Every ice cream cone you eat is a race: you versus the melting ice cream.
On Wednesday, I lost the race when a drop of chocolate ice cream landed on my Carolina-blue shirt. Of course, I was devastated and used every means available to remove the evidence.
After all, this wasn't just any blue t-shirt. This t-shirt was purchased as part of a fundraiser to send my friend Hannah to eleven countries in eleven months through The World Race. Hannah is important to me, and I want to proudly wear her missions shirt to support her. I don't want it to have chocolate ice cream stains on it.
Wait just a second.
What's the shirt for? Hannah's mission work through The World Race. I wonder if she has Shout wipes in her pack. I wonder if she's going to come home unstained after visiting eleven countries in eleven months.
I doubt it.
Friends, God doesn't call us to look as nice as pristine as we can. We're called to get dirty.
Jesus got dirty: He washed sore, dusty feet. (See John 13:1-17)
Jesus got dirty: He spent His time with tax collectors. (See Matthew 9:9-13)
Jesus got dirty: He wept when His friend died. (See John 11:1-44)
Jesus got dirty: He touched lepers. (See Matthew 8:1-4)
Jesus got dirty: He spit on His own fingers to heal. (See Mark 7:32-35)
Jesus got dirty: He was whipped, mocked, and crucified. (See Luke 22:47-24:12)
Jesus got dirty; why don't we?
Do I care more about the chocolate stain on Hannah's Race shirt than the people she's going to be ministering to, loving, and serving? Of course not. At least not anymore.
Do you?
<>< Katie
PS: The stain washed out of my shirt, but I don't want this lesson to wash out of my heart.
Showing posts with label dirty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dirty. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2011
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Irony
Nikki came up to me the other day and genuinely said, "Katie, I just want you to know that I love you. I know I pick on you a lot, sometimes too much, but I love you."
I told her I loved her, too, and went to give her a hug. As I got close, she burst out laughing. She backed away from me and kept laughing.
"What?"
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was then that I remembered I have blue lines running across my face. I was in an event on campus where I let the freshmen paint blue lines horizonally across my face.
Well, I came home and wiped them off with paper towel and water then a make-up remover wipe and saw a huge difference, but I still had blue lines across my face. They kind of looked like veins. So I hopped in the shower, used some soap, some eye make-up remover...
Now my face is so dry it's ready to fall off, but the blue lines ain't goin' anywhere. And Nikki's laughing at me immediately after apologizing for picking on me incessantly.
<>< Katie
I told her I loved her, too, and went to give her a hug. As I got close, she burst out laughing. She backed away from me and kept laughing.
"What?"
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was then that I remembered I have blue lines running across my face. I was in an event on campus where I let the freshmen paint blue lines horizonally across my face.
Well, I came home and wiped them off with paper towel and water then a make-up remover wipe and saw a huge difference, but I still had blue lines across my face. They kind of looked like veins. So I hopped in the shower, used some soap, some eye make-up remover...
Now my face is so dry it's ready to fall off, but the blue lines ain't goin' anywhere. And Nikki's laughing at me immediately after apologizing for picking on me incessantly.
<>< Katie
Monday, July 12, 2010
"It's All in the Serve"
Do me a favor and hold your imaginary tennis ball in your left hand, racket in your right. Bounce the ball on the ground a few times because in a second you're going to toss it straight into the air. Now, cross your wrists. You know this. "Down together; up together; swing when you're ready."
How's your serve?
Off the court, how's your serve? Invisible? Are you putting the towel on like Jesus and washing dirty, smelly feet? Are you getting dirty? Are you being used? Are you serving your own intentions or feeding the needs of others?
Honestly?
No one's judging you (except God, of course, but He loves you anyway).
The serve
An Ace: A job well done. Applaud but not because of what you did. Applaud that God used you, and no one saw. Don't you dare tell anyone what happened. Now, go do it again.
The Let: The job was completed, but you got caught in the act. Bounce the ball a few times, brush it off, and step up to the baseline. Take two. Don't get caught. Let God work.
It's Out: You pushed your own intentions, and the ball went long. You didn't do what needed to be done, and the ball went wide. That's ok. Try again. Whatever you do, don't let the ball fall short. Good intentions do nothing. Follow through.
<>< Katie
Note One: some of the ideas in this post come from Peder Eide. If you have never explored his Taste Worship ministry, I highly recommend you do so. Especially if you have a family. Which you do.
Note Two: The title of this post comes from a Michael W. Smith song from The Second Chance movie.
How's your serve?
Off the court, how's your serve? Invisible? Are you putting the towel on like Jesus and washing dirty, smelly feet? Are you getting dirty? Are you being used? Are you serving your own intentions or feeding the needs of others?
Honestly?
No one's judging you (except God, of course, but He loves you anyway).
The serve
An Ace: A job well done. Applaud but not because of what you did. Applaud that God used you, and no one saw. Don't you dare tell anyone what happened. Now, go do it again.
The Let: The job was completed, but you got caught in the act. Bounce the ball a few times, brush it off, and step up to the baseline. Take two. Don't get caught. Let God work.
It's Out: You pushed your own intentions, and the ball went long. You didn't do what needed to be done, and the ball went wide. That's ok. Try again. Whatever you do, don't let the ball fall short. Good intentions do nothing. Follow through.
<>< Katie
Note One: some of the ideas in this post come from Peder Eide. If you have never explored his Taste Worship ministry, I highly recommend you do so. Especially if you have a family. Which you do.
Note Two: The title of this post comes from a Michael W. Smith song from The Second Chance movie.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Put the Towel On
I love to be served. For someone to take care of my dishes at the end of a meal, to take out the garbage even though it's my turn, to have a glass of water and a blanket handed to me when I walk in the door. Sometimes it's because I'm lazy but more so it's because being served is how I feel loved.
While I love to be served, I need to make sure I'm serving as well. Regularly I need to ask myself: have I gotten dirty today? I'm not talking "Where is the hand sanitizer?" I'm talking, have I sacrificed some part of myself to help someone else? Have I put the towel on?
In John 13, Jesus' disciples are fighting over who will serve. More accurately, who will not serve. They've been out traveling and their feet are filled with grime. Yuck!
When supper's ready at my house Mom screams "W-A-S-H" and a stampede of elephants rushes to the bathroom to wash our hands. In Jesus' time, they washed feet before eating. Not because they ate with their toes but because they wore sandals and by the end of the day their feet were caked with dust, dirt, and whatever else happened in the street.
Since it was a dirty job, the feet-washing responsibility fell on the person with the lowest status. Can't you just hear the disciples? "I'm not doing it!" "EWW! I am NOT washing the poop out from between your toes!" "Not gonna happen."
While they're busy bickering about who is NOT going to do the dirty work, Jesus is in the other room changing His clothes. He comes out wearing a towel and bends down at the feet of His followers and begins scrubbing.
It might just be me but something doesn't add up in this passage. The is a job for the lowest person. Jesus is doing it. Jesus is God. Last time I checked, God is NOT the lowest on the totem pole. That's the point. Our God named Jesus was willing to become the least of these to serve His friends. Even His friend that would betray Him. He knew all this and He still put the towel on.
What about you? Have you put the towel on? Do me a favor and serve someone today. Oh, and don't do it because Katie said so. Don't even do it because it's your job. Do it out of love (you can decide whether for that person or for God).
Let me know how I can serve you,
<>< Katie
While I love to be served, I need to make sure I'm serving as well. Regularly I need to ask myself: have I gotten dirty today? I'm not talking "Where is the hand sanitizer?" I'm talking, have I sacrificed some part of myself to help someone else? Have I put the towel on?
In John 13, Jesus' disciples are fighting over who will serve. More accurately, who will not serve. They've been out traveling and their feet are filled with grime. Yuck!
When supper's ready at my house Mom screams "W-A-S-H" and a stampede of elephants rushes to the bathroom to wash our hands. In Jesus' time, they washed feet before eating. Not because they ate with their toes but because they wore sandals and by the end of the day their feet were caked with dust, dirt, and whatever else happened in the street.
Since it was a dirty job, the feet-washing responsibility fell on the person with the lowest status. Can't you just hear the disciples? "I'm not doing it!" "EWW! I am NOT washing the poop out from between your toes!" "Not gonna happen."
While they're busy bickering about who is NOT going to do the dirty work, Jesus is in the other room changing His clothes. He comes out wearing a towel and bends down at the feet of His followers and begins scrubbing.
It might just be me but something doesn't add up in this passage. The is a job for the lowest person. Jesus is doing it. Jesus is God. Last time I checked, God is NOT the lowest on the totem pole. That's the point. Our God named Jesus was willing to become the least of these to serve His friends. Even His friend that would betray Him. He knew all this and He still put the towel on.
What about you? Have you put the towel on? Do me a favor and serve someone today. Oh, and don't do it because Katie said so. Don't even do it because it's your job. Do it out of love (you can decide whether for that person or for God).
Let me know how I can serve you,
<>< Katie
Thursday, July 3, 2008
War Wounds
Today was more of a winter day than a construction day... The banging has stopped temporarily, but I am wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt. What the crap?
I cut the grass today for the third time since Saturday. I've come to a conclusion: cutting the grass shouldn't be this painful. It is literally painful for all aspects of personal health. Ok, maybe not relational, but then again, I've never tried to have a deep conversation on the tractor. Emotionally it's hard especially when the neighbors are those kinds of people who measure their grass with a rule and use a scissors to cut the grass (just kidding, but only a little). Spiritually it's a challenge because I listen to sermons on my iPod. Mentally it's a strategic battle because I have to make sure I'm going the right direction at the right time in order to avoid grass shavings in the trees... (Whatever you say, Dad.)
Cutting the grass causes physical pain. Our trees, bushes, etc. are taking over and desperately need trimming! Cutting the grass next to them involves scratching, pricking, and (since it just rained) wetness. It's not pleasant. Especially compiled with the fact that my "Lay on the steering wheel, close your eyes, hit the gas, and pray for the best" no longer saves me from scars.
Cutting the grass leaves me with war wounds in the same way being a witness for Christ leaves me with war wounds. Wounds from the trees are a lot more visible on the outside, but wounds for Christ hurt just as much on the inside. God's changing out lives and sometimes we have to get a little dirty in order for Him to do it. To quote Audio Adrenaline, 'Let's get dirty, let's get used..."
<>< Katie
I cut the grass today for the third time since Saturday. I've come to a conclusion: cutting the grass shouldn't be this painful. It is literally painful for all aspects of personal health. Ok, maybe not relational, but then again, I've never tried to have a deep conversation on the tractor. Emotionally it's hard especially when the neighbors are those kinds of people who measure their grass with a rule and use a scissors to cut the grass (just kidding, but only a little). Spiritually it's a challenge because I listen to sermons on my iPod. Mentally it's a strategic battle because I have to make sure I'm going the right direction at the right time in order to avoid grass shavings in the trees... (Whatever you say, Dad.)
Cutting the grass causes physical pain. Our trees, bushes, etc. are taking over and desperately need trimming! Cutting the grass next to them involves scratching, pricking, and (since it just rained) wetness. It's not pleasant. Especially compiled with the fact that my "Lay on the steering wheel, close your eyes, hit the gas, and pray for the best" no longer saves me from scars.
Cutting the grass leaves me with war wounds in the same way being a witness for Christ leaves me with war wounds. Wounds from the trees are a lot more visible on the outside, but wounds for Christ hurt just as much on the inside. God's changing out lives and sometimes we have to get a little dirty in order for Him to do it. To quote Audio Adrenaline, 'Let's get dirty, let's get used..."
<>< Katie
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