Wednesday, November 30, 2005

And the mask comes off

Friends I need prayer.

Funny how hard it was for me to write that sentence, well not really funny, more sad. Sad that I hesitate to ask people for prayer.

Without goining into great depth, I will be making some transitions in my life come summer-time both in career and in location. I would appreciate prayer as God has not revealed in any way what His plans are for me, I just know that "change, it is a comin." So I ask you, blog-world, friends, for prayers of faith, hope, trust, contentment with His silence, and that I will be obedient when He calls me to whatever He has for me.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Dude I was cute

I was ghetto before ghetto was cool. Look at my posse and her sweet ride.

I mean the fashion sense is amazing.

Check out the one-piece velvet pant suit. I was SOOOO COOOOOOL.

Seriously, the white nightgown, the bed-head hair, I know you're all thinking ANGEL.

Obviously I was preparing my finale for the Olympic gymnastic all around competition. Too bad I couldn't land a round-off to save my life, but I looked good in the final pose.

Proof that the mouth-wide-open pose has been my trademark since childhood.

Oh we look sweet but looks are often deceiving . . . .

Ok, it's scanned from a polaroid but you get the gist of what is going on. MUDD people, MUDD.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Is this professional?

Over the Thanksgiving break my school had the floor waxed. As I walked in the building this morning and beheld the glorious sheen of the sparkling buffed floors it took every ounce of self control not to kick off my heels and run and slide down the long hallway in my hose.

Seriously, a lot of self control, that and the knowledge that it would be my luck that I would slip, fall, break my hip and be the youngest person to have to cry, "I've fallen and I can't get up".

Thursday, November 24, 2005

And the tradition continues

Can you have deja vu a full year later? Well I can.

Yep, 365 days ago I embarked on a quest to win at Texas Hold Em and while I did not win I held my own with a group of guys and did pretty well for myself.

If you want to read that story click HERE.

Some famlies have Thanksgiving day traditions: pulling the wishbone, going around the table telling each other what we're thankful for, getting out the Christmas decorations. My family plays poker, Texas Hold 'Em to be exact. And we play for moo-la.

The cards came out, the money was forked up (I had to borrow cash from my mom, how sad is that? it seems noone in my family has a check card machine), the chips were stacked and the trash talking began. Two games later my mom had whooped up on my sisters and me (thankfully my mom is a softie and she cancelled our debts - seems the first two games were for warm-up).

Then her best friend and her daughter showed up and the real game started. Many hands later and it's me and my mom in a heads up showdown. My mom is a sneaky player and has logged many hours on internet poker. She called me on some money pots and I had her beat with some amazing hands. I play a tight game of poker people. I am not afraid to fold if I'm not feeling it and I will put my money where my mouth is when I'm sure I've got the table beat. A few good blufs, a few great hands and I prevailed and I walked away from the table with my winnings. (Ok I did a little celebration dance and gloated a bit - but only a bit).

So next year if you want to come to my house for Thanksgiving, bring your money and your poker face because I'm feeling lucky. Any takers?

P.S. Hope you all had a great thanksgiving.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005


I always thank my God as I remember you in my prayers, because I hear about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints. I pray that you may be active in sharing your faith, so that you will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ. Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints.

Philemon 1:4

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

Phillipians 1: 3-6

Happy thanksgiving to all my friends. I pray for sweet times with your famlies and friends and that God will bless you during this holiday.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005


Do you ever feel like you can’t approach God? The invitation is given but something is holding you back. Anger, fear, guilt, there are so many things that keep us from approaching God.

And maybe you’re there, you’re in His presence but there is something that keeps you from fully being free. Something is weighing you down, something is pulling you back, something has you bound.

I love that God knows this. I love that He knows exactly what will get in our way of coming to Him and finding rest in Him.

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."
Matthew 11:28-30

A simple calling: Come to Me

A simple qualification: all who are weary and heavy-laden

A simple promise: I will give you rest

But really, we take the simplicity out of it. I make it so hard for God to give me rest. So often I carry so much around with me, be it current burdens and responsibilities, guilt from things in my past, worries, fear, all these things add up and I buckle under the load. And I know that God will take them, in fact I know that He already has, but part of me wants to hold onto these things, to carry my burden myself. Call it pride, call it selfishness, call it guilt, but I refuse to let them go. And on the rare occasion that I do give them to Him, I often snatch them back. I pick back up the load I have already lain down.

But Christ offers us a trade, a very unequal one at that. He says, “I’ll take your load and you take mine.” And many of us react to Him in guilt. We have made these burdens, we should have to carry them. And there is comfort in some burdens, a feeling of purpose, control, responsibility. But these feelings only ensnare us and weigh us down more. Christ has already taken this load, it is already His. We just take it back and carry it out of ignorance or unrest and that is the very thing Christ offers us with His yoke, rest. We must take it to be like Him. We must give Him our burdens and take His light load to know Him. We are called to be like Christ, to be like-minded, to live as He does. He lives with a light load, an easy yoke, a freedom from the burdens of this world. He does not carry heavy burdens and we shouldn’t either.

So come to Him, bring your burdens, bring your yoke, release that control, let go of the guilt, let Him take your yoke and take up His. Learn from Him, experience His freedom, His grace, the lightness of His Spirit and then you will find rest.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Monday and I have nothing to say . . .. . .

But there are quite a few friends of mine who do have something to say, so why don't you go check them out:

Steve - read his blog book and, well, just read it
Jes - my sweet friend is suffering from a lack of voice and if you know her you know this is monumental
Eddo - worth his weight in gold, he's such a good guy he has trouble saying no
Ben - chronicling his trip half-way around the world
JCol - photo queen - go read about her trip to NYC
Stephanie - learn a bit about this crazy gal

And there are so many others, but for now you can read these instead of me.

Friday, November 18, 2005


I feel like I need to preface this post with a statement: The following words, sentences, and paragraphs, are the somewhat consolidated thoughts of my heart. They may not always make sense, and my lack of great proofreading may cause you to misunderstand some of what I say. Please know that this is my heart, and this is how my mind thinks through things like this. If something is confusing please ask me questions and I will do my best to clarify my thoughts.

My sweet friend Aimee, who so kindly supplies me with the question of the week, sent me this email the other day:

“Hey... I was on the web... found this question and thought of you... it sounded like something you might blog about.

If I was able to unconditionally love as God does, how would I think, feel and act, and how different would my life be? How would other people respond to me?”

First, I love that I have non-blogging friends who send me stuff to blog about. I aim to please, and well Aimee brings up a great question that falls right in line with some things that have been floating around in my head lately. So I took her question and I added another dimension:

If I was able to unconditionally love as God does, would I?

I remember either hearing or saying this statement:

“But for Christ, the prostitute and the pastor are the same in the eyes of God.”

I now realize the error in that statement, it makes a horrible assumption, specifically that the pastor doesn’t know Christ. Ok, so that was supposed to be humorous but I can feel that none of you are laughing. But my point is valid.

Instead of my first statement I should say:

“With Christ, the prostitute and the pastor are the same in the eyes of God.”

Now I know some of you may argue that I’m making the same point with both statements, I’m just changing up the semantics, but I disagree. See the first one implies that these two people are different but become the same without Christ. Now this statement might be true some of the time but not all of the time, because the two people might not be different to begin with. The second statement is true all of the time. And that is important to note.

Why am I talking about this you ask? Well, because I’m convicted of how arrogant and unloving my heart can be and God is showing me in His tender grace what unconditional love really looks like.

Look back at Aimee’s questions for a minute. Ponder them.

If I was able to unconditionally love as God does, how would I think, feel and act, and how different would my life be? How would other people respond to me? If I was able to unconditionally love as God does, would I?

Now let’s look at the pastor and the prostitute. How do I love each of these, or better do I love each of these? If I do, is my love based on something?

I do love the pastor. He is a great man and has been a wonder spiritual leader to me as a teacher of the scriptures. He is a good man who is a loving husband, father, and grandfather. He is funny and silly and makes me laugh. He is tender hearted when it comes to the grace of God. He speaks with honor and respect for those in authority over him and for those who came before him leading the way. He is a good man.

Now about the prostitute, or feel free to substitute in any person, let’s take a drug addict for instance. Now I don’t get all warm and fuzzy inside about loving a drug addict. I can begin to make assumptions about them because of what I see in their lives. Or better yet, I don’t even need to see anything in their life and I can make assumptions. Addicts are screwing up their lives, they are hurting those around them, they are killing themselves, and they are wasting away. They probably don’t even know who God is. They probably aren’t good husbands or wives or parents. They sure don’t respect authority because they are participating in something that is illegal. They aren’t good.

So from the above it is obvious my love is conditional. But, you say, the pastor deserves your love, he is good, the addict doesn’t because he isn’t good. And I respond, when did being good become a determining factor for loving another? And then who decides what is good? You? Me?

And the greater question is who is to know the heart of the pastor and the heart of the addict? Maybe the pastor is just fooling everyone; maybe he is a wicked man living a lie of faith. Maybe the addict is lost, so far from God, but there is faith deep in his heart and God is working to grow that faith and to change this man from within.

So who do I choose to love now? Do I choose to love the addict and not love the pastor?

Why do I have to choose? Who says I have the right to choose?

And I know some of you are thinking, but Katie this is old school stuff. I know all this. I realize that we are to love each other and yada yada yada. Great you know this. Guess what I know it too, because I wrote it. But do you do it? Do you love?

And let’s make it even simpler, let’s take people you already know, people who you care about. Do you love them unconditionally? Or do you love them when they love you? Do you love them when they are nice to you and show that they care about you? Or do you choose not to love them when they hurt your feelings, when they forget about you, when they do something that you don’t approve of? Conditional love is never on a grand scale, it is measured by centimeters and moments. We choose to love, how to love, when to love, and how much to love by how we feel we are loved. It is a numbers game where everyone comes out the loser.

But we have the greatest example of love. We have the one who loves unconditionally, who loves us unconditionally. So if we are loved unconditionally by the one who is love then why are we conditional with our love?

If it is true that God loves unconditionally, then Christ and the Holy Spirit would both love unconditionally. This is proven by Christ’s actions to those around Him, which we see throughout Scripture. Now if the fruit of the Holy Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self control, then the same kind of love that Christ possesses we would possess by the Spirit.

What I’m trying to say is that I can love unconditionally if I love by the Spirit. If I allow God to love through me, then yes, I can love those around me unconditionally. But as in all things, “I” get in the way. I choose to allow conditions and expectations to cloud God’s love of others through me. I choose to limit and censor God’s love for those around me. So I have the opportunity, I have the ability to love unconditionally but I don’t, and that is a horrible realization.

Now what happens when the drug addict becomes a pastor? Does my love for them now change? And if it does, why? Has this person changed or have their circumstances changed? Have they become more worthy of my love? Or have I just determined that I am now willing to give them my love because I am now accepting of who they are? Conditions, conditions, conditions.

Yes, we are new creations in Christ, yes the new has come and the old is gone. But Christ didn’t die for the pastor instead of the addict. He didn’t die for the saved. Christ didn’t come to earth, take on the form or man, and spend three years in ministry going to the poor, the broken, the beaten down, the ugly, the unwanted to save the pretty, the good, and the worthy. Christ came to earth to change the ugly to beautiful, to heal the broken, to quench the hunger and yearning of the addict, to love the prostitute, the give worth and value to the poor, to give life to the leper. Christ came for the ugly, the nasty, the worst of the worst, which is me, which is you, which is all of us.

Who you were means nothing to Christ. Do you really think that He can look at a man or a woman and say “you have wandered too far for me to save you” or “you are just not worth my time, my life”? No Christ came to those who needed Him, to those who were lost without Him; He came for the pastor and for the prostitute. Both need His forgiveness, both need His grace, both need His unconditional love.

And if Christ commands us to love our God and to love our neighbor, who are we to set up conditions for who is worthy of His love and therefore our love? Who are we to withhold that which was so gracefully bestowed upon us by the Lord? We are the ugly (clothed in sin), we are the broken (weak, unable to stand, hurting), we are the addicts (it may not be drugs or alcohol but we were all once addicted to the sin of this world), we are the prostitutes (giving ourselves out to this world, offering our bodies up to sin in all forms), we are those who He came to love, unconditionally.

Some of you may know Steve; some of you may read his blog Following God’s Will, and I'm going to use him as an example because I want to put a human face on this point. From his writings, it is evident that Steve is a man who has died to himself so that he may live in Christ. If you only scratch the surface of this man you will see a worship leader, evangelist, friend, son, brother, uncle, counselor, and a heart of deep and abiding faith. What you may not realize at first glance, is that Steve is a former drug addict, a recovering alcoholic, and a man who was ugly, broken, beaten down, and in need.

I hate to say this, and I am ashamed to say this, but four years ago I would not have been friends with Steve. I would have judged him and withheld any kind of grace and friendship because he was not what I would have considered worthy of love. That sounds so awful to hear myself say and my heart breaks that I could have felt that way, that I could have judged another person with so much arrogance. I am sickened by this realization and I am humbled by God's grace to change this in me.

The thing is that it shouldn't matter that Steve is a different person than he was four years ago. Don’t get me wrong, I praise God that He pulled Steve out of that pit and He calls him a son, a fellow heir with Christ. What matters is that through God, I can show love to the Steve of today and to the Steve of four years ago, and to the countless other people who I withold love from because of the conditions I place on them.

God in all His wisdom has opened my eyes a bit and showed me that all are loved by Him. I can’t understand it and I probably never will. How God can love the unlovable, how He can love those who hate Him, and rebel against all that He is. But God does love and he gives me the ability to love in the same way, in fact He calls me to love in the same way, because it was I, who was ugly and broken and nasty, who He first loved.

I want to move us past the “if . . . then . . .” statement for a moment. “If” gives you the opportunity to answer with what you “would” do not what you “do” do. “If” allows you to give the best answer, the “right” answer, not the real answer, and well people we need real answers in this world, not “right” answers, not “good” answers, not “if . . . .then . . . “ answers.

So back to Aimee’s questions, with a few changes:

Since I am able to unconditionally love as God does, how do I think, feel and act, and how different is my life? How do other people respond to me? Since I am able to unconditionally love as God does, do I?

These are the questions I ask of me today. This is the point I feel God is trying to make to my heart. Since I am loved by Him, since He is in my heart through the Holy Spirit, since I am called to love my neighbor as myself, what the heck am I doing?

We’re on the cusp of the holiday season. And while the Christian life should be lived everyday, no matter the holiday; this season, the days leading up to the celebration of Christ’s birth, the remembrance of: his act of submission to the Father’s love for us, the laying down of His spiritual garments and becoming clothed in flesh, His love for us that He would come to us as we are, that He would come to love us in flesh and in body, the love that surrounds that one miraculous moment of birth, of new life. This is when I ask myself, who I love and how I love them.

I wrote about miracles the other day and it is breathtaking to see the result of a miracle, to see the healing, the restoration, and the inexplicable event that changes a life forever. The thing we forget is that there was a “before” the miracle. There was something that needed that miracle, something that preceded it and that something was probably not pretty and easy and good.

Again I am drawn to the song Amazing Grace; before I could see I was blind, before I was found I was lost. The amazing thing is that I was loved no less or no greater at either moment. God’s grace means that His love is the same before and after the miracle. He loved me when I was blind, He loved me when I was lost, He loved me unconditionally so that I might see, that I might be found, that I might believe.

He loves the pastor and the prostitute equally.
Christ came for each, for both.
We are called to love each the same, to love each without conditions.
To love.

I’ve mentioned Steve, and I want to plead with all of my readers (even those of you who are silent) to go to his new site, Into the Mirror. He is telling, though his own eyes, the story of a miracle. I will not lie to you, it is hard to read, it is in no way sugar-coated, or censored, or anything other than truth. It is his story, the days filled with darkness, the path through the pain, but it is a story that we know the ending to. It is a story of redemption. It is the story of a miracle. It is a story of love; beautiful, wonderful, unconditional love of the Father for His child, for His lost son who He gave His one true Son upon the cross for. Read the chapters, listen to the pain, and see the unconditional love that leaves its fingerprints all over his story.

Miracles and love.

Why it pays to work at a private school

Ok so it really doesn't pay, but if I was in it for the money this would not be the job for me.

What is nice though, is that after today I will not be required to step foot in the school building until November 28th. Yes people I get ALL next week off, ALL OF IT.

Now the question arises, what will I do with myself?

Goodness I have no idea.

Anybody have any ideas?

P.S. I hope to have another post up later today, so once again I am making a self-serving request for you to check my blog over and over throughout the day :)

Thursday, November 17, 2005

When did this happen?

I remember as a child thinking my parents were nuts for the amount of coffee they drank in any given day. My mother can throw back a cup or two right before bed and it not affect her at all. I vowed that I would never be that person.

Katie this is kettle calling and you are black sister.

Yep, I am now an official coffee drinker.

It happened slowly, over time. First, there were the few cups when I was freezing, because, well, coffee is hot and when you are cold you want something hot (guess I should have tried the hot dr pepper with lemon instead). And then I was sucked into the whole commercialism of Starbucks and had to try their fancy smancy drinks that you have to learn the secret code words to order. So it was only a “cold weather” event and then somehow it became an "all weather" event. Then the green circle with the weird Starbucks girl began to draw me in (much like the Target target does) and I could speak the secret code and I was selling my plasma to keep up the fancy coffee fix. And now I rush in every day to work and make the coffee waiting expectantly for the first cup – because the first cup is always the best.

When did this happen?

At least I can rest in the knowledge that I have NEVER drank?, drunk?, ok well consumed TWENTY cups of coffee in one singular day.

Nope, I’m not that gone.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005


The tomb is there, the man wrapped in burial dressing is standing in front of the gaping black hole where the stone has been rolled away. An outstretched arm is visible in the foreground, but it is the shadow against the tomb that draws my eye. The body seems huge, the arms spread wide, and there is power in the shadow, life giving power.

A friend found it at a discount book store, a treasure hidden in the stacks, a book with pictures from the movie, Jesus of Nazareth. In it is this picture of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. I’ve searched for this book, for this picture, because it is in this one image that I see the greatest miracle in my life.


Miracle: An event that appears inexplicable by the laws of nature and so is held to be supernatural in origin or an act of God.

To me the word miracle seems foreign, it seems empty and yet full at the same time. Have I ever seen a miracle? Have I seen something that is so awesome, so inexplicable, that I can only attribute it to the hand of God? My first answer would be no, but then I feel convicted because I am missing the greatest miracle in my own life. An act that goes against everything that the laws of nature hold to, that is supernatural in its origin and that is only accomplished by an act of God.

I died.

And now I live.

Did you catch that? There is only one explanation for that: miracle.

There is no way to explain that I, Katie, died, my life ended, and yet I live again. There is only one explanation for this: miracle.

An event that is inexplicable by the laws of nature.

I died and now I live.


I know that I’m hitting this point over and over, but repetition makes a point. This was a miracle. It wasn’t a normal event; there was nothing about it that is explainable by the laws of nature, by the laws of man, by reason.


And I have a story of this miracle. A story of the moment I died and the moment I lived. It is mine and mine alone. No one else has my story, no one else has my personal miracle.

But many of you have stories that have the same miraculous event. Many of you have died and many of you now live.



We all came by this miraculous event differently. Our paths vary as much as our personalities. Some of us have what we would call “easy” stories, death and life came quickly and with little pain. Others have “tough” stories, ones filled with pain and suffering and a journey that lasted a long time on a tough road.

But one thing unites us all; one thing brings all of our paths to the same glorious point in the road.

We all died.

And now we all live.


Each act is a miracle. Each story tells of the miracle of life coming from death.



There is no hierarchy for miracles. You can’t have one miracle be more miraculous than another. A miracle is just that, a miracle.

While our stories vary and our paths are singular to our lives, not one of us is any less of a miracle than the other.

We all died and we all now live.



I spent quite a few years in youth ministry and heard many students say that they had been a Christian their whole life. It wasn’t until the third or fourth time that I heard this statement that I realized how arrogant it was. And then I heard other students say how boring their testimony was. God really hadn’t had to save them from much. They weren’t saying it with words, but really they meant that God didn’t have to do too much to get them to eternal life. All they needed was a little nudge to get them to holiness. Arrogance.

Where are the miracles? They’re there. If you have eternal life, a miracle has occurred. But where is our acknowledgement of the miracle. When did we become so blind to the glorious fact that every act of salvation is a miracle?

We die and now we live.


Not one of us is saved from any less or any more than the person next to us. Each of us is under a penalty of death, each of us die and then each of us experience the miracle of life.

My salvation is the greatest miracle I will ever experience in my life. And I am so ashamed to admit I take it for granted daily. I forget the miracle of my life, the miracle of knowing Christ as my savior, the miracle of God loving me and giving His son for me, the miracle of the new life I live, the eternal life I can now claim.

I died and now I live.


And I mourn that I have let my mind and my heart think that my miracle was any less grand than another’s. The thought that my miracle is less might seem humble, but it is arrogance, it is spitting in the face of my Savior as He hangs on the cross. It is telling Him and the world that my salvation didn’t cost that much of His life, that I needed less blood from His broken body to cover my sins. When in fact I needed His entire life, I needed all of His blood, I needed the hours on the cross, the pain, the beatings, the laying down of His life. I needed the miracle that He died and then He lived.

I died and now I live.



I love the song Amazing Grace. I love the cry of the heart of a person who is faced with the wretchedness of their life and yet sees the miracle of salvation.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind, but now, I see.


T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved. How precious did that Grace appear the hour I first believed.


Through many dangers, toils and snares we have already come. T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far and Grace will lead us home.


When we've been here ten thousand years bright shining as the sun. We've no less days to sing God's praise then when we've first begun.


I died and now I live.


It's coming . . . . .

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Shane Barnard

Just trying to figure out if Shane really does google his name (check out Stephanie's comment on my last post). Because if he did, then I figured having his name as a title would move me higher up in the list of google responses. And then he would read my site, and then he would probably think I was a stalker and I would be banned from all future concerts, but maybe he would see that I am a NIFTY girl (yep, that seems to be what I am, Nifty, just so darn nifty, oh katie, yep she is the nifty one, NIFTY).

So this is my little experiment. Stay tuned for keyword search engine results.

If you are lost by this post, may I direct you to my previous post.

Oh and thanks everyone for saying such nice things about me, I guess I must be some kind of catch (at least all the girls think so, but then again girls are really encouraging so I could be an ugly toad of a gal and my chicas would have my back with the "you are such a good catch" comment). Ok, have you ever noticed that girls are so much better at encouraging each other than boys are? Not sure if it means that girls are natural encouragers or if we realize how important encouragment is so we give it more freely because we know the value of it. Hmmmm, just a thought.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Oh my word, girls are funny

I would like to give a shout out to my “Change Me” girls. They are a group of AMAZING ladies who I had the honor of being in a BSF group with last year and doing a Bible study with over the summer (hence the name Change Me girls – our book was called "Lord, only you can change me" (an amazing study I must say, because anything from Kay Arthur will kick your butt)). But back to the girls. They are such a blessing to my heart and we have stuck together after last year and this summer and have dinner every month or so and just laugh and cry and love on each other. Really, what is better than that?

So today I was emailing my friend Margaret and somehow we got to talking about Shane Barnard. And she made this comment:

“How cool is Shane Barnard? Love his heart. I know God has the most AMAZING lady waiting for him somewhere.”

And I answered:

“Oh but Margaret what Shane doesn't know it that I'M THAT WOMAN. Hee Hee.”

And she replied:

“If you are that woman he would be very lucky....AND, AND... he could still stay in the same area of the country. That is totally going to pan out. Maybe you can blog about it and then get him your site address.”

So I find this funny on so many levels –
1. That we were actually having a pretty heartfelt email conversation (I love you Margaret) and somehow this ends up in the mix.
2. That I would actually reply to her initial statement with something so bold.
3. And then the last line just made me burst out laughing and made my day: “Maybe you can blog about it and then get him your site address.”

So I’m thinking of how to slip Shane my blog address. I mean can I just go up to him at a concert and hand him a note, but then should it be folded in some really cool shape like a t-shirt (I think I can still do that), or should I make t-shirts and then give them away so that when he looks out at the audience all he’ll see is and the words READ ME. Wait, I’ve met Shane, we’re practically best friends, I mean we shared a philly cheesesteak, or actually he had his own and I had mine and there were about 10 other people in the room and we were sitting at opposite ends of the table (but it was a small table) and we talked, because he thought I was a lot younger than I actually was (but I get that all the time). And then we barn-swinged together, again separately but in the same time frame and at the same place. And then he remembered me at the next concert I went to. And I’m sure that someone told him about my great falling incident at that same concert, because really the whole stinking sanctuary saw it or heard about it because it was EPIC. So really, we’re old friends, so he may already read my blog. And if he does I guess I should say hi, because to not say hi would be rude.


Yep, so this is my Monday post. Hope you enjoyed it. Oh and Shane, if you are reading this, comment and let me know, cause really I’m not a stalker, but I have a great sense of humor (as you can tell from this post).


Isn't that what Charlie Brown says? Well I'm saying it too. Why you ask? Well I'm not going to tell you. Ok, well since you begged and pleaded I will tell you why I am saying BLECH.

COLD COFFEE - more lukewarm, gross, coffee because someone turned off the coffee pot while there was still half a carafe of coffee left and I just took a big gulp of nasty lukewarm, gross coffee.

If only to appease you . . . .

Random event for the day: Someone, actually two somebodies found my blog by searching for "exploding pumpkin video". So the question begs to be asked, Does this make me cool a pyro freak? And the next question is: Are people in Virginia and West Virginia pyro freaks as well?

And yes I will post something else today (at least that is the plan).

Friday, November 11, 2005

Bored you ask? Why yes, thank you.

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Thanks to Steve for getting me hooked on this.

Stupid Blogger

It ate my post. UGH.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

In the waiting room

How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
And my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
And my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me.

I love this Psalm. I love all the Psalms. They are like looking into the heart of the writer, looking into their thoughts, fears, cries, and yes their rejoicing.

I love David. I love his honesty, his openness before God. He was called a man after God's own heart. I think this meant more than just the idea that he would desire to serve God. He wanted God's heart; he wanted to know Him, to be known by Him. And to know God and to be known by Him means that you will struggle, you will battle, you will falter, and you trust Him to stay through all of it.

I love that David comes to God with questions. He asks Him exactly what is in his heart and he doesn’t hold back. How long? David was struggling and he cried out for answers. Will you forget me? Will you hide from me? David felt alone. Must I wrestle with my thoughts, have sorrow in my heart? David was hurting. Will my enemy triumph over me? David was scared.

And then he calls on God to respond. I love the intimacy of that. Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. David didn’t say, “ok God, get back to me on this stuff when you can”, no he calls on God to answer him, to answer him right in that moment. And the great thing is that I think David really did expect Him to answer, to respond to his cries. He knew that God heard him and he wanted answers right then.

Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death, and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” And my foes will rejoice when I fall. I love that David is dramatic here, he is responding in a very human way, in his own mortality. God if you don’t show me that you are here and working then I’m just going to be killed by these people and then they’re going to do a happy dance on my body and well what do you think about that? That is what I hear David saying in my head.

But . . . . One of the greatest words in the entire world. I love that those three little letters can completely change the direction you are going. I have trusted in Your lovingkindness; David begins to remember. It might not be his current state of thought, oh no, he’s in pain and crying out. But he remembers a time when he trusted, when things were a bit clearer and He knew something about His Lord. Lovingkindness. I absolutely adore this word, I love that it is the Old Testament equivalent to God’s grace. David begins to remember God’s grace, His actions in the past, the times He has come to his rescue.

My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me. When I read this I see David making a conscious decision to do something. To decide to act out of faith not out of his current feelings. He says he shall, he will, not he is or he does, but an action in the future, an action that he will make himself do. And he shall rejoice, he will sing. In what? In God’s salvation on account of His lovingkindess. Why? Because David remembers that God has been good to him, he remembers the past, he looks outside of this one situation, outside of this dark moment and he remembers the work of the Lord to get him to this point.

I really do love this Psalm. I think I’ve prayed it to God so many times and it is so easy to get through the first few verses, to cry out to Him, to call on Him, to demand He answer. But I always choke up at the end. I always falter when I have to say that I will act out of faith. It is so hard to say that I will wait on God, that I will trust Him to show up once again. It is so hard to look beyond the darkness, to see past the rain, and to trust that sunlight is out there and that God is true to who He says He is, that He will continually show His character, that He won’t change, that His lovingkindess, his grace, is true and a promise that will be kept. But that is faith. That is what wanting God’s heart is.

And yes you are getting song lyrics again. These come from Shane and Shane (my all time most favorite group). The song is called Waiting Room and that is exactly where I picture David in this Psalm, sitting in the waiting room of life. And that is where I find myself today, waiting.

i will run when i cannot walk
i will sing when there is no song
i will pray when there is no prayer
i will listen when i cannot hear

sitting in the waiting room of silence
waiting for that still soft voice i know
offering my words up to the rooftop to Your heart
trusting that this closet's where You are

Lord i know if i change my mind
You will change my heart in time
Sovereign Lord this time's from You
so i sit in the waiting room of silence
cause it's all about You

i will fight when i cannot feel
i will trust when You don't seem real
i will tell when i cannot speak
i will step when i cannot see

sitting in the waiting room of silence
waiting for that still soft voice i know
offering my words up to the rooftop to Your heart
trusting that this closet's where You are

Lord i know if i change my mind
You will change my heart in time
Sovereign Lord this time's from You
so i sit in the waiting room of silence
cause it's all about You

Wednesday, November 09, 2005


I realize that many of you may think I am a bit off at times. Manic might be the best way to describe my writing style.

Today I tackle the mundane, or better the insane, because that is what I feel like. Are those the footsteps of the men with the straight jacket I hear?

Really I think I have lost my mind today (ok well I’m pretty sure I lost it a while back but every so often the emptiness between my ears becomes more noticeable).

Case in point:

I was in a fender bender yesterday. Well actually my fender wasn’t bent at all, it was my bumper. So I guess I was in a bumper thumper (oh you know that made you smile). Well this was my first incident of being the victim in a car accident (unless you count the time I was hurled against the roof of a school bus – but that is a different story all together).

So there I was minding my own business, puttering along in stop and go traffic. This is a good place to inform you, my dear audience, that I DO NOT LIKE TRAFFIC. In fact I have often stated that the worst type of torture for me would be to lock me in a car, give me a deadline to be somewhere, and then stick me in traffic where we don’t move at all. I have often pondered the possibility of abandoning my car and walking – that is how much I dislike being stuck without movement. God in his infinite wonder and irony has worked on this with me and placed me in many a traffic jam to teach me about patience – I’m learning the lesson slowly shall we say.

Ok back to my bumper thumper (yep I used it again). There I was stopped with the proper safe distance between myself and the car in front of me (my dad would be so proud) and I was jamming to some good tunes (I may have, in fact, been car dancing – yes if you see a blonde girl in a white Corolla bouncing around it may be me and my killer car seat dance skillz). All of a sudden my body was hurled toward my steering wheel in a very uncomfortable way and I heard what can only be called a “crash”. Now I will admit it took me a moment to realize that I was the one hit (are you getting the insanity idea now). So I look in my rear view window to see a young college girl sitting calmly in her car. So, again, I began to wonder if maybe I was not the one hit and I had somehow had a “sympathy reaction” and decided to throw my own body forward upon hearing someone else crash. Alas, this was just a fleeting moment of insanity, I had been hit.

So we pulled over to the side and did all the official information exchange. I was calm and not really angry and the poor girl commented on how kind I was being. Well I was kind on the outside but I was a bit perturbed when she told me that this was the THIRD rear ending she had been involved in (caused actually). But she was sweet so we did our thing and then went on with our evenings.

So now that I’ve called all the insurance companies and answered all their questions and I get to live with a rental car for a few days, I ponder the emotional and mental toll this has taken on me. And I’m wondering if you can claim temporary insanity or accident induced mental deficiency on a car accident claim.

The reason for this claim? I cannot for the life of me remember my work phone number today. I actually had to put someone on hold so that I could look it up. Now I have it posted on a sticky note on my computer.

Yep, accident induced mental deficiency. I think I have a pretty solid case.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005


Ahem . . . . Ahem . . . . is this thing on? Uh, yeah, hi, I mean, my name is Katie and uh . . . . . . .
ok this is hard for me to say but I’m just gonna say it . . . . . . . .

Yep . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I’m gonna say it . . . . . . . . .

I'm not who I pretend to be

What? You didn’t hear me? Ok . . . . . .

I'm not who I pretend to be

You still can’t hear me? Fine . . . . .


I’m weak; I’m broken; I don’t have it all under control; I’m scared; I doubt; I falter again and again; I’m not perfect; I’m not even close; I struggle; I stumble; and yes I fall.

My name is Katie and I play a good part and I wear lots of masks but when you strip them all away what you find is me; just broken down, beaten up me.

And yes it is so easy to say, “I don’t have it all together” when we’re talking in theory. It is so easy to encourage others when they hint at this vulnerability, this honesty.

But will we say it ourselves? Will we admit it to the world? Can we stand up in front of everyone we are trying so hard to impress and lay ourselves bare and say, “Hey, you, everyone, I don’t have it all figured out, I’m screwed up, REALLY SCREWED UP and it is a struggle every stinking day. It’s not just hard but it is some times so defeating that I’m not sure I can even make it. And I know that I look all shiny and good and in control but that is just an act I put on for you because I think you want to see it, that you need to see it or you will run far away from me, or you will judge me (or better yet I will judge myself) for not living up to this completely ridiculous standard of self-righteousness and self-sufficiency.”

I wrote this the other day out of frustration:

Appearance of strength, of togetherness, of contentment and yet it is all a mask, a vapor of something that isn’t true. Keeping up appearance is so tiring. To not be what you want to be, to not be what you know you should be, it is defeating. To admit that you are broken, that you are pained, that you are needy. Admitting your weakness, admitting your inadequacy, your utter failure at being that which everyone thinks you are.

Scared that they only like what they see, what is easy, what is not true. Can they handle the truth; are they willing to stay through the waves of the storm? The pressure to be what is easy to love, what is likeable, what is attractive. So scared that the realness of you will leave you left alone. So you wear the mask, you play the game, you hide behind the smiles, the laughter, the lie. Because the truth isn’t pretty, the truth isn’t easy. But the truth is real, it is what you go home with at night, it is who you are when you are stripped bare, it is you.

But I feel like I need to be all these things, to be “that” person that I don’t even know, “that” person that is so easy to love, so easy to be around. “That” person isn’t real though, she is a figment of my imagination, a creation of my expectations, the expectations I think others have for me. When did I stop being me and started being “she”? When did I start believing the lie that I wasn’t enough, that I wasn’t worth the time, the effort?

But wait, if I feel this way, if I’m struggling so much to play the part, to wear the mask, how many other people feel the same way? How many of my friends, of those that I say I love, have I driven to play a part, to be something they aren’t because they fear how I will see them?

Oh what have we done? What have I done? When did I start perpetuating the lie, encouraging it in others, silencing their cries, not letting them be who they are?

Are we all living lives of fear and performance? Are we all wearing masks and playing parts?

How did this happen?

Now I’m not saying that we all should walk around wallowing in a “woe is me” mentality. There is joy in life, there is laughter, there is victory, but there is also pain, and struggles, and tears. Life is made up of all of these things. It is a beautiful compilation of all that we are, both the good and the bad. It is real, it is honest, it is life.

The problem is that we’ve all bought into the lie that we’re supposed to be a certain way.
And the ironic thing is that I’m pretty sure we’re all just waiting for someone else to admit they are as lost and broken as we are. We’re frozen in fear that if everyone plays the game and everyone wears the mask then we have to also. It is a desperate cycle of trying so hard to be what everyone else wants when really it is only your perception of what they want.

A friend recently told me “you don’t have to be bullet proof”. Those were hard words to read because I want to be bullet proof, I desperately want to be immune from the reality of life, but I’m not, we’re not. And I’m realizing that every time I choose to put on that mask and I choose to play the part, I am lying, and worse I may be leading other people to take up their masks, to join in this pitiful performance, and that makes me hurt.

I head this song over the weekend and it fit perfectly with what I have been thinking.

Is there anyone that fails
Is there anyone that falls
Am I the only one in church today feelin’ so small

‘Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they’ll soon discover
That I don’t belong

So I tuck it all away, like everything’s okay
It I make them all believe it, maybe I’ll believe it too
So with a painted grin, I play the part again
So everyone will see me the way I see them

Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hid our pain
But if the invitation’s open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain on our stained glass masquerade

Is there anyone who’s been there
Are there any hands to raise
Am I the only one who’s traded
In the alter for a stage

The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart

But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be

Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay

Stained Glass Masquerade by Casting Crowns

So the microphone is open . . . . . . anybody want to say something?

Monday, November 07, 2005

I dare you not to laugh

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Friday, November 04, 2005

Hi Ben

In a vain attempt to say hello to my friend overseas I offer the following:


Miss you back here in the states. Have fun, be safe.

Everyone say hello to Ben.

26 years ago yesterday . . . . .

my life changed forever.

I was attacked, attacked I say, by two squirming freaks of nature. Yes people on that day my life was invaded by monozygotic munchkins. TWINS (identical no less).

So not only was my perfect life of pleasure and spoiledness interrupted by a younger sibling but in honor of all things that are ironic, I got TWO of them. TWO matching ankle biters to squirm in on my well laid plans of world domination.

Alas, I was stuck with them, and a stinking stuffed camel (my parents attempt to soften the blow that I was no longer the queen of our household - ok maybe I was still queen but now I had to share the throne with this matching set of cuteness - ugh).

One good thing about twins is that you now have a set of look-outs for your wild exploits into childhood. Instead of just leading one younger sibling astray with my plans for world domination (ok maybe just really my plans for ice skating in our kitchen and gorging myself on birthday cake) I now had two minions to follow my orders.

So . . . . . . .


(sorry it's a day late, I had important things to post yesterday - about peanuts characters and such)

KR and KE (yes my parents did name us all K names) read the blog so give them a birthday shout out people.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Just Because. . . . .

You are Marcie!

Which Peanuts Character are You?
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Wednesday, November 02, 2005

No title

Nothing distinct about her, nothing to give away the truth.

She sits surrounded by people and still feels alone. The emptiness of solitude is deafening to her ears even in the noisiness of a party. She wonders if all her friends really know her, if they see past this shell of a person to what makes up her heart, her spirit, her soul. She questions if friendship and love reach beyond what she can offer to those who promise their companionship. Are there conditions to the camaraderie, to the love? Must she always be “enough” for them for fear that she will lose them?

She’s felt the depth of loneliness overtake her heart so many times. She’s cried in the darkness because of the pain. She’s questioned so many times if she is even worthy of love, if she is worthy of anything. She’s longed for relief, for comfort, for tenderness. She’s begged, she’s pleaded and yet relief seems just out of her reach. The walls close in and she feels so alone.

She’s heard the words, “you’re pretty” but wonders if she will ever hear “you’re beautiful”. She wonders if love will ever find her. Will anyone ever love her with all that she is? Will she be found in pleasure? Will someone desire her heart? Is she destined to walk alone forever? Will loneliness always be a part of her life?

She knows she has to be the only one who feels this way.

She’s every girl you’ve ever known.

She may even be you.

She is certainly me.

Nothing distinct about him, nothing to give away the truth.

He is surrounded by many yet is still alone. Many think they know him, many think they see him, but do they see who he really is? Do they look past the outer shell and see the heart, the soul, the mission? Even his closest friends do not understand. It isn’t for trying, but they can’t seem to grasp who he is. Is he loved for only what he can do? Is he admired by the masses for his talents, for his work, but not for his heart?

He’s felt the loneliness overtake him. The depth and weight of the burden he carries. He’s sought counsel, sought comfort, but the path is laid before him and he must walk it alone. In moments meant for solitude, for renewal, he’s found only temptation and pain. He knows that those who say they love him will only fail him. That pain is distinct and leads to more loneliness. He cries for relief, for a way out, but none comes. This is why he is here.

Will she return his love? Can she see how much he cares? Does she hear his voice? Does she feel his tenderness, his heart, his desire to know her, to love her? Will she let him walk beside her? Will she reach out and take his hand? Will rejection be all that he knows?

He came to feel this way, he came to feel.

He’s not every guy you’ve ever known.

He’s only one man.

The only man who can know completely what she feels, the only one who can hear her heart, who has felt every emotion, every pain, who is all too knowledgeable about her fears and her hurting.

The only One who can be both man and God. The only one who can know the loneliness she experiences, who has struggled with the same feelings and thoughts. And yet the only one who can offer the cure for that loneliness, who can offer the unconditional love and relationship that will guarantee she is never truly alone.

She is every girl.
He is the One.

She searches for someone.
He waits for her.

And when she finds Him . . . . . . .

the loneliness fades away

she is known by the One

she is not alone

For we do not have a high priest (Christ) who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Hebrews 4: 15-16

Tuesday, November 01, 2005


The videos are up.

Patience my dear grasshopper, they may take a few moments to load.

Also pay no attention to the fact that I am gaytarted when it comes to using my camera and the videos are all sideways. Just turn your head 90 degrees and don't mention the fact that I have issues.


Initial Attempt

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