Everyone was still over watching Glee one Thursday night last year, but I had a different agenda: avoid the sixteen people in the living room and get to bed.
I accomplished my mission and was ready to head into dream-world when the bedroom door opened, shining light into my dark room. I thought it was my roommate. Until I saw a head pop up at the foot of my bed. I slept in a loft last year, just far enough away from the ceiling that I could sit straight up. The only people that climbed up there were me and whoever was attached to the head at the foot of my bed.
The head became shoulders and she army crawled towards me.
"Katie," she hissed. "Are you asleep?"
I considered faking it, but I could not stifle my laughter.
"I didn't get a good night hug."
Melia crawled all of the way up to the head of my bed, gave me a hug, crawled backwards, and tried to climb down the ladder. The ladder was built for me, and I am literally eight inches taller than she is.
This started a long-standing joke about how Melia was going to sleepover one night and sleep in my bed.
"I get the wall," she always called. If someone was falling six feet out of bed, it was going to have to be me.
Over the summer, we shared a double bed one night. But there was no wall side.
Last weekend, we had three friends visit us, all of whom needed places to sleep. Our futon folds down to sleep two, but the third was out of luck.
Katie: Melia can sleep with me.
Melia: Seriously?
Katie: As long as I get the wall.
My bed is only four feet off of the ground this year, but that's still not a fall I want to make.
On Sunday night, Melia and I jumped into my bed and were pleasantly surprised to discover we both fit. We had an agreement. If either one of us couldn't sleep, we were going to take a spare blanket and sleep on the loveseat. No hurt feelings.
Jennifer: If you guys can't sleep, wake me up. One of you can sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the floor."
Jennifer seriously can sleep anytime, anywhere. There are nights I'm up working on homework with the light on, music playing, and paper shuffling when I look over and notice she is asleep.
Melia: Do you have enough space?
Katie: Yup. Do you have enough pillow?
Melia: Yes. If I get too hot, I'm just going to do what I did this summer and throw all of the covers on you.
Katie: Perfect!
In the morning, Melia and I compared notes. We both slept well. I wasn't cold, first time ever. The only real challenge was rolling over, but I only got poked in the eye once.
Jennifer had different notes. She got a horrible night's sleep. Quite possibly because she was afraid she would wake one of us up if she rolled over. Now that's selflessness! To be afraid to roll over at night because one of the girls in the other bed might wake up.
<>< Katie
Friday, October 15, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The House that Pukes Kids
There is a local family that invites Amber and me over for lunch on a regular basis. Sunday dinner is a gathering of three generations, approximately thirteen people, in a house near the church. We know this family so well that we don't even knock before walking it.
Rather than briefing first-timer Kevin on the chaos he was about to encounter, we spent the ride there discussing some of our best pranks. Those we've pulled and those that have been pulled on us. The appropriate and the inappropriate. The hilarious and the flops.
When we got there, we pulled the conversation to a temporary halt (primarily because I was telling alcohol-related stories and those are frowned upon in Baptist Country). Amber pulled open the back door and I followed her in. Behind me I heard a thud.
Kevin said as he was about to step inside the house, an eleven year old girl tumbled onto the ground from inside the wall. She was quickly followed by her three year old cousin wrapped in one of Granddaddy's dress shirts. They both laughed hysterically when Kevin jumped.
Amber and I were thoroughly amused but we knew there was still one missing. I walked back and looked into the hole in the wall. Sure enough, there was my six year old "boyfriend" with a pair of boxers on his head.
I guess the original plan had been to lure the three of us into the bathroom, together, and scare us by popping out of the top of the laundry shoot. Well, that wasn't good enough. Instead, they rolled out the side of it.
It definitely goes on the list of best pranks!
<>< Katie
Disclaimer: No one was hurt in the making of this blog. The laundry shoot is like a built-in cabinet basket that opens in the laundry room on the other side of the wall. The author claims no responsibility for any injuries that result from attempting similar pranks.
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
Friday, October 8, 2010
I finally did it!
Four years ago, as part of our university orientation class we had to make what is called a 50 by 50. Basically it's a bucket list of 50 things you want to accomplish by the time you turn 50. I never finished mine but on it was donate blood. I figured that would be one of those things I would do at 49 when my 50 by 50 resurfaced, unaccomplished. Well, I did at 49 but that was my donor number rather than my age.
Stephanie was sitting outside the caf on Tuesday trying to get people to sign up for appointments. I got "caught in the lunch rush" and didn't sign up. She caught me on the way out instead.
"Are you still thinking about donating?"
"Thinking about donating" was something I'd done for four years. The furthest I ever got was my first time: I got my mom to sign the permission form (I was 17) and signed up. Lo and behold in the two days between when I signed up and when my time came, I got a cold. I went by, talked to someone, and explained I had just a bit of a cold.
"We recommend you don't donate then because we don't want you to get any worser."
Yes, she said "worser." I cancelled my appointment and continued by day... cold free.
Another time I considered donating but I didn't weigh enough.
Then I went to Mexico... then Guatemala... then Costa Rica...
But now I'm one-year chloroquine-free (anti-malaria medicine that made me nauseous for nine weeks...), and I got bit by a dog. But even it if breaks the skin you're still eligible as long as the dog doesn't have rabies and the bite isn't inflammed or infected.
Ok, Moses, you're out of excuses.
I signed up for a time, told my roommates, and "ate healthy" for a day. I really have no idea what it means to "eat healthy," especially in a cafeteria, but I gave it my best shot. It apparently worked.
We had a few kinks: the once-over of doubt when I said I weigh more than 110 lbs, the lost stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, the woman vanishing on break while I was (giggling and) answering questions on the computer, and I had a very difficult time understanding the mumbled directions caked with a thick accent. Cattle herding.
As I was sitting there, needle in my arm, thinking. I thought about all of the germy surfaces surrounding me as blood poured from my vein. I realized that I have no memories of having blood drawn as a kid. None. I also thought about how mad Sarah got at me when she chose to read something I wrote while she was donating blood. "I'm in public with a needle in my arm, and I'm shouting, crying, and giggling. People keep asking if I'm ok, and it's all your fault!" I thought about my amazing roommates who called me exactly as I was struck with the needle. No, I didn't pass out!
All of this babbering to say: I finally did it! Another fear conquered! Another item crossed off the 50 by 50!
The goal for our blood drive was 90 units of blood. I was there two hours before it was supposed to close and we were barely halfway there, and the woman at the door was getting really nervous about coming in so low. Two hours later, they stopped taking walk-ins, but the existing line left them there for an extra hour. We raised 106 units! God is good!
If you're eligible to donate, there is a huge need right now. Check out The American Red Cross or your local blood center. Be a hero. Give an hour of your life to save three (lives that is).
<>< Katie
Stephanie was sitting outside the caf on Tuesday trying to get people to sign up for appointments. I got "caught in the lunch rush" and didn't sign up. She caught me on the way out instead.
"Are you still thinking about donating?"
"Thinking about donating" was something I'd done for four years. The furthest I ever got was my first time: I got my mom to sign the permission form (I was 17) and signed up. Lo and behold in the two days between when I signed up and when my time came, I got a cold. I went by, talked to someone, and explained I had just a bit of a cold.
"We recommend you don't donate then because we don't want you to get any worser."
Yes, she said "worser." I cancelled my appointment and continued by day... cold free.
Another time I considered donating but I didn't weigh enough.
Then I went to Mexico... then Guatemala... then Costa Rica...
But now I'm one-year chloroquine-free (anti-malaria medicine that made me nauseous for nine weeks...), and I got bit by a dog. But even it if breaks the skin you're still eligible as long as the dog doesn't have rabies and the bite isn't inflammed or infected.
Ok, Moses, you're out of excuses.
I signed up for a time, told my roommates, and "ate healthy" for a day. I really have no idea what it means to "eat healthy," especially in a cafeteria, but I gave it my best shot. It apparently worked.
We had a few kinks: the once-over of doubt when I said I weigh more than 110 lbs, the lost stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, the woman vanishing on break while I was (giggling and) answering questions on the computer, and I had a very difficult time understanding the mumbled directions caked with a thick accent. Cattle herding.
As I was sitting there, needle in my arm, thinking. I thought about all of the germy surfaces surrounding me as blood poured from my vein. I realized that I have no memories of having blood drawn as a kid. None. I also thought about how mad Sarah got at me when she chose to read something I wrote while she was donating blood. "I'm in public with a needle in my arm, and I'm shouting, crying, and giggling. People keep asking if I'm ok, and it's all your fault!" I thought about my amazing roommates who called me exactly as I was struck with the needle. No, I didn't pass out!
All of this babbering to say: I finally did it! Another fear conquered! Another item crossed off the 50 by 50!
The goal for our blood drive was 90 units of blood. I was there two hours before it was supposed to close and we were barely halfway there, and the woman at the door was getting really nervous about coming in so low. Two hours later, they stopped taking walk-ins, but the existing line left them there for an extra hour. We raised 106 units! God is good!
If you're eligible to donate, there is a huge need right now. Check out The American Red Cross or your local blood center. Be a hero. Give an hour of your life to save three (lives that is).
<>< Katie
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Wacky Wednesday
"If life is worth living, then it is worth recording."
Jennifer: Is that your journal?
Katie: No, it's my Writer's Notebook.
Jennifer: What's the difference? They're both writing, and they're both stupid.
Elizabeth: This is a fun game; there is no blood involved.
Andy: Clearly we have two different definitions of the word "fun." Fun for me always involves blood.
Katie: We do do that.
Sara: Katie Ax said do-do!
Matthew: Katie Ax is wearing a tutu? Um... those are jeans.
Katie: I am not wearing a tutu!
Maintenance Man: What would make a shower head scream?
Amy: Moby [the fish] just ran into a spiderweb.
[Elizabeth had just taken some cough syrup]
Elizabeth: I knew that!
Andy: No you didn't. You're drunk.
Elizabeth: What happened?
[a few days later]
Andy: You're drunk, too.
Katie: But I'm Lutheran; it's allowed.
Jennifer: Katie, it [a dust pan] is used for dirty things. It's ok if people lick it.
Nikki: This is our pet cat.
Courtney: You should hear the story. Really touching. The arts and crafts store was just going to throw him out.
Nikki: So we saved him, but we laminated him when we found out Presley was allergic.
Presley: That's why he's so shiny.
[All three of them are petting a paper cat]
Jennifer: I didn't know if you like feet.
Katie: I don't like them in my nose, but I don't mind them in general.
Jennifer: My toes don't fit in your nose. I have big toes and noses are generally small, but if you lie your nose will grow. So, Katie, you need to say lots of lies, so my toes will fit in your nose.
Katie: Jennifer, you're a weird thing that happens.
Jennifer: I only happened once.
Karissa: Are you guys Apple people?
Katie: No, that's Megan's apple. She asked me to get it for her from the caf.
Karissa: No, I meant are you a Mac or a Windows person?
Katie: Oh, Windows definitely. But I can use Macs.
Holden: Last time we went fishing Christian got his line tangled in mine. I just let my line out so he could untangle them, but he cut my line. When I reeled it in there was nothing there. He stole my hook!
Christian: He hit me in the face with a basketball. He just threw it in the dark and it hit me in the face.
Holden: He beat me up with a bowling pin.
Christian: But he found a pool noodle.
[Unfortunately, I really believe these hold at least some elements of the truth]
Danielle: I love fire, but I hate ovens. They scare me. It's so hot in there.
Dr. Z: People don't suffocate on Saran Wrap with other people around.
[We didn't test this theory]
Jennifer: Cheese [pronounced "Cheeth"] is so much better than Twilight.
Jennifer: We should make a movie as a suite.
Andy: It should be a musical.
Jennifer: I was thinking more like a horror musical.
Elizabeth: I'm in charge of the fake blood!
Nikki: Andy's in charge of side effects. I mean sound effects.
Amy: OOOH! I'll kill Liz!
Allyson: What did the popsicle go best the peanut butter?
Nikki: Did you just mess up the joke and the punch line's in there?
Allyson: No!
Nikki: I think you did. You're on drugs. [Legal, prescription ones]
Allyson: Wait! What kind of fish goes best with peanut butter? That was the joke on my popsicle.
Nikki: I don't know.
Allyson: Jelly fish! [Bursts out laughing while Nikki blinks]
Jennifer [on Nikki's facebook wall]: Thanks for the popcycle dart that you kindly threw at my head.
Nikki: Well, whenever I'm finished with my pop-cycle and I'll move on to my rap-cycle and then into my country-cycle to be concluded with my jazz-cycle... oh and maybe I'll have a krunk-cycle... then I'll go to the freezer and grab a popsicle dart and kindly throw it at your head again... in other words... you're welcome.
Andy: AHHH!! STOP talking about your cycles in the presence of men!
Jennifer: I hate rooming with English majors... obviously I can't spell because that POPSICLE dart hit me right in the temple and you could care less.
Nikki: Touche. My aim, it is too accurate. Almost in a mathematical sense, wouldn't you say?
Elizabeth: Now put your back arms on the pool noodle--
Katie: What do I do with my front arms?
Katie: Jamee actually updates her blog.
Kevin: You know what's funny? I updated mine, what, three times over the summer and I have five new followers. Katie updates hers everyday--
Katie: Not everyday!
John: Every other day, excuse us! You know, I might delete mine. It just takes too much thought and energy.
Kevin: I hate those two things!
Jennifer: Is that your journal?
Katie: No, it's my Writer's Notebook.
Jennifer: What's the difference? They're both writing, and they're both stupid.
Elizabeth: This is a fun game; there is no blood involved.
Andy: Clearly we have two different definitions of the word "fun." Fun for me always involves blood.
Katie: We do do that.
Sara: Katie Ax said do-do!
Matthew: Katie Ax is wearing a tutu? Um... those are jeans.
Katie: I am not wearing a tutu!
Maintenance Man: What would make a shower head scream?
Amy: Moby [the fish] just ran into a spiderweb.
[Elizabeth had just taken some cough syrup]
Elizabeth: I knew that!
Andy: No you didn't. You're drunk.
Elizabeth: What happened?
[a few days later]
Andy: You're drunk, too.
Katie: But I'm Lutheran; it's allowed.
Jennifer: Katie, it [a dust pan] is used for dirty things. It's ok if people lick it.
Nikki: This is our pet cat.
Courtney: You should hear the story. Really touching. The arts and crafts store was just going to throw him out.
Nikki: So we saved him, but we laminated him when we found out Presley was allergic.
Presley: That's why he's so shiny.
[All three of them are petting a paper cat]
Jennifer: I didn't know if you like feet.
Katie: I don't like them in my nose, but I don't mind them in general.
Jennifer: My toes don't fit in your nose. I have big toes and noses are generally small, but if you lie your nose will grow. So, Katie, you need to say lots of lies, so my toes will fit in your nose.
Katie: Jennifer, you're a weird thing that happens.
Jennifer: I only happened once.
Karissa: Are you guys Apple people?
Katie: No, that's Megan's apple. She asked me to get it for her from the caf.
Karissa: No, I meant are you a Mac or a Windows person?
Katie: Oh, Windows definitely. But I can use Macs.
Holden: Last time we went fishing Christian got his line tangled in mine. I just let my line out so he could untangle them, but he cut my line. When I reeled it in there was nothing there. He stole my hook!
Christian: He hit me in the face with a basketball. He just threw it in the dark and it hit me in the face.
Holden: He beat me up with a bowling pin.
Christian: But he found a pool noodle.
[Unfortunately, I really believe these hold at least some elements of the truth]
Danielle: I love fire, but I hate ovens. They scare me. It's so hot in there.
Dr. Z: People don't suffocate on Saran Wrap with other people around.
[We didn't test this theory]
Jennifer: Cheese [pronounced "Cheeth"] is so much better than Twilight.
Jennifer: We should make a movie as a suite.
Andy: It should be a musical.
Jennifer: I was thinking more like a horror musical.
Elizabeth: I'm in charge of the fake blood!
Nikki: Andy's in charge of side effects. I mean sound effects.
Amy: OOOH! I'll kill Liz!
Allyson: What did the popsicle go best the peanut butter?
Nikki: Did you just mess up the joke and the punch line's in there?
Allyson: No!
Nikki: I think you did. You're on drugs. [Legal, prescription ones]
Allyson: Wait! What kind of fish goes best with peanut butter? That was the joke on my popsicle.
Nikki: I don't know.
Allyson: Jelly fish! [Bursts out laughing while Nikki blinks]
Jennifer [on Nikki's facebook wall]: Thanks for the popcycle dart that you kindly threw at my head.
Nikki: Well, whenever I'm finished with my pop-cycle and I'll move on to my rap-cycle and then into my country-cycle to be concluded with my jazz-cycle... oh and maybe I'll have a krunk-cycle... then I'll go to the freezer and grab a popsicle dart and kindly throw it at your head again... in other words... you're welcome.
Andy: AHHH!! STOP talking about your cycles in the presence of men!
Jennifer: I hate rooming with English majors... obviously I can't spell because that POPSICLE dart hit me right in the temple and you could care less.
Nikki: Touche. My aim, it is too accurate. Almost in a mathematical sense, wouldn't you say?
Elizabeth: Now put your back arms on the pool noodle--
Katie: What do I do with my front arms?
Katie: Jamee actually updates her blog.
Kevin: You know what's funny? I updated mine, what, three times over the summer and I have five new followers. Katie updates hers everyday--
Katie: Not everyday!
John: Every other day, excuse us! You know, I might delete mine. It just takes too much thought and energy.
Kevin: I hate those two things!
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Mirror
Sometimes I want to have a "Did you know?" blog series. My brain is filled with random things that I enjoy making people stop and go "Wait, what?"
Examples:
Did you know, watermelon floats?
Did you know, shaving cream cleans tables?
Did you know, dry erase markers write on mirrors?
The other morning, I stumbled into the bathroom to find two notes.
Ten minutes later I ventured into the bathroom again and found a whole new set of notes.
Do something simple and make someone's day today.
PS: I didn't wash the mirror.
<>< Katie
Examples:
Did you know, watermelon floats?
Did you know, shaving cream cleans tables?
Did you know, dry erase markers write on mirrors?
The other morning, I stumbled into the bathroom to find two notes.
"Amy, I'm not going to class. It's a stress/sleep thing. Love, Liz."
"Jen, you're beautiful. Love, Nikki."Still half asleep, I brushed my teeth and didn't think anything of it.
Ten minutes later I ventured into the bathroom again and found a whole new set of notes.
KATIE!The mirror was covered in purple notes! And my sweet suitemates earned their keep. Their simple action put a smile on my face all day long.
We love you! We hope you have a wonderful day! Your beautiful face here: : )
PS: Please wash the mirror.
Do something simple and make someone's day today.
PS: I didn't wash the mirror.
<>< Katie
Friday, October 1, 2010
Fridge Kids
Growing up I spent my share of time at a certain neighbor's house. One of the things I always noticed was a certain photo on their fridge. It was of a girl who was clearly not from around here. I asked who she was and never remembered the answer. Seriously, I think I asked three or four times before I finally resolved myself to believe it was one of Kaitlyn's friends, and in my head I called her "Fridge Girl."
When I was looking for an "in Kaitlyn's honor" project for her 16th birthday, I sat down and thought about Kaitlyn. Lyme disease, dogs, Christ, and love all came to mind. As I was getting lost in memories, Fridge Girl popped up. I now realize Fridge Girl was a child they sponsored through Compassion. You see, my apartment now has our own Fridge Girl.
On Tuesday afternoon Nealasked begged me to help with an event on campus. My primary job was to sell merchandise but I also got to talk about Compassion. Play with money and CDs while talking about child sponsorship. Basically it was the perfect job for me.
I got to talk about my family's Fridge Girl. Her name is Maria Jose and she lives in Columbia with her two sisters and parents. Since she's in a Spanish-speaking country, I write letters to her directly in Spanish. Of course, Compassion has translators, but it feels more personal to me to exchange words in her native language.
My roommate Jennifer just recently got back from a trip through Compassion. She got to go to the Philippines to visit her sponsored child, Jamsell. Photos of Jamsell are all over our room and it makes me smile (and a little jealous) every time I see them.
Among us were volunteers from Compassion. One man showed us letters from his sponsored child in Ecuador, a map of where Compassion works, and then he ran out to his car. He came back with an arm full of computer-printed photographs of his grandchildren. He told us the age and full name of each child. It was actually quite sweet.
"And this is my new knee."
I was selling a CD at the time, so I was really hoping I misheard him. A discrete glance in their direction told me I was in no such luck. Right there on the table was a photograph of an x-ray.
"It has four parts..."
Let's just say I learned infinitely more than I ever wanted to know about knee replacements. Honestly, it was more awkward than the awkward moment the Compassion coordinator warned us about: The Packet Pass.
Each of us took a pile of packets (each packet has information about a real child somewhere in the world) and went through the audience handing them out. Our director told us to stay there among the audience until about halfway through the song.
"Two minutes," he said, "but it's going to feel like eight."
When I was standing up there with a smile and God's children in my hands, two minutes felt like eight seconds. It was while I was standing there I realized that in my hands I held fifteen children all who happened to be from Africa and Asia. That means that even though I can communicate in three languages, my communication with these kids would look like a game of charades. Not God's. He can talk to them directly in their language and vice versa. How cool is that? God speaks English, German, Chinese, all tribal languages, etc. It's a simple realization but when you're looking at photographs of real children, it's mind boggling.
As a student body, we sponsored 53 children on Tuesday! That is forty more than our previous record. That is 53 children whose were just given an education, medicine, and hope thanks to "poor college students." Fifty-three children and their families are being told about Christ! Well done, y'all! My apartment now has two of our own Fridge Girls and one Fridge Boy. I can't wait to start sending them letters and photos. Our Fridge Kids are going to think Americans are crazy. :-)
As for me, well, I'm just in awe at how God works. And I'm thankful for "Kaitlyn's friend," the first Fridge Girl in my life.
<>< Katie
When I was looking for an "in Kaitlyn's honor" project for her 16th birthday, I sat down and thought about Kaitlyn. Lyme disease, dogs, Christ, and love all came to mind. As I was getting lost in memories, Fridge Girl popped up. I now realize Fridge Girl was a child they sponsored through Compassion. You see, my apartment now has our own Fridge Girl.
On Tuesday afternoon Neal
I got to talk about my family's Fridge Girl. Her name is Maria Jose and she lives in Columbia with her two sisters and parents. Since she's in a Spanish-speaking country, I write letters to her directly in Spanish. Of course, Compassion has translators, but it feels more personal to me to exchange words in her native language.
My roommate Jennifer just recently got back from a trip through Compassion. She got to go to the Philippines to visit her sponsored child, Jamsell. Photos of Jamsell are all over our room and it makes me smile (and a little jealous) every time I see them.
Among us were volunteers from Compassion. One man showed us letters from his sponsored child in Ecuador, a map of where Compassion works, and then he ran out to his car. He came back with an arm full of computer-printed photographs of his grandchildren. He told us the age and full name of each child. It was actually quite sweet.
"And this is my new knee."
I was selling a CD at the time, so I was really hoping I misheard him. A discrete glance in their direction told me I was in no such luck. Right there on the table was a photograph of an x-ray.
"It has four parts..."
Let's just say I learned infinitely more than I ever wanted to know about knee replacements. Honestly, it was more awkward than the awkward moment the Compassion coordinator warned us about: The Packet Pass.
Each of us took a pile of packets (each packet has information about a real child somewhere in the world) and went through the audience handing them out. Our director told us to stay there among the audience until about halfway through the song.
"Two minutes," he said, "but it's going to feel like eight."
When I was standing up there with a smile and God's children in my hands, two minutes felt like eight seconds. It was while I was standing there I realized that in my hands I held fifteen children all who happened to be from Africa and Asia. That means that even though I can communicate in three languages, my communication with these kids would look like a game of charades. Not God's. He can talk to them directly in their language and vice versa. How cool is that? God speaks English, German, Chinese, all tribal languages, etc. It's a simple realization but when you're looking at photographs of real children, it's mind boggling.
As a student body, we sponsored 53 children on Tuesday! That is forty more than our previous record. That is 53 children whose were just given an education, medicine, and hope thanks to "poor college students." Fifty-three children and their families are being told about Christ! Well done, y'all! My apartment now has two of our own Fridge Girls and one Fridge Boy. I can't wait to start sending them letters and photos. Our Fridge Kids are going to think Americans are crazy. :-)
As for me, well, I'm just in awe at how God works. And I'm thankful for "Kaitlyn's friend," the first Fridge Girl in my life.
<>< Katie
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