Listening in the Silence

I don't really know if this is blog-appropriate or not but I can't help but share God's sense of humor.

I am very bad at sitting and doing nothing.  Ask my roommates.  I'm always doing something, working on something, going somewhere, or refreshing some internet page.  I don't sit still.  I like to be busy.  The minute I'm done eating, I'm out of the caf.  As soon as there's a pause in the conversation, I excuse myself.  Even when going to bed at night, I focus on praying rather than my constant to-do list or the fictional characters running around in my head.  I like constant motion.

This whole unemployed thing brings constant motion to a screeching halt.

I am trying to use this opportunity to learn to sit in silence before the Lord.  Sit and be still (although, I still wiggle my toes).  Turn off the brain (harder than it sounds).  Don't write, don't read, don't do anything but listen.

The first afternoon I tried, I fell asleep.  I rarely nap during the day and I was sitting on the floor... Two hours later I woke up with a sore neck and no conversation with the Lord.

After dinner, I sat back down on my bedroom floor to try again.  I turned off the music.  Turned off the computer.  Silenced the phone.  Put away the notebook.  And sat in silence, listening for the quiet whispered.  This time I kept my eyes open.

Katie: Ok, God, I'm listening.

And what did I hear?

Someone farting in the bathroom on the other side of the wall.  Not just one.  My private, silent moment with the Lord was interrupted by someone elses' private, not-so-silent moment.

Katie: Wow, You're funny.

That's one of my favorite things to say to God.  A sarcastic, "Wow, You're funny."

Two lessons learned here:
1. God does have a sense of humor.
2. No sitting in silence in the bedroom.

But I'm going to keep trying to sit in silence, as soon as I find a fart-free location where I'm not at risk of falling asleep.

Learning to listen,
<>< Katie

Are you going to pass me or not?

I enjoy people watching. You never know when you're going to see something that's worth using in a story (or blog).

Yesterday we were dumped with snow which made for some great people-watching as I drove around town today. The snowplow shimming around the corner to push the snow further and further off the road. The woman using all of her strength in vain to push the snow blower up her driveway caked with at least a foot of snow. The father (brother?) who lead his young son down the street with a sled ready to take advantage of this blizzard. My favorite, however, was the van that drove behind me through downtown.

He appeared out of nowhere and was not content to drive behind me. On days where the roads are properly plowed and there are no parked cars, this road has a left lane and a right lane. Much to Mr. Impatient's dismay, today was not one of those days. I drove in the left lane, the cleared lane. The problem was that he couldn't pass me on the left due to the no-passing zone (and the minor detail of oncoming traffic). Instead, he opted to pass me on the right. He'd move over into the half-plowed right land and prepare to make a move when all of the sudden directly in front of him was a displaced snowbank or a parked school bus or the mailman. Every time, he'd slow down and sadly return to his place behind me and I'd smile.

That sucks, I thought to myself with a little laughter inside. Not going to lie, I was amused by his poor luck and repeated failed attempts to get around me.

Eventually we made it to a stop light and he pulled up next to me. The light turned green and the race began. I know better than to drag race especially downtown, but I couldn't help myself. This van had been trying to get around me for at least a mile and I wasn't about to let him to it now! A few blocks there was a string of parked cars, and I was going to make it to them first because then Mr. Impatient in the right lane was going to have to return to his position behind Miss Always-Drive-The-Speed-Limit-Katie in the left lane.

Mr. Impatient doesn't drive the speed limit. He won. But only because I let him. Playtime was over.

<>< Katie

God's Sense of Humor

My friend Amber took the Praxis yesterday morning. Since this story involves two Amber's, we'll call the Amber taking the Praxis "Roommate" even though she's not my roommate anymore. We'll call the other Amber "Amber". (Their last names start with the same letter, too, so sorry for the confusion!)

On Friday, we were driving around and Roommate said she needed to get to bed early because she was taking the Praxis the next day and she was really worried about it. Amber asked the time of the Praxis and said she'd pray for Roommate. She even said she'd get up at 7:30 in the morning (Praxis time) and pray for an hour.
"I'll pray for you tonight," I said implying that I would be praying for Roommate but refused to get my lazy rear-end out of bed at 7:30 to pray for her... We laughed about that and went on with the evening.

Well, Saturday morning I woke up at 7:30, Praxis time.
"Wow, you're funny," I said sarcastically to God (I say that to Him all the time... it's kind of become our inside joke, I guess :-)), said a little prayer for Roommate and rolled over and went back to sleep. An hour later, I woke up again. It was Praxis ending time, I said another little prayer for Roommate, rolled over and went back to sleep. A little over an hour later, I woke up again. "God, it's not Praxis time anymore, would You just let me sleep?" I groaned, said another little prayer and went back to sleep. An hour later I woke up AGAIN. "This isn't funny anymore!" Said another little prayer and went back to sleep.

In talking to Roommate today, the times I woke up where when she was doing something important. Arriving at the testing location, taking the test, leaving, arriving home again, etc. We both got a good laugh out of God's sense of humor. He's clearly paying attention if He's waking me up at exact times following my half-joking comment the night before.

In Christ,
<>< Katie