Wrong Number

It's Friday morning (ok, early afternoon).  I'm sitting in the den blogging with my feet above the desktop keyboard to where I have to reach around my knees to type.  No one else understands how I do it but to me it's surprisingly comfortable.  My sister Laura's in the kitchen eating breakfast, something I should do any minute.  The house phone rings.  Yes, we have a landline.  I pick up the waterproof yellow phone in front of me to check the caller-id.  I don't recognize it, so I set the phone down.  Since I only live here part-time no one calls me on this number.  Even when I lived here full-time every single phone conversation went something like this:
Katie: Hello?
Caller: Hey, Sarah, it's Somebody Random who just keeps talking until I have to cut her off.
Katie: This isn't Sarah.  Hold on, let me find her for you.
Caller: Oh, sorry, Laura.
Katie: Not Laura either.
Caller: Wow!  Christina you sound so grown up.
Katie: Keep guessing.
Caller: Freddy?
Yeah.  I don't answer the phone anymore because apparently I sound like a man...  Besides, if it's not for me, why answer the phone?  To take a message?  We have this cool machine that does that for us.

I hear Laura in the kitchen also pick up the phone and check the caller-id.  She must recognize the name because she answers the phone.
Laura: Hello?
Woman: Who is this?!
Laura: Laura.
Woman: Oh. Sorry. Wrong number.  Bye.
Laura: Bye.

She hangs up and bursts out laughing.  "The woman spazzed when a female answers the phone!  It was so funny."

After chastising her for saying her name to a stranger (In my mind the appropriate answer is, "You called me; who is this?") we had a good laugh at this stranger's wrong number.  Maybe it's because I'm a writer that I want to know what her thoughts were when Laura answered the phone.  Was she calling home to check on a husband she suspects is cheating?  Was she expecting a young child to answer (or not answer) the phone?  Is she just a freak-out lady?

We laugh, and I return to my blogging.

<>< Katie

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

What does that mean?

In my small group a few weeks ago we were struggling over Romans 10:5-9. We read the NIV and it didn't make any sense. So moved to the ESV. Silly me, I thought the "E" in ESV stood for "English." Clearly not because that doesn't make any sense. This passage made my brain hurt. We mulled over it for probably ten minutes before quiet Stephanie sitting across from me said, "I don't know if this will help or not, but I could read my translation." She read her NLT and suddenly the passage made sense!

Sitting right there in the middle of small group I had a God moment. God used that confusion moment (or confusion moments) to teach me about searching for answers.

How often do we search and search unable to find what we're looking for? We're confused, frustrated, and uncertain. We're crying out to him not understanding anything and then all of the sudden... BOOM! There is your answer! And low and behold, it had been right in front of you the whole time. If we'd have asked Stephanie to read her translation earlier, the passage would have made sense sooner but nooooo... we had to do our own thing and struggle with it on our own until she piped up and offered.

Pay attention to what's right in front of your face! Ask others for help in clarification. You don't have to do it on your own.

In Christ,
<>< Katie

Do You Really Know Me?

I found this amusing today, and I think y'all will enjoy it, too. :-)

There are some people you recognize but don't know their names, some people you know by name only, some people you know a little bit about, and some people whose heart and soul you know. My friend Annie is one of those people that knows me really well. She and I were in the same small group freshman year, and our whole group bonded really well. We had no problem sharing our inner-most thoughts, fears, concerns, prayer requests... We were always really open with each other, and even know, we know there are eight other girls on campus (ok, seven, the brilliant one graduated already) who are willing to be shoulders on which to cry, etc.

I asked my friend Annie to give me a ride to church today, and she willingly agreed. After church we stopped at Wal-mart and on the way home we raced to make it back to campus before the caf closed (we made it with three minutes, thank you very much... and this time Annie didn't run any stop signs and only sped up to barely make it through one yellow light. haha).

At Wal-mart, Annie asked me a question, thinking it was about my major. I was able to answer her question but it stirred a conversation about my major.

In the car on the way back to campus, we were comparing the new church we visited with our home churches. I made some comment about one of my pastors and she looked at me (yes, while driving...) and said, "Wait, I thought your dad was a pastor." Nope. The closest we will ever get to seeing my dad in pastoral garb is... my dad in a toga. :-)

I then said something about a large ministry I was involved in, and she was shocked I didn't know everyone. I told her that was pretty much impossible in a church our size and she thought I was playing a practical joke on her.

She said, "I really thought your dad was the pastor of a church of about 200 or 300 people." Definitely not. Anyone who knows my dad and my church, is probably pretty much rolling on the floor laughing. :-) I told my dad about this and he felt sorry for the 200-300 people he was leading and promsied to buy them all a beer. I love my dad and I love my church but he's definitely not the pastor and it's definitely not only 200-300 people.

How many people do you think you know only to learn you really don't know them as well as you thought you did? How many people have misconceptions about who you are? Are you judging without really knowing? Have you been misinformed about the situation? Do you need discernment? At the same time, are you living under a facade and not allowing people to see your true self?

I should add, I think no less of Annie after this interaction. I see where her misconceptions came from and it's an understandable mistake. I love that she was strong enough to admit she was wrong. :-) I think she and I need to hang out more. Although, now I am kind of curious what other thoughts people have about me (they all already think "Ax" is my last name... and I had a professor ask if I was nondenominational...)

In Christ,
<>< Katie

"Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." Ephesians 4:2