I've always struggled with fear of rejection. Part of it comes from eight long years of middle and high school feeling like an outcast.
But overcoming the fear of rejection is more than having a place saved for you at the lunch table. More than hearing the words, "Katie, we'd love for you to live in our apartment." More than, "Will you go to the dance with me?"
It also involves a graduate school saying, "We see potential in her and want to grow her." It's an employer saying, "We want her on our team!" It's someone, anyone, saying "I believe in you."
Fear of rejection is still very real in my life, even if my name is shouted joyously when I enter the caf. It still has a bigger hold than I'd care to admit, a bigger hold than I thought it did six months ago.
But in Christ I've found someone who says, "I believe in you." I've found acceptance. And it comes from the Creator of the Universe. What more can one want?
Maybe I don't know what comes after China, but I am slowly learning to say, "It's going to be alright." And do you know why?
Because God IS good. ALL the time.
Even when it's hard to believe. Even when you get seven rejections in five months. Even when the world says, "She's not good enough." Even when you're alone at the lunch table.
Showing posts with label apartment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apartment. Show all posts
Friday, July 15, 2011
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Perfect Timing
A few years ago at an outdoor music festival, I heard Peter Fuller (then the lead-singer of Newsboys) talk about God's perfect timing. In the middle of his statement about how perfect God's timing is, a train horn sounded in near proximity. The entire audience errupted in laughter. In his heavy Australian accent he looked at us and said, "A train interrupts my concert and you laugh?"
Well, God's perfect timing struck again and there was only nervous laughter.
I'd just gotten out of class at 10pm and was driving back to my apartment from the library. As I approached the stoplight I noticed a car cross the intersection and instinctively slowed down to stop at the white line. It was only then that I glanced up and noticed I had the green light. Maybe there was a malfunction? No, the other car definitely had a red light.
I made a quick glance around for:
Police officers. None. What are the odds?
Other cars. None. Thank goodness.
A green light. Go ahead.
At first, I didn't really think much of it. We all accidently run red lights from time to time. Not a big deal. Besides, it was late, and he probably got sick of waiting for the light to change. I was the only other car around. It wasn't until I was back in the safety of my apartment that I truly realized what had just happened.
Rewind. When I pulled out of my parking space, there was an exit to the left (the direction I needed to go) not far from where I was parked. Instead, I drove an extra thirty seconds, out of my way, to the right exit. Why? I don't know. I guess I just wasn't paying attention. It was 10pm! I'd just gotten out of my last class. Twelve hours earlier, I'd been dismissed from my first class of the day. Yes, one of those days.
It wasn't just because I was tired. It was because if I'd been to the stop light thirty second earlier... well, crash boom bash. We know this story. Been there done that. Unlike last time, this car wasn't starting from a stopped position. He was going and going fast. That could have been a really bad end to a long day.
I cannot take credit for avoiding that collision. I didn't do anything except absent-mindedly leave the parking lot. It was God who perfectly positioned and timed our cars for this to be only a "thanks, God" rather than a "help, God!"
Had any close calls lately? Whether you're aware of them or not, they've happened. Take a minute to thank Him for His perfect timing and arms of protection.
<>< Katie
Well, God's perfect timing struck again and there was only nervous laughter.
I'd just gotten out of class at 10pm and was driving back to my apartment from the library. As I approached the stoplight I noticed a car cross the intersection and instinctively slowed down to stop at the white line. It was only then that I glanced up and noticed I had the green light. Maybe there was a malfunction? No, the other car definitely had a red light.
I made a quick glance around for:
Police officers. None. What are the odds?
Other cars. None. Thank goodness.
A green light. Go ahead.
At first, I didn't really think much of it. We all accidently run red lights from time to time. Not a big deal. Besides, it was late, and he probably got sick of waiting for the light to change. I was the only other car around. It wasn't until I was back in the safety of my apartment that I truly realized what had just happened.
Rewind. When I pulled out of my parking space, there was an exit to the left (the direction I needed to go) not far from where I was parked. Instead, I drove an extra thirty seconds, out of my way, to the right exit. Why? I don't know. I guess I just wasn't paying attention. It was 10pm! I'd just gotten out of my last class. Twelve hours earlier, I'd been dismissed from my first class of the day. Yes, one of those days.
It wasn't just because I was tired. It was because if I'd been to the stop light thirty second earlier... well, crash boom bash. We know this story. Been there done that. Unlike last time, this car wasn't starting from a stopped position. He was going and going fast. That could have been a really bad end to a long day.
I cannot take credit for avoiding that collision. I didn't do anything except absent-mindedly leave the parking lot. It was God who perfectly positioned and timed our cars for this to be only a "thanks, God" rather than a "help, God!"
Had any close calls lately? Whether you're aware of them or not, they've happened. Take a minute to thank Him for His perfect timing and arms of protection.
<>< Katie
Monday, August 23, 2010
Chopper One Sighting
One evening after dinner there was a knock on the door. Most people just walk into our apartment, but if someone knocks those who don't live here often answer the door. This time Nikki got it and standing outside was a middle-aged man.
Before I tell you about him, let me tell you about my apartment. We're a brand new building that is still considered to be on campus, but we're out in the boonies. A large parking lot separates us from the nearest building. My front window view is a cliff with a road at the bottom of it and woods across the street. More woods on our left, and behind us is a huge red field that will someday house more buildings but for now will be the home of our own Mud Fest.
The middle-aged men that darken our doorstep are our fathers and the maintenance men. This particular man was neither.
"I'm the father of a girl in the apartment across the hall. Do you have internet? She doesn't either. I just want to take a quick peak in the closet at your wireless hook-up."
Across the room and out of eye sight, I shot a "What the heck does he think he's doing?" look at Adam.
"We were told the internet can't be hooked up until the building is complete. Even though we're living in it the building can't be officially declared complete until the cable company comes back," Nikki explained.
"You see, that's not true," he said. "You guys can't live without internet."
If there was sarcasm in his voice, I did not hear it. He also never gave his name, but Adam said he had a school employee ID.
If I was suspicious before, I was upset now. My desire for internet was overpowered by my desire for that father to let his daughter go unplugged. It was one night for goodness sake! The rest of us had been internet-less for literally a week, and we were still alive. Gasp!
I'm glad I didn't answer the door. I might have said something like this: Sir, if you work here, check it out in the morning. Don't go around the building at night and explore the internet hook-up. Don't teach your daughter that you can fix everything instantly. She's 18 not 8! (OK, I would not have really said that, but I thought it).
Honestly, my heart broke for her. You see, I know what it's like to go to school where your parents work. For nine years I shared a building with two student-sisters, a teacher-mother, and an administrator father. It was not unusual for someone to see all five of us in one day. Even now, I go back and nobody asks me what I'm doing. They already know; Mom told them.
To the girl who I've not even met yet, I am sorry you chose a school where your parent(s) work. I've been there. I'm sorry you have a hovering Helicopter Parent. I have two. Come on over. We'll swap stories.
Dear Mr. Creepy Man/Helicopter Father, thank you for trying to fix our internet. We really do appreciate your (failed) effort. Now, it's 9pm and your daughter's first night away at school. Let her make some friends and enjoy herself without you here. It's actually better if her computer doesn't work, so she's not in front of the screen all night long. Oh, and, yes, we can live without internet.
Thank you for letting me rant. As always, thoughts welcome.
<>< Katie
Before I tell you about him, let me tell you about my apartment. We're a brand new building that is still considered to be on campus, but we're out in the boonies. A large parking lot separates us from the nearest building. My front window view is a cliff with a road at the bottom of it and woods across the street. More woods on our left, and behind us is a huge red field that will someday house more buildings but for now will be the home of our own Mud Fest.
The middle-aged men that darken our doorstep are our fathers and the maintenance men. This particular man was neither.
"I'm the father of a girl in the apartment across the hall. Do you have internet? She doesn't either. I just want to take a quick peak in the closet at your wireless hook-up."
Across the room and out of eye sight, I shot a "What the heck does he think he's doing?" look at Adam.
"We were told the internet can't be hooked up until the building is complete. Even though we're living in it the building can't be officially declared complete until the cable company comes back," Nikki explained.
"You see, that's not true," he said. "You guys can't live without internet."
If there was sarcasm in his voice, I did not hear it. He also never gave his name, but Adam said he had a school employee ID.
If I was suspicious before, I was upset now. My desire for internet was overpowered by my desire for that father to let his daughter go unplugged. It was one night for goodness sake! The rest of us had been internet-less for literally a week, and we were still alive. Gasp!
I'm glad I didn't answer the door. I might have said something like this: Sir, if you work here, check it out in the morning. Don't go around the building at night and explore the internet hook-up. Don't teach your daughter that you can fix everything instantly. She's 18 not 8! (OK, I would not have really said that, but I thought it).
Honestly, my heart broke for her. You see, I know what it's like to go to school where your parents work. For nine years I shared a building with two student-sisters, a teacher-mother, and an administrator father. It was not unusual for someone to see all five of us in one day. Even now, I go back and nobody asks me what I'm doing. They already know; Mom told them.
To the girl who I've not even met yet, I am sorry you chose a school where your parent(s) work. I've been there. I'm sorry you have a hovering Helicopter Parent. I have two. Come on over. We'll swap stories.
Dear Mr. Creepy Man/Helicopter Father, thank you for trying to fix our internet. We really do appreciate your (failed) effort. Now, it's 9pm and your daughter's first night away at school. Let her make some friends and enjoy herself without you here. It's actually better if her computer doesn't work, so she's not in front of the screen all night long. Oh, and, yes, we can live without internet.
Thank you for letting me rant. As always, thoughts welcome.
<>< Katie
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sweet Suitemates
Reason number 5,602 why I love my suitemates
Yesterday in the car in the Sonic parking lot:
"Amy, do you want hand sanitizer?" Nikki asked.
"No, I'm good," Amy responded.
"Amy's going to get swine flu," I taunted. Swine flu doesn't scare me. Seven people living in close quarters, and one of them being sick scares me.
"Nikki," Amy said giving me a dirty look, "Can I have the hand sanitizer?"
Two minutes later:
"Does anyone care if I drive while eating my burger?" Elizabeth asked. "Katie?"
"As long as you're still safe," I told her. Gosh, they know me too well. :-)
Ten minutes later:
"Anyone want my last cheese stick?" Nikki asked the car. "They're just too big to shove in the last one. The last fry, no problem, but that last cheese stick is too heavy."
"I'll take it. I was watching you eat them before thinking about how good they looked, but I wasn't going to ask for on because you only get like six, so it's perfect that you offered the last one," I said smiling as I ate a mozzarella stick.
"How perfect. Oh, and you shouldn't have been afraid to ask me for the cheese stick because I love you more than I love cheese sticks. And you love cheese."
"Yeah, and I need to watch how much cheese I eat."
"We'll get you some fiber cereal, too."
Thanks, girls.
Reason Number 5,603
Today Allyson and I walked out of our bedrooms at the same time and smiled at each other across the kitchen. Her hand was in the air and she was kind of posed. Most girls probably would have snapped her hand down quickly and turned red, embarrassed she was just caught. Not Allyson. For the next ten minutes, she and I danced around the living room to "Desert Song" by Hillsong.
Reason Number 5,604
We cleaned together today. Sounds pretty basic but for an hour this afternoon our apartment was a cleaning machine! It needed to be done, and six of us were around to do it (Amy was exempt because she was home for the weekend). We've kind of envisioned Sunday afternoon cleaning as a suite but in the six months we've lived together it had yet to come to fruition. Today it finally did! Most of us just did the chores that we enjoy, but some of us did chores we don't like (yay, Eizabeth!). We listened to each other, got out of each others' way, and even organized the honkin' huge closet.
"Let me know if I'm in your way."
"No, you let ME know if I'm in YOUR way."
Reason number 5,605
My suitemates are currently licking all of the silverware and putting it back in the drawer just so I have to rewash everything before I eat here again.
Yesterday in the car in the Sonic parking lot:
"Amy, do you want hand sanitizer?" Nikki asked.
"No, I'm good," Amy responded.
"Amy's going to get swine flu," I taunted. Swine flu doesn't scare me. Seven people living in close quarters, and one of them being sick scares me.
"Nikki," Amy said giving me a dirty look, "Can I have the hand sanitizer?"
Two minutes later:
"Does anyone care if I drive while eating my burger?" Elizabeth asked. "Katie?"
"As long as you're still safe," I told her. Gosh, they know me too well. :-)
Ten minutes later:
"Anyone want my last cheese stick?" Nikki asked the car. "They're just too big to shove in the last one. The last fry, no problem, but that last cheese stick is too heavy."
"I'll take it. I was watching you eat them before thinking about how good they looked, but I wasn't going to ask for on because you only get like six, so it's perfect that you offered the last one," I said smiling as I ate a mozzarella stick.
"How perfect. Oh, and you shouldn't have been afraid to ask me for the cheese stick because I love you more than I love cheese sticks. And you love cheese."
"Yeah, and I need to watch how much cheese I eat."
"We'll get you some fiber cereal, too."
Thanks, girls.
Reason Number 5,603
Today Allyson and I walked out of our bedrooms at the same time and smiled at each other across the kitchen. Her hand was in the air and she was kind of posed. Most girls probably would have snapped her hand down quickly and turned red, embarrassed she was just caught. Not Allyson. For the next ten minutes, she and I danced around the living room to "Desert Song" by Hillsong.
Reason Number 5,604
We cleaned together today. Sounds pretty basic but for an hour this afternoon our apartment was a cleaning machine! It needed to be done, and six of us were around to do it (Amy was exempt because she was home for the weekend). We've kind of envisioned Sunday afternoon cleaning as a suite but in the six months we've lived together it had yet to come to fruition. Today it finally did! Most of us just did the chores that we enjoy, but some of us did chores we don't like (yay, Eizabeth!). We listened to each other, got out of each others' way, and even organized the honkin' huge closet.
"Let me know if I'm in your way."
"No, you let ME know if I'm in YOUR way."
God's placed some great girls in this apartment, and I feel incredibly blessed.
<>< KatieReason number 5,605
My suitemates are currently licking all of the silverware and putting it back in the drawer just so I have to rewash everything before I eat here again.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Door Decks
Last night at 11:30pm when I sat down to blog, no words were here, and I wanted to be in bed in the next half-hour. I'd had a plethora of ideas throughout the day, but they had all vanished. Instead of blogging, I spent the last half hour of my day talking to my sweet suitemates. Sorry, few faithful readers.
Yesterday was Tony's birthday, and I felt it necessary to give him a birthday blog. The problem is that I don't really have a lot of stories about Tony (except the time he got bit by a squirrel but I've already written about that). This morning we were both in the computer lab at the same time and he laughed as he asked me how many blogs I have. Only two: a personal blog and a work/school blog.
This semester, Tony is my RA. This means he's responsible for making our door-decks (aka name tags for the door). Several of the girls in my apartment don't go by their proper names. Well, our door-decks all say our proper names. Tony knows us and should have known to change the names. So we were giving him a hard time about it.
"Ok, listen," he said. "Keith was there when I was making the door-decks, and when I said, 'Which name should I use?' He got this devious look on his face and kind of laughed--"
"Are we ready to go to dinner?" Keith asked bursting in to our apartment in the middle of Tony's story. All of our eyes darted from Tony to Keith. Drama Queen Keith figured out what story was being told, grunted, and stormed out of the apartment.
"KEITH!" We screamed, running after him to take our anger out on him instead of Tony. Love you, Keith.
Happy birthday, Tony! We now know the truth: you are mostly innocent in the instance of the mislabeled door-decks.
<>< Katie
Yesterday was Tony's birthday, and I felt it necessary to give him a birthday blog. The problem is that I don't really have a lot of stories about Tony (except the time he got bit by a squirrel but I've already written about that). This morning we were both in the computer lab at the same time and he laughed as he asked me how many blogs I have. Only two: a personal blog and a work/school blog.
This semester, Tony is my RA. This means he's responsible for making our door-decks (aka name tags for the door). Several of the girls in my apartment don't go by their proper names. Well, our door-decks all say our proper names. Tony knows us and should have known to change the names. So we were giving him a hard time about it.
"Ok, listen," he said. "Keith was there when I was making the door-decks, and when I said, 'Which name should I use?' He got this devious look on his face and kind of laughed--"
"Are we ready to go to dinner?" Keith asked bursting in to our apartment in the middle of Tony's story. All of our eyes darted from Tony to Keith. Drama Queen Keith figured out what story was being told, grunted, and stormed out of the apartment.
"KEITH!" We screamed, running after him to take our anger out on him instead of Tony. Love you, Keith.
Happy birthday, Tony! We now know the truth: you are mostly innocent in the instance of the mislabeled door-decks.
<>< Katie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)