This is what occurs when I have conversations with Jes

The other day I was talking to Jes and she was sharing with me her love for Vietnamese food as well as Indian food. She then stated that if she could she would open her own restaurant and it would be called "A Multicultural Experience Everytime You Walk In The Door" or AMEEYWITD – if you can figure out how to pronounce it. And she would decorate the restaurant multiculturally beginning with a Kleenex box that had children of the world dressed in local garb.

As she shared this little nugget of Jessicaism with me I had many different thoughts run through my mind. I will share them with you now.

#1
This made me think of when I lived with Jes and made her traipse around to multiple fast food sites with me to make the perfect meal. Jes liked Taco Bueno (I think) Taco Bell and I liked New York Sub sandwiches (turkey, cheese, and mustard only please – yes I know I eat like a four year old and I am secure in that), French fries from McDonalds, and a drink from Sonic (Dr. Pepper with the crunchy ice, oh how I love the crunchy ice). So if we were on a dinner run we would make FOUR stops for us two girls, three of these stops being on my behalf. Jes recommended to me that I open my own fast food restaurant that served all the specific things that I like. I would call it, “Appeasing Jes who has is forced to turn a 15 minute food run into a 45 minute experience on my behalf” or AJWHTTA15MFRIA45ME.

#2
This also, for some reason, made me think of the time that I lived with Jes (the first time) and we had a rather large Valentine’s dinner party at our house. There were five of us living together in this great old historic house and we all worked with the youth group at our church. We planned and planned like perfect hostesses to have a fantastic dinner party and invite all or friends (I think we ended up with about 25 40 people(I was originally going to guess 50 people but I thought I might be exaggerating a bit, obviously I was wrong). In all our planning we forgot to get salt and pepper. Our idea was to be fancy and have little bowls of salt and pepper on each table. So it was up to Jes and her room-sharing roomie Taryn to go get some salt and pepper while the rest of us held down the fort of massive cooking. I remember distinctly noticing that Jes and Taryn had been gone for much longer than the 15 minutes it would take to drive the mile and a half to the store and then return. After a LONG time they finally returned and produced from their pockets handfuls and handfuls of little salt and pepper packets. The ever resourceful Jes and Taryn had decided to raid every fast food restaurant up and down the main road so that they wouldn’t have to buy salt and pepper. Thinking back, I would have paid money to watch them go into fast food joints walk up to the condiment counter and without drawing attention to themselves stuff their pockets with salt and pepper. Knowing Jes, this became a secret mission that she exacted with skill and cat-like reflexes. The best part was that even with Jes and Taryn’s thrifty thinking skills they had failed to realize that they would have to rip open every little packet to fill our large number of individual bowls. I will just say that I did have a tiny bit of joy watching them grouse as they quickly became frustrated by all the little packets.

#3
As Jes listed off her culinary interest in multicultural food I realized that I was only exposed to Vietnamese food by eating with Jes and will sometime in the future be exposed to Indian food again on the behalf of Jes. As I mentioned before my food tastes tend to stay in the four year old range. In fact as a kid I was a huge nightmare for my parents because I’m pretty sure I was the pickiest eater in the world. (Well that might be an exaggeration because one of my friend’s sons will only eat nachos and pizza – I wasn’t that bad). I just always had this issue with how food looks and smells. If it anyway appears a bit “weird” then I have already decided it must taste horrible. The ironic part of all of this is that I am Cajun and we eat weird food to begin with. I also grew up pretty much on the Gulf of Mexico coast and have eaten seafood since I was a little tike. If it comes from the ocean I will eat it. I will say that my food tastes have widened quite a bit since I’ve grown up and I’m pretty open to most things now (I still like my plain sandwiches and hamburgers though thank you very much). And I still love all the fun seafood and Cajun food that my family gets to eat on holidays and get-together. Although I could never get behind boudin (a rice and pork mix that looks like sausage or is deep fried in little balls). So I guess I still have some hang ups.

#4
And as Jes described her multicultural Kleenex box I was reminded of our second grade program as school. We did a production of Christmas around the world. The elementary school I went to for K, 1st, and 2nd grade was VERY multicultural. In fact I think I was the only pale skin blued eyed blonde girl in my class. This of course set me up perfectly to be the little Swedish girl. My grandmother sewed my costume and my mother did my makeup. I remember that I wore blue eye shadow and thought that I looked very grown up. Now I think I might have looked a bit like a Swedish hooker but that was the 80’s and lots of blue eye shadow was in.



This post was in honor of Jes, who has the ability to make me laugh at all times AND may be the bestest most randomest girl I’ve ever met.

Change

i come into this place
burning to receive Your peace
i come with my own chains
from wars i've fought for my own selfish gain
You're my God and my Father
i've accepted Your Son
but my soul feels so empty now
what have i become?

Lord, come with Your fire
burn my desires refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
please come and free me
refine me, refine me

my heart can't see
when i only look at me
my soul can't hear
when i only think of my own fears
they are gone in a moment
You're forever the same
why did i look away from You?
how can i speak Your name?

Lord, come with Your fire
burn my desires refine me
Lord, my will has deceived me
please come and free me
come rescue this child
for i long to be reconciled to You
refine me

all I can do
is lift my heart, my soul to You
and pray, and pray, oh i will pray

These lyrics are from the song "Refine Me" by Jennifer Knapp.

They struck me with their simplicity, their honesty, the whole idea. Somehow it seems to be a running theme of late. Refining. Wresting with God. Laying it all down. Being changed.

Because in the end that is really our only option. To stay as we are, chained to our own will or to come and let the chains fall off, to let go of our will and experience the freedom that comes with His.

To be refined, to be changed.

When in doubt . . . .

I was talking with a friend recently about how different my life would be without the Bible. Funny how much I take for granted a text that impacts my life daily. I can't think of any other group of words that has such a profound effect on who I am, what I do, and how I live.

It is a comfort to my soul, a sharp sting to my sin, a balm to my pain, a challenge to my mind, a peace in the midst of my turmoil, a chisel to my frame, a lamp to my feet, and a place of refuge and return when I have nowhere else to turn.

There is a lot going on right now, for me and for those I care about. So when I doubt, when I question, when I have nothing in myself, I turn to the thing I know to be secure, to be firm, to be true.

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary.
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40: 28-31

Crazy Day

Nuff said.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Do you remember those books? I read them voraciously as a kid (and as an added bonus I learned to use words like “voraciously” by reading a lot; my kids will read all the time just so they can understand the 25¢ words that I like to use). Something about determining the future of the characters appealed to me. I liked the choices, the decision making power, and let’s be honest, the fact that I could always change my mind and go back and re-create the story.

Ok, it’s confession time. I ALWAYS would read ahead on all the options to see what the consequences were for the choices I made. If I knew that by going left on the path I would come to a cliff and fall off and die, thus ending my adventure I would choose right, thinking that anything is better than dying by cliff jumping with no parachute. There were those times that both choices ended with me dying so I would backtrack my choices until I could find a path that lasted longer.

See I wanted to outsmart the choices and have the BEST adventure possible. The funny thing is that I didn’t want to experience the adventure for what it was, a unknown storyline where the decisions you made had consequences (both good and bad) and you had to deal with them. No, I wanted a “safe” and “known” adventure where I got what I wanted by my own ways, i.e. cheating. Yes I know that as a youngin I cheated my way through a Choose Your Own Adventure book. I’m not proud to admit this, although at that time I would have lied through my teeth swearing that I made all the “right” decisions on my own just out of good luck and some smart choices.

Funny how our adult life is often not so different from our childhood. The same little gal who had spunk and wanted an adventure, but one that was safe and known, is the same adult woman who likes that her future is out there for the taking but wants to know the end before stepping on the path.

Conditional Faith. Really that is what we are talking about here. I will trust if my demands are met. And my demands are to know the end, to see the prize, to see all the choices and their consequences and have the ability to choose the path of least resistance. I want the assurance that I will get what I want when I reach the end of the road. It isn’t even conditional faith, it isn’t faith at all. For faith is trusting without knowing, at least without knowing all the details, knowing all the end results, knowing how it will end up on this earth. See I know the finality of it all, I’ve been blessed with knowing how the story ends, but the story doesn’t end here on this earth. That part of my future is hidden from me.

Last night I was talking with a friend about this very thing. I mentioned that if I knew how it would all turn out then I would have no problem walking the path. I just needed God to give me a glimpse of the future, to assure me that there were answers at the end.

And then it hit me. Literally I felt my mind “punch me”. For in that instance I looked into a mirror and saw not myself but someone else. Heard not my words but someone else’s. For on Friday I had overheard a student speaking with a teacher. The teacher was explaining the consequences for actions that the student had done (or actually not done). The teacher then tried to encourage the student that if they worked exceptionally hard for the remainder of the year and showed effort and character that there was the possibility for mercy to be given on their account and they might not suffer the consequences of the actions. The student then asked for assurance that if they did all the teacher had asked that they would be guaranteed mercy. The teacher said that he couldn’t guarantee it because it wasn’t in his hands. The student retorted that he didn’t want to do all the work and put forth all the effort if he wasn’t going to get the reward in the end. I remember sitting in my office shaking my head and thinking that this student had just showed his true character. Without the promise of receiving what he wanted he wouldn’t put forth any effort. His character wasn’t to do what was expected because it was expected but to do it because of what he would get out of it. I hurt that this was a student who was so selfish and in that moment showed no appreciation for the grace that had been bestowed upon him.

And that was what came to my mind as I uttered my ill-fated words. How selfish of me. How small of a character I exhibited in that one moment. I gave God an ultimatum that if He would only show me a hint of my future then I would willingly follow him. It wasn’t a thought born out of rebellion or mockery; it was a questioning of my heart. It was honest and really a cry out to God to just show me that there were answers out there but that cry was misplaced. And in His abundant grace, mercy, and love He brought to me a memory of the character that repulsed me and the character I was so close to adopting.

Our lives really are a Choose Your Own Adventure book. Within the confines of our stories and the options God places in our life, we have the opportunity to choose the path we walk. The end of the story is the same, the path is very different. I make choices everyday, some taking me toward God, some taking me away from Him. Every choice I make has a consequence and moves me in a direction. Part of me wishes that the story was at my finger tips, that with a quick flip I could see how this one decision ends up but we don’t have that right.

Faith is not the response to evidence seen, it is a longing for what is unseen but known, for what is unexplained but believed, it is assurance that our hopes are rooted in truth and not emptiness. Faith is lived. Faith is walked, step by step, choice by choice.

And so I realized in that moment, that I want the character that exhibits this faith. I want to be changed, to be new, to be different from whom I was. And I realized that the only way for this to occur is to live the story without knowing the details, to walk the path without always knowing the direction. To do this not out of what I will get in return, not out of assurance that this earthly time will be rewarded with what I want. But to live because He asks me to, to walk because He leads me, to choose because He has brought me to a fork in the road, and to take from every moment the character that He shapes by this story.

For when my story ends, when I reach the last page I hope that I can look at the story as the best part, at the choices as the times when I was most changed, and that I can watch the transformation of Katie from who she once was into Him who loves her.

It is the adventure that we are here for. It is the change that the adventure brings. It is faith that makes the adventure bearable, and faith that carries us along. It is faith that brings the change.

These are a few of my favorite things

Sometimes I like to sing like and dance as if I am Julie Andrews in the sound of music. And I will list off things that make me smile. Gerbera Daisies are definitely one of these things. They are just happy flowers. And tulips, they are wonderful too. Tulips and Gerbera Daisies would be mentioned in my favorite things song.

And then what if I received the flowers from new york lawyers? Wouldn’t that be grand. At least in my song I would have to give credit to someone for the flowers and so I choose new york lawyers. Why you ask? Because I can.

That is all.

Kitty, Kitty, Kitty . . . . don't call me Kitty

It is the end of day on Friday and for this day, and this day ONLY, I will henceforth go by "Kitty".

So on this post, and this post alone, you may revel in calling me Kitty.

Enjoy.

It's like it KNOWS me

In an effort to bring you regular Kpinion programming (without the repeats) I offer this educational, informational, and yet also entertaining task.

Click on the below link.
Select the month of your birth.
Find the day.
Read the random holiday assigned to this day.
Laugh.
Copy it.
Paste it into a comment.
I will laugh.
We will both be laughing.
You will smile because you laughed, and then I laughed, and then we both laughed.

LINK
http://library.thinkquest.org/2886/

My birthday's random holiday is:
October 12 is . . . . International Moment Of Frustration Scream Day
(if I was born the day before it would have been: October 11 is . . . . It's My Party Day, and yet luckily I was not born on the 9th because I would have had to live with . . . . . Moldy Cheese Day)

Programming note: Feel free to also check out other days of notice: your anniversary and . . . . well that is all I can think of but you might have "other" days you want to look at.

Calm

In the midst of chaos, in the midst of change, in the midst of many unknowns, there can still be calm. There is something is so wonderful that in the storm there is calm, there is peace, and there is comfort. When the winds swirl, the rains pound, your vision is blurred, firm land is not in sight, and the compass is broken comfort is found in the truth that you are not alone, you are never alone. Peace shines in the raging storm if you look not at the approaching waves, not at the insurmountable tasks, but at the One standing beside you, at the One who holds your hand, at the One who sees beyond the storm to the light.

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed.
They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven.

Whoever is wise, let him heed these things
and consider the great love of the LORD.
Pslam 107: 28-30, 43


A large part of my life is experiencing a major change. I don't think anyone can fully understand it not being involved in this area. There are many unknowns, many unanswered questions, but one thing is certain: God is working, He is always working. A friend commented that it will take an "act of God" in this area and I was struck by the simplicity that every movent of His hand, of His will is an "act of God". And when it is an "act of God" you are waiting on and not an "act of Man" there is comfort and peace, there is trust and faith, there is assurance that the One who acts will do so out of Righteousness, out of Grace, out of Justice, out of Holiness. But the most comforting thought is that it will be and act of Love.

This is true in so much more than this certain situation. I hope that this truth will be remembered by me in everything.

P.S. Please don't think that the world is falling apart, there are just BIG (read HUGE) changes in my school and we are dealing with those.

Home Base

Did you ever play freeze tag as a kid? A frenzied flurry of little kids scattering in every direction. Arms pumping, legs stretching, all to outrun the pursuer and make it “home”. Even more exciting was a game of tag in an enclosed space, the options to flee are limited and it takes quick dodging to escape the outstretched arms of the tagger. Then you have the unfortunate few who are frozen and act as road blocks in your path of escape. Throw in a few taggers and you have an all out fight for survival. And yet when you make it to home base there is a sense of peace and relief. You still watch the flurry of activity out there in tag-dom but you are safe, you are secure at home.

Life can be like one big game of tag. Everyplace you go there are things seeking to freeze you, to stop you in your tracks and prevent you from reaching home. Others around you are frozen, stuck in their place by life and the craziness it throws at you. Yet home is where you want to be, home is where you feel safe.

I think about the craziness of life, all the things that try and slow us down, or become stumbling blocks to us, all the things that freeze us. These can cause us to fear, to think we will never reach home, we will never be at peace. And yet, we are home, we are safe, we are at peace. Because home is not a specific place we have to reach, it isn’t a safe zone we must cross over to. Home is in our hearts. We are already there. Peace is possible among the flurry of those seeking to freeze us. Safety is ours to claim in the moment, amongst the flurry.

I need to remember that, especially now. Peace, real peace, is possible in the midst of war. Safety, real safety, is there even when danger is at hand.

Perspective. I guess that is what determines if you end up being frozen.

We're not in Kansas anymore Toto

Have you ever woken up one morning not knowing that in effect a lot of what you know to be the status quo is about to change? That was me this morning. And now well, let's just say that if I thought a blank space occupied my near future somehow it became more blanker and yet a whole lot clearer. Yes I am saying the blankness has become clear. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing, it is just different and new and I'm still a bit shell shocked.

Testing Testing 1 . . . . 2 . . . 3

Can you hear me now?

Wheee it's a contest

Eddo just informed me that I need to name my iPod and I am in a quandry as to what name will be just perfect.

So friends (and maybe even some of you anonymous readers) what would be a good name for my iPod?

So I was thinking . . .

and this was more of the day to day generally speaking thinking (although all my other thinking occurs during the day and is fairly general in regards to me though I don't think I am very general in regards to what is normal, although normal is defined by a set standard of what is expected or regarded as the majority and well who defines normal anyway, is it some guy sitting in a white lab coat somewhere or is it defined loosely by the majority, and if so then the majority seems to always be changing so normal would always be changing and I would think that something as important as the state of normalness should be an exact thing, because then well I define myself as normal and all the rest of you as abnormal and really who can argue with me, ok now that I've lost you all let me get back to what I was saying)

Uhhh, wait what was I saying?

Oh yes, now I remember.

Really I am a confusing person, not by design but just by nature. That's ok, if you stick around you figure out how to interpret what I say into normal conversation and I end up being quite entertaining. For example I have a tendency to string together words that are quite different and make them into one concise thought. Often I will say the phrase "yeah . . . . no" or "no . . . . yeah" and continue on with what I was saying, not really alerting the listener whether I am agreeing or disagreeing. In fact I think of this phrase as more of a transition in my thinking, or actually I guess I use it to buy time as I think and have no words to say in that moment, so a quick waffling of whether I agree or disagree allows me to get about three sentences ahead in the conversation in those few precious seconds when I am uttering the "yeah . . . . no" phrase (and mind you the " . . . . " actually denotes a few seconds of dead air as I seem to ponder my agreement, when in fact I am thinking of other things). See you never knew that having a conversation with me would require a dictionary, road map, and maybe just maybe a medical textbook.

Ha, Ha, Ha, if any of you have every experienced the above in conversation with me than I applaud you and thank you for continuing to be my friend. I am a bit "odd" at times but really without the oddity I think I would be rather boring and no one likes boring but many people enjoy oddity if just for the entertainment.

So I got an iPod (anyone know why the "i" is lowercase while the "P" is uppercase?) for Christmas, a nice shiny black one that plays video. It is so trendy and cool and makes me feel like I am part of the new generation of trendy people. In fact I felt like as soon as I got my iPod I might become a shadow image with colorful backgrounds and begin dancing (OR roller skating - because I really like to roller skate and I am so entranced by the new roller skating/dancing phenomenon - although when I was in sixth grade and the cool hangout on Friday nights was the roller rink and there was this one older guy who would wear coaching shorts (which by the way are a fashion faux pas in my mind, on the ball field let alone in real life) and would roller-dance we thought it was pretty weird - but really I want to rent the movie Roll Bounce so that I can pick up some cool roller dance moves and then put on my iPod and suddenly turn into a shadow dancer and they would make commercials about me.

So my trendy cool new iPod has sat so patiently in its little black case waiting for me to play with it. The problem is that an iPod takes a lot of startup work. I want it to come with all the best music that I will ever want to listen to already downloaded and set up. But try as I might this iPod can do a lot of things, yet suddenly appearing with all the best music magically downloaded is not one of them. So today I spent a few hours downloading the CDs I carry in my car (the must listens) and I'm thinking I will end up with about 500 songs. Then there are the every-so-often listen to CDs at home and that will probably be another 500 (maybe more though because I am not ashamed to admit that I own the Garth Brooks Box Set - I was in high school, and well I live in Texas people, country music is a requirement, much like taxes, although I don't know if I've listened to a whole lot of country music since high school but you never know when Garth Brooks might be needed and I will have him stored away in my trust iPod).

The scary thing now is that there is a whole new world opened to me by the way of iTunes (again with the lower case "i"). This might be too much for me to handle, every song ever written there at my fingertips, for only $.99, I mean how will I be able to pass up such great wonders as "Puff the Magic Dragon", or "Ice Ice Baby", or "MmmmmBop", or many many more. And I CAN, I have them all there available to me.

(Quick break in programming to bring you this up to the minute announcement, I have a small bit of happiness and joy that the CD I am currently downloading is labeled by the genre METAL – oh I may own some Garth Brooks but I also own METAL, I’m banging my head at the moment and the blonde hair is flying (jes, roger, eddie, you’ve seen this in person so you can picture it clearly) ahhhh the joys of having an eclectic music collection)

So all the above was really just random typing as I wait for all my CDs to download, aren’t you glad you stopped by to witness the randomness that is my mind.

Because I do everything Jessica tells me to, within reason that is

See my friend Jes is an entrepreuner of sorts, she is always on the look out for new and exciting things. One of those is to make money blogging. She is a cracker jack of sorts at this and it seems, very good at it too.

Jes does this by talking about such things as bridesmaid gifts . I though have no use for bridesmaid gifts because I have no maids of the bride. Hmmm, this gets me thinking, I know you can have a maid of honor, and a matron of honor, but can you have bridesmatrons? Because I've been a bridesmaid when there have been married bridesmaids and a married matron of honor, so wouldn't reason seem to say that you would need to call your married bridesmaids, bridematrons? Just a thought.

Jes also does the above by sharing with you the joys of collecting US Silver Coins. I was never really a coin collector. I do remember having the penny collection book where you would get pennys from every year. I also remember that my father had this HUGE glass jug that he would put coins in and I always wanted to dump it out and look at all the pennies so that they could go in my book. Hmmm, I do have a silver certificate. Which is a dollar bill that is worth a specific weight of silver. I got it when I worked at the Piggly Wiggly in high school and this older gentlman paid with five of them and all the checkers decided to trade our "normal" dollars for a new silver certificate. I still have it somewhere, I think.

Well here it is, I have done as Jessica instructed. Now if I did everything as Jessica instructed life would get a bit interesting, but really would that be so bad?

Free form day 2

Prayer is one of the biggest acts of faith. The small part we play in salvation, the one act that we must do is a prayer.

It is the trust that our cries are not floating out to the cosmos, echoing off the stars. Prayer is intimate, it is humbling, it is what we give ourselves over to, what we give our loved ones over to, it is the confession of our secret sins, it is the birthplace of our repentance, the sharing of our hopes and fears, it is the slow removal of our masks, revealing the bareness of our soul, it is when we are most real, most vulnerable. All our barriers are down, we are seen, we are heard, we are known. And in that moment, the hopes and pleadings of a child collide with the love and comfort of the Father.

We are drawn into a place of intimacy, into the presence of the Lord. We have His attention. He is enraptured with our voice, with our hearts. It is the moment when God promises to be wholly focused on us, hanging on our words, hearing the unspoken, knowing the unmentionable, and seeing the depths of our hearts. It is here that we can feel the majesty of God and yet know His intimacy, being the focus of a mighty God.

Our praises rising to heaven, delighting His ears, our confession touching His heart of mercy, our thanks piling at His feet, our desires and pleadings noted within His will. In this moment we can boldly approach His throne, and while we may not see Him we are at once in His presence.

Prayer is a priviledge, to have the ear of the almighty God, to have His undivided attention focused on us, on our words. That our voices are sweet to Him, that this time is so precious to Him that He gives it to us. He bends down to hear our cries.


Psalm 138
I will give You thanks with all my heart;
I will sing praises to You before the gods.
I will bow down toward Your holy temple
And give thanks to Your name for Your lovingkindness and Your truth;
For You have magnified Your word according to all Your name.
On the day I called, You answered me;
You made me bold with strength in my soul.
All the kings of the earth will give thanks to You, O LORD,
When they have heard the words of Your mouth.
And they will sing of the ways of the LORD,
For great is the glory of the LORD.
For though the LORD is exalted,
Yet He regards the lowly,
But the haughty He knows from afar.
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me;
You will stretch forth Your hand against the wrath of my enemies,
And Your right hand will save me.
The LORD will accomplish what concerns me;
Your lovingkindness, O LORD, is everlasting;
Do not forsake the works of Your hands.

Free form

I laugh when I think of who I am. Really I laugh, because who but me knows who I am? Noone really. I love my family and friends but they don't know all of me, they don't see all of me. Really noone sees all of me. There are different parts of my personality that come out depending on the situation, some of these are natural and some are orchestrated by me because I want to appear a certain way in front of certain people. And while I might marvel at the different takes that people have depending on the situation they know me from, I am reminded that there is one who knows me completely, and more than anyone other than me ever will. And while I laugh at the randomness that is Katie, and I might question the unknown future that I will soon be a part of, I am comforted that the one who controls it, who sets my path before me, is the same one who created me, who has seen every part of my life, who has heard every word of my mouth, and who even hears the unspoken thoughts and cries. This is the one who directs me, who lays before me my future, who knows the roads I will travel and steps I will take, the stumbles that will occur, and the moments of joy that I will experience. There is trust in the unknown when you know the One who made you, and know the One who set you on this path, and you know the One who has seen the future and knows the end of the story. So I set my eyes on Him, not on the unknown road ahead of me, not on the question marks that cloud the future, but on Him who made me, who loves me, and who holds my hand as I walk a path that He knows. I guess I forget that He created me, He knows who I am, and He has seen who I will become and where I will go. Yep, so that is my free form thinking. Have a great day everyone.

Sick and Quiet

It was inevitable. I work at a school with germ infested munchkins. Really I think a school is the perfect breeding ground for any new viral strains that can be used in germ warfare. Hmmmmm, I bet that last sentence is going to get me lots of visits by some crazies and a few governmental agencies.

Alas, I am sick. I have made it the entire school year without a sniffle or a cough and yesterday it hit will full force. My throat felt like I just drank a gallon of bleach (Heathers anyone?). I slept for the majority of the day and reveled in my sickness.

So today I decided I will not let the sickness get me down. And here I sit at work trying to get things in order for Spring Break (a perk of working at a school). Yet I find it hard to work when my head actually feels like it is floating about three feet above my body. You know the feeling, when you aren’t really sure if everything around you is real, and when you hear your voice you swear that it isn’t you talking.

So in the midst of my quietness (I’m still here just not as forthcoming with opinions as before, don’t worry quietness might not be in my normal nature, but it happens every once in a while) I am now struggling with sickness.

That’s all I got, if any of the above doesn't make sense, blame the fact that my head is not attached to my body at the moment.

I know, I know

I'm being quiet and I realize that is a little disconcerting for many of you. In fact, the words quiet and kpinion have never been in a sentence before. Well tada, now they have.

Hmmmmmm, really it isn't that my brain is quiet, as if that has ever happened.

But thinking and posting are two different things. I'm thinking but not quite getting the posting part worked out.

But I will leave you with a bit of new information, dear internet world. I have now officially thrown my hat into the job-searching ring, as I gave notice of my intention to not return to my school after the end of the school year. So now it is time for resumes, interviews, and a wide open field of opportunity. Hmmmmm, maybe this is the culprit for my non-posting. Not sure.

I'm going to work to get something out of my head for later. We'll see.

Princesses and Heroes

The dress hangs on her little body. The folds of fabric pooling at her feet hide the shoes she struggles to fill. Costume jewelry of all kinds and colors is layered around her neck and wrists. Bright eye shadow colors her lids, her lips a rosy pink, and upon her head sits a plastic crown.

The sweat pants are a loose and saggy substitute for tights. The gym shorts that are a few sizes too small are pulled over top. His t-shirt is emblazoned with the symbol of strength and justice. His arms are outstretched as his bath towel cape flutters in the wind. A mask covers his eyes, hiding the little boy and announcing the hero.

Make believe, dress up, the imagination of a child to be whatever they want, whatever they desire.

Reality has no power in the mind of these children, only hope and dreams are truth. They believe and so they are, it is that simple.

And yet the princess grows up and slowly sheds the too-big shoes, her mother’s dress, and the gaudy jewelry of the past. The plastic tiara loses its magic and reality creeps in pushing away the hopes and dreams. She realizes she isn’t a princess; she is just herself, normal, average, everyday. She may even begin to question the hope and dream of being a princess, being special, being set-apart. The crown that once shone with jewels and glory is now seen as plastic and cheap. The charade is over, the dream was never real.

The hero grows up and the tights and shorts combo are quickly left behind. Somewhere along the way the cape became just a towel again, the enchantment of it fading until it was gone. The t-shirt that signified his dream might be held on to, but now as a memory that slowly dies away with time. He is older and dreams of saving the world diminish and are replaced by dreams of success. He is average, normal, everyday, he is no hero, nothing special. The magic is gone, the power diminished. The charade is over, the dream was never real.

Somewhere, somehow, both began to stop believing. The world convinced them they weren’t a princess and a hero; they were simply average, maybe even less than average. Reality brought with it darkness and clouds that chased away the light of dreams and hope. A grayness settled in where color and imagination once reigned.

But what if the princess wasn’t made by her dress or jewelry, or even her crown? What if the costume was only the expression of a truth?

What if the hero didn’t need the disguise? What if his powers didn’t rest in his cape or his precious shirt?

What if the princess and the hero were these things already and still? What if the dream was true? What if they were who they were, a princess and a hero, because someone saw them as such? What if the world didn’t dictate reality, what if the hope was truth?

Would she know that she was called a princess by the King? Could she know that royalty was within her already?

Would he know he was seen as a hero by the most Powerful? Could he know that power was within him to be able to make a difference?

Can the child who once hoped and dreamed grow up to be someone who could do it once again?

Can the innocent hopes of a child become the truth held dear by an adult? Can they see themselves for who they are in another’s eyes? Not the world’s, not the dictation of reality, but who they are in One that is greater, One that defines truth.


Princesses
Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.
Romans 8:17

So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir. Galatians 4:7

Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him? James 2:5

Heroes
I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high." Luke 24:49

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Acts 1:8

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. 2 Tim 1:7

Not gone just quiet

Quiet isn't always bad, it just is.