or "I want it to snow" prayer requests. These were heart-wrenching requests that will bring even the strongest of people to their knees. Requests like, "tuition was due last week and I haven't payed yet because my dad lost his job," "I was in the ER yesterday and might need heart surgery," "my uncle was in Haiti when the earthquake happened," "my mom's got a bad disease and there's nothing they can do," and "I can't tell you anything but just saying the word 'unspoken' makes me cry." Before we prayed, there were at least four different people crying and by the time we were done, I don't know if there was a dry eye in the mirror room.


For the last hour we'd spend laughing and pouring our hearts into a song. It's no wonder we all focused on different things because different things are plaguing our lives right now. Go read the lyrics again.

"Don’t know where to begin/It's like my world's caving in/And I try but I can't control my fear/Where do I go from here/Sometimes it's so hard to pray /When You feel so far away/ but I am willing to go where/ You want me to /God I Trust You /There's a raging sea Right in front of me /Wants to pull me in /Bring me to my knees /So let the waters rise /If You want them to/ I will follow You /I will swim in the deep /Cuz you’ll be next to me /You’re in the eye of the storm and the calm of the sea /Your never out of reach /God You know where I’ve been/ And You were there with me then /You were faithful before /You’ll be faithful again/ I’m holding Your hand."


Ladies and gentlemen, our family of faith is hurting. Family prayers for each other. Will you join us in prayer? Not just for these girls that are so important to me but for our family all around the world.
Let me know how I can prayer for you more specifically.

Con Amor,

<>< Katie

Friday, June 26, 2009

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

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

No Turning Back

I know. Today is Brit's birthday, so she should get a blog post... well, I'm not a very good friend and I'm not following these birthdays very well...
It's not my fault! God told me something to post today.

Today in worship we finished the night with a song that I'd never heard before. Part of it went:
Though none go with me,
Still I will Follow.
No turning back.
No turning back.

How hard is that? Going against the grain. Taking the road not travelled. Keeping on the straight and narrow.

Though none go with me, still I will Follow. No turning back. No turning back.

We have made living for God our goal, and we must follow. There is no turning back. Even though sometimes we go without any earthly help, we go with God and God alone. It's hard. Travelling alone. Yet with God we are never alone.

Though none go with me/ still I will Follow/ No turning back/ No turning back

<>< Katie

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Musical Hallucination

God likes to speak to me through music. I've awful at learning music, but I love to learn from music. I am almost always having a musical hallucination. It's only fitting since my twin brother, Nathaniel, is a worship leader. Well, tonight, Nathaniel was leading worship and for some reason the PowerPoints did not match what he was singing (this is actually a frequent occurrence, for those who've worshiped with Nathaniel). This time the PowerPoints were wrong, not him. So he told us to just listen (actually, I heard him say, "Sing with me now" when there were no words... I later learned he'd said, "I'll sing now."

There we are, singing a popular worship song, and the audience participation is flopping because the PowerPoint is messed up. How often do we sing that song? Every week? Every two weeks? Either way, if we sing along every word on a regular basis when the PowerPoint is up, yet we can't sing it at all when the PowerPoint is missing, how much attention are we really playing? Are we so focused on our singing to God that we're missing what we're actually saying to Him? One thing I'm trying to do lately, is actually read the words you're singing. There are a lot of lines that are suddenly clarified. There are a lot of lines that are really hard to sing, lyrically. Give it a try this week.

In Christ,
<>< Katie

Friday, March 27, 2009

Clue Number One

On March 21, my friend Jonathan celebrated his birthday. Even though it's late, this still calls for a clever Jonathan story... that requires a lot of thought. Just kidding. :-)

While stories like the orange construction cone and "famous last words" will always have a special place in my heart, I decided on a different story. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Jonathan was one of the people who went on my mission trip to Mississippi several years ago. Our entire group (and several hundred of our closest friends) slept in the church sanctuary. Jonathan and his dad each pulled two pews together and formed beds for themselves. My mom and I slept on an air mattress next to them. One night, I was in bed, and I rolled over to see six-foot Jonathan STANDING in bed trying to get out of the "house" (that's what we called the area where the 15 of us were sleeping...). Unfortunately we were packed in like sardines in a can, so the only way out was to step on someone's head or to walk across the pews.

Since I'm the silliest at night (being with Mom didn't help, of course), I couldn't resist the urge to voice my comment regarding the situation.
"You're STANDING on God's couch!"

I wanted to pull the "teacher card" and be like "Do you stand on your own couch at home? Then don't stand on God's couch either." Actually, I found the whole situation hilarious. And "You're standing on God's couch" is one of those lines that will always make me laugh.

In writing that, I thought of another funny story...

Jonathan and I were in his living room writing a song. There's a huge window in the front of his house and the weather was overcast. His mom came in and said,
"Dad just called and thought we should know we're in a tornado watch."
"Ok. Let us know if it becomes tornado warning," Jonathan responded and we went back to song-writing.
Tornado watch? No big deal.
Tornado warning. Good to know.

<>< Katie

Saturday, August 16, 2008

It's not about me

A few days ago I wrote about the song "How Great is Our God" and how whenever we sing it at church it makes my heart smile. Today we had an outdoor student-led worship event and (since it's a popular song) we sang "How Great is Our God." When I read the song list and saw it on there I had mixed feelings. It makes me happy to sing it but I feel like it's my "home church song" and shouldn't be sung elsewhere.

Eventually we got to "How Great is Our God" and the leader put it in a key right out of my range. Some songs I sing high, some songs I sing low. I prefer to sing high, but I can do both but I can't do the middle. Don't ask me to explain it any better than that because I can't. I know I have the approximate range of the treble clef, but somehow I seem to have this gray-area problem. I don't know but it's annoying.

Anyway, so I was really struggling through "How Great is Our God" and I felt so bad for the people sitting around me because of course I didn't think to sing quietly. Quiet? What's that? I'm singing for God, and He doesn't care.

CLICK! I light bulb in my brain went off as if God said,
"Katie, this isn't about you. It's about Me. I don't care how, where, or when you sing I just care what you're singing about. Why are you trying to please everyone else? Remember why you're singing."

We moved on to the next song and this one I could actually sing. I was sitting on the cement hugging my knees with my eyes closed. All of the sudden I heard this noise next to me and realized everyone in front of me and on my right was standing. Of course, as an instant reaction, I stood up as well. As soon as I hit full height I regreted it. God didn't need a real tree branch to whack me upside the head. There He was again,

"Why does it matter what they're doing? You said you didn't want to be influenced by others. Why are you standing? You're standing because they're standing. I thought you didn't care what others thought of you? Don't be shaped by this world; be your own person. Katie, I created you to be different. You aren't going to blend in with those around you no matter how hard you try. Stop trying and let Me do My work."

Ouch.

In Christ,
<>< Katie

"I cry out to God Most High, to God, who fulfills His purpose for me. " Psalm 57:2

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

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Amazing Love

Six consecutive days and the daily blogging has come to an end. I'm terribly sorry, but I was only home for a grand total of nine hours yesterday (8.5 of them being before 8:30 in the morning). It's ok; it was a fun day!

There's a worship song entitled "Amazing Love" that almost everyone has sung at some point in time. I grew up singing it and don't even know who wrote it. Part of the song goes, "I'm forgiven because You were forsaken. I'm accepted, You were condemned. I'm alive and well, Your spirit is within me because You died and rose again."

I'm forgiven. Check. You were forsaken. Check. I'm accepted. Uncheck.

It's a great song, and I hear it all the time, but sometimes I feel bad singing it. Sometimes I feel like I'm lying to God. Those words, "I am accepted" don't roll off this tongue very well. I always hesitate because there are many days when I don't feel accepted. Many days when I'm picked on, laughed at, and rejected. Singing "I'm accepted" seems untrue.

The next line always catches me, "You were condemned." Maybe I'm not every one's favorite person (Maybe that's for good reason), but I have no been condemned. I haven't had my life threatened. I haven't been forced to die on a wooden cross. Maybe I'm not accepted, but I'm definitely not condemned. Thank God for that. :-D Instead, "I'm alive and well". How so? "Your spirit is within me." Why? "You died and rose again."

"I'm forgiven
because You were forsaken.
I'm accepted.
You were condemned.
I'm alive and well
Your spirit lives with me
Because You died and rose again.

"Amazing love, how can it be?
That You, my King, should die for me?
Amazing love, I know it's true,
and it's my joy to honor You in all I do.
In all I do, I'll honor You.
You are my King.
Jesus, You are my King."

Accepted or Rejected by men, accepted by Him. He is my King.

In Christ,
<>< Katie

"Whenever you are arrested and brought to trial, do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit." Mark 13:11