Earlier this week I had coffee with a delightful woman whose family does not listen to much music. My understanding is that it's a sound issue where they can't handle the volume level. They went to a concert and had to leave because the sound stimulation was too much.
I tried to envision what my life would be like without music. I almost always have music playing. If it's not on, there's probably a song running through my head. Concerts are my family's bonding activity.
We've gone to the same multi-day Christian music festival for nine years. Our record is six Mark Schultz concerts in one calendar year. We sit around quoting "As Is" by Peder Eide as if "Samson was a long-haired, arrogant womanizer" is a perfectly logical thing to say in conversation.
If it weren't for music, we'd probably have to watch movies or take up karate like normal people.
When I talk about Lifest, I tell the silly stories: the standing ovation earned by a water bottle, the mud so bad our van had to be pushed into the parking lot, using my lawn chair as an umbrella, etc.
But I think about it, I think about worshipping with Phillips, Craig, and Dean as the rain gently fell on my face. I think about kneeling on fist-sized gravel to stretch my arms up to my Abba Father like a child wanting to be held. I remember Peter Furler (when he was in Newsboys) talking about God's perfect timing only to have a nearby train interrupt his sentence.
Can I worship without music?
I love how the Lord gets my attention through songs I've heard a million times. I get a taste of heaven when strangers unite as a family to sing praises to our Father. I didn't perform "My Savior, My God" in ASL in front of a crowded room of Nicaraguan believers; I worshipped my Savior, my God with my hands.
Through music may be one of my favorite ways to worship, but it's certainly not the only way.
To affirm or encourage someone, that's worship. To serve and love on someone, that's worship. To hug someone, to squeeze a shoulder as you pass, to look someone in the eye. Worship. To genuinely ask how someone's doing, to sit down and share life over a cup of coffee, to bring lunch to an under-employed freelance writer. Worship. To dance, to play ping pong, to sign, to make copies, etc. they can all be worship. (My thoughts on this have been heavily influenced by TASTE Worship--check it out).
In Guatemala, there was a day I was "forbidden" to sing and sign. I worshipped that day. I removed flecks of orange paint from a brush and bucket, and it was worshipful.
Can I worship with music?
Last summer, I remember running through the park arguing with God about being twenty minutes late to a forty-minute show. He brought to my attention that I was not approaching the concert with the right heart.
It wasn't the first time.
How often do I attend a concert just to add another artist to my repertoire? How often do I absent-mindedly sing along without realizing what I'm saying?
These questions hurt because I am ashamed of their answers.
Even at Christian concerts, my heart is not always in the right place. I've sung along, I've waved my arms, I've screamed at the top of my lungs, and I hate to confess it has not always been for the Lord.
It happens under a rain-free sky. It happens in a crowded, dark auditorium. It happens in my church on Sunday mornings. It happens to me more often than I care to admit.
I voluntarily took a day this week and turned the music off. I washed dishes in silence. I drove across town in the quiet. I worked without any accompaniment.
It was weird and awkward at first but then it became peaceful.
That's worship.
Weird and awkward at first. Uncomfortable and strange. But then peaceful, wonderful, and necessary.
Whether you're a person who loves to literally feel the beat of the drums or just prefers white noise in the background, take some time this week to worship with the radio off.
Let me know how it works for you.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label ASL. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ASL. Show all posts
Friday, February 24, 2012
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
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
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.
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.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Can't I just pray in peace?
The pastor had finished his sermon with a "Let's pray." I bowed my head and just as he started to pray, someone grabbed my knee. Not going to lie, I jumped a little. I looked up to see Queen Emily beckoning me towards her. She, Amber, and I had to leave church early, and the service was running long than we anticipated. Instead of staying for our arranged exit time, we snuck out during the prayer. A spontaneous change in plan that I was not informed of.
Not an hour later, Queen Emily, Amber, and were in our second church service for the day. We double-dipped on church because our sign choir had been asked to perform at the second service. Neal said, "Let's pray," I bowed my head, and Amber grabbed my knee. No praying allowed in church apparently. Instead, we had to progress on stage like an army preparing for battle.
The performance went better than expected. Not flawless but quite well considering the extremely limited amount of time we had to prepare. After the service, I was mingling and everyone seemed very impressed.
"You were my favorite one up there." You're biased.
"We always love it when you guys perform." Thanks, we love it, too.
It was Jennifer's words that stuck with me the most.
"You know, some people just sign with their hands. But you sign with your whole body. It's like you're telling a story." I like to tell stories.
When I joined this choir, I had no knowledge of American Sign Language. None. During practice, I would feverishly scribble what the signs looked like to me. For example, next to Queen Emily's "WHO" I wrote "inhaler." That's where I got my first sign name, a "K" on the chin, to remind everyone of my silly "WHO = inhaler" moment. When I started, the signs were just motions to me.
Now, almost four years later, I am conversant in ASL. The signs have moved on from being motions to being worship. It means I get to worship with all that I am. My hands, my body, my face, my heart, my mind, and sometimes even my voice. I use all that I am to praise God and tell His story.
It's worth all of those hours freshman year trying and trying to figure out what was going on. Every "WHO = inhaler" moment and the laughter that followed. Every trip to practice in the icy rain. Every sore shoulder/wrist from overuse and abuse. Every moved table and chair to create ample practice space. It's even worth every interrupted prayer to use all of my being to worship God as I tell His story.
<>< Katie
Not an hour later, Queen Emily, Amber, and were in our second church service for the day. We double-dipped on church because our sign choir had been asked to perform at the second service. Neal said, "Let's pray," I bowed my head, and Amber grabbed my knee. No praying allowed in church apparently. Instead, we had to progress on stage like an army preparing for battle.
The performance went better than expected. Not flawless but quite well considering the extremely limited amount of time we had to prepare. After the service, I was mingling and everyone seemed very impressed.
"You were my favorite one up there." You're biased.
"We always love it when you guys perform." Thanks, we love it, too.
It was Jennifer's words that stuck with me the most.
"You know, some people just sign with their hands. But you sign with your whole body. It's like you're telling a story." I like to tell stories.
When I joined this choir, I had no knowledge of American Sign Language. None. During practice, I would feverishly scribble what the signs looked like to me. For example, next to Queen Emily's "WHO" I wrote "inhaler." That's where I got my first sign name, a "K" on the chin, to remind everyone of my silly "WHO = inhaler" moment. When I started, the signs were just motions to me.
Now, almost four years later, I am conversant in ASL. The signs have moved on from being motions to being worship. It means I get to worship with all that I am. My hands, my body, my face, my heart, my mind, and sometimes even my voice. I use all that I am to praise God and tell His story.
It's worth all of those hours freshman year trying and trying to figure out what was going on. Every "WHO = inhaler" moment and the laughter that followed. Every trip to practice in the icy rain. Every sore shoulder/wrist from overuse and abuse. Every moved table and chair to create ample practice space. It's even worth every interrupted prayer to use all of my being to worship God as I tell His story.
<>< Katie
Monday, July 26, 2010
ASL Pride
Part of my new optimism ploy for the last eleven months or so has been to catch people doing things right. If I'm going to do it for my "real life" friends, I feel the need to exhibit the same courtesy to my virtual friends. As an ASL minor, I cannot let this story slip by uncelebrated. Please take a moment and realize not everyone in the hearing and medical worlds are the evil deaf-haters that our professors make us out to be. There are exceptions. Please got take a few minutes and read it. Thank you, Jim. Well done. <>< Katie
National Youth Gathering Post One: a YAV at the NYG in NOLA
NYG Post Two: The Savior, The Seat Belt, The Superdome
For the last week, I've been in New Orleans at the LCMS National Youth Gathering. Basically, 25,000 teens from around the country (and world) gather to worship God. As a volunteer, it was my job be enthusiastic, loud and crazy, and cheerful. For a pessimistic introvert, that's not easy. On top of the fact that I knew a grand total of one person at the event. One. Everyone else was greeting friends they hadn't seen in months or years and I was sitting there going, "Yeah, I haven't seen you ever. My name is Katie; what's yours?" Not going to lie, I was jealous and homesick (for my college friends).
My first night in NOLA, they split us up into groups of about 20 to 30 people that we would get to know over the next few days. We shared our name, hometown, and one safety item we brought with us. The conversation had kind of moved on, but it wasn't anything deep or serious (yet). One girl got the attention of our group.
"Just so you all know, I'm completely deaf. If you could please face towards me when you're talking, it'll help me read your lips." Her voice was excellent. I never would have known she could not hear had she not said something.
A little adrenaline rush started inside of me. I wanted to know if she signed. Ten minutes later, we were in a circle more conducive to conversation, and I threw out a simple, "Do you sign?" with Casey's favorite Question Finger. I got a yes. PAH! My little adrenaline rush turned into a bigger adrenaline rush, and I'm amazed I didn't tangle myself into a literal knot. It had been two months since I'd done any serious signing, so I was a little rusty. But it didn't matter.
She was drinking out of her water bottle with her left hand as she watched me. Her eyes lit up. She didn't say, "Cool" or "Neat" or anything. No, she said "Wonderful." I babbled some more and then she took a turn talking about how so many people in the world are clueless about Deaf culture. With the rest of our group staring rather rudely, she and I talked for a few minutes. I learned she, too, knew no one at the NYG.
We weren't glued to the hip, but I made a point to know where she was at most times. I began to imagine what it had been like for her to be trying to lip read everything. A lot of times, she'd just give up and read her book instead of listening (or watching). Once or twice she asked me what someone had said and I signed it back to her.
I don't know how she felt about encountering someone else who signed, but to me it was a sign from God that my week was going to be ok. He was there with me. There I was feeling sorry for myself about not knowing anyong and God sent me someone in a smiliar predicament.
Her honesty in admitting her deafness broke the ice for my group. By the end of the 45-minute Get to Know You time, most of us were in tears. Every person sitting in that circle had a story that would break your heart. Financial challenges that meant it was only by the grace of God that he was able to attend the Gathering. A girl that was signed up to attend the 2007 Gathering but found herself in the hospital instead. A boy who was trying to quit smoking asked us to throw away his cigarettes to remove the tempation that week. A friend of a 2007 participant who has since gone Home to Heaven.
Wow.
When the adult coordinator came by to give us a five-minute warning, our group was locked together in a hug. In less than three hours we transformed from strangers trying to learn names ("When in doubt, guess Katie") to the family of Christ crying together. I love it!
National Youth Gathering Post One: a YAV at the NYG in NOLA
NYG Post Two: The Savior, The Seat Belt, The Superdome
For the last week, I've been in New Orleans at the LCMS National Youth Gathering. Basically, 25,000 teens from around the country (and world) gather to worship God. As a volunteer, it was my job be enthusiastic, loud and crazy, and cheerful. For a pessimistic introvert, that's not easy. On top of the fact that I knew a grand total of one person at the event. One. Everyone else was greeting friends they hadn't seen in months or years and I was sitting there going, "Yeah, I haven't seen you ever. My name is Katie; what's yours?" Not going to lie, I was jealous and homesick (for my college friends).
My first night in NOLA, they split us up into groups of about 20 to 30 people that we would get to know over the next few days. We shared our name, hometown, and one safety item we brought with us. The conversation had kind of moved on, but it wasn't anything deep or serious (yet). One girl got the attention of our group.
"Just so you all know, I'm completely deaf. If you could please face towards me when you're talking, it'll help me read your lips." Her voice was excellent. I never would have known she could not hear had she not said something.
A little adrenaline rush started inside of me. I wanted to know if she signed. Ten minutes later, we were in a circle more conducive to conversation, and I threw out a simple, "Do you sign?" with Casey's favorite Question Finger. I got a yes. PAH! My little adrenaline rush turned into a bigger adrenaline rush, and I'm amazed I didn't tangle myself into a literal knot. It had been two months since I'd done any serious signing, so I was a little rusty. But it didn't matter.
She was drinking out of her water bottle with her left hand as she watched me. Her eyes lit up. She didn't say, "Cool" or "Neat" or anything. No, she said "Wonderful." I babbled some more and then she took a turn talking about how so many people in the world are clueless about Deaf culture. With the rest of our group staring rather rudely, she and I talked for a few minutes. I learned she, too, knew no one at the NYG.
We weren't glued to the hip, but I made a point to know where she was at most times. I began to imagine what it had been like for her to be trying to lip read everything. A lot of times, she'd just give up and read her book instead of listening (or watching). Once or twice she asked me what someone had said and I signed it back to her.
I don't know how she felt about encountering someone else who signed, but to me it was a sign from God that my week was going to be ok. He was there with me. There I was feeling sorry for myself about not knowing anyong and God sent me someone in a smiliar predicament.
Her honesty in admitting her deafness broke the ice for my group. By the end of the 45-minute Get to Know You time, most of us were in tears. Every person sitting in that circle had a story that would break your heart. Financial challenges that meant it was only by the grace of God that he was able to attend the Gathering. A girl that was signed up to attend the 2007 Gathering but found herself in the hospital instead. A boy who was trying to quit smoking asked us to throw away his cigarettes to remove the tempation that week. A friend of a 2007 participant who has since gone Home to Heaven.
Wow.
When the adult coordinator came by to give us a five-minute warning, our group was locked together in a hug. In less than three hours we transformed from strangers trying to learn names ("When in doubt, guess Katie") to the family of Christ crying together. I love it!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
My life is awesome
Author's Note: All of the following is a collection of achronological stories that have all happened in the last two days. Minor creative liberties may have been taken but these stories are as true as I can put them to where a reader can understand without having actually been here. Please don't pity me. I am cranky, but I am not being sarcastic; my life is awesome. Enjoy. <>< K
My life is awesome
Katie: Guys, I just had another bloody nose.
Andy: I'm trained handle that.
Elizabeth: How many times do we have to tell you, Katie: stop getting punched in the face!
Katie: It was Allyson!
(side note: this is a whole lot funnier if you know Allyson because she'd never hurt a fly)
Allyson (butter knife in hand): Do you want me to cut off your nose? That would help!
Katie: Actually, I think that'd make it bleed a bit more.
Andy: Well, look at it this way: it would hurt and bleed a lot right away but then you'd never have to worry about it again!
Elizabeth: Yeah, 'cuz you'd be dead.
(insert big argument about whether or not it's possible to live after getting your nose chopped off with a butter knife)
My life is awesome
Nikki: Gah! Why don't I ever date my notes?
Katie: Because they're not male.
Nikki: I never send my notes in the mail.
My life is awesome
Katie: Is that your mom or Andy on the phone?
Elizabeth: Huh?
Katie: Is that your mom or Andy on the phone?
Elizabeth: I still can't understand Katie's man-voice.
Nikki: You mean Kenny's man-voice?
Elizabeth: Talk to me again when you sound normal.
Katie (in the most pitiful stuffy-nose voice I could make): Just because I don't have a sense of smell doesn't mean I don't have feelings!
My life is awesome
If you've never been in an ASL class it's hard to imagine twenty people sitting around in complete silence when no one has died. Please try to picture it for me. Oh, and we were watching a silent movie, so... well... we know what happens when videos are shown in class... Anyway, I was in desperate need of some Tylenol. This cold might kill me, my headache was not helping, and after watching 50 minutes of ASL storytelling on a small tv screen you'd be groping for Tylenol, too. I was trying to decide if it would have been socially acceptable to take it in the middle of class. Most classes I wouldn't have cared, but this one is completely silent, so all of my classmates will hear me unzip my personal pharmacy; the bottle rattle; plus, I dropped my Nalgene splash guard on the floor yesterday and haven't had time to wash it, so I'm going to make a noisy mess as I nearly drown myself trying to swallow the pesky pill; eventually I'll give up and the "crunch" will reverberate through the classroom as if we were in a tunnel. This was my very long internal debate. I finally decided I didn't care: I needed some Tylenol. So I uncrossed my legs and began to dig into my backpack, but before I got there I accidently kicked one of the desks in front of me. "That desk is going to fall and there is nothing I can do about it." It fell in slow motion and the clang rang through the previously silent classroom.
My. Life. Is. Awesome.
My life is awesome
Katie: Guys, I just had another bloody nose.
Andy: I'm trained handle that.
Elizabeth: How many times do we have to tell you, Katie: stop getting punched in the face!
Katie: It was Allyson!
(side note: this is a whole lot funnier if you know Allyson because she'd never hurt a fly)
Allyson (butter knife in hand): Do you want me to cut off your nose? That would help!
Katie: Actually, I think that'd make it bleed a bit more.
Andy: Well, look at it this way: it would hurt and bleed a lot right away but then you'd never have to worry about it again!
Elizabeth: Yeah, 'cuz you'd be dead.
(insert big argument about whether or not it's possible to live after getting your nose chopped off with a butter knife)
My life is awesome
Nikki: Gah! Why don't I ever date my notes?
Katie: Because they're not male.
Nikki: I never send my notes in the mail.
My life is awesome
Katie: Is that your mom or Andy on the phone?
Elizabeth: Huh?
Katie: Is that your mom or Andy on the phone?
Elizabeth: I still can't understand Katie's man-voice.
Nikki: You mean Kenny's man-voice?
Elizabeth: Talk to me again when you sound normal.
Katie (in the most pitiful stuffy-nose voice I could make): Just because I don't have a sense of smell doesn't mean I don't have feelings!
My life is awesome
If you've never been in an ASL class it's hard to imagine twenty people sitting around in complete silence when no one has died. Please try to picture it for me. Oh, and we were watching a silent movie, so... well... we know what happens when videos are shown in class... Anyway, I was in desperate need of some Tylenol. This cold might kill me, my headache was not helping, and after watching 50 minutes of ASL storytelling on a small tv screen you'd be groping for Tylenol, too. I was trying to decide if it would have been socially acceptable to take it in the middle of class. Most classes I wouldn't have cared, but this one is completely silent, so all of my classmates will hear me unzip my personal pharmacy; the bottle rattle; plus, I dropped my Nalgene splash guard on the floor yesterday and haven't had time to wash it, so I'm going to make a noisy mess as I nearly drown myself trying to swallow the pesky pill; eventually I'll give up and the "crunch" will reverberate through the classroom as if we were in a tunnel. This was my very long internal debate. I finally decided I didn't care: I needed some Tylenol. So I uncrossed my legs and began to dig into my backpack, but before I got there I accidently kicked one of the desks in front of me. "That desk is going to fall and there is nothing I can do about it." It fell in slow motion and the clang rang through the previously silent classroom.
My. Life. Is. Awesome.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
What is Worship?
Saturday I woke up with a headache, cramps, and sore throat. Some expired Tylenol took care of the first two but the sore throat is here to stay. Sunday I woke up nauseous with a sore throat. This is a fun game. I managed to add another day to my no-puking stretch (2.5 years and counting; my record is 6 years) but by the time I made it to church I had a really good Scooby Doo voice. Wonderful. Normally when I get sick I can sing through loosing my voice. With a hopeful heart I began to sing, "Everyone needs compass-squoak. A love that's ----- let mercy fa-- on muheee."
God! I'm trying to praise You here. I'm worshipping YOU and You're taking away my ability to do that. Something just doesn't seem right with this picture. I'm giving You everything I've got.
The more I tried to sing, the worse my voice became (pity the people sitting next to me!) and the more frustrated I became.
Can't this wait until this afternoon? I just want to sing praises to You.
It was as if God responded, Katie, you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Huh?
You heard Me: you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Serve the least of these. There aren't any least-of-theses around right now. Yes, I'm listening to our sermon series on compassion. I know, but right now I'm praising You with what's left of my voice.
Look around you.
On my left was Emma, a first year nursing student who'd previously been sitting by herself.
I'm sitting with Emma instead of sitting in my normal spot!
Good start. Keep looking.
On my right was Kevin who'd dislocated his shoulder on Thursday.
Kevin can't drive for three to six weeks. How do you think He got here?
Keep thinking.
Last night after dinner Chris and I went to Dairy Queen to get blizzards buy one get one for a quarter. The line was literally to the door. The team manager was having a rough day. She made small blizzards instead of mediums, so she had to throw them away and start over. Based on the look on her face, this was one of many things that had gone wrong. A woman in front of us started chewing this employee out.
"You've thrown away $30 worth of stuff. I know you've had a bad day but you cannot let your customers see you like this. I've worked in retail a LONG TIME and you CANNOT let your customers see you like this. Did you notice? They're all standing in line patiently waiting why you throw a fit..."
She went on for a very long time. I don't understand how that was supposed to be beneficial for the employee. Both of the women were wrong. The woman behind us in line looked at the "angry woman" and said, "We all heard that." I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt thinking maybe she was saying "shut up"... until she got to the front of the line and whispered to her daughter, "Make sure that employee doesn't spit in our blizzards."
Chris and I both agreed this was "more awkward than 'The Office'" but neither one of us did anything about it. Why? We were scared the rest of the line was going to leap down our throats (maybe that would have healed my sore throat). Back up: we were scared. I wanted to give the employee a smile or wish her a good day but she never acknowledged my presence. I would have had to go out of my way to wish this woman a good day and I chickened out.
My intentions were good.
Good intentions don't get you anywhere. Picking up Kevin and sitting with Emma are good starts but neither one inconvenienced you. In fact, they both mean you don't have to sit in the pew alone.
I like sitting in the pew by myself!
It's my turn to talk. Put the towel on, Katie. Not just when you're at an inner-city church. Not just when you feel like it or it's convenient to you. Do it when it benefits My Kingdom. Clean the bathroom when it's not your turn and do it without complaining. Do the dishes even though you didn't dirty them. Give someone a ride to the caf because it's raining; don't see it as a waste of gas. Take up someone's dishes when you aren't headed that way. Give up a computer during your 10:00 blog-hour to let someone do homework. Put the towel on and serve the least of these. Touch the untouchables. Worship means so much more than singing.
We've talked about this before.
We have; you needed a reminder today.
Ok, got it. Can I have my voice back now?Nope. You know ASL; use those signs.
<>< Katie-Doo
Elizabeth: Between Katie and Adam someone is always sneezing today.
Adam: Nah, I'm always sneezing; it's not just today.
Elizabeth: Well, you're doing it excessively, and I'd like you to stop.
God! I'm trying to praise You here. I'm worshipping YOU and You're taking away my ability to do that. Something just doesn't seem right with this picture. I'm giving You everything I've got.
The more I tried to sing, the worse my voice became (pity the people sitting next to me!) and the more frustrated I became.
Can't this wait until this afternoon? I just want to sing praises to You.
It was as if God responded, Katie, you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Huh?
You heard Me: you don't need a voice to worship Me.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Serve the least of these. There aren't any least-of-theses around right now. Yes, I'm listening to our sermon series on compassion. I know, but right now I'm praising You with what's left of my voice.
Look around you.
On my left was Emma, a first year nursing student who'd previously been sitting by herself.
I'm sitting with Emma instead of sitting in my normal spot!
Good start. Keep looking.
On my right was Kevin who'd dislocated his shoulder on Thursday.
Kevin can't drive for three to six weeks. How do you think He got here?
Keep thinking.
Last night after dinner Chris and I went to Dairy Queen to get blizzards buy one get one for a quarter. The line was literally to the door. The team manager was having a rough day. She made small blizzards instead of mediums, so she had to throw them away and start over. Based on the look on her face, this was one of many things that had gone wrong. A woman in front of us started chewing this employee out.
"You've thrown away $30 worth of stuff. I know you've had a bad day but you cannot let your customers see you like this. I've worked in retail a LONG TIME and you CANNOT let your customers see you like this. Did you notice? They're all standing in line patiently waiting why you throw a fit..."
She went on for a very long time. I don't understand how that was supposed to be beneficial for the employee. Both of the women were wrong. The woman behind us in line looked at the "angry woman" and said, "We all heard that." I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt thinking maybe she was saying "shut up"... until she got to the front of the line and whispered to her daughter, "Make sure that employee doesn't spit in our blizzards."
Chris and I both agreed this was "more awkward than 'The Office'" but neither one of us did anything about it. Why? We were scared the rest of the line was going to leap down our throats (maybe that would have healed my sore throat). Back up: we were scared. I wanted to give the employee a smile or wish her a good day but she never acknowledged my presence. I would have had to go out of my way to wish this woman a good day and I chickened out.
My intentions were good.
Good intentions don't get you anywhere. Picking up Kevin and sitting with Emma are good starts but neither one inconvenienced you. In fact, they both mean you don't have to sit in the pew alone.
I like sitting in the pew by myself!
It's my turn to talk. Put the towel on, Katie. Not just when you're at an inner-city church. Not just when you feel like it or it's convenient to you. Do it when it benefits My Kingdom. Clean the bathroom when it's not your turn and do it without complaining. Do the dishes even though you didn't dirty them. Give someone a ride to the caf because it's raining; don't see it as a waste of gas. Take up someone's dishes when you aren't headed that way. Give up a computer during your 10:00 blog-hour to let someone do homework. Put the towel on and serve the least of these. Touch the untouchables. Worship means so much more than singing.
We've talked about this before.
We have; you needed a reminder today.
Ok, got it. Can I have my voice back now?Nope. You know ASL; use those signs.
<>< Katie-Doo
Elizabeth: Between Katie and Adam someone is always sneezing today.
Adam: Nah, I'm always sneezing; it's not just today.
Elizabeth: Well, you're doing it excessively, and I'd like you to stop.
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
Monday, March 29, 2010
The Nose Knows
It's happened. I've been waiting patiently all semester and it has finally come to fruition. A cold has taken up residence in my body and no amount of hand sanitizer, bottled water, or Zicam will be evicting my newest suitemate. Until it decides to leave on its own terms, I will be sanitizing everything I look at.
But you know what? It's ok. Don't get me wrong, breathing is really annoying right now, but if it's March and I just now got sick for the first time: it's been a good year!
The other day at sign choir practice, Lizzie and I got into each others' sign space. Her hand got a little too close to my face. If Malachi poking me in the nose made it bleed, Lizzie's fingers definitely would have come out covered in ... censored. Ew gross! Filter, Katie, filter.
The sign Lizzie almost sent up my nose was "God." Yes, Lizzie's God almost went up my nose. Sometimes we need God to bloody our boogy nose before He gets our attention. That shouldn't be the case but it is reality. He shouldn't have to take such drastic measures before we give Him our undivided attention. Yet we're too busy running around trying to stay healthy, be productive, and keep the peace that we don't find the time to thank Him for our health, work, and relationships. We don't take a second and look for Him in those situations; we wait until He's taken drastic measures before we focus on Him.
Take a second and thank Him. Ask Him to reveal Himself to you in a new way today.
As for me, I will do the same. I'll also make sure I'm rexercising ("rest" and "exercise" combined) to make sure this cold doesn't apply to be my roommate for next year. Oh, and since Zicam recalled their excellent up-the-nose product, I'll try to make sure the only thing headed up my nose is a tissue... and the occasional finger. Kidding. I think.
<>< Katie
But you know what? It's ok. Don't get me wrong, breathing is really annoying right now, but if it's March and I just now got sick for the first time: it's been a good year!
The other day at sign choir practice, Lizzie and I got into each others' sign space. Her hand got a little too close to my face. If Malachi poking me in the nose made it bleed, Lizzie's fingers definitely would have come out covered in ... censored. Ew gross! Filter, Katie, filter.
The sign Lizzie almost sent up my nose was "God." Yes, Lizzie's God almost went up my nose. Sometimes we need God to bloody our boogy nose before He gets our attention. That shouldn't be the case but it is reality. He shouldn't have to take such drastic measures before we give Him our undivided attention. Yet we're too busy running around trying to stay healthy, be productive, and keep the peace that we don't find the time to thank Him for our health, work, and relationships. We don't take a second and look for Him in those situations; we wait until He's taken drastic measures before we focus on Him.
Take a second and thank Him. Ask Him to reveal Himself to you in a new way today.
As for me, I will do the same. I'll also make sure I'm rexercising ("rest" and "exercise" combined) to make sure this cold doesn't apply to be my roommate for next year. Oh, and since Zicam recalled their excellent up-the-nose product, I'll try to make sure the only thing headed up my nose is a tissue... and the occasional finger. Kidding. I think.
<>< Katie
Monday, March 15, 2010
Te Amo or Te Quiero
As per tradition, the night before a mission trip our friends gather on the floot and pray over those leaving. Last year when I went to Guatemala, Amber prayed in ASL. This year Amber was headed on an ASL mission trip, so I teased about praying in Spanish. I wasn't actually prepared to do that, but I did end with some Spanish just for kicks and giggles. I said, "Dios, Te amo" or "God, I love You."
Unlike in English, Spanish has multiple words for the word "love" and multiple ways to say, "I love you." When I first learned how to say "I love you" the teacher taught me "te amo," but I've since learned it's an intimate love typically only used between husband and wife. A better term to use on a daily basis is "te quiero" or more of a friendship love. I'm slowly working "te amo" out of my vocabulary and felt dumb when I said it in our prayer. Not really like Amber knew, but I knew I used the wrong type of love.
The more I was thinking about it, the more I decided I didn't actually mess it up. I want to know Him in an intimate way. I want to be able to say to Him "te amo." Don't you?
Te quiero,
<>< Katie
PS. The last part of our mission trip tradition will come to fruition on Sunday when I return to campus and take a window marker to Amber's car... dun, dun, dun. :-)
Oh, and by the way, where's the spell check button on the new blogger? Sorry!
Unlike in English, Spanish has multiple words for the word "love" and multiple ways to say, "I love you." When I first learned how to say "I love you" the teacher taught me "te amo," but I've since learned it's an intimate love typically only used between husband and wife. A better term to use on a daily basis is "te quiero" or more of a friendship love. I'm slowly working "te amo" out of my vocabulary and felt dumb when I said it in our prayer. Not really like Amber knew, but I knew I used the wrong type of love.
The more I was thinking about it, the more I decided I didn't actually mess it up. I want to know Him in an intimate way. I want to be able to say to Him "te amo." Don't you?
Te quiero,
<>< Katie
PS. The last part of our mission trip tradition will come to fruition on Sunday when I return to campus and take a window marker to Amber's car... dun, dun, dun. :-)
Oh, and by the way, where's the spell check button on the new blogger? Sorry!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Snow, Snow, Lots of snow
This is a monumental weekend. There is should be snow on the ground in all 50 states. When Andy told be that I didn't believe him, so I did some high-quality research and googled it. Andy's right. Apparently Florida is the only state without snow currently on the ground but it's forecasted. Even Hawaii has snow on the mountain tops!
One of our choir songs is by TobyMac talking about the entire world uniting as one. This weekend, our entire country is united under one white blanket. Why not unite and show kindness? We've got to start somewhere, why not here? We've got to start sometime, why not now? Show someone love tonight. Be compassionate. Share your snow.
<>< Katie
Winter weather conditions here: Not bad. Roads covered but not icy. Safe to drive if you know what you're doing. If you are brave enough to go out, we were seated immediately at Olive Garden on the Friday before Valentine's Day. The 24-hour Wal-mart, however, is closed, so I don't really see the need to leave the comfort of your own home (apartment/ dorm room). :-)
One of our choir songs is by TobyMac talking about the entire world uniting as one. This weekend, our entire country is united under one white blanket. Why not unite and show kindness? We've got to start somewhere, why not here? We've got to start sometime, why not now? Show someone love tonight. Be compassionate. Share your snow.
<>< Katie
Winter weather conditions here: Not bad. Roads covered but not icy. Safe to drive if you know what you're doing. If you are brave enough to go out, we were seated immediately at Olive Garden on the Friday before Valentine's Day. The 24-hour Wal-mart, however, is closed, so I don't really see the need to leave the comfort of your own home (apartment/ dorm room). :-)
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Keep Looking
When it comes to the blog, there's no real system for what I post. I know it's a shocker for "Don't touch it; I have a system" Katie to not have a method to this madness.
I do try to include a nice mix of God moments, this is what my crazy friends did this week, book reviews, and other random stories. I've had the last two well-covered this week, but I was thinking it's been awhile since I posted my last God moment.
First thing this morning, I decided I wanted to post a God moment today. Problem: that means I need to have a God moment today and God moments don't always come when you call. You have to go searching for them. So I've been looking...
In my dreams... nope, I dreamed about a hearing man complaining to me (in ASL) about the lack of closed captioning on certain television channels. Gosh my dream-life is exciting.
In my social life... My creative writing friend has strep throat and one of my suitemates has a staph infection. My life is filled with hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes, and vitamin C. God did not get my attention through disinfecting the door-knobs and light switches, sorry.
In my academic life... "What language am I supposed to be using now?" has been my motto for this week. Signing to people who speak Spanish doesn't work any better than speaking Spanish to deaf people. I've tried both.
In my free time... what's that?
Just because I've been searching for God and haven't heard from Him directly doesn't mean He's not here. Just because you can't see His hand in your daily life doesn't mean He's not there. He's there. Trust me: He's there. Keep looking. Keep praying. Keep listening. When He gets your attention, don't be shocked if it's not life shattering. While He can do ostentatious divine interventions, most of the times He's gotten my attention it's been through mundane, every day activities. He's with you in the crazy and in the daily.
<>< Katie
I do try to include a nice mix of God moments, this is what my crazy friends did this week, book reviews, and other random stories. I've had the last two well-covered this week, but I was thinking it's been awhile since I posted my last God moment.
First thing this morning, I decided I wanted to post a God moment today. Problem: that means I need to have a God moment today and God moments don't always come when you call. You have to go searching for them. So I've been looking...
In my dreams... nope, I dreamed about a hearing man complaining to me (in ASL) about the lack of closed captioning on certain television channels. Gosh my dream-life is exciting.
In my social life... My creative writing friend has strep throat and one of my suitemates has a staph infection. My life is filled with hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes, and vitamin C. God did not get my attention through disinfecting the door-knobs and light switches, sorry.
In my academic life... "What language am I supposed to be using now?" has been my motto for this week. Signing to people who speak Spanish doesn't work any better than speaking Spanish to deaf people. I've tried both.
In my free time... what's that?
Just because I've been searching for God and haven't heard from Him directly doesn't mean He's not here. Just because you can't see His hand in your daily life doesn't mean He's not there. He's there. Trust me: He's there. Keep looking. Keep praying. Keep listening. When He gets your attention, don't be shocked if it's not life shattering. While He can do ostentatious divine interventions, most of the times He's gotten my attention it's been through mundane, every day activities. He's with you in the crazy and in the daily.
<>< Katie
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Book Review: Orchid of the Bayou
While my friends were enjoying the snow, I was trying to devour Orchid of the Bayou: A Deaf Woman Faces Blindness by Cathryn Carroll and Catherine Hoffpauir Fischer. I'd heard good things about this book and was really excited to be able to read it for my ASL class.
Unfortunately, I was disappointed. Since the subtitle of the novel is "A deaf woman faces blindness" I thought it would be about, well, a deaf woman going blind. True, the first person protagonist has Usher Syndrome, the leading cause of deaf-blindness, but beyond some poorly-used foreshadowing, she doesn't address her visual problems until page 216 out of 253!
She spent two chapters, a total of about fifteen pages, talking about her narrowing field of vision. The entire rest of the book left me made me glad I'm a hockey fan because I'm good at screaming, "WHO CARES?!" Eventually, I stopped screaming it in my head and began to write it in the margins. At one point I even drew a box around the words "that's what she said" because reading those words in print was more exciting than whatever the "she" in the novel had said.
The book is not poorly written but the co-authors aren't wordsmiths either. Grammatical errors are few but hilarious nevertheless because they are mistakes those of us who can hear the English language can hear but the deaf cannot. Although, the book does include a plethora of useless fact detailing the lives of every single person the Kitty, the protagonist, encountered.
More than a deaf woman facing blindness like the title suggests, this novel tells the lifestory of your typical deaf woman. Sorry to take the Deaf way and be blunt. Diagnosed as mentally retarded, deaf, and dumb, Kitty Hoffpauir spent her childhood struggling to communicate with her family, learning to balance her residential school life with her home problems, and proving that "deaf" does not mean "dumb." Eventually she makes her way to the top of her class and is eligible to attend Gallaudet University (think Mecca for the deaf). Washington, DC creates a culture shock for this Acadian Southern deaf girl. Eventually she learns to embrace the multiculturalism that exists in her life and be content with who she is.
It is finally at this point in the book that she addresses her sight problems. She says, "I didn't mind being deaf. Although deafness took away hearing, it gave me community--and that community was based on sight" (232). A book detailing these challenges would have been more entertaining and appropriate with the title. Oh, well.
It was interesting to read her take on being deaf in a hearing family, being deaf and raising hearing children, watching deaf interact with each other, and the communication challenges she faced throughout life. I loved noticing how some of her family members were able to see beyond her deafness and understood her need for alternative communication while others preferred to force her to try and read lips or took to kicking her to obtain her attention.
Over all, I give this book a 2 out of 5. It could have been a 3.5 without the misleading subtitle. I think it's a good read for anyone who wants to know more about Deaf culture but don't expect a lot about deaf-blind or Usher Syndrome.
<>< Katie
Unfortunately, I was disappointed. Since the subtitle of the novel is "A deaf woman faces blindness" I thought it would be about, well, a deaf woman going blind. True, the first person protagonist has Usher Syndrome, the leading cause of deaf-blindness, but beyond some poorly-used foreshadowing, she doesn't address her visual problems until page 216 out of 253!
She spent two chapters, a total of about fifteen pages, talking about her narrowing field of vision. The entire rest of the book left me made me glad I'm a hockey fan because I'm good at screaming, "WHO CARES?!" Eventually, I stopped screaming it in my head and began to write it in the margins. At one point I even drew a box around the words "that's what she said" because reading those words in print was more exciting than whatever the "she" in the novel had said.
The book is not poorly written but the co-authors aren't wordsmiths either. Grammatical errors are few but hilarious nevertheless because they are mistakes those of us who can hear the English language can hear but the deaf cannot. Although, the book does include a plethora of useless fact detailing the lives of every single person the Kitty, the protagonist, encountered.
More than a deaf woman facing blindness like the title suggests, this novel tells the lifestory of your typical deaf woman. Sorry to take the Deaf way and be blunt. Diagnosed as mentally retarded, deaf, and dumb, Kitty Hoffpauir spent her childhood struggling to communicate with her family, learning to balance her residential school life with her home problems, and proving that "deaf" does not mean "dumb." Eventually she makes her way to the top of her class and is eligible to attend Gallaudet University (think Mecca for the deaf). Washington, DC creates a culture shock for this Acadian Southern deaf girl. Eventually she learns to embrace the multiculturalism that exists in her life and be content with who she is.
It is finally at this point in the book that she addresses her sight problems. She says, "I didn't mind being deaf. Although deafness took away hearing, it gave me community--and that community was based on sight" (232). A book detailing these challenges would have been more entertaining and appropriate with the title. Oh, well.
It was interesting to read her take on being deaf in a hearing family, being deaf and raising hearing children, watching deaf interact with each other, and the communication challenges she faced throughout life. I loved noticing how some of her family members were able to see beyond her deafness and understood her need for alternative communication while others preferred to force her to try and read lips or took to kicking her to obtain her attention.
Over all, I give this book a 2 out of 5. It could have been a 3.5 without the misleading subtitle. I think it's a good read for anyone who wants to know more about Deaf culture but don't expect a lot about deaf-blind or Usher Syndrome.
<>< 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.
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
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
Monday, January 18, 2010
Exercise
Gosh, I love Mondays. Hear the sarcasm. My first class starts at 9am and my last class ends at 9:50pm. Yes, please pray fr me on Mondays especially. This is relational exercise in patience.
I knew it was going to be a weird day in my ASL class this morning. We were talking about different shapes and the professor signed, "KNOW MEDICAL DOCTOR SERVE HAMBURGER CIRCLE IN BOX." Huh? Must have zoned out because that didn't make sense. Yeah, it was "McDonalds" not "Doctor." Both signed "MD" with one on the back of the hand and the other on the inside of the wrist. Oops. Wrong me. Mental exercise.
This afternoon, I was sitting in my hammock reading about poetry. My favorite thing. More sarcasm. It's no wonder I couldn't focus. So, I looked across my room and noticed my bike. Let's go for a bike ride! Ladies and gentlemen, it is JANUARY and I went for a bike ride without my jacket. The terrain here is different than I'm used to and I'm completely out of shape, but even my short bike ride was enough to get some exercise, clear my brain, and enjoy the wonderful weather.
One of my suitemates is currently taking violin for the first time. Back in the day, I used to play viola. Not well, mind you, but I played never the less. Everyone took a turn trying to play her violin and everyone sounded awful. Sorry, girls. When it was my turn, I played an old simple song I remembered and jaws dropped. I remind you, I am not a good violist, but it was great to have a stringed instrument in my hands again. Excellent exercise for my fingers and my brain.
Part one of my Christmas present arrived in the mail today, our Wii. I call it the "you and your suitemates aren't good enough at killing time" gift. It was later followed by a Wii Fit, the "you need to lose weight" aspect of the gift. Huh? The Wii Fit isn't here yet but my shoulder hurts from bowling and tennis. More physical exercise.
However, the most challenging exercise happened in my night class. This is the first time we've met, but the professor has had all of us as his students previously. Prior to even handing out the syllabus, he stated a vague situation and gave us an hour to respond to it privately. This was an excellent writing exercise in my religion class, and I might post what I wrote tomorrow. Really, it was a masked-exercise in discovering Christology. However, it was hard! An emotional and spiritual battle. At the end of class, the professor apologized for "any tear and sweat this may have caused." It caused both. Spiritual and emotional exercise.
Are you in shape? Relationally? Emotionally? Physically? Mentally? Most importantly, spiritually?
<>< Katie
PS: Yes, I realize this was kind of a "I had peanut butter on my bagel instead of cream cheese" post and no one really cares, but it was just a very interesting day and I think you should hear about it. I tried to tie it together. Oh, and I don't really believe the Wii Fit joke aspect of the Christmas present, by the way.
I knew it was going to be a weird day in my ASL class this morning. We were talking about different shapes and the professor signed, "KNOW MEDICAL DOCTOR SERVE HAMBURGER CIRCLE IN BOX." Huh? Must have zoned out because that didn't make sense. Yeah, it was "McDonalds" not "Doctor." Both signed "MD" with one on the back of the hand and the other on the inside of the wrist. Oops. Wrong me. Mental exercise.
This afternoon, I was sitting in my hammock reading about poetry. My favorite thing. More sarcasm. It's no wonder I couldn't focus. So, I looked across my room and noticed my bike. Let's go for a bike ride! Ladies and gentlemen, it is JANUARY and I went for a bike ride without my jacket. The terrain here is different than I'm used to and I'm completely out of shape, but even my short bike ride was enough to get some exercise, clear my brain, and enjoy the wonderful weather.
One of my suitemates is currently taking violin for the first time. Back in the day, I used to play viola. Not well, mind you, but I played never the less. Everyone took a turn trying to play her violin and everyone sounded awful. Sorry, girls. When it was my turn, I played an old simple song I remembered and jaws dropped. I remind you, I am not a good violist, but it was great to have a stringed instrument in my hands again. Excellent exercise for my fingers and my brain.
Part one of my Christmas present arrived in the mail today, our Wii. I call it the "you and your suitemates aren't good enough at killing time" gift. It was later followed by a Wii Fit, the "you need to lose weight" aspect of the gift. Huh? The Wii Fit isn't here yet but my shoulder hurts from bowling and tennis. More physical exercise.
However, the most challenging exercise happened in my night class. This is the first time we've met, but the professor has had all of us as his students previously. Prior to even handing out the syllabus, he stated a vague situation and gave us an hour to respond to it privately. This was an excellent writing exercise in my religion class, and I might post what I wrote tomorrow. Really, it was a masked-exercise in discovering Christology. However, it was hard! An emotional and spiritual battle. At the end of class, the professor apologized for "any tear and sweat this may have caused." It caused both. Spiritual and emotional exercise.
Are you in shape? Relationally? Emotionally? Physically? Mentally? Most importantly, spiritually?
<>< Katie
PS: Yes, I realize this was kind of a "I had peanut butter on my bagel instead of cream cheese" post and no one really cares, but it was just a very interesting day and I think you should hear about it. I tried to tie it together. Oh, and I don't really believe the Wii Fit joke aspect of the Christmas present, by the way.
Monday, December 21, 2009
What is Worship
I'm scrapbooking my Guatemala trip right now, and I realized I never blogged much about it (see March and April for the few stories I shared). This is an excerpt of my journal from March regarding a lesson I learned again in July and again last week. I guess we could call this my theme for the year since apparently I haven't fully grasped it yet. This was our last night in Guatemala after we'd said good-bye to the children:
"In group devotion, we read Psalm 139. It was perfect for our saddened hearts after saying 'Good-bye.' We also sang a few songs (in English). I did sing for awhile* otherwise I didn't focus. I always feel weird not singing. I feel like I'm not focused/ unenthusiastic, etc. I think that's because I judge those who aren't singing. Another thing I've learned on this trip: it's ok to be silent and listen. That sounds like something I've been taught again and again, but it was reinforced today. Singing your heart out and praising God with your hands is not the only way to worship. It is just as much worship if you sit still and allow Him to move. It's worship by looking at His beautiful creation. Worship is painting a building. Worship is tediously cleaning a paint tray... twice. Worship is everything you do if you do it for God and to the best of your ability. Worship is sitting around a cement table with a few friends, freezing cold, looking at the starts, being amazed by the city/ mountain views, and reminiscing about the week."
<>< Katie
*This was during the time when I was forbidden to sing and sign. Click here for the full story.
"In group devotion, we read Psalm 139. It was perfect for our saddened hearts after saying 'Good-bye.' We also sang a few songs (in English). I did sing for awhile* otherwise I didn't focus. I always feel weird not singing. I feel like I'm not focused/ unenthusiastic, etc. I think that's because I judge those who aren't singing. Another thing I've learned on this trip: it's ok to be silent and listen. That sounds like something I've been taught again and again, but it was reinforced today. Singing your heart out and praising God with your hands is not the only way to worship. It is just as much worship if you sit still and allow Him to move. It's worship by looking at His beautiful creation. Worship is painting a building. Worship is tediously cleaning a paint tray... twice. Worship is everything you do if you do it for God and to the best of your ability. Worship is sitting around a cement table with a few friends, freezing cold, looking at the starts, being amazed by the city/ mountain views, and reminiscing about the week."
<>< Katie
*This was during the time when I was forbidden to sing and sign. Click here for the full story.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Change
Sorry! I've been a slacker blogger. I get paid to blog twice a week on a different site, so it's hard to keep both blogs up to date. That's not to say that I haven't thought about stuff to put here... I just haven't developed thoughts enough to put them into writing. The "good thoughts" or "thoughts worth pondering more" have been few and far between. Perhaps it's because I'm stressed to the max. Perhaps it's because this book review is consuming my life (read Social Construction: Entering the Dialogue by Ken and Mary Gergen and expect to have your world turned on its head). Perhaps it's that I've grown lazy. Perhaps it's because a lot of my friends have put amazing thoughts into words that I don't feel like mine compare. Perhaps it's a combination of them all.
With that said, here are some rough thoughts to ponder. I'm developing this blog as I write it, so don't expect me to have all of the answers figured out and the loose ends tied in a pretty bow.
Theological debates aside, I'm not a big fan of altar calls primarily because it leaves those of us who already know Christ sitting there uncomfortably while those "new believers" head to the front of the congregation. Sometimes I also feel like preachers who end with altar call are just pushing an agenda: get people into heaven. Just a reminder, the Bible doesn't say "make converts;" it says, "Make disciples." Sorry, I said theological debates aside so I'll stay focused here even though I've seen three or four different tangents peruse.
Last night, I was at a worship service with an altar call. Yes, I felt like the preacher was pushing his goal of making converts. As he stood on stage, he made every single one of us in the congregation nod or shake our heads to simple questions such as: do you know Christ? Does Christ have control of your life? And stuff like that. By the time he got to where I was sitting in the back, I was starting to get annoyed. That's when it hit me. Perhaps I'm not giving me life to Christ for the first time (or second or fifteenth) but that doesn't mean He and I have everything right. When the speaker said to the new believers, "Are you willing to change?" It hit me. As we say in ASL, HEART PIERCE! Are you willing to change? Really, it's not a one-time change. It's a continuous, life-long process. Change. Not fun. Not easy. Not avoidable. Change. It must happen.
Are you willing to change? Maybe you're not throwing off the ways of this world and submitting your life to Christ, but that doesn't mean you can't change. Are you willing to change? Are you willing to spend more time with Him? Are you willing to wait? Are you willing to unite with your brothers and sisters in Christ around the world? Are you willing to change?
I am.
<>< Katie
With that said, here are some rough thoughts to ponder. I'm developing this blog as I write it, so don't expect me to have all of the answers figured out and the loose ends tied in a pretty bow.
Theological debates aside, I'm not a big fan of altar calls primarily because it leaves those of us who already know Christ sitting there uncomfortably while those "new believers" head to the front of the congregation. Sometimes I also feel like preachers who end with altar call are just pushing an agenda: get people into heaven. Just a reminder, the Bible doesn't say "make converts;" it says, "Make disciples." Sorry, I said theological debates aside so I'll stay focused here even though I've seen three or four different tangents peruse.
Last night, I was at a worship service with an altar call. Yes, I felt like the preacher was pushing his goal of making converts. As he stood on stage, he made every single one of us in the congregation nod or shake our heads to simple questions such as: do you know Christ? Does Christ have control of your life? And stuff like that. By the time he got to where I was sitting in the back, I was starting to get annoyed. That's when it hit me. Perhaps I'm not giving me life to Christ for the first time (or second or fifteenth) but that doesn't mean He and I have everything right. When the speaker said to the new believers, "Are you willing to change?" It hit me. As we say in ASL, HEART PIERCE! Are you willing to change? Really, it's not a one-time change. It's a continuous, life-long process. Change. Not fun. Not easy. Not avoidable. Change. It must happen.
Are you willing to change? Maybe you're not throwing off the ways of this world and submitting your life to Christ, but that doesn't mean you can't change. Are you willing to change? Are you willing to spend more time with Him? Are you willing to wait? Are you willing to unite with your brothers and sisters in Christ around the world? Are you willing to change?
I am.
<>< Katie
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Hand Talk
I went home for Easter and got my hair cut the first morning I was there. While I was getting used to the new length, I was seeing people who hadn't seen me in four months therefore would not notice my hair. Now that I'm used to it, I'm back with people who see me everyday and notice my hair is different. It's a bit weird.
Yesterday I ate dinner with my deaf friend, Renee. While we were sitting there, my friend Kevin walked by and noticed my new haircut. Unfortunately, Kevin doesn't understand "hand talk" (that's what he calls ASL). Kevin used hand gestures to indicate short hair before adding a thumbs up. Obviously, I'm not deaf, so Kevin could have just quickly voiced that he like my hair cut before moving on, yet he didn't. He was respectful to Renee to communicated the best he could with "hand talk".
Normally when we see things we don't know, we shy away from the situation and are uncomfortable. Kevin could have told me later that he noticed my hair, or he could have ignored me all together. He could have voiced his idea. He had plenty of other options, but he opted to do his best and communicate with me in a way that was fair for me and for Renee.
To borrow Neal's words, "Go do the best you can for Jesus. Even if you have to go slowly. Do it for Him."
<>< Katie
Yesterday I ate dinner with my deaf friend, Renee. While we were sitting there, my friend Kevin walked by and noticed my new haircut. Unfortunately, Kevin doesn't understand "hand talk" (that's what he calls ASL). Kevin used hand gestures to indicate short hair before adding a thumbs up. Obviously, I'm not deaf, so Kevin could have just quickly voiced that he like my hair cut before moving on, yet he didn't. He was respectful to Renee to communicated the best he could with "hand talk".
Normally when we see things we don't know, we shy away from the situation and are uncomfortable. Kevin could have told me later that he noticed my hair, or he could have ignored me all together. He could have voiced his idea. He had plenty of other options, but he opted to do his best and communicate with me in a way that was fair for me and for Renee.
To borrow Neal's words, "Go do the best you can for Jesus. Even if you have to go slowly. Do it for Him."
<>< Katie
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Song of the Sick
Well, it's official: I have the cold that's going around. Despite washing my hands incessantly and drinking a case of water (and then some) in four days (approximately 13 liters), I am sick. I wonder if orthodontists know that translucent sheath retainers make it almost impossible to breathe.
When I get sick, it attacks my speaking voice first followed by my singing voice. Even though I've sounded like crap all day, I was able to sing to God tonight and actually keep the song in the right key! It was an amazing miracle!
By the end of night, my singing voice was going quickly and I started squoaking. Well, go figure the next song was "Praise You In This Storm" by Casting Crowns. My sign choir did this song last year, so when my voice disappeared, I praised God with my hands.
Lord, God, I give You all that I have. I will praise You will all that I have. Whether You take those abilities away from me or not, I will praise You!
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever." Psalm 86:12
When I get sick, it attacks my speaking voice first followed by my singing voice. Even though I've sounded like crap all day, I was able to sing to God tonight and actually keep the song in the right key! It was an amazing miracle!
By the end of night, my singing voice was going quickly and I started squoaking. Well, go figure the next song was "Praise You In This Storm" by Casting Crowns. My sign choir did this song last year, so when my voice disappeared, I praised God with my hands.
Lord, God, I give You all that I have. I will praise You will all that I have. Whether You take those abilities away from me or not, I will praise You!
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever." Psalm 86:12
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