Well, the semester is winding down and the to-do list is still long. I have things to say but no time to process them into a way that is coherent. My apologies. All of my coherent thoughts are going towards my thesis which is one page at a time progressing into something worth turning in. With that said, here's a scripture I've been reading and rereading a lot lately.
"Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: the faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritance; therefore I will hope in Him.'" Lamentations 3:21-24
I hope all is well with you, cyber friends.
I'll have a longer, more coherent post for you on Wednesday or Thursday.
Please let me know how I can best pray for you!
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label mercy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mercy. Show all posts
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The War is Over
Thankful for the three layers under her red winter jacket, she sits in a rocking chair on the front porch. The cars cruise down the highway, most of them obliviously to her obscure location.
Wishing she'd opted for the hot chocolate instead, she attempts to maneuver her gloved hand around the spoon in her McFlurry. Her dinner, a Taco Bell Chulupa with chicken, sits in her lap forgotten. Not unlike she is.
"You want to let me in?" she calls on her cell phone.
"Oh... uh... shoot... well... see... uh... um... we're still at the grocery store," explains the voice on the other end. "We're on our way back," he lies.
The clock tower lets out a chime. It's 5:45. According to the invitation, the Superbowl party in the boys' dorm started fifteen minutes earlier. For the first time in her life, she's glad she didn't arrive on time.
The ice cream in her cup does not threaten to melt, but she's slowly losing feeling in her fingers as she touches the plastic spoon to her lips.
"He begged me to come," she said aloud to herself, remembering the pleading facebook messages asking her to ditch the Superbowl party in her apartment to attend his. Now he's failed to arrive at his own party and left her sitting in the cold.
Ten minutes later, the ice cream is gone; she is still waiting. Suddenly, the door behind her pops open revealing the morgue turned boy's dorm as her party host bursts out into the chilling winter night. She glances at her watch and starts up at him.
"We have chips," he says with a sly smile.
Of course, chips make her frost bite worthwhile because now instead of begging for mercy, he'll beg for grace, and he'll want it in the form of cheese chip dip. Yet she'll give it. If only in the name of forgiveness and familial love.
-------
Dear Mr. Kevin Kassakatis,
I was not going to update my blog twice today. However, your tasteless, rude behavior this evening left me no choice. I have considered this your forfeiting the war and will being my victory dance as soon as I thaw.
Kind regards,
<>< Katie Ax
PS: But I still love you.
Wishing she'd opted for the hot chocolate instead, she attempts to maneuver her gloved hand around the spoon in her McFlurry. Her dinner, a Taco Bell Chulupa with chicken, sits in her lap forgotten. Not unlike she is.
"You want to let me in?" she calls on her cell phone.
"Oh... uh... shoot... well... see... uh... um... we're still at the grocery store," explains the voice on the other end. "We're on our way back," he lies.
The clock tower lets out a chime. It's 5:45. According to the invitation, the Superbowl party in the boys' dorm started fifteen minutes earlier. For the first time in her life, she's glad she didn't arrive on time.
The ice cream in her cup does not threaten to melt, but she's slowly losing feeling in her fingers as she touches the plastic spoon to her lips.
"He begged me to come," she said aloud to herself, remembering the pleading facebook messages asking her to ditch the Superbowl party in her apartment to attend his. Now he's failed to arrive at his own party and left her sitting in the cold.
Ten minutes later, the ice cream is gone; she is still waiting. Suddenly, the door behind her pops open revealing the morgue turned boy's dorm as her party host bursts out into the chilling winter night. She glances at her watch and starts up at him.
"We have chips," he says with a sly smile.
Of course, chips make her frost bite worthwhile because now instead of begging for mercy, he'll beg for grace, and he'll want it in the form of cheese chip dip. Yet she'll give it. If only in the name of forgiveness and familial love.
-------
Dear Mr. Kevin Kassakatis,
I was not going to update my blog twice today. However, your tasteless, rude behavior this evening left me no choice. I have considered this your forfeiting the war and will being my victory dance as soon as I thaw.
Kind regards,
<>< Katie Ax
PS: But I still love you.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
A Letter to You
Class prompt: Spend one hour right now responding to a letter you received from a friend who is struggling with the Christian faith. For the next hour, I cried, I prayed, I scribbled, and I erased. Ultimately, I didn't write this; God did. I am the pen; He is the writer. I tried to edit the grammar mistakes without recrafting sentences I don't like.
Feel free to put your name in when it says, "Friend."
In Christ,
<>< Katie
Dear Friend,
It saddens me to hear about your struggles regarding faith. First of all, I would like you to understand that I am praying for you as you go through this challenging time.
God adores you, Friend. Psalm 139 talks about how He knit you together before you were born. He's chosen you to be His creation, formed to be exactly who He wants you to be. Here's the kicker: He's not done yet. He's still working on you because you're a work in progress. He hasn't given up on you, so I'd encourage you not to give up on Him.
In your letter you talked about how to know God is real. You're right, it's hard when you can't run in to Him at Wal-mart. Not in a physical way, at least. However, just because you can't see and touch Him doesn't mean He isn't there. Personally, I find that to be the cool part: He's always there, even when I can't hear and feel Him. Sometimes He likes to be silent. I like to imagine He's watching and observing and just enjoying being with you. He's not gone. He hasn't moved at all, actually.
You mentioned one of the hardest parts about God is the whole prayer thing. You're right, sometimes it is like you're talking to wall. You talk and pray and pour over your words unsure what to say. Don't give up before you say anything at all. It's just like talking. Nothing special. No fancy words needed. In fact, you can completely eliminate all of the "thees," "thous," and "shalls," if you want. I mean, if you really love those kinds of words go ahead and keep going with them. My suggestion is a simple prayer Bob Lenz taught us back in 2004. Remember? "God, help. Amen." Simple. Yet profound. I also love the Lord's Prayer and it can be found in Matthew 6.
On Friday I was reminded of something cool. Christianity is potentially the only religion that offers forgiveness. Sure, you messed up. So have I. God knows our mess-ups. That's terrifying, right? I know. But it's also cool. Cool because He knows everything we've done but He still loves us. He's still forgiven us, still accepted us, still died for us. That's the beauty of grace and mercy. Mercy is God not giving us what we deserve (death because we've messed up). Grace is God giving us what we don't deserve (life, namely eternal life). My friend Ron explained it to me once like this: say you're outside playing and you get all muddy before running through the house and making a huge mess. Mercy is your mom not getting mad and punishing you. Grace is when she hands you a plate of cookies even though you made a big mess. She still loves you. God loves you through your skrew-ups and your questions.
Questions are good, my friend. Questions help us know people are thinking. Never be afraid to ask questions. The challenge is that sometimes we ask questions and don't get answers we want or worse don't get any answers at all.
Silence stings.
I've been there. Sitting in the silence waiting, wondering. However, I am learning to enjoy the silence. Learning to realize I don't need answers to all of my questions. If I knew everything about God then there would no longer be the need for faith. "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). We all memorized that verse in confirmation class way back in the day.
Back when we studied baptism, communion, the ten commandments, confirmation, etc. All of the things that you find challenging now. I suppose 8th grade as a long time ago. Have you been asking unanswered questions since then?
I will confess, I have. They're not all unanswered, of course, but a lot of them are still unanswered. Especially the "why" questions I don't anticipate those answers on this side of heaven. In fact, many of them I've written down and set aside as if to say, "I'm not dwelling on this anymore."
I've got to head to class and I want to get this in the mail before the post office closes. Can we get together to chat in person? I've love to hear more of your thoughts, questions, and uncertainties.
Until then, realize God loves you so much that He sent His Son to die for you. Have you ever had anyone die for you? What about Someone who died for you but didn't stay dead? Someone who knows your anxious thoughts and desires to soothe your fears? Someone who cares a lot about you.
Have you ever watched an engaged father play with his young child? Whether they play baseball or ride bikes or paint the house or just plain be together. The joy you see between the two of them sharing life together. That's the joy God wants in sharing life with you.
He loves you, Friend. With an immeasurable love that is beyond what we can fathom.
In the words of Max Lucado, "God thinks you're great."
And I do, too.
Love,
Katie
Feel free to put your name in when it says, "Friend."
In Christ,
<>< Katie
Dear Friend,
It saddens me to hear about your struggles regarding faith. First of all, I would like you to understand that I am praying for you as you go through this challenging time.
God adores you, Friend. Psalm 139 talks about how He knit you together before you were born. He's chosen you to be His creation, formed to be exactly who He wants you to be. Here's the kicker: He's not done yet. He's still working on you because you're a work in progress. He hasn't given up on you, so I'd encourage you not to give up on Him.
In your letter you talked about how to know God is real. You're right, it's hard when you can't run in to Him at Wal-mart. Not in a physical way, at least. However, just because you can't see and touch Him doesn't mean He isn't there. Personally, I find that to be the cool part: He's always there, even when I can't hear and feel Him. Sometimes He likes to be silent. I like to imagine He's watching and observing and just enjoying being with you. He's not gone. He hasn't moved at all, actually.
You mentioned one of the hardest parts about God is the whole prayer thing. You're right, sometimes it is like you're talking to wall. You talk and pray and pour over your words unsure what to say. Don't give up before you say anything at all. It's just like talking. Nothing special. No fancy words needed. In fact, you can completely eliminate all of the "thees," "thous," and "shalls," if you want. I mean, if you really love those kinds of words go ahead and keep going with them. My suggestion is a simple prayer Bob Lenz taught us back in 2004. Remember? "God, help. Amen." Simple. Yet profound. I also love the Lord's Prayer and it can be found in Matthew 6.
On Friday I was reminded of something cool. Christianity is potentially the only religion that offers forgiveness. Sure, you messed up. So have I. God knows our mess-ups. That's terrifying, right? I know. But it's also cool. Cool because He knows everything we've done but He still loves us. He's still forgiven us, still accepted us, still died for us. That's the beauty of grace and mercy. Mercy is God not giving us what we deserve (death because we've messed up). Grace is God giving us what we don't deserve (life, namely eternal life). My friend Ron explained it to me once like this: say you're outside playing and you get all muddy before running through the house and making a huge mess. Mercy is your mom not getting mad and punishing you. Grace is when she hands you a plate of cookies even though you made a big mess. She still loves you. God loves you through your skrew-ups and your questions.
Questions are good, my friend. Questions help us know people are thinking. Never be afraid to ask questions. The challenge is that sometimes we ask questions and don't get answers we want or worse don't get any answers at all.
Silence stings.
I've been there. Sitting in the silence waiting, wondering. However, I am learning to enjoy the silence. Learning to realize I don't need answers to all of my questions. If I knew everything about God then there would no longer be the need for faith. "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). We all memorized that verse in confirmation class way back in the day.
Back when we studied baptism, communion, the ten commandments, confirmation, etc. All of the things that you find challenging now. I suppose 8th grade as a long time ago. Have you been asking unanswered questions since then?
I will confess, I have. They're not all unanswered, of course, but a lot of them are still unanswered. Especially the "why" questions I don't anticipate those answers on this side of heaven. In fact, many of them I've written down and set aside as if to say, "I'm not dwelling on this anymore."
I've got to head to class and I want to get this in the mail before the post office closes. Can we get together to chat in person? I've love to hear more of your thoughts, questions, and uncertainties.
Until then, realize God loves you so much that He sent His Son to die for you. Have you ever had anyone die for you? What about Someone who died for you but didn't stay dead? Someone who knows your anxious thoughts and desires to soothe your fears? Someone who cares a lot about you.
Have you ever watched an engaged father play with his young child? Whether they play baseball or ride bikes or paint the house or just plain be together. The joy you see between the two of them sharing life together. That's the joy God wants in sharing life with you.
He loves you, Friend. With an immeasurable love that is beyond what we can fathom.
In the words of Max Lucado, "God thinks you're great."
And I do, too.
Love,
Katie
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Beautiful Scars
I just started playing with the color feature, can you tell? Every thing's purple and I don't know how to change it back... haha
I love summer. It's warm, wonderful, and without school! There are also days when I'm not a fan of summer. You see, having a tan makes my scars visible. Maybe only to me, but they make me self conscious, and I hate looking in the mirror in the summer.
Some people have fun scars. My friend Brianne takes pride in telling me how she got every scar, bruise, and scratch up and down her legs. My scars aren't so fun. When I was little (like six) somehow I took a nose dive on pavement. I don't remember the incident, but I remember the nice scab is left between my two eyebrows. Eventually it went away, but it left this brown mark there for years afterwards. I used to tell everyone it was a birthmark. Sometimes my mom'd correct me and tell me it was a scar from the scratch I had for months. Sometimes she'd just let me think it was a birthmark. Well, eventually the "birthmark" went away, so I guess she must have been right.
The scars I'm more self-conscious about line my underarms as souvenirs from a Girl Scouts camping trip. I was trying to put the fire out, leaned over too far, and fell into smoldering coals. This resulted in the only ER trip of my life (besides when I was born... another story for another time... that one's actually funny) and second and third degree burns up and down both of my arms. (Oh, and a nice bruise on my leg). I had a miserable summer that year because I couldn't go swimming, I had to go to the doctor every few weeks, and it was almost impossible to wash my hands (Have you ever tried to wash and dry one hand?). Now, everyday when I put my hair up in a ponytail, I see the scars where my skin is messed up. Apparently, burning your arms kills the cells that tell your skin to stop growing (or something like that... My parents told me that recently when we were talking about it...). It also leaves fun designs on tanned skin... It's anything but beautiful.
You know Whose scars are beautiful? Jesus'. Physically the scars in His hands, feet, and side aren't necessarily beautiful but what they symbolize definitely is! Thanks to Jesus' scars, we're forgiven. Jesus' scars are the perfect example of God's mercy and grace. Mercy--God not giving us something we deserve--saved us from having those scars ourselves. Grace--God giving us something we don't deserve--sent Jesus to the cross so we didn't have to paid the price for our sin. The Sinless died for the sinful. You can't tell me that's not beautiful.
Lately, most blogs have included the lyrics to a song. Here's today's:
"Beautiful Scars" by Steven Curtis Chapman
Sit here with me
And tell me your story
Even if it breaks my heart
Let me see Your scars
Shame will whisper
Oh but we can't listen
'Cause these are the stories that make us who we are
And I love who You are,
and Your Beautiful scars,
Your beautiful scars
Reminders of the wounded love that has carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
turning the marks
Of our pain into beautiful scars
For us, bruised and broken
For us, He was forsaken
Our wounded Healer suffered to set us free
We see in His hands and His feet
Beautiful scars, beautiful scars
Reminders of the wounded love that has carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
turning the marks
Of our pain into beautiful scars
See in His hands and His feet
Beautiful scars, beautiful scars
Reminders of the Savior's love that has carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
turning the marks
Of our pain into beautiful scars
Oh how I love Your beautiful scars
So beautiful, so beautiful
Beautiful scars
In Christ,
<>< Katie
I love summer. It's warm, wonderful, and without school! There are also days when I'm not a fan of summer. You see, having a tan makes my scars visible. Maybe only to me, but they make me self conscious, and I hate looking in the mirror in the summer.
Some people have fun scars. My friend Brianne takes pride in telling me how she got every scar, bruise, and scratch up and down her legs. My scars aren't so fun. When I was little (like six) somehow I took a nose dive on pavement. I don't remember the incident, but I remember the nice scab is left between my two eyebrows. Eventually it went away, but it left this brown mark there for years afterwards. I used to tell everyone it was a birthmark. Sometimes my mom'd correct me and tell me it was a scar from the scratch I had for months. Sometimes she'd just let me think it was a birthmark. Well, eventually the "birthmark" went away, so I guess she must have been right.
The scars I'm more self-conscious about line my underarms as souvenirs from a Girl Scouts camping trip. I was trying to put the fire out, leaned over too far, and fell into smoldering coals. This resulted in the only ER trip of my life (besides when I was born... another story for another time... that one's actually funny) and second and third degree burns up and down both of my arms. (Oh, and a nice bruise on my leg). I had a miserable summer that year because I couldn't go swimming, I had to go to the doctor every few weeks, and it was almost impossible to wash my hands (Have you ever tried to wash and dry one hand?). Now, everyday when I put my hair up in a ponytail, I see the scars where my skin is messed up. Apparently, burning your arms kills the cells that tell your skin to stop growing (or something like that... My parents told me that recently when we were talking about it...). It also leaves fun designs on tanned skin... It's anything but beautiful.
You know Whose scars are beautiful? Jesus'. Physically the scars in His hands, feet, and side aren't necessarily beautiful but what they symbolize definitely is! Thanks to Jesus' scars, we're forgiven. Jesus' scars are the perfect example of God's mercy and grace. Mercy--God not giving us something we deserve--saved us from having those scars ourselves. Grace--God giving us something we don't deserve--sent Jesus to the cross so we didn't have to paid the price for our sin. The Sinless died for the sinful. You can't tell me that's not beautiful.
Lately, most blogs have included the lyrics to a song. Here's today's:
"Beautiful Scars" by Steven Curtis Chapman
Sit here with me
And tell me your story
Even if it breaks my heart
Let me see Your scars
Shame will whisper
Oh but we can't listen
'Cause these are the stories that make us who we are
And I love who You are,
and Your Beautiful scars,
Your beautiful scars
Reminders of the wounded love that has carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
turning the marks
Of our pain into beautiful scars
For us, bruised and broken
For us, He was forsaken
Our wounded Healer suffered to set us free
We see in His hands and His feet
Beautiful scars, beautiful scars
Reminders of the wounded love that has carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
turning the marks
Of our pain into beautiful scars
See in His hands and His feet
Beautiful scars, beautiful scars
Reminders of the Savior's love that has carried us this far
Beautiful scars,
turning the marks
Of our pain into beautiful scars
Oh how I love Your beautiful scars
So beautiful, so beautiful
Beautiful scars
In Christ,
<>< Katie
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