For His Glory No Matter What

I saw the ambulance. I was sitting in the front window of the coffee shop when it whizzed by. I zoned out watching it, noticing it was EMS rather than the local rescue team. Didn't mean much.

From the front window of the coffee shop you can see everything that's happening in town. I could see the ambulance was not headed towards the nursing home. It could have been headed towards campus, but I couldn't tell. Didn't mean much.

It did prompt me to think about how we have not lost a student since I started. Sure, students have had seizures, passed out, dislocated shoulders in class but they've all been fine in a few hours or days. We've lost professors, staff members, and family members. But never a student.

I went back to my work.

Not long after that, I saw the same ambulance return in the direction from which it came, sirens still on. I thought about Tweeting about how it's not a good sign when an ambulance returns from a call with its lights and siren.

Despite the town only having one stoplight, despite my roommate working in campus ministries, despite seeing the ambulance, I learned from Twitter that one of my sisters in Christ had passed away.

The world stopped.

I didn't recognize her name, but I knew her face. I definitely knew her face. I've heard her testimony.

It was her birthday.

The night before she'd Tweeted that she was excited for the next day. I'm sure she had no idea how exciting it would be for her. She got to celebrate her earthly birthday with the Lord.

That morning, she'd Tweeted and thanked the Lord for another year of her life. That night, He took her home.

Sniffles and tears were overwhelming at our weekly worship service last night. My roommate had hugged her the morning she went Home. Others had been in her class. We were all grieving.

And it's ok to cry. It's ok to be sad. Jesus was. When His friend Lazarus died, the Bible says Jesus wept.

Yet still there was an element of joy in the air. We knew (and know) that she is with the Lord.

You see, this sister I never had the pleasure to hug, loved the Lord. A lot.

We know that her death is not in vain. We know that she's in the arms of our Father. We know that she would be overjoyed if everyone (if anyone) came to know the Lord through her death.

We celebrated. We praised the Lord. We know that He is good even when life is bad. His timing is perfect even when ours is a little off.

Yes, it's hard. Yes, we thought He was going to do a lot more with her on this earth. Yes, we know that her testimony will continue to inspire, to encourage, and to draw people to Him. It's all she wanted to do with her life and now in her death.

That's what I want my life and death to be about: the glory of the Lord. Today. Tomorrow. Every day until I'm called home. And even then.

If you don't mind, can you take a few seconds right now and pray for us? Pray for her family. Pray for her friends, roommates, and colleagues. Pray for this campus, this town. Thank God that He took one of His children home rather than a student who didn't know Him. Thank Him for His goodness and journeying with us.

But don't pray for her. It's not necessary. She's ok because she's in the arms of the Father. And if she's not in heaven, then we're all in trouble. But I know she is.

And next time you see an ambulance, do me a favor and pray for the patient, the team, and the team meeting him/her. Pray for the family, the friends. Pray that God be glorified as He as been here.

This verse was very important to her. It is now very important to me.

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek." Romans 1:16

Today's a gift, friends. It's the most important day of your life. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow isn't promised.

You never know when you're going to be called home. It could be in the middle of class on your 21st birthday.

And I'm ok with that.

<>< Katie

A Close Encounter

I am thankful for the grace of God and His arms of protection.

After safely driving eleven-plus hours, Amber and I were within a mile of our destination when life could have changed dramatically.

Katie: Your roads are narrow here.
Amber: Not really.  It's because I'm driving in the middle of the road due to the deer.  If I go back where I belong they're not that narrow.
Katie: I guess so.

As she was returning to her place in the middle of the road, a deer as tall as the car charged our passenger side.

I only saw the buck out of my peripheral vision, but Amber saw him head-on.  We cannot explain how.  He was in her blind spot, so we think she might have looked at me to talk.  If she hadn't, his antlers would have been through the window (and possibly into my head?).  As it were, she swerved towards the center of the road the same time the deer changed direction and ran parallel to our car.

Katie: Did you hit him?
Amber: I DON'T KNOW!  Did you hear anything?
Katie: Nothing that sounded like deer-hitting noises.  Only gravel squishing noises.

Upon further inspection of her car, there are no antler scratches and no deer fur.

There is no reason we should have made it home unscratched.  We were charged by a buck!  And yet we did.  Because God is good.  All the time.

<>< Katie

Of course, when we got home a mile later, the adrenaline was still pumping and going to bed was not an option, even though we had to be up again in less than seven hours. That morning was rough.

Tales of Nikki and Katie: The Episode of the Bike (Helmet)

In my family, when you turn double-digits, you get two big presents: a mountain bike and a bedroom set.  It kind of worked that way for me and my parents kept the tradition for my sisters.  So, on my tenth birthday we all hopped in the van and drove to the same bike shop where my mom and grandfather got their first adult bikes.  I still remember the day. This must have been before my purple phase because I came home with a maroon bike that I absolutely loved and a red helmet I tolerated.  I'm now twenty-one and that same bike came to college with me. 

Nikki hates to walk everywhere from our middle-of-nowhere apartment, so I offered her the use of my bike.  Problem: I'm tall; Nikki's not.  We tried to find a seat-height that would satisfy both of us but couldn't.  Finally we realized the seat moves very easily, a brand new feature back in 1999 when I bought my bike.  When Nikki wanted to ride it, she could lower the seat.  When I wanted to ride my bike, I could raise it.  Very simple; very easy.  I told her the code to my combination lock, and we were set.

A few days later, my bike was missing from our second-story porch because Nikki took me up on my offer.  Except Nikki was in the living room.
Katie: Where's my bike?
Nikki: OH MY GOSH!  Katie, you have the smallest seat in the world!
Katie: I have the smallest butt in the world.
Nikki: It's in my office.  I rode it to work and go so fed up with it that I got a car ride back.

This was Friday meaning my bike was locked in there over the weekend.  Not really a big deal.  Nikki also conveniently wore a dress for the next several days meaning she couldn't ride my bike back.

Nikki: Next time you're up near the caf, swing by my office and pick up your bike because it might stay there all semester if you don't, and we really need the space back.
Katie: Yeah, I'll remember to take my helmet with me to the caf.  That's not dorky.

Last fall, I crashed on my bike.  My thoughts went something like this, "Road?  Sidewalk?  Road?  Sidewalk?  Road.  Crap, speed bumps.  Just kidding!  Sidewalk."

I learned something very important: You can't do "just kidding" on a bike.  Indecisiveness leads to skinned knees

Since I've always been very safety conscious and I have a history of bike crashes, I wear a red helmet when I ride my maroon bike.  I also ski with a purple helmet and have been known to Wii Bowl in my ski helmet.  Yes, everyone laughs at me.  I've decided I'd rather be the dork with the helmet than the dork with the broken head.

When I did finally retrieve my bike from Nikki's office, I rode it down the hallway, on the sidewalk, through the grass, across the parking lot, up the hill, through the building, and up the stairs without a helmet.  It was terrifying.  And liberating. 

When I told my mom this story, she laughed all the way through it.  When I got to the "So I rescued my bike and rode it home without a helmet" part she said she was proud of me.  Huh?!

And now I face a major decision: Helmet or no helmet?  That is the question.

<>< Katie

Rock Climbing

It's Pastor Russ's birthday today, so that means it's time to tell me favorite Pastor Russ story.  OK, so I have a lot of favorite Pastor Russ stories and quotes ("Don't be naked; it's dumb to be naked; wear clothes in the shower"), but this is the best that's not a "you had to be there" story.  I've told it a million times, and I've blogged it before.  (Side note: that blog was the first time I ever got a comment.  Thanks, Drums!)  It's one of those stories I'll be telling for the rest of my life, so I don't feel bad about telling it again.  If you've heard it before (or read it before), enjoy it again.

While I was in high school my youth group took a day trip to an indoor rocking climbing course.  Most of the climbs were set up on an auto belay system so anyone could do them.  Belayer and climber both clip in and they're good to go.  The belayer is even clipped to the ground just in case the heavier climber slips.  This is great for light-weight belayers like me who are at risk for flying into the air when their climber takes a misstep.  It's really inconvenient for both of you to be dangling in the air; trust me.

Anyway, this particular day I'd done most of the easier climbs and decided I wanted more of a challenge.  Eyeing up a climb in the corner, I opted to try it.  I vaguely remembered climbing this one years earlier as a younger child and I didn't make it all the way up.  I wanted to go for it again and this time make it to the ceiling.  There was one problem: this climb was challenging enough that it wasn't an auto belay for your average amateur belayer.  I needed to find someone certified to correctly tie in my harness and belay for me.  Lucky for me, Pastor Russ, one of our chaperones, was ready and willing to do that.

Trying to make conversation instead of standing there awkwardly while he tied in my harness, I was teasing that since he tied me in he was responsible for my falling and breaking a leg.  I said, "Now, if I fall, it's your fault."

He smiled and said, "If you fall, it's not my fault, but I'll catch you."

I wasn't really scared to try this climb but that was incredibly reassuring.

Isn't that was Jesus says to us on a regular basis: "If you fall, it's not my fault, but I'll catch you."  It's not His fault that we've messed up, but we've done it and He's here to clean up the mess.  It's not His fault when we stumble; it's His hand with the firm grasp on our arm to catch us.

"If you fall, it's not my fault, but I'll catch you."
Let Him whispered that truth into your life today.

By the way, after slipping a few times, I did make it to the top of that climb, but I couldn't have done it on my own.

<>< Katie

Buckle Up... It's the Law

Sometimes I feel like our trips in the car should be a blog saga. Might I add, that the longest travel time is twenty minutes and the shortest is three. It's usually the same people, so this could be like a column in a newspaper but really it's a blog.

They all start in the same way: Elizabeth and me fighting over shot gun. Sometimes I win; sometimes she wins. Either way it's a physical struggle between the two of us. We're both the oldest of three girls so we know how to fight and don't always fight fair. Hair pulling is not out of the question.

On Tuesday, Elizabeth won, so Amy and I sat in the back. Once seats are assigned and we all crawl in the second fight beings: to wear a seat belt or not to wear a seat belt, that is the question.

"Are you wearing your seat belts?" Andy asks every time. For the record, my seat belt is always on. It's Amy and Elizabeth that he has to worry about. They have been known to unbuckle each other so they can honestly answer "no" when he asks "Did you just unbuckle your seat belt?" He still pulled over and refused to go again until their seat belts were on correctly.

"I'll put my seat belt on if Katie takes hers off," Amy argued. I took my seat belt off. She put hers on. I put mine on. She took hers off. "And keeps it off!" That wasn't part of the deal.
"No, no, no the law says everyone in the vehicle must have their seat belts on at all times," Andy argued.

"Andy, do you plan on crashing?" Elizabeth asked.
"I don't think anyone plans on crashing. I think that's why it's called an accident," I suggested.
"But, really, Andy, you're a safe driver; he drives ambulances. We'll be ok."
"Put your seat belt on anyway," he argued.
"No! I've got a great Mom Arm. If we crash I'll just use my Mom Arm to save myself," Elizabeth suggested.
"You can't Mom Arm yourself. That just doesn't work!" Andy argued.
"Fine the I'll Mom Arm you and your seat belt will save us both."
For some reason I don't think that's going to work either.

"I'll put my seat belt on if Amy puts on her seat belt," Elizabeth started.
"I'll put on my seat belt if Elizabeth puts on her seat belt," Amy countered.
"Ok, on the count of three the two of you are going to simultaneously put on your seat belts... One... two... three!" Failure.

"If you don't put your seat belt on Katie's going to hold your shoulders, and I'm sure her hands are cold," Andy told Elizabeth.

Ten minutes after we got in the car both girls put on their respective seat belts which remained on for the duration of our three minute venture. Although it is always a concern. If he hadn't been driving stick shift I think he would have held Elizabeth's hands in his to prevent her from removing her seat belt.

While we were driving we created a what-if scenario regarding the importance of seat belts. My own accident story apparently isn't good enough for them.

"What if a deer jumps out in the middle of the road, I hit it, and you go flying through the windshield because you weren't wearing your seat belt and your Mom Arm failed. Then you crack your head open on the road and blood is spewing everywhere!" Andy started our hypothetical.

"You're trained to handle that," she said mocking Andy's EMS training; this has become one of our favorite lines (third favorite to be exact. The first two are "That's what she said" and "-er? You barely know her!").

"What if the airbag pushed me backwards while seat belt-less Amy is pushed forward behind me so we clunk heads and both pass out. Now you're still bleeding to death in the middle of the street," Andy continued.

"Katie, will you call 9-1-1 before you go crazy and start sanitizing everything?" Elizabeth asked me.

"I can't. My cell phone was in the bag you chucked into the elevator a half hour ago. Sorry," I said.

I was still sitting helplessly in the back seat, seatbelt fastened and hand sanitizer ready, as my friends struggled for consciousness when our hypothetical came to an abrupt hault. It was not by choice, however. You see at that very moment we learned the meaning of the word "irony." From the woods on our left jumped a deer. There was a mix of laughter and shock in the car as the deer disappeared into the woods across the stree.

No, Andy didn't hit it and our bizarre scenario didn't come to fruition, but I think Elizabeth and Amy will wear their seat belts next time we all go for a joy ride in Charlie.

And to think this post was going to be "Why I Wear a Helmet"... That'll be next week. :-)

Buckle up for safety, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah,
<>< Katie

Crash Boom Bash

"I'll give you a ride back to your apartment," Jessica offered as we walked out of practice tonight. Then she added only half-jokingly, "If you don't mind riding with me."

I could have walked back to my apartment, in fact I seriously considered it. However, the dangers of riding with Jess seemed less than the dangers of walking across campus alone in the dark.

As I got in her new car, I thought back to that warm October day. I remember getting in her car that morning and thinking, If we crash, these color guard flags are going to cause some serious internal damage. We did and they didn't.

This past October, Jessica and I were headed to an academic event when we blew a tire by running off the road to avoid getting hit head-on by a line of Dodge Rams. God sent us some of our classmates to change the tire. We were going to get to our destination and get a new tire since we were in the middle of nowhere and were headed towards a bigger city.

In this brouhaha our GPS got messed up. It was telling us to get on the freeway, get off at the next exit, get back on the freeway going the other direction, get off at the next exit and on and on and on. Since we were driving on a spare tire, we didn't think it was wise to be on the freeway at all but neither of us knew an alternative route. Well, it wasn't long before we needed more than just a new tire.

We pulled over in a vacant parking lot to adjust the GPS. Destination reset, directions make sense, knew where we're going, put the GPS down, and continued our journey. Not a mile later we t-boned a Dodge Ram.

Afterwards I didn't talk about the accident much because, well, there's no nice way to say, "Jess and I totaled her car yesterday." Besides, the conversation was always more or less the same.

"Oh my gosh, are you ok?"

I'm fine. Yes, I'm a bit sore, we totaled a car for heaven sake, but I've been more sore from tennis practice. No ambulance ride. No ER. No nothing. No, that answer isn't going to change if you call back in two hours.

"Were you scared?"

First off, what kind of question is that? Who crashes a car and isn't scared? Me apparently. I watched the truck stop at the stop sign, cross oncoming traffic, cross the left lane, appear directly in front of our car. The only few seconds I cannot physically see were us making contact, the airbag deploying, and the trunk spinning. It would have been logical for me to close my eyes, after all there was an airbag colliding with my face (not to mention the truck colliding with our car). Even though I can't see those few seconds, I can hear the crunching of mental. With confidence I could tell EMS that my head was not responsible for the cracked windshield on the passenger side.

"Does the other driver have insurance?"

Can you drive a car without insurance? He admitted it was his fault and apologized. He said he never saw us but did stop at the stop sign. I know this to be true. I watched him do it.

Although it's not something I'm happy we experienced, we've both learned a lot from this day.

First off, we are thankful for flat tires. Since we were driving with the spare tire, we were driving slowly, ten to fifteen miles under the speed limit. It's not hard to notice that if we had been driving the speed limit, the hood of our car could have easily gotten stuck under the truck. That's would have made for an entirely different outcome.

Secondly, it is a miracle that we had no injuries. The car took the brunt of the impact. Besides the dashboard, the only thing inside that was broken was Jess's GPS. (Which was already not in proper working order). Both of us were offered medical care. Jess opted for on-site evaluation, and I turned it down. For days I wondered if this was something I was going to regret, but I don't because I was not injured. In all honesty, I'm kind of disappointed we totaled a car and the only bruise on my body was from where I'd gotten body-slammed into the counter the week before. We are incredibly thankful for God's arms of protection surrounding us.

God provided us with compassionate people all the way through the day. From the other students who helped us change the tire to the woman who stopped to make sure we had a phone to call 911 to the bikers who waited with us until emergency personnel arrived to the emergency personnel themselves. Even the other driver was nice. There's no way I can ever thank everyone that helped us. I thought to thank some on the scene but some I didn't and that is one thing I regret from that day.

The other thing I regret is not being more of a backseat driver. I had been watching the truck the whole time. Jessica said she'd never heard me, "Jess, are you watching that truck? He doesn't see us. Jess! Truck!" I'd already been a backseat driver that day (as always), so I was trying not to be obnoxious. I was not screaming. Except for the millisecond as we were about to make contact when I doubted myself, I knew the whole time that he was not going to make it across the road before we both tried to be in the same place at the same time. I've resolved myself to forever be a backseat driver because I'd rather be annoying than be in a crushed car.

There are a zillion reasons why this accident didn't make sense:

- Periodically throughout our journey, Jess had been texting or talking on her cell phone. Texting/talking and driving has always bothered me. The irony is that she was not messing with her phone when we crashed.

- We should have never been on that road at all in our journey. If the GPS hadn't been messed up we would not have gotten off the freeway. If we would not have done the safe thing and pulled over in the parking lot, we would not have had to travel back down the road to get back to the freeway.

- If those first trucks and their ATVs had not made Jessica so nervous, we would not have swerved so far off the road that we hit the curb and popped her tire, so we could have been to our destination on time.

- If...

If, ands, and buts aside, we had an accident. That's exactly what this is: an accident. Except not to God. God doesn't have accidents; He may be the only one to know why it happened. But it did happen, and God is good. All the time.

Just because God is good doesn't mean our day was good. I mean, we got up on a Saturday to leave campus at 8am on what should have been a 55 minute drive only to return to campus at noon (the time I normally wake up on Saturdays) having never made it to our destination.

No, we did not get credit for the academic event we tried to attend. When I told the professor we tried to go and got into a car accident she looked me in the eye and essentially said, "Bummer." That irked me. If someone tells you they totaled a car trying to go to your event: do NOT under any circumstances say, "Bummer!" Even an, "I'm sorry" would have been nice... and necessary.

I've really struggled with this blog. Writing about the accident isn't hard; telling people about it is. However, I've really felt God's give me a story to tell, and I've been disobedient by keeping it to myself. I wrote this post a week ago and have revised/ rewritten it several times since then. Except I haven't posted it. I put it in my "next time I don't have something to say" collection of blogs. Face it, I always have something to say. I couldn't figure out why I was being so selfish and keeping this story silent.

Last night, I figured it out. Worshipping three rows in front of me was Jessica, my driver. Whether we like it or not, she and I will always have a bond because we crashed a car together.

Sitting in front of her was a different girl, also named Jessica. This other Jessica was in a car accident when she was in high school. A horrific accident where people died. She almost did, too. I'd known this for years but never really knew her story. Seeing her today helped me realize why I was being shy about sharing my story. The night before we crashed, Jessica told me about her car accident. She should not have lived! We talked about how God has healed her, physically and emotionally.

It clicked tonight seeing her for the first time in months. She was in a car accident and almost died, and God has used her story. I was in a car accident and walked away without a scratch; God can and will use my story, too.

I will not be silent any more!

<><>

PS. If you read this all the way through you deserve a hug because it's the Microsoft Word equivalent of three pages (without the photo). I'm sorry. Honestly, I tried to keep the details minimal. If I included everything I wanted to this post could have easily been fifteen pages. Ask me if you want more information because I'll freely give it. :-) Thanks for reading!