Listen

I woke up with a sore throat.  I had hoped it would get better as the day progressed.  It didn't.  By the middle of the afternoon I sounded like Kermit the frog.

Wonderful.

I thought about not going to small group.  It was a 45 minute drive there at the end of rush hour and a 45 minute drive back at 11pm.  I was already exhausted from making that same trek once that morning.  And I was sick.

Do I go and risk infecting other people with this sudden illness?  Do I stay home and try to fight it?

I'm not a "stay home because I have a cold" person.  I get colds a lot, so I'd miss out on a lot of life if I stayed home every time.

So over to the mansion I drove.  When I got there, I learned half of the other people had colds, too.  Last week we were all healthy; this week we had a germ-sharing party.

A sniffler.  A sneezer.  Kermit.  What a choir!

Out came the guitar to sing some praise and worship songs.

Sometimes my speaking voice "frogs" before my singing voice or vice versa.  It's rare they're both nasty at the same time.  But, then again, I don't usually go from fine to Kermit in one day.

I apologized to the girl sitting next to me and tried to sing.  Yup, nothing.

Time to move my lips and life a joyful noise from my heart...

Time to listen.  Losing your normal voice is like being put in time out.  Sometimes it's just not physically possible to speak.  Other times it hurts.  Or you just don't want to hear yourself.

"I'm worshipping YOU, God," I said in my traditional frog-voice campaign.

Listen, God spoke to my heart.

Is this like Guatemala but without the orange paint? I want to sing.

Listen.  You sang on Sunday.

Thank You that I had a voice to participate in such a wonderful, Spirit-filled praise and worship service on Sunday.  I'm sorry it took losing my voice today to be grateful for something I took for granted yesterday.  Lesson learned.  [pause] Can I have it back now?

<>< Kermit

Worship Around the Campfire

We sat out by the fire literally in the middle of the woods.  No buildings, no platform tents within sight.  The trees opened to the stars illuminating the autumn sky.  The babbling brook down the hill accompanied our singing.  We did a mix of acoustic and a capella worship songs to our God, the Creator of this beautiful moment.

Listening to Mindy's rockstar voice, I'll admit, I got a bit jealous.  I enjoy singing; I do a decent job.  I don't sound like Mindy.  At all.

I watched an eight year old pick and play in the fire.  I'm not sure if it's my history of burns or my natural inclination towards safety but I've never been a fire picker.  I'm barely brave enough to roast a marshmallow.

I watched Kurt rhythmically strum his guitar.  Despite the smoke in his face, his fingers found the frets.  Allyson's slowly teaching me guitar.  But I only know four chords.

A high schooler cuddled with the camp dog.  I've always been more of a cat person, an idea reinforced when I was attacked by dogs a few weeks ago.

A chaperone faithfully kept the fire burning.  Not so big that we all had to scoot back.  Not so small that we needed additional blankets for heat.  Just perfect.

God, I said in my head, You've given Mindy the gift of singing.  She sounds wonderful.  You've given Kurt the gift to play guitar.  It's peaceful.  You've given these other folks bravery and fire-building abilities.  It's so great that we can all be here together amidst Your beautiful creation to enjoy this moment.

Katie, God responded, not in an audible voice, You're jealous that you can't sing like Mindy, play guitar like Kurt, find a cuddle-buddy in a limping, four-legged friend, and build a fire like the one we've got here.  But you know what you can do?  Make twenty s'mores in less than five minutes.  Ready, set, go.

"I'm ready for some chocolate and graham crackers..."
"Me, too."

Chaos.  And I only broke one half of a cracker.

<>< Katie

"Now if the foot should say, 'Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, 'Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I don’t need you!' And the head cannot say to the feet, 'I don’t need you!' On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." 1 Corinthians 12:15-27

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

Jesus Shoes

"It's so funny because guitar is one of the biggest things I'm going to use in India, and I haven't touched mine in almost a week," Jesus Shoes told us this afternoon.

On Thursday he's headed to India for six months to be a witness for Christ and live up to his name: Jesus Shoes. That isn't his real name.

Last spring, my ministry team and I led a weekend youth retreat where we had a plethora of very similar names. For some reason, the youth could not get our worship leaders' names right. Instead of refering to them by instrument, the high school girls nicknamed both of them: Broken Arm Guy and Jesus Shoes. Jesus Shoes wore Chacos, and Broken Arm Guy proving it is possible to play piano while sporting a beautiful lime green cast.

At first neither one of our worship leaders liked their nicknames but didn't have the hearts to correct the youth; it was only for a weekend, after all. Personally, I think the nicknames were pretty appropriate, but I let Broken Arm Guy drop his nickname after the weekend. Jesus Shoes, however, has stuck in my mind.

As Jesus Shoes prepares for his journey to India, his name seems even more appropriate. After all, he's headed across the world to be Jesus' hands and feet. Jesus' shoes?

While what area of ministry exactly he's going to be working with in India is still being determined, he knows he'll be teaching guitar to some of the youth. This actually worries him because he doesn't have any idea how to teach guitar. Besides his putzing a little bit in my living room this afternoon, he hasn't played guitar in almost a week. When he gets to India, his guitar-playing hours will be almost unlimited, but due to time contraints he hasn't been able to play much lately.

Hey, Jesus Shoes, you're going to India to teach guitar but you haven't played this week. Hey, Jesus Shoes, you're going to India to preach the gospel, have you read it this week? I realize that's a dumb question. Or is it?

I think it's something we all need to ask ourselves on a regular basis. If we're here to be witnesses, have we showed God's love this week? No matter where we are, we're on a mission. Are we being Jesus' hands and feet?

Know you are loved and will be missed; riding the dolly through the storage unit in a tornado warning just isn't the same without you, brother. Represent our Father well. Be safe in India, but never forget that you are to be Jesus' Shoes.

With love,
<>< Katie

PS: My blogs are not pointless. Only some of them.