Sarchi, Land of Broken People

Sarchi, Costa Rica, will forever be ingrained in my brain as the "Land of Broken People."

In the one afternoon we spent their, we saw more physically disabled people than I have seen in my entire life. He's wearing an eye patch, she's missing a leg, and that is not what a bandaged arm is supposed to look like.

I really wish I could say I did something noble like praying over the ailing or dispensing Advil or something.

I didn't.

I gawked and laughed at jokes about what must be in the water. It ashames me now. But to this day, anytime I see people with physical handicaps or disabilities, I remember Sarchi, land of broken people.

Could we not all be considered to be from Sarchi? Are we not all broken people?

Wounded physically, maybe but more likely wounded emotionally. Broken hearted.

Ironically, one of the two friends who visited Sarchi with me, the one who made the joke about the water, is responsible for breaking my heart. Intentionally or unintentionally doesn't matter. It happened.

Broken people.

I am growing to love broken people. It's in their vulnerability, when they share their brokenness, that God's glory shines most brightly. We can't all be perfect people. Let me rephrase that, none of us are perfect people.

Just admit it: you are broken. It's hard to say, but I am broken. I don't have it all together. I don't spend time with the Lord like I should. I snap when I should be courteous. I miss blog days when I have committed to blogging every other day. I try to exalt myself sometimes even at the expense of someone else. I even, gasp, cry.

I hate being broken. I want my body to do what I tell it to do. I want my emotions in check all the time. I want my heart guarded and unbroken. But trying to heal myself only turns into a more-contorted broken arm. More damage than good.

Yet I choose to sit at the feet of the Great Physician and let Him, in His time, bind up my wounds, replace my broken heart, and mend my soul. It is only then that I begin to heal. Maybe more slowly than I would like; maybe not perfect in the world's sense but perfect in God's sense.

And it gives me a story to tell. A story that boasts my weakness and His greatness.

I understand now, the older song that says, "Brokenness, it's what I long for. Brokenness, it's what I need."

I am broken.
I am Sarchian.

<>< Katie

Broken-Toed Tennis Player

I mentioned last week that Mom broke her toe.  I think I need to do justice to that story.

While my sisters and I were at the National Youth Gathering, our parents were on a retreat as part of my dad's work.  The first day they were there, she was conned into playing in the tennis tournament.  Mom's not a tennis player.  She's been a Tennis Mom for almost ten years, but she's never been a tennis player.  A few months ago, she decided to pick up the racket and give it a shot.  She'll be the first to tell you, she's not very good.  Lucky for her, she was partnered with one of my sister's friends, a stellar tennis player and a great guy.  Neither one of them wanted to play, but they weren't really given a choice.

That night, she had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  Feeling smug, she pulled out her flashlight, but it was brighter in the dark room than she expected, so she turned it off.  She'd turn it on, look, turn it off, and take a few steps.  It was a fantastic plan.  Until she realized the bench at the foot of the bed was wider at its base than it was on top.  SMASH!  She moaned and face-planted onto the bed.

"There were women screaming and falling into my bed at 2am," Dad says when they co-tell what happened.

In the morning, there was still the tennis tournament to consider.  Mom taped her toes and shoved it in her tennis shoe... She felt the skill level of the first match was pretty even, and they won.  The second match was harder, but as her opponent got riled up, her partner got fancy.  He did most of the work, but she still had to serve and return serves.  They won the second match.  That meant they were in the championship.

"Whatever you do, do not let the ball go to him; always hit the ball to her," said Mom's opponent.

They were playing a nine game proset, that means first one to nine games wins, and they were up 8-5.  Again, her partner is an amazing tennis player and did all of the work, but he's so easy going that he didn't care.  Mom decided since the match was not on the line, she wanted to try something her coach had been teaching her. 

Her partner and opponent were rallying cross-court from the baseline.  At the net, Mom stepped into the center of the court and poached, my trademark shot.  She volleyed the ball; it went over the net and dropped.  There was no possible way for them to hit that ball.

Mom jumped up to cheer that the poach actually worked.  Then reality set in.  That wasn't just a great shot, that was the game-winning shot.  Game, set, match, tournament!

Mom jumped up to cheer realizing she, an amateur player with a broken toe, just won the tennis tournament.

And she wonders why we give her no pity for her injury. 

<>< Katie

Life Ain't All Rosy

If I count up the number of meals I've eaten in the last two weeks, it would not divide out to be three a day. If I added the number of hours of sleep I've gotten, it would not be anywhere near eight-hours a night. If I blogged every God moment I've had in the last two weeks, my blog would be updated infinitely more often than anyone would read it (that is assuming people actually read it as is). All of those missed meals and lack of sleep were worth being the hands and feet of Christ.

Except today I write with a heavy heart.  Within four hours of returning home, I was hit with four different life-altering scenarios.

1. A professor, emailing me for a different reason, shared that one of her close friends is dying of cancer.  Why the professor felt the need to share this, I may never know, but it took the smile from my tired face as my heart broke for her.

2. My mom has a self-diagnosed broken toe.  That's not pretty.  She's hobbling around with only one shoe on.  Maybe not life-altering, but we drink our milk and have few broken bones, so it's a big deal.

3. One of my pastors and his wife were in a serious car accident.  Both are in their seventies and were admitted to the hospital.  It's my understanding that they have since been released with only lacerations and contusions; no broken bones or major injuries.  Alleluia!

4. A close family friend had breast cancer surgery while we were gone.  It has not metastasized but she has a long road ahead of her.  The oldest of their four children just graduated high school this June.

We were still living in the old house when I noticed four names scribbled in the margin of a piece of paper on the table.  It was my first experience with some people that would become important in my life over the next eleven years (and counting).  We added a few more names to the group until we had a party of fifteen.

I think it's safe to say we've spent a lot of time together.  From the water ski show to snow skiing.  From pool parties and bonfires to trips to the lake.  It was Christina who pushed Uncle Steve into our pool in his nice golf uniform.  When Laura earned herself an ambulance ride, Christina and I were sent to their house at 6am.  When I went to college, they all came over the night before to say goodbye.

The day we got home from the NYG, Mom said she was taking them dinner.  Instantly I wondered who died. Great-grandma?  Grandma?  Not grandpa, he was just flipping around in a moon bounce a month ago.  No one died.  Sue had breast cancer surgery.  What?  She too was in the moon bounce a month ago. 

On Friday, we went to a baseball game in the skybox, a perk of my dad's job and a trip that's been planned for months.  I wondered what to say.  Would cancer be the topic of conversation all night?  Would we brush it under the rug like it hadn't happened?

I'm not so much into baseball, so I love when we have the box because it means I can curl up on the couch with a plate of mozzarella sticks and a good book.  From my couch, I can observe.  I saw seven of the nine kids (one was MIA; one was me) sitting in the front row laughing and teasing each other.  I saw the three women in the middle row talking about anything and everything.  I saw the three men--all wearing black shirts, khaki shorts, and no shoes--turn a baseball game into a betting game.  I did not see the peanuts launched over shoulders in my general direction until they collided with my face.  Thanks.

I saw the concern.  The genuine, "Let us know if you need anything."  I also saw the smiles.  Together this group of friends would push through.  For this next season of life we will laugh, cry, and pray together.  We can acknowledge the elephant in the room without constantly staring at it.

Our team won the baseball game that night, but I cannot wait until the day when I say our family won the battle.  Maybe we'll celebrate with some brownie soup.

Until then, will you join us in prayer?

Thank you,
<>< Katie

Double the Mistake

There are about a million birthdays in April. Some of them I was able to write birthday blogs for but some of them I had to miss. If you didn't get one, I am incredibly sorry. Please, don't take it personally. :-)

Today's is a birthday I cannot miss. I'm often complemented on how I can see God in all sorts of weird ways and call them "God Moments." I haven't always been able to do that. Through a year's worth of God moments of her own, I was able to copy Natalie's lead and see God in little, weird things. Trust me, if you think some of my God moments are weird, ask Natalie about He spoke through the chemistry principle of microscopic reverse or anything else that relates to sports, science, and the bathroom.

Thus, for her birthday, I'd love to share one of her God moments. The problem is that I need to find a censored one that is appropriate for such a wide reading audience. Not mortifying Natalie isn't quite an option. Hey, she's the one that showed up to small group wearing a bathrobe to demonstrate how Isaiah walked around naked for three years (see Isaiah 20). She's the one that took our small group on Babylonian exile through the icy rain. She's the one that burned two bagels in less than a half an hour. She's the one that broke two fingers playing flag football.

After a few days of pain, Natalie finally decided she should go to the doctor for her two injured fingers. The identical x-rays were hanging side-by-side and, as she tells it, the doctor was looking from one to the other to her to her hands with a confused look on his face.
Doctor: These are two different fingers.
Natalie: Yes, sir.
Doctor: These are two different hands.
Natalie: Yes, sir.
Doctor: Please tell me this was the same play.
Natalie: No, sir.
She'd been playing a co-ed game of flag football here on campus when she reached for the flag of one of her opponents.  She got the flag but she also got her right hand tangled in his shorts.  Broken right middle finger.  She's broken enough bones to realize what she'd done but is way too competitive to remove herself from the game.  Besides, if she benched herself her team would have to forfeit.  A little while later she reached for her opponent's flag with her left hand and the exact same thing happened again.  Broken finger on the left hand.  Any sensible person would have learned her lesson and forced her team for forfeit the game.  She'd already not just taken one for the team but two.  Nope, Natalie kept playing.  In fact, she even scored a touchdown with two broken fingers; she said she carried the ball clutched between her forearms and her chest as she waddled towards the end zone.

By Monday at small group time she'd be amused by the identical x-rays and had two splints on her fingers. 
Apparently the flesh-colored splints make it look like her fingers were wearing hoodies, so she drew faces on her fingernails.  The right-hand one became Jesus and the left-hand one became John the Baptist.  Imagine Laura's reaction (her faithful co-leader who frequently reminded her "Be censored, Natalie!").  It went something like, "NATALIE!  You cannot flip someone off with Jesus!"

Thus was my small group freshman year, and as is common for Natalie, God spoke through such a bizarre series of events.

She went on to talk about how sometimes she makes the same mistake twice.  Sometimes she puts bagels in the oven and forgets about them until they're burned to chars and sometimes she does it again ten minute later.  Sometimes she burns two bagels again two weeks later.  Sometimes she breaks two fingers in the same football game.  Sometimes she had to make the same mistake twice before God gets her attention.  Do we do the same thing?  Are we so caught up in what we're doing that we forget to pay attention to what we're doing? That we forget to pay attention to God?

Luckily, there is good news for us.  Even out of her mistake of breaking fingers, God was still able to do something remarkable when He helped her score.  He can still do pretty cool things with our double-mess ups.  And frankly, I think that's a darn good thing.

I love you guys.  A lot.
<>< Katie

Broken Glass

"You cannot say you've never had the urge to throw a glass against a fireplace," my family said, almost in unison, as all eyes fell on my aunt.

I thought for a second about the question.

Honestly, no. I haven't ever had the urge to throw a glass against a fireplace much less the lack of self control to act on such an impulse. Sure, I've wanted to throw people against walls and sometimes I've thrown other things but never a glass. It'll break.

"You're never so frustrated you just need to break something?" The family continued.

Sure but not glass. Perhaps it's because my mother spent most of my childhood walking behind me, "Don't touch broken glass. Don't walk in the street barefoot just in case there's broken glass. Leave the broken glass alone. You don't want to cut yourself." Grandma has the scar to prove broken glass isn't something I want to be playing with.

"Yes," my aunt confessed. She once threw a glass against the wall out of frustration, "But then I was even more mad because I had a big mess to clean up!" Broken glass is pretty common at her house. When she and my uncle buy wine glasses they always buy two and without fail one is broken on the first use. We tease at her house no one needs individual charms to identify wine glasses everyone just gets an unique glass because no two glasses are the same.

Everyone else concluded the mess isn't a problem for them. Cleaning it up helps relieve the frustration (until they cut themselves and then they're re-living the frustration, I'm sure).

"Dad throws glasses against the fireplace all of the time," Grandma said.

"Once... MAYBE twice," Grandpa defended himself. This made everyone laugh remembering a similar conversation a few years ago. When my mom and her siblings were growing up my grandpa sneezed egg all over the wall. According to my aunt, this was a weekly occurrence. My mom realizes not quite weekly but quite often. Grandpa, on the other hand, swears it only happened once. Just like he only threw the glass against the wall once.

<>< Katie

Brokenness, It's What You've Got From Me

Faithfulness,
Faithfulness
It's what I long for.
Faithfulness,
it's what I need.
Faithfulness,
It's what You want from me.

Holiness
Holiness
It's what I long for.
Holiness,
it's what I need.
Holiness,
It's what You want from me.

Brokenness,
Brokenness,
It's what I long for.
Brokenness,
it's what I need.
Brokenness,
It's what You want from me.

How often do we add our own verses?

Sleeplessness,
Sleeplessness,
It's what I long for.
Sleeplessness,
It's what I need.
Sleeplessness,
It's what You want from me.

Loneliness,
Loneliness,
It's what I long for.
Loneliness,
It's what I need.
Loneliness,
It's what You want from me.

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let's sing the bridge instead

So take my heart and form it
Take my mind, transform it.
Take my will, conform it.
To Yours, to Yours, oh, Lord

We're only a few weeks into the semester and I'm already burnt out. As I look at what I'm doing as for extra circulars: they're all for Him. Most of them are Campus Ministries organizations. I'm quickly learning I can't participate in everything I want to participate in or I will probably die. I'd do better to listen faithfully to Him. THEN hear and obey the answers He gives, not the answers I want!

Oh, if only it were that easy!

In Christ,
<>< Katie

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ: He is a new creation. The old has gone and the new has come." 1 Corinthians 5:17

(Add that to the board in the youth room... that was from memory! :-))

"Pick up the Phone, Dummy!"

My grandpa loves to stand on top of something (tree stump, dock, chair, etc.), point his hands in the air, and yell, "For my next dive!" He then pretends he's diving in. Well, my glasses wanted to try that yesterday, but they missed the pretend part. That's right, they sky dived (sky dove?) off my shelf and onto the ground about six-feet below. The first clank told me they hit the floor. It was the second clank that worried me. In the morning, I had to put in my contacts to find my glasses. How funny is that? As it turns out, one of the lenses popped out, but I was able to get it back in! Yay!

This encounter made me think of another famous Grandpa quote. Last summer, my mom called my grandparents, but for some reason the phone wasn't connecting. My family is very prone to phone issues. We've had phone issues ever since my parents went on their honeymoon and a friend had their phone cancelled as a prank... haha


Anyway, this conversation between my grandpa and my mom was your typical:

"Hello? HELLO?! Is anyone there? HELLO?!" Meanwhile, my mom is on the other end screaming that she can hear him, she's really there... but it's not going through. Finally he just got so fed up, he said, "PICK UP THE PHONE, YOU BIG DUMMY!" He then hung up on her.


Obviously he had no idea it was my mom calling and thought she was a telemarketer. Just goes to show you never know the full story. You never know what kind of day someone else has had. Before getting snippy or rude with them, remember maybe today is the day where everything in their life has gone wrong. Even though you weren't being very loud while video chatting in the middle of the afternoon, the neighbors were having a rough day and took it out on you. You never really know what's going on unless you ask (and even then you only know as much as they are willing to tell).

In Christ,
<>< Katie

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. " John 13: 34