Lost In His Will

I enjoy getting lost.

Sometimes in my car, but more often when I'm on foot (and it's not cold outside).

Over Christmas break, I spent four days getting lost in Rochester, Minnesota.  My only goal for my four days there was to get lost (and un-lost) in the Mayo Clinic without getting locked in or needing my jacket (aka going outside).  If you've never been to Mayo, you may not understand the vastness of the clinic.  It pretty much covers the whole town and is connected by underground pedestrian subways.  It's huge!

In my getting lost, I walked towards beautiful architecture and away from anatomically-correct statues.  I didn't stop for directions, didn't stop to wonder if I was allowed to be where I was, and didn't carry a map.  I wasn't bothered by dead-ends, told myself elevators were cheating, and read every sign (a dangerous thing to do in a clinic).  It was so much fun!

I want to get lost in life.  Lost in God's will.  I want to be content without a map.  I want to enjoy the journey rather than take the elevator and race to the top.  I want to be comforted with His directions and read every sign along the way.

"Do you need directions?" The man asked as I glanced down my three hallway choices.  Each a white tunnel in your perfect, stereotypical intersection.

"No, I'm just wandering," I said.

"Well, then you're in a good place because you can go just about anywhere from here."

That is where I am in the pedestrian subway that is life.  I'm at an intersection where I can go any way from here.  I know that in any path, God will use me where I am.  Yet, still, the decision of which path to choose is incredible difficult.

When lost in Rochester, I trusted that there was a way back to my hotel that did not require a jacket/ going outside.  I would not have to leave Mayo property to get back home.  Likewise, I trust that there is a way heaven-home that does not require stepping out of the will of God.  As long as I keep walking, He'll continue to show me the way.  And maybe I'll run into beautiful things along the way.

I want to get lost in His Will,
<>< Katie

PS: Here are some photos from my exploring Mayo.

(Isn't that the most beautiful Barnes & Noble ever?)

Blue

I don't know if it is like this on all college campuses, but here you cannot spend time on campus without having at least one story about our housekeeping staff. The housekeepers LOVE to talk. Perhaps that's an understatement. They will start up conversation with anyone and everyone. Last year, a trip to the bathroom that should have taken eight steps took forty-five minutes because Miss Jessie caught me and I was without a good exit excuse.

Now that I no longer live in the dorms, I am no longer forced to interact with them as frequently as I once did. However, I still see them around campus. Just yesterday, Miss Anna had no problem interpreting my prayer to tell me about how she working double shift in order to attend the funeral of former housekeeper the next day. I figure God wouldn't mind if I spent five minutes talking to her while she changed the garbage bag in the prayer room.

Except that they're long winded, Miss Jessie and Miss Patty never have bothered me because I can understand them. It's the older women like Miss Rose and Miss Joy that make me nervous because they have the thickest accents I have ever heard. With Miss Rose, my motto has always been smile and nod politely as she tells me all of the gossip for the week.

With Miss Joy, smile and nod doesn't work. In the words of one of my professors, "Miss Joy was a housekeeper for almost a million years, so when she retired they invited her to audit any classes she wants. As I'm sure you've noticed, that means she sleeps through them all."

When she'd speak up in class, all eight of us (including the professor) would listen intently trying to hack through her deep drawl and old age to formulate some comprehensible statement and interpret it for the rest of the class. I could understand maybe three words every fifteen.

Since then, she's gotten older and her health has deteriorated taking some of her verbal skills with it. This means if I could understand one word before I can't understand anything now. That's a problem because like all of our other housekeepers, Miss Joy loves to talk. I knew I was in trouble when I spotted her sitting outside the cafeteria after dinner tonight.

"Good evening, Miss Joy," I said. There was no way around it; I had to acknowledge her presence.

"Hello. Slkjadansdmasd," she responded.

"Excuse me?"

"I like your blue coat."

"Thank you," I said. It's purple, I thought to myself. Everything I own is purple; Wonder Jacket is no exception. Poor Wonder Jacket is often confused to be blue and now she's feeling blue because of it (I just decided that if my coat has a name it should have feelings, too). Instead of correcting Miss Joy, I let it go.

"Yes, I think blue is your color."

"Thank you very much," I said trying to appear flattered as I walked away insulted.

BLUE?! My color? No you didn't! Purple is my color! A quick glance around my room confirms this. From my desk I see the following purple items: two backpacks, two Nalgenes, two blankets, four pens, my watch, post-it notes, tennis shoes, slippers, a purse, a hammock... Today even my sweater and socks are purple! My world is purple.

Blue is not my color.

See the blue? There's not much of it: blue books, blue pen (professors prefer blue to purple; why is that?), blue jump drive, blue tissue box (only because Wal-mart was out of purple), blue jeans, blue hand... No, not mine. Well, yes mine. It's made from paper and hanging on the wall above my desk. It's my reminder to see the blue.

In 2008, Peder Eide released a CD entitled See the Blue. The whole idea is that blue is everywhere around us but if we're not looking for it we don't see it. Likewise, God is everywhere around us but if we're not looking for Him we don't see Him.

Even though she insulted my jacket and me, Miss Joy reminded me to see the blue, to open my eyes and see God. Thank you! Maybe I will hold the door for you again.

View the Blue,
<>< Katie

Chilling Conversation

I wrote one of these awhile ago and everyone begged me to do another one. Well, they're incredibly difficult to write because they're very personal. This was yesterday morning when I returned to me seat following communion. I bowed my head and was hit in the face.
<>< Katie

Katie
God

Oh my gosh it's frigid in here! It's Christmastime; why is the air conditioner still on?
Hey, you're the smart one that sat in the same seat twice in one week. Didn't you learn on Christmas Eve?
I feel like I'm sitting in a wind tunnel!
At least you can feel.
Not helping.
I'm serious. Your friend with Lyme disease's body doesn't control temperature correctly. Yours does.
But I'm always cold. I'm already wearing a sweater and long pants. I can't put much more on.

You have a coat.
Then it won't do me an good when I go outside. Have You noticed it's 16 degrees outside, Mr. I Control the Weather?
I have noticed.
Did You also notice I don't have any gloves?
You have gloves.

No, I don't! They're at home in the dryer because they were germy. What a day to wash my gloves!
That's My point. You have gloves... a plethora of gloves. A red pair in your peacoat, a blue pair that belong in Wonder Jacket but are in the dryer right now, a purple pair for texting, a black pair for skiing... Katie, you even have a pair of gloves you wear around the house.
But my hands are still chapped and cracked. All of those gloves aren't doing me any good right now!
But you have gloves. Remember the mitten tree in the atrium? Those kids are getting their one and only pair of gloves.
The mitten tree! That's a good idea! Maybe I'll borrow a pair for the day.
I can turn up the AC if you'd like.
No, thanks. Heat would be nice right about now.
Not until you realize what you do have... a working body--
Minus the spontaneous bleeding of my hands.
You have gloves, your choice of jackets, and think about all of the miscellaneous items stored in Wonder Jacket.

There aren't any gloves in Wonder Jacket right now, I already looked.
No, they're not home being washed. Not because they were dirty but because you think they're full of germs.
They were!
Do you used the washing machine, which you have.

Having a washing machine isn't preventing me from turning into an ice cube right now. You know those cartoons were people are frozen in solid blocks of ice? That's what going to happen here today.

No, it won't. I'll make sure it doesn't happen, but I want you to forget about being cold and just listen. I know that's hard for you but try. For Me?

Ok... fine...