Dear 2012,
This year we welcome your arrival with New York. No waiting in the past to see how your first hour turns out before we take the leap.
But it's ok. I'm ready to welcome you, 2012. I think.
Your sister 2011's report card reads, "Not living up to potential."
She brought the change she promised but not the good kind.
Throughout 2011, the word I kept returning to was: faithful. Would I be faithful to the Lord even when life was less kind? Would God be true to the promise of His faithfulness?
Faithful.
Crossing into your realms, 2012, is an action of fear. An action of trust. A myriad of feelings. A juxtaposition of emotion. I am concerned about what you will bring.
Yet still I dare to hope. You bring with you new opportunities, renewed passions, and uncontainable excitement. While you may not look exactly like I would hope or anticipate, I step into you with confidence.
Hope.
That's what I feel when I look to you, 2012. I hope for many of the same things as last year: a job, a boy, a future. But, above all, I hope for the Lord. I hope to seek and to see Him in the good, the bad, and the ugly. Through tears of joy and tears of pain, I want to gaze into the eyes of my Abba Father.
I hope to dwell in the shelter of the Most High, to rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I hope to be calmed with His love and be delighted with His songs.
I hope. In Him.
And that is enough.
"Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in Him!'" Lamentations 3:21-24 NLT
With hope,
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label songs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label songs. Show all posts
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Sometime just prior to Halloween I heard my first Christmas carol of the season. It flipped a switch inside of me and I was ready for Christmas.
Of course, my gifts weren't purchased and I was pleasantly surprised to feel 40 degree days rather than the 4 below I was expecting, but all through November I waited anxiously for the snow and for the rest of the world to be ready to play Christmas songs.
Yet now it's the night before Christmas, the tree is decorated, the gifts are wrapped, the last of the cookies are in the oven, and the snow gently falling. But I am ready to put on the brakes.
Christmas isn't the most wonderful time of the year when you're unemployed. Rather, it's a brutal reminder of your lack of income, your need to pinch every penny, and your wreath decorating your parents' home rather than your apartment.
Giving up isn't an option, but hope is fleeting. Still I pray "Thy will be done" and "Send me." Still I have a nice collection of rejection letters.
I don't mean to be all doom and gloom, but, honestly, singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" is lying through my two front teeth.
I try not to linger too long in this world of overwhelming pessimism. Life is hard right now, and I'm sick of repeating myself about my failing job search. I'm well beyond ready to talk about something else.
So let's talk about some other people whose world may have also seemed overwhelmingly pessimistic.
Mary. She's pregnant and engaged but her fiancé isn't the father. I bet she got sick of trying to explain that.
Joseph. Someone else impregnated his betrothed. Well, isn't that a sticky situation?
Herod. Some baby is lobbying for his throne (or so he thinks).
The inn keeper. The "No vacancy" sign is illuminated yet still there's a very, very pregnant woman and her man on the front porch.
The sheep, oxen, and other stable animals. Um, hello, there's a baby in their breakfast bowl.
Jesus. God Himself is being shoved into the skin of an infant. Ouch.
The Christmas story is not exactly what the Jews were expecting. Nope, rewind. Christmas was absolutely nothing like what the Jews have been anticipating, the hope-filled stories they've been passing down for generations.
A king was supposed to come to rescue them. Fallen cities would be restored, a temple would be rebuilt, death would be destroyed, and peace truly would exist on earth.
The long-awaited Messiah... a baby. It didn't make sense.
Emmanuel--God with us---is sleeping in a dirty cow trough.
Yup, definitely not the most wonderful time of the year.
I'm so glad Mary, Joseph, Jesus, the shepherds, et al. didn't call it quits, didn't tell God how to do His job. Even in these less than ideal conditions, hope shone brighter than the star illuminating the sky.
Like the shepherds, I am willing to drop everything and sing praises to the One who deserves them.
Like the inn keeper, I offer all of what I have, even if it doesn't seem like much.
Like Joseph, I desire to be obedient even when it looks very different than I expected.
Like Mary, I want to be faithful to what God has asked of me
Like Jesus, I seek to do what needs to be done no matter how uncomfortable, how agonizing it may be.
And, unlike Herod, I am not going to take matters into my own hands.
Maybe the most wonderful time of the year doesn't mean a walking in a winter wonderland.
Maybe it means hope and anticipation for something new. It means finding peace and comfort in God's promise never to abandon us. It means joy even in life's less than comfortable moments. It means resting in the loving arms of the Father.
The most wonderful time of the year is any moment when you remember that Christ truly is Emmanuel, God with us, both now and forevermore.
Amen.
Of course, my gifts weren't purchased and I was pleasantly surprised to feel 40 degree days rather than the 4 below I was expecting, but all through November I waited anxiously for the snow and for the rest of the world to be ready to play Christmas songs.
Yet now it's the night before Christmas, the tree is decorated, the gifts are wrapped, the last of the cookies are in the oven, and the snow gently falling. But I am ready to put on the brakes.
Christmas isn't the most wonderful time of the year when you're unemployed. Rather, it's a brutal reminder of your lack of income, your need to pinch every penny, and your wreath decorating your parents' home rather than your apartment.
Giving up isn't an option, but hope is fleeting. Still I pray "Thy will be done" and "Send me." Still I have a nice collection of rejection letters.
I don't mean to be all doom and gloom, but, honestly, singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" is lying through my two front teeth.
I try not to linger too long in this world of overwhelming pessimism. Life is hard right now, and I'm sick of repeating myself about my failing job search. I'm well beyond ready to talk about something else.
So let's talk about some other people whose world may have also seemed overwhelmingly pessimistic.
Mary. She's pregnant and engaged but her fiancé isn't the father. I bet she got sick of trying to explain that.
Joseph. Someone else impregnated his betrothed. Well, isn't that a sticky situation?
Herod. Some baby is lobbying for his throne (or so he thinks).
The inn keeper. The "No vacancy" sign is illuminated yet still there's a very, very pregnant woman and her man on the front porch.
The sheep, oxen, and other stable animals. Um, hello, there's a baby in their breakfast bowl.
Jesus. God Himself is being shoved into the skin of an infant. Ouch.
The Christmas story is not exactly what the Jews were expecting. Nope, rewind. Christmas was absolutely nothing like what the Jews have been anticipating, the hope-filled stories they've been passing down for generations.
A king was supposed to come to rescue them. Fallen cities would be restored, a temple would be rebuilt, death would be destroyed, and peace truly would exist on earth.
The long-awaited Messiah... a baby. It didn't make sense.
Emmanuel--God with us---is sleeping in a dirty cow trough.
Yup, definitely not the most wonderful time of the year.
I'm so glad Mary, Joseph, Jesus, the shepherds, et al. didn't call it quits, didn't tell God how to do His job. Even in these less than ideal conditions, hope shone brighter than the star illuminating the sky.
Like the shepherds, I am willing to drop everything and sing praises to the One who deserves them.
Like the inn keeper, I offer all of what I have, even if it doesn't seem like much.
Like Joseph, I desire to be obedient even when it looks very different than I expected.
Like Mary, I want to be faithful to what God has asked of me
Like Jesus, I seek to do what needs to be done no matter how uncomfortable, how agonizing it may be.
And, unlike Herod, I am not going to take matters into my own hands.
Maybe the most wonderful time of the year doesn't mean a walking in a winter wonderland.
Maybe it means hope and anticipation for something new. It means finding peace and comfort in God's promise never to abandon us. It means joy even in life's less than comfortable moments. It means resting in the loving arms of the Father.
The most wonderful time of the year is any moment when you remember that Christ truly is Emmanuel, God with us, both now and forevermore.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Being Used
"I'm tired," I said, resting my head on Neal's shoulder. It was lunchtime on our third day in Nicaragua and we'd already done three church services, visited three schools, and been performed for twice.
He put his arm around me in a side hug. There we stood in silence for a few minutes. I never said this but I was more than tired; I was discouraged.
The previous night we had done a worship service at a youth-filled home church in the city. It was in the upper room of this little house where our team of 26 took up most of the incredibly uncomfortable seats. The youth from this church sat scattered among us, crouched on the floor in the back, or stood squished in the corner.
They started out the worship service with some songs, prayer, a dance, and a short message. Then we did some of the same things: three songs, a skit (the only service we didn't do The Heart Skit), a prayer, a sign performance, a testimony, and a sermon. By the end of the service, most of our team was in tears, in awe of how alive the Spirit of the Lord was in that church.
This is an excerpt from my journal that night:
My head still resting on his chest, Neal rubbed my arm with his hand.
"God's using you, you know," he said.
As silly as this sounds, I was surprised to hear that. I knew that God would use me but I did not know He is using me. Present tense. Not some abstract future occurrence but right now.
Neal continued, "A lot of people said when you signed 'My Savior, My God' last night was when the Holy Spirit started to work on them."
What?
I had no idea. I figured God had started speaking when they danced, when we sang in two languages, when the father and son did a duet, when we prayed... sometime long before I took the stage.
Apparently not. The Holy Spirit used me and I had no idea. While I still would have liked to enjoy the overwhelming experience like the rest of my teammates, I was stunned and amazed to learn that I had been used and I had no idea.
I think I thanked Neal for telling me exactly what I needed to hear.
The version of "My Savior, My God" I signed was written to be a trio. I signed it by myself. A Trio, a Holy Trio, perfromed it.
Sometimes the Holy Spirit uses you and you know it. You feel it. But sometimes the Holy Spirit uses you and you have no idea. You don't feel it.
Are you ok with both?
I am.
<>< Katie
He put his arm around me in a side hug. There we stood in silence for a few minutes. I never said this but I was more than tired; I was discouraged.
The previous night we had done a worship service at a youth-filled home church in the city. It was in the upper room of this little house where our team of 26 took up most of the incredibly uncomfortable seats. The youth from this church sat scattered among us, crouched on the floor in the back, or stood squished in the corner.
They started out the worship service with some songs, prayer, a dance, and a short message. Then we did some of the same things: three songs, a skit (the only service we didn't do The Heart Skit), a prayer, a sign performance, a testimony, and a sermon. By the end of the service, most of our team was in tears, in awe of how alive the Spirit of the Lord was in that church.
This is an excerpt from my journal that night:
God, I'm a little jealous that everyone else had such wonderful experiences tonight. I know You are alive and here in Nicaragua but I didn't feel it the way everyone else did. I know that You speak to everyone in different ways but it seemed like You spoke to everyone in the same way tonight... except me.My eyes were dry. I felt nothing. I was annoyed with God for not allowing me to feel the same thing as everyone else. I was jealous, and I hadn't told anyone but God.
My head still resting on his chest, Neal rubbed my arm with his hand.
"God's using you, you know," he said.
As silly as this sounds, I was surprised to hear that. I knew that God would use me but I did not know He is using me. Present tense. Not some abstract future occurrence but right now.
Neal continued, "A lot of people said when you signed 'My Savior, My God' last night was when the Holy Spirit started to work on them."
What?
I had no idea. I figured God had started speaking when they danced, when we sang in two languages, when the father and son did a duet, when we prayed... sometime long before I took the stage.
Apparently not. The Holy Spirit used me and I had no idea. While I still would have liked to enjoy the overwhelming experience like the rest of my teammates, I was stunned and amazed to learn that I had been used and I had no idea.
I think I thanked Neal for telling me exactly what I needed to hear.
The version of "My Savior, My God" I signed was written to be a trio. I signed it by myself. A Trio, a Holy Trio, perfromed it.
Sometimes the Holy Spirit uses you and you know it. You feel it. But sometimes the Holy Spirit uses you and you have no idea. You don't feel it.
Are you ok with both?
I am.
<>< 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
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
Monday, July 28, 2008
God Speaking
Comments make my day. :-) I'm glad you like the song references. I'm sure there are more to come.
I wrote a blog during work today but wasn't pleased with it, so I saved it and decided to finish it later. It was talking about how all morning on Sunday I had different songs from Casting Crowns' Altar and the Door CD rotating through my head. I finally got them to go away and they sang "Everyman" in church. Annoying? Yes.
I then came home today and learned one of our family friends is in the hospital with a life threatening illness. She's younger than my youngest sister, and she's been really sick for several months. They finally have a diagnosis, but treatment will require multiple months stay in an out-of-state hospital. Prayers are much appreciated! I was texting my friend (her older sister) not really listening to my iPod as it played on shuffle in the background. Our conversation ended and I realized the song that was playing is on that I consider "her song." Of the 2,869 songs on my iPod, playing today was one of the two songs she gave me when they moved away. Perfectly planned? Of course.
I got an email update about her sister a few hours later in which she shared this story that went right along with this theme. She was driving yesterday with Casting Crowns Lifesong CD playing. She said it was a bright and sunny day when "Praise You In This Storm" came on. By the time the song hit to the chorus, rain drops were falling. When the song finished, so did the rain. Coincidence? Not with God.
In the words of Mandisa, "Who knows how He'll get a hold you. Get our attention to prove He is enough. He'll do and He'll use whatever He wants to, to tell us: 'I love you.'"
In Christ,
<><>
"Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise His Holy Name...Who forgives all your sings and heals all your diseases." Psalm 103:1,3
I wrote a blog during work today but wasn't pleased with it, so I saved it and decided to finish it later. It was talking about how all morning on Sunday I had different songs from Casting Crowns' Altar and the Door CD rotating through my head. I finally got them to go away and they sang "Everyman" in church. Annoying? Yes.
I then came home today and learned one of our family friends is in the hospital with a life threatening illness. She's younger than my youngest sister, and she's been really sick for several months. They finally have a diagnosis, but treatment will require multiple months stay in an out-of-state hospital. Prayers are much appreciated! I was texting my friend (her older sister) not really listening to my iPod as it played on shuffle in the background. Our conversation ended and I realized the song that was playing is on that I consider "her song." Of the 2,869 songs on my iPod, playing today was one of the two songs she gave me when they moved away. Perfectly planned? Of course.
I got an email update about her sister a few hours later in which she shared this story that went right along with this theme. She was driving yesterday with Casting Crowns Lifesong CD playing. She said it was a bright and sunny day when "Praise You In This Storm" came on. By the time the song hit to the chorus, rain drops were falling. When the song finished, so did the rain. Coincidence? Not with God.
In the words of Mandisa, "Who knows how He'll get a hold you. Get our attention to prove He is enough. He'll do and He'll use whatever He wants to, to tell us: 'I love you.'"
In Christ,
<><>
"Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise His Holy Name...Who forgives all your sings and heals all your diseases." Psalm 103:1,3
Are you kidding me?
Comments make my day. :-) Since everyone likes the songs, I won't feel so bad about always including a song. I like songs.
Yesterday I drove the car my sister typically drives. (No, it's not her car). There were huge key scratches running from the driver's window to the keyhole. The car's a mess inside and out (two weeks ago I spent an hour plus cleaning this car... what the crap?). I get to the point where I actually turn the car on and the gas needle barely moves. Less than 1/4 of a tank of gas. What? That car shouldn't have less than 3/4 of a tank of gas! THEN Stellar Kart comes BLASTING through stereo. That 1999 stereo can't stand Stellar Kart! Ok, enough of my rant.
I pop out the CD and threw in The Altar and the Door by Casting Crowns. Good CD, but by the time I got to church I'd heard the whole CD. For the next three hours the songs rotated through my head. I finally stopped singing them and what song is part of the sermon? "Everyman" by Casting Crowns. Thanks, buddy!
Back to work!
In Christ,
<>< Katie
Yesterday I drove the car my sister typically drives. (No, it's not her car). There were huge key scratches running from the driver's window to the keyhole. The car's a mess inside and out (two weeks ago I spent an hour plus cleaning this car... what the crap?). I get to the point where I actually turn the car on and the gas needle barely moves. Less than 1/4 of a tank of gas. What? That car shouldn't have less than 3/4 of a tank of gas! THEN Stellar Kart comes BLASTING through stereo. That 1999 stereo can't stand Stellar Kart! Ok, enough of my rant.
I pop out the CD and threw in The Altar and the Door by Casting Crowns. Good CD, but by the time I got to church I'd heard the whole CD. For the next three hours the songs rotated through my head. I finally stopped singing them and what song is part of the sermon? "Everyman" by Casting Crowns. Thanks, buddy!
Back to work!
In Christ,
<>< Katie
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