(Not) Getting Murdered

No matter how many times David said, "We're not going to get murdered," I was still scared.

He was my navigator telling me to drive two miles down a dirt road in the dark.

It was kind of like driving on ice in that I didn't exactly have complete control of the car. And it was kind of like terrifying in that we were smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Did I mention it was nighttime and we were alone? Well, except for the truck following us, driven by the murderer.

For two miles, the conversation essentially went:
Katie: We're gonna die.
David: No, we're not.
Katie: We're gonna get murdered.
David: We're not gonna get murdered.

Yet still I kept driving.

I trust David, and I trusted he wasn't really leading me down a dangerous path.

If I trusted David, how could I be so fearful?

Well, I was in a very scary situation: I was driving down a dirt road with my brights on but not in complete control of the car, in the middle of nowhere to a house where I've never been, at night, with a guy who is older, bigger, and wiser than I am, and we were being followed. Maybe not the smartest decision of my life.

In ASL, the words for FEAR and TRUST are opposites. You can't sign them both at the same time (I tried). Fear and trust cannot co-exist.

Yet still they did in my car.

Still they do in my life.

I'm in a scary situation. After four long years I graduated with a degree that lacks a defined job at the end. I'm working as a freelance writer and not making enough to pay for food.

But if I say I trust the Lord, how can I be so fearful?

I am not the driver and not the navigator in this life. I'm just a passenger letting the Lord take this car wherever He desires.

But that doesn't mean I'm doing it quietly. I'm crying, I'm protesting, I'm convinced I'm gonna die. I have dug my heels into the ground, literally shouted naughty words at the Lord, and nearly punched someone in frustration.

That isn't trust. That's protesting. That's complaining.

God and I have this conversation regularly:
Katie: This is scary.
God: Just trust Me.
Katie: I want to but I can't. I'm scared.
God: I love you perfectly. Please, just trust Me.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot merge fear and trust. Something's got to give.

On Saturday, I surrendered to trust David, let go of the fear, and kept driving.

The dirt road did eventually end. Surprise: we didn't get murdered! The truck following us was driven by Cody who, turns out, is not a murderer. (Well, if he is, he's a very bad one since he didn't seize a perfect opportunity).

The road forked and BOOM there was a house with lights on, the door open, and the host and hostess inviting us in.

Daily surrender to trust the Lord doesn't mean this bumpy path of unemployment is going to end. God doesn't promise a smooth journey. He does promise that He'll journey with us.

So far, He has.

Life ain't great. But still every morning the sun rises (proof enough of God's faithfulness), I'm still breathing and, eventually, I can pull myself from the five layers of blankets. Some days come with more self-confidence than others but each day a new chance to proclaim His faithfulness even in the desert.

I protested with David but kept going. I'm protesting the Lord but still stepping forwards in obedience.

What's scary about obedience is the lack of control and the lack of knowing where you're going.

The house David, Cody, and I arrived at was home to a family who welcomed us with open arms, fed us a delicious dinner, and let us raid their game room.

This is less than half of their game collection.

Worth it.

If we continue in obedience, God promises that some day we will arrive Home to His open arms.

Luckily, we don't have to wait until then. In every step we can cling to His perfect love. In obedience and even in failure, He's RIGHT THERE.

That is hope enough to keep on truckin'.

Putting one foot in front of the other and taking each day one step at a time,
<>< Katie

Anaconda Squeeze

It's very overwhelming for Nicaraguan places to be invaded by 26 Americans.  The first day, half of our team was going to the special needs school and the other half to an orphanage.  We had planned VBS-like activities.  My group was going to teach the story of Daniel and the lion's den with audience participation and a corresponding craft.

Flaw in the plan: a miscommunication with the orphanage meant we wouldn't be able to work there.  After some quick re-figuring, we found ourselves working with 5 and 6 year olds at a school.

Flaw in the plan: this was a public school.  That meant no talking about Jesus.  There were two sets of 80 kids each and we had no plan.

Yay for being flexible and thinking on our feet.

We got the first group to sit under the shade of a tree while we introduced ourselves, did some silly skits, and told them why we were in Nicaragua.  (We did slide Jesus in there briefly).

After that we let them play.  We tried to teach them Duck, Duck, Goose (Renamed Gato, Gato, Perro).  It didn't fly.  The soccer balls did.

Eventually recess was over, so "Neo" collected the balls and became a human jungle gym.

No matter how many times he said, "No," those two little boys wouldn't stop reaching for the balls.  I had the perfect distraction: a camera.

One kid became two, became four or five, became thirty... There are about 50 more photos that I want to post just to show you the cuteness of the crowd we drew.

I ran out of funny face ideas before they lost interest.  Instead, I started asking them questions in Spanish.

Katie: Are you having a good day?
Adorable Children: SI!
Katie: Do you like recess?
Adorable Children: SI!
Katie: Is it better than math?
Adorable Children: SI!

They loved every minute of it!  Every "Sí" was more energetic than the previous.

Eventually my other team members came up and introduced themselves, talked about why we were there, and did some skits.  I did all of our interpreting for that group which meant I had no idea what the next plan was and I didn't get thirty second water break during the switching of groups.  When we told them to stand up, they did.

I think it probably started with one child's desire to give me a hug.  As had happened previously, one child turned into two, turned into three or four, turned into fifty.

My very first Anaconda Squeeze!

I deserved to be trampled because I was the one who riled them up... but I loved every minute of it!

I relished that moment.  I tried to touch every child around me and told them all that I love them.  I wish I could have told them about Jesus and how much He loves them.

I also wish I would not have forgotten how to conjugate.  When there are fifty kids latched to your waist, it is almost impossible to stay upright.  But I couldn't find the words, "I'm falling."  I got "to fall," "I dropped it," and "he fell" but not "I'm falling."  I finally realized I was going down and there was nothing I could do about it but try not to crush kids in the process.

When I started to shrink, the rest of my team stopped taking pictures and realized I needed help.

Eventually, we got the 50 kids off of me and divided into groups.  Naturally, my group was the largest, and I still had no idea what we were doing.

As per Erin's suggestion, we started the Hokey Pokey.  In English.  Meaning what?  Katie's solo.

Right arm.
Left arm.
Right leg.
Left leg.
Head.
Stomach.
The kids were starting to get it, so I asked for body parts from them.
Hair.
Chin.
Right knee.
Left knee.
Eyebrows.
Forehead.
Teeth.

Three days of Hokey Pokey later and I was out of breath and thinking about what we were teaching these kids: the Hokey Pokey is what it's all about. 

We could tell these kids we were there because of Jesus but we couldn't tell them who Jesus is.  We couldn't tell them Jesus loves them.  We couldn't tell them about how great Jesus is.

It broke my heart to imagine these kids going home and having this conversation.
Mom: How was school today?
Child: Great!  We tackled some Americans at recess!
Mom: Why were there Americans at you school?
Child: I don't know.

We couldn't tell them about Jesus's love, but I can only hope and pray that we were able to show them the love of Christ through our actions and play time.  They definitely showed us what it mean to love like a child.

It also made me think about how often we have the opportunity to tell people about Jesus and we don't.  When we have the opportunity, we fail to seize it.  When we don't have the opportunity, we desire it.

What if the Hokey Pokey really is what it's all about?
But what if it's not? 
And what if we're missing opportunities to speak the Truth?
What if we were better about speaking love?

<>< Katie

Deep thoughts from Bejeweled Blitz

I am officially addicted to Bejeweled Blitz again.  It's a facebook game my mom introduced me to over Christmas break.  I intentionally never downloaded it onto my page because I knew I'd get addicted.  Instead, I was forced to play on hers meaning I needed her to log me in.  Yes, my mother was my enabler.  Over spring break, I discovered her password and no longer needed her assistance to Blitz.  However, I still had some self-control since it wasn't on my page.  As soon as the semester was over, I downloaded the stupid game to my page and have been playing daily since.

If you're not familiar with this addicting game, an 8 by 8 box fills with jewels.  You've got a minute to flip them around one at a time to make lines of three jewels that are the same color.  Once three of the same color are together, they disappear.  If you get four, three disappear and the fourth turns into a flaming jewel.  Line the flaming jewel up with two more and all of the surrounding jewels explode.  There are other features, too, but I want to focus on the flaming jewel.

Since you've only got a minute, I'm always planning a few moves ahead of where I'm flipping.  Sometimes that means a flaming jewel appears and my moves disappear before I get there.  Of course, you get points for this in the game, but sometimes it's annoying.  Sometimes there are so many explosions you kind of sit there staring at the screen like, "When is it my turn to play?"

As I'm wasting hours one minute at a time I'm thinking about life.  A year from now I'll graduate college and I have no idea what I'm doing next.  That terrifies me.  Three years of college down and I still don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life.  Ok, well, I want to write, but what's the career path for that?  I haven't figured that out yet.  Right now I don't even know if I'm going to grad school (where?  to study what?) or going right into the workforce (in this economy?  doing what?).  I'm not tied to any part of the country but there are two states I call home.  I don't have any idea what I'm doing after I graduate, but as this year progresses I'll make plans for my future.  I'm a planner; this is what I do.

Maybe, like the jewels, my plans will explode and something else will replace them.  A lot of times, when the jewels change, better moves appear.  As my plans explode and change, maybe better opportunities will surface. 

I hate all of these unknowns and unexpected changes.  However, I realize I am not alone.  There's a whole facebook support group for those of us facing Blitz addictions.  And there's countless college students pensive about their futures.

I think Nikki said it best a few weeks ago when she said, "I'd just love for God to send me my MASH in the mail and be done with it."  Unfortunately, that letter hasn't come yet, so here I am still pondering and wondering as I flip jewels around and waste my life one minute at a time.

More so than normal, this post was written for my own mulling more than it was for anyone else.  If you were able to follow it and learned something, wonderful!  If not, I'm sorry you wasted your time.  Oh, and please don't tell me I have a year to figure out what I'm doing with the rest of my life.  I might smack you.  Fair warning.

<>< Katie

Do you see what I see?

I've been people-watching a lot lately.  It's kind of as if it's a game to see who can do the weirdest thing.  Here are some highlights:

Andy was standing in the kitchen eating a chunk of ham.  Emily grabbed it, inspected it, marked it as fat-filled, and handed it back to him.  This was immediately before Andy drank my water just to vex me.  Ok, maybe I was antagonizing him, too...

This morning at church a toddler panicked when a man put her father's guitar in his car and drove away.  This was planned, but she didn't know this.

Katie: What is that?  It looks like pepperoni.
Elizabeth: It looks like pepperoni.
Chris: You look like pepperoni.
Andy [to Liz]: You don't look like pepperoni.
Elizabeth: Did I say that?
Yeah, it was well past bedtime.

On Wednesday, Elizabeth and I drove through the Twilight Zone (aka Sketchy McSketch) and drove behind a man making balloon animals while driving.

My favorite, however, was at the wedding I attended on Saturday.  There was this couple rocking the dance floor.  They had all the moves, danced to every song, and were completely in step with one another.  No, not the bride and groom.  This couple was at least 70 years old.  We don't know where they came from, they weren't the grandparents of the bride or groom, but they were having a blast!  Oh, but they weren't blasted.  Some of us teased they came with the dj because they were just that great.  Perhaps they're wedding crashers.  Perhaps we'll never know.  But you know what?  Dance on, cute couple, dance on!  Show us that even at age 70 life is still worth dancing about.  Even though no one knows why you're there, you're having a good time.  Well done!

<>< Katie

Catch Phrase

For being an English major, I'm shockingly bad at Catch Phrase. The words pop up on the screen and those words I want to say are ones I'm not allowed to use. It helps me to know Keith, who speaks almost as many languages and I do, isn't good at it either. He just sits there and screams, "OOHH!, OKAY! UHHH!!!"

I, on the other hand, stare blankly, "I don't know who this is."

"It's a person," someone guesses.

"Yes, a man."
"Describe him."

Okay, if I don't know who a person is, how on earth am I going to describe him? Lucky for me, Allyson started shouting out mens' first names and hits the right one, Jack. My entire team began listing famous people with the first name Jack. When I heard, "Jack Nicholson" I threw the controller at Nikki, sitting behind me on the couch.

"That's not what it says!" Nikki exclaimed. She'd been peering over my shoulder, enjoying my struggle. "It says Jack Nicklaus."

"Are they two different people? I don't know who either one of those people are," I admitted. A year ago I would have struggled and continued the game, lying, if necessary, that I'd heard someone say "Jack Nick-claus."

David leapt to my rescue explaining who each person was, and they gave my team a point anyway.

This same thing happens in Apples to Apples all of the time. I'll throw people-cards cluelessly if I don't have anything better to put in. Sometimes the other players find the choice hilarious and I win; other times they find the card offensive. Oops.

Learning to ask questions and admit when I don't know something,
<>< Katie

PS: I do know that text messages reading, "WHAT NO BLOG YET??? Are you alive? Are you conscious? Did you get eaten by a walrus? You do realize it's almost 4 and thus you have 8 hours left to blog" really mean "My day is not complete until Katie updates her brilliant blog. Perhaps she has forgotten about my dependency on reading it and therefore I shall remind her."

So many memories, so many miles

Four blogs in three days. I must be sick. Actually, I am. :-)

My best friend Mary came over last night. I got home from work and had a splitting headache (remember, the sick part?) and wasn't thrilled about having to play hostess. I kind of vegged around the house and did nothing until about 8:30pm when my phone rang. Without looking at it or talking to her all day, I knew it was Mary, and I knew it was because of the construction. I answered the phone,
"The bridge is out. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."

When she got here, my headache kind of disappeared, and we played games all night long. Cribbage, Life, Scattergories, Stratego, Rack-O, etc. All classic Mary and Katie games. Surprisingly, this time we actually played by the rules and didn't make up our own rules. We've played Cribbage where if you don't want to throw into the crib you don't have to. If you don't like the letter rolled in Scattergories, you can roll again (ok, we did do that a few times, but, come on, how many pizza toppings, diseases, and Biblical women start with "K"?) Although, we still did some of our quirky traditions like naming our kids in Life as they came along...

I've known Mary since I was two. It's fun to hang out with someone like that who knows you soooooo well. We've teased that we aren't allowed to speak at each others' weddings because too many embarrassing stories will come out. Like the flair on facebook says, "We'd better stay friends forever because if we become enemies, we'll have too much blackmail." Even though Mary and I no longer have any common friends, experiences, or hobbies, we can still hold a multi-hour conversation. It's not one-sided. It's not "Oh, you weren't there for that." It's not "Do you know this person?". It's not awkward when the conversation finishes. A few minutes of silence is fine before the next conversation starts itself.

That's how things should be with Jesus. He shouldn't be awkward to talk to. He's always been there. He knows all of the same people. It should be an easy conversation. When the conversation ends, the silence of just being together should be nice before the next conversation begins.

When Mary got hungry while she was here, she didn't ask if I had any food. She'd help herself to the pantry and find food I didn't even know we had. If she wanted something to drink, she found a glass and filled it with ice. Let Jesus raid your pantry. Allow Him to fill your cup! "Have a Mary heart in a Martha world". Sorry, that was bad. See Luke 10. (Did that link really work? That'd make me uber happy if it did!)

After spending twenty-four hours with Mary, I would have expected myself to be sleep deprived. Shocking we were in bed, lights out, talking put on hold by 1 am. It's appalling because we normally try to stay up all night! Even though I got enough sleep, I have no voice. Too much talking (again, remember the sick part?). People here need to learn ASL because I hate not being able to communicate effectively. :-)

<>< Katie

"[Martha] had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. " Luke 10:39