A Saved Catholic?

"I don't know if you can be Catholic and be saved... I'm still figuring that out," cried one of my Catholic friends during our team worship night in Nicaragua.

When she first made the statement, my defenses went up.  I'm not Catholic, but I have a lot of friends and family who are Catholics.  Of course you can be Catholic and be saved.

Throughout the rest of the week, God let me see the plight that literally brought her to tears before us in a moment of transparency.

We walked into Central American cathedrals and my heart broke due to the distorted Jesus so many people have been taught.

The man huddled in the corner fervently praying to the painting of a deceased bishop.

The woman filling the offering box with Cordobas as if she could buy forgiveness.

The crowds ritually progressing through the streets holding a crucifix high in the air.

Jesus still on the cross.

As we walked through those decorated cathedrals, I found myself praying for the lost within the sanctuary.  I wanted to stay and minister there rather than be a tourist.

It wasn't the label "Catholic" that bothered me. It was the un-biblically based Jesus.  The Jesus represented is not the Jesus I know.  That's what broke my heart.  The desire to earn forgiveness and eternal life doesn't take into account for grace and mercy.  The lack of understanding that Jesus is accessible to each and everyone of us, made me sad.

I'm not bashing Catholicism, I promise.  I'm bashing the missing of Jesus that we are all guilty of.  We get caught up in talking about homosexuality, abortion, and divorce rather than showing and teaching the love Jesus was adamant about.

We can call ourselves Christians and not know Christ.  Worship can be a weekly event we attend out of habit not a lifestyle we lead.

Yes, you can be Catholic and be saved.  But going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than going to the race track makes you a race car driver... going to a ballet makes you a ballerina...

The Christ I know is more than a character in a big book.  He's more than a man who did some really nice things.

He's God and man.  He lived by example, practiced what He preached, and gave the ultimate sacrifice.  And He calls us to do the same.

Do you agree? 

Then show it.  Not in my comments section but today on the road, in the classroom, in the cafeteria, and at the store.  Let's redefine Christianity.

It starts with me.

<>< Katie

Being Used

"I'm tired," I said, resting my head on Neal's shoulder.  It was lunchtime on our third day in Nicaragua and we'd already done three church services, visited three schools, and been performed for twice. 

He put his arm around me in a side hug.  There we stood in silence for a few minutes.  I never said this but I was more than tired; I was discouraged.

The previous night we had done a worship service at a youth-filled home church in the city.  It was in the upper room of this little house where our team of 26 took up most of the incredibly uncomfortable seats.  The youth from this church sat scattered among us, crouched on the floor in the back, or stood squished in the corner.

They started out the worship service with some songs, prayer, a dance, and a short message.  Then we did some of the same things: three songs, a skit (the only service we didn't do The Heart Skit), a prayer, a sign performance, a testimony, and a sermon.  By the end of the service, most of our team was in tears, in awe of how alive the Spirit of the Lord was in that church.

This is an excerpt from my journal that night:

God, I'm a little jealous that everyone else had such wonderful experiences tonight. I know You are alive and here in Nicaragua but I didn't feel it the way everyone else did. I know that You speak to everyone in different ways but it seemed like You spoke to everyone in the same way tonight... except me.

My eyes were dry.  I felt nothing.  I was annoyed with God for not allowing me to feel the same thing as everyone else.  I was jealous, and I hadn't told anyone but God.

My head still resting on his chest, Neal rubbed my arm with his hand.

"God's using you, you know," he said.

As silly as this sounds, I was surprised to hear that.  I knew that God would use me but I did not know He is using me.  Present tense.  Not some abstract future occurrence but right now.

Neal continued, "A lot of people said when you signed 'My Savior, My God' last night was when the Holy Spirit started to work on them."

What?

I had no idea.  I figured God had started speaking when they danced, when we sang in two languages, when the father and son did a duet, when we prayed... sometime long before I took the stage.

Apparently not.  The Holy Spirit used me and I had no idea.  While I still would have liked to enjoy the overwhelming experience like the rest of my teammates, I was stunned and amazed to learn that I had been used and I had no idea.

I think I thanked Neal for telling me exactly what I needed to hear.

The version of "My Savior, My God" I signed was written to be a trio.  I signed it by myself.  A Trio, a Holy Trio, perfromed it.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit uses you and you know it.  You feel it.  But sometimes the Holy Spirit uses you and you have no idea.  You don't feel it.

Are you ok with both?

I am.

<>< 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

He's nuts!

I can't claim this thought as my own. My sister came up with it, but I thought it was pretty good and felt the need to share. She was all embarrassed about it, but it's actually pretty accurate! (The more I think about it, this didn't seem like a new idea: so maybe it was mine, but I forgot about it... I don't know).

There's this one coach at school who is crazy! Absolutely crazy. He kind of came with the woodwork; he's one of those people that if you go to that school, you know him. He's been there forever. I was in the last grade to have him in the classroom, and I had him for two years. That means I've worked with him for EIGHT years. Two in the classroom and six (plus) on the court. That's enough to see any one's quirks, and this coach has more than anyone I can imagine! Everyone loves him, but no one understands him. He's got a very creative teaching style both on the court and off. Half the time his team has no idea what he's doing, but he knows. Half the time his team has no idea what he's talking about, but he knows. Even though the team doesn't see it, there's enough trust to believe there is a method to his madness.

Do you trust God enough to believe there is a method to his madness? Even though you don't know what He's doing, He knows. Even though you don't know what He's talking about, He knows. His plans are better than ours, even if they are a bit peculiar. Maybe it's not the way you would have gone about it, but He has much more experience, so let Him do what He wants.

<>< Katie

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." Proverbs 3:5