Do you ever feel blown away at the tangible ways that the Lord answers prayers? Sometimes, I feel as though I pray and pray and pray and wait and wait and wait. Other times, answers seem to come immediately. This is how it went this past week.
In my class of fourth graders, I have a range of students, backgrounds, abilities, and reading levels. Some of my students have lots of support from home, others have almost none. Some live in nice houses with cement block walls and electricity and have indoor kitchens. Others live in houses made of mud bricks with roofs of palm leaves and outdoor kitchens with meals cooked over a fire. Some eat three meals a day and always have a snack to bring to school. Others eat one meal a day and almost never bring a snack. We have a variety of students. With that comes a variety of reading levels.
As a teacher, my training is to teach high school Spanish or English. Typically if I am teaching high school, I am not teaching someone the basics of reading: the students come to my class knowing how to read. Teaching fourth grade is presenting a whole host of challenges, but with it is teaching students how to read. As I would in a classroom in the States, I have a few students in my class who are really struggling with reading. And I am struggling with knowing how to reach them. I have tried a few different things and am having some success, but we are still struggling. Last week in the middle of the week, I was feeling so discouraged. Every day I felt as though I was constantly crying out the Lord for wisdom to know how to reach all of my kids, but especially my kids who are struggling. What can I do to help them? How can I reach them? Lord, I need someone who knows more than I do. Please, Lord, please. Help me to reach these kids. Give me wisdom.
Fast forward to Monday of this week. Only a few short days after I began begging the Lord and asking Him specifically for help with reading. Monday of this week, I walked into our teachers room and met a visiting teacher. As we started chatting, you know what she told me? That she is working this year as a reading recovery teacher. She is working this year doing exactly what I asked the Lord for wisdom with. Holy smokes. Answer. To. Prayer. So real. So tangible. So fast. So so so helpful.
Praise. Jesus. She armed me with so much wisdom, so much insight, and so many tangible things to try. Praise Jesus.
Does Jesus always answer prayers this fast or in this way? Nope. BUT, you know what it reminded me of? He hears me. He sees me. He knows me. He loves me. Even when I feel discouraged. He hears me. Even when I feel lost. He sees me. Even when I feel alone. He knows me. Even when I feel hopeless. He loves me. He is there. My prayers are powerful. Your prayers are powerful. Keep praying. Keep begging. Keep talking. He is there. He hears. He sees. He knows. He loves. Always. Forever.
- Katie
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Monday, March 21, 2016
Two years
Two years. January 26 marked our two year anniversary of arriving in Honduras. Two years of being stretched in ways that we never imagined. Two years of being hotter and sweating more than I ever thought possible. Two years of sorrows and joy, of fears and love, of failures and successes. Two years of peace and craziness, of beauty and brokenness, of growth and death. Two of the best years of my life. Two of the hardest years of my life. Two years of life in Honduras.
The first day I heard about Loma de Luz we were at the Global Missions Health Conference in Kentucky. God made it so obvious that he was calling us to this place. He went above and beyond, making it clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is where he wanted us. I have often asked myself why he made it so clear? Maybe he knows the state of my wandering heart. Maybe he knows how I am prone to doubt. Maybe he knows how slow I am to obey. Maybe he loves me and wants me to have something to hold onto on the days he knows I struggle. Maybe it is all of those things. He sees me. He knows me. He loves me anyways.
I think back to that person I was that day in November three years ago at that conference. I almost feel like I don't know that person anymore ... I have changed so much. My perspective has changed, the way I see the world has changed, the way I see my culture has changed, the way I see people has changed, the way I see my God has changed.
I thought that living in a poor country different than my own would clarify things for me, that I would have more answers about how to solve hunger and bring peace and heal brokenness. It hasn't really done any of those things. In fact, I often feel like it has just brought me more confusion as I grapple with those huge overwhelming questions. But, the thing I do know now more than ever before is that love wins. His way wins. His way is always better. Love is always the right choice. Love is always the best choice. He is always the best choice. His way is always the best choice.
The last few weeks I have been overcome by the love that God has for me. The Jesus Storybook Bible says that his love for me is a, "Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Un-breaking, Always and Forever Love." No matter what I do. No matter where I go. One thing remains, one thing is certain: His love for me. Life is crazy. It is uncertain. It is challenging. Yet, He never stops. He never gives up. He never breaks. He is always. He is forever. Love for me. Love for you. Incredible.
- Katie
The first day I heard about Loma de Luz we were at the Global Missions Health Conference in Kentucky. God made it so obvious that he was calling us to this place. He went above and beyond, making it clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is where he wanted us. I have often asked myself why he made it so clear? Maybe he knows the state of my wandering heart. Maybe he knows how I am prone to doubt. Maybe he knows how slow I am to obey. Maybe he loves me and wants me to have something to hold onto on the days he knows I struggle. Maybe it is all of those things. He sees me. He knows me. He loves me anyways.
I think back to that person I was that day in November three years ago at that conference. I almost feel like I don't know that person anymore ... I have changed so much. My perspective has changed, the way I see the world has changed, the way I see my culture has changed, the way I see people has changed, the way I see my God has changed.
I thought that living in a poor country different than my own would clarify things for me, that I would have more answers about how to solve hunger and bring peace and heal brokenness. It hasn't really done any of those things. In fact, I often feel like it has just brought me more confusion as I grapple with those huge overwhelming questions. But, the thing I do know now more than ever before is that love wins. His way wins. His way is always better. Love is always the right choice. Love is always the best choice. He is always the best choice. His way is always the best choice.
The last few weeks I have been overcome by the love that God has for me. The Jesus Storybook Bible says that his love for me is a, "Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Un-breaking, Always and Forever Love." No matter what I do. No matter where I go. One thing remains, one thing is certain: His love for me. Life is crazy. It is uncertain. It is challenging. Yet, He never stops. He never gives up. He never breaks. He is always. He is forever. Love for me. Love for you. Incredible.
- Katie
Not a bad view for a picnic
They are all so different
Popsicles
Teaching
As many of you know, starting in February, I entered into the wonderful world of teaching. Our hospital has a few incredible ministries associated with it, one of which is El Camino Bilingual School. Back in November, I knew that there would most likely be a need for teachers for this year (there still is! shoot me an email if you're interested!). I felt the Lord prompting me that this is something I should pursue. Honestly, I was TERRIFIED. My Bachelor's degree is in Secondary Spanish Education, meaning high school, meaning maybe junior high, meaning definitely NOT elementary. Since El Camino currently only goes through fourth grade (we add a grade each year with the hope and dream to one day go through high school), that would mean, in my mind, that I was definitely not qualified for teaching until sometime in the future when the school included junior high and high school. In my prayer time, I tried to explain that to the Lord. I told him about how unqualified I am. I told him about the strain it would put on our family. I told him about how I have no clue how to teach elementary. I told him all the reasons why this idea just wouldn't work. He didn't seem to understand ;) and kept prompting me to volunteer. So I did.
Fast forward four months and I am currently six weeks into the school year of teaching fourth grade at El Camino Bilingual School. And you know what? I LOVE it. Love. It. Has it been hard? Absolutely. Has it been overwhelming? Without a doubt. Has it presented challenges and changes for our family? You bet. Have I cried and felt like I couldn't do it another day? Yes. Have I felt that there are not possibly enough hours in the day for all that I need to get done? Yes. And again, has it been hard? Hell, yes (excuse my language). Is it still hard? Yes. Are there still days I want to give up? Yes. Am I sure that this is where God has called not only me but also my family for this year? 100% yes.
I am learning and growing. I am remembering parts of who God made me that I had forgotten and that I really like. I am learning how to parent and love my girls better. I am learning more and better ways of how to help kids feel seen, and important, and loved. I am remembering how exciting and crazy and unending Jesus' love is for me. I am remembering talents and gifts that He gave me that I had forgotten I had.
So many ways I am growing and changing. So many ways that my family is growing and changing. None of it would be happening if I had convinced myself that I didn't need to say yes, that I didn't need to obey. So often, it is so stinkin' hard to follow where he leads. It hurts. It stretches. It pushes. It pulls. BUT, teaching is reminding me, once again, that his ways are better than my ways. He knows me. He loves me. He is trustworthy. He calls me to hard things. He asks seemingly impossible things of me. They hurt. They stretch. They push. They pull. BUT, they are good. They are life giving. They are truth giving. Because, he is the author of them. He is truth. He is life. He is love. He knows. He sees. He has the best.
- Katie
- Katie
My beautiful classroom
First week of school
Fourth grade ... reading Mr Popper's Penguins and learning what it means to 'pose' for a picture
Recess
One-armed handstands at recess
Our fourth grade class. We have 15 amazing students.
My co-teacher, Meredith, arrived back from furlough. Yay! She will be teaching Math and Science and I will be teaching Language Arts, Reading, and Bible.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Obedience
People. It is 2016. What? And it's not like today is January 1st, its the 16th! What is happening? Also. What is wrong with my blogging skills, or lack thereof? Sheesh.
So many things have been rattling around in my head since the last post. It feels like so much has happened since OCTOBER. For real, though? I need to get with the blogging program.
We were in Arizona for six weeks for the Holidays. Being in the States was so good and so hard all wrapped into one. People were often asking if it felt good to be home. What a confusing question to answer. The thing is that Arizona no longer feels like home. It felt good to be back. It felt amazing to be with family. It was fun to eat so much delicious food. But, it was weird because it didn't feel like home.
I honestly struggled a lot while we were in the States. So many conflicting emotions, so many hard questions to answer. It made me feel frustrated with this Honduras thing that we have done.
Sometimes Honduras feels so great, like such a cool adventure that we are on. Our girls are having new experiences, learning a new language, meeting new friends, cliff jumping, zip-lining, motorcycle riding, wearing ratty clothes, collecting spiders and bugs, and having an adventure. We are having new experiences and meeting new people and seeing the world and Jesus through new eyes.
And sometimes, Honduras feels so hard. We are saying a lot of really hard goodbyes. Saying goodbye to our incredibly amazing family who we adore is hard. Saying goodbye to friends in the States is hard. Saying goodbye to friends in Honduras who have become like family who have decided to move back to the States is hard. Saying goodbye to people from short term teams who we have come to love is hard. This feeling of not belonging is hard. When we were back in the States, I found myself longing for the time before we ever started this Honduras thing because in that space I didn't feel caught between two worlds. That's how I feel. I feel caught between worlds. This Honduras world doesn't quite fit because it doesn't have the family and friends that are home to me. The US doesn't quite fit because it doesn't have all of the familiar things and places and people that Honduras does. It feels too big and too loud and too comfortable and has oh so many options.
As I struggled, I kept asking why. Why have we done this? Why are we making these sacrifices? Why are we giving up relationships? Why are we saying goodbye? Why are we giving more than we have to give? Why are we pushing ourselves? And stretching ourselves? Why me? Why, Jesus, why? What good am I doing? What is this accomplishing? Do I even make a difference? Why?
As I asked and pondered and mulled through these questions, someone said to me, "Jesus sees you and your sacrifice and He rewards obedience. He is faithful." Hmm. He is faithful. Yes. He rewards obedience. Not sure. That seems like a big statement. And one that may be widely accepted and believed in Christian circles. Maybe you agree, maybe you don't, but I found myself questioning it. Have I found this to be true in my life? Has he rewarded obedience? Does my life look like I thought it would or like I wanted it to look? If it does or doesn't, does that mean that he has or hasn't rewarded my obedience? What does rewarding obedience mean? What I would like for it to mean is that because I sacrifice and I am willing to obey, that he will make my life look like I think it should look and want it to look. If my life doesn't look that way, then I assume that he doesn't reward obedience and I get upset because he isn't doing what he is supposed to do. Hmm. I don't think I'm on the right track here. I am realizing that I have been asking myself the wrong question and focusing on the wrong thing: the reward. "Jesus, don't you know what I've sacrificed? What's in it for me?" I have gotten sidetracked and focused on the wrong thing. I should be thanking and praising him for HIS sacrifice. I should be asking, what can I do to love him more, to thank him more, to praise him more?
One reason I have avoided writing another blog post is because I seem to always be processing through hard stuff. There is joy. These days Kyler is bringing so much JOY. That girl. She's funny. She loves animals. She loves music. She loves dancing. She loves her sisters. She teaches our family how to laugh. So often, the five of us sit and watch how funny she is and just marvel at her being her. JOY. Watching my girls love each other. They fight so much, but the sweetness and the love and the laughter is there. And when it is there, it is SWEET. There is just something about the love of and relationship with a sibling. And there is more. The colors of the ocean. The song of the toucan. The howl of the monkey. The splash of the water. The tricks on the bicycle. The healing of a patient. The restoration of a relationship. Sweet moments, joy. But, so often, the joy feels hidden in the pain and the struggles of life. And so often, I feel like all I do is think and process the hard and the pain and the struggle. And that gets tiring. And so I don't write. But, the writing gives life and truth and realness to the hard. And it helps it to loose its power somehow. And it helps the truth to seem more real and more joyful. So, tonight, here's to the joy, alongside the pain. Here's to the sacrifice. Praise Jesus for his ultimate sacrifice. He is good.
Thanks for reading :)
- Katie
So many things have been rattling around in my head since the last post. It feels like so much has happened since OCTOBER. For real, though? I need to get with the blogging program.
We were in Arizona for six weeks for the Holidays. Being in the States was so good and so hard all wrapped into one. People were often asking if it felt good to be home. What a confusing question to answer. The thing is that Arizona no longer feels like home. It felt good to be back. It felt amazing to be with family. It was fun to eat so much delicious food. But, it was weird because it didn't feel like home.
I honestly struggled a lot while we were in the States. So many conflicting emotions, so many hard questions to answer. It made me feel frustrated with this Honduras thing that we have done.
Sometimes Honduras feels so great, like such a cool adventure that we are on. Our girls are having new experiences, learning a new language, meeting new friends, cliff jumping, zip-lining, motorcycle riding, wearing ratty clothes, collecting spiders and bugs, and having an adventure. We are having new experiences and meeting new people and seeing the world and Jesus through new eyes.
And sometimes, Honduras feels so hard. We are saying a lot of really hard goodbyes. Saying goodbye to our incredibly amazing family who we adore is hard. Saying goodbye to friends in the States is hard. Saying goodbye to friends in Honduras who have become like family who have decided to move back to the States is hard. Saying goodbye to people from short term teams who we have come to love is hard. This feeling of not belonging is hard. When we were back in the States, I found myself longing for the time before we ever started this Honduras thing because in that space I didn't feel caught between two worlds. That's how I feel. I feel caught between worlds. This Honduras world doesn't quite fit because it doesn't have the family and friends that are home to me. The US doesn't quite fit because it doesn't have all of the familiar things and places and people that Honduras does. It feels too big and too loud and too comfortable and has oh so many options.
As I struggled, I kept asking why. Why have we done this? Why are we making these sacrifices? Why are we giving up relationships? Why are we saying goodbye? Why are we giving more than we have to give? Why are we pushing ourselves? And stretching ourselves? Why me? Why, Jesus, why? What good am I doing? What is this accomplishing? Do I even make a difference? Why?
As I asked and pondered and mulled through these questions, someone said to me, "Jesus sees you and your sacrifice and He rewards obedience. He is faithful." Hmm. He is faithful. Yes. He rewards obedience. Not sure. That seems like a big statement. And one that may be widely accepted and believed in Christian circles. Maybe you agree, maybe you don't, but I found myself questioning it. Have I found this to be true in my life? Has he rewarded obedience? Does my life look like I thought it would or like I wanted it to look? If it does or doesn't, does that mean that he has or hasn't rewarded my obedience? What does rewarding obedience mean? What I would like for it to mean is that because I sacrifice and I am willing to obey, that he will make my life look like I think it should look and want it to look. If my life doesn't look that way, then I assume that he doesn't reward obedience and I get upset because he isn't doing what he is supposed to do. Hmm. I don't think I'm on the right track here. I am realizing that I have been asking myself the wrong question and focusing on the wrong thing: the reward. "Jesus, don't you know what I've sacrificed? What's in it for me?" I have gotten sidetracked and focused on the wrong thing. I should be thanking and praising him for HIS sacrifice. I should be asking, what can I do to love him more, to thank him more, to praise him more?
One reason I have avoided writing another blog post is because I seem to always be processing through hard stuff. There is joy. These days Kyler is bringing so much JOY. That girl. She's funny. She loves animals. She loves music. She loves dancing. She loves her sisters. She teaches our family how to laugh. So often, the five of us sit and watch how funny she is and just marvel at her being her. JOY. Watching my girls love each other. They fight so much, but the sweetness and the love and the laughter is there. And when it is there, it is SWEET. There is just something about the love of and relationship with a sibling. And there is more. The colors of the ocean. The song of the toucan. The howl of the monkey. The splash of the water. The tricks on the bicycle. The healing of a patient. The restoration of a relationship. Sweet moments, joy. But, so often, the joy feels hidden in the pain and the struggles of life. And so often, I feel like all I do is think and process the hard and the pain and the struggle. And that gets tiring. And so I don't write. But, the writing gives life and truth and realness to the hard. And it helps it to loose its power somehow. And it helps the truth to seem more real and more joyful. So, tonight, here's to the joy, alongside the pain. Here's to the sacrifice. Praise Jesus for his ultimate sacrifice. He is good.
Thanks for reading :)
- Katie
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
The Bumper
Over the past year and a half, I (and everyone within close proximity to us) have come to the conclusion that cars hate Peter and I. Every time we come within driving distance of a car, the car seems to sense our presence, and henceforth feels compelled to break. I know cars are not living and breathing, but we do NOT have good luck with cars. We bought one when we moved to Honduras a year a half ago. It has been drive-able for about 5 months of that time. So frustrating, although at this point it has become comical. If I don't laugh, I will cry, ya know? Anyways.
A friend of ours here was going out of town for a couple of weeks and offered her truck to us to use in the time she was gone (she is brave). We agreed to take it into town for a routine 110, 000km check while we were using it. We went into town, dropped it off at the car place, waited for it to be fixed, went to the grocery store, and were on our way back home a mere six hrs later (ha! everything seems to take exponentially longer here). We arrived home and began unloading groceries. As I was coming around the back of the truck with the last load of groceries in hand, I noticed that the back bumper was no longer on the truck. I yelled to Peter, he came out, assured me that the bumper had been on the car when we left the dealership, and went to look for the bumper.
We live about an hour and a half away from town where we do our grocery shopping, have our cars worked on, etc. Forty five minutes of that drive is on a very bumpy dirt road, so it did not seem outside the realm of possibility that the bumper had fallen off of the truck in our trek home.
When Peter left to go in search of the bumper, it was almost dark. As he drove, he shone his lights back and forth on the road, trying to look in the ditches to see if maybe it could've fallen to the wayside.
He got to a village that is about twenty minutes from where we live when a taxi chased him down, with the taxi driver waving out the windows for Peter to stop. Peter slowed and began talking with the guy. He asked Peter what he was looking for and said that his friend might know what had happened to the bumper. He didn't want to answer any of Peter's questions, and seemed to be trying to figure out if he could somehow get some money out of the deal. When Peter realized that the taxi driver was not going to be helpful, he gave the taxi driver his phone number, told him that if he could find the bumper, Peter would have a big gift for him, and came home.
When Peter arrived home, I couldn't believe it ... someone was essentially holding the bumper for ransom?! Off of a truck that wasn't ours?! I did not want to have to tell Judy that we had lost part of her truck (I warned you that cars hate us - ha!). Within minutes of Peter arriving home, he received a phone call from the taxi driver saying that he had been able to find the bumper and he wanted to know how big of a reward we had for him. Peter assured him that it would be worth his while, asked our neighbor to go with him to pick it up, and left to retrieve the bumper. About an hour later, they returned with the bumper in our possession and were only $15 poorer because of it. Life in Honduras is never short of adventure!
A friend of ours here was going out of town for a couple of weeks and offered her truck to us to use in the time she was gone (she is brave). We agreed to take it into town for a routine 110, 000km check while we were using it. We went into town, dropped it off at the car place, waited for it to be fixed, went to the grocery store, and were on our way back home a mere six hrs later (ha! everything seems to take exponentially longer here). We arrived home and began unloading groceries. As I was coming around the back of the truck with the last load of groceries in hand, I noticed that the back bumper was no longer on the truck. I yelled to Peter, he came out, assured me that the bumper had been on the car when we left the dealership, and went to look for the bumper.
We live about an hour and a half away from town where we do our grocery shopping, have our cars worked on, etc. Forty five minutes of that drive is on a very bumpy dirt road, so it did not seem outside the realm of possibility that the bumper had fallen off of the truck in our trek home.
When Peter left to go in search of the bumper, it was almost dark. As he drove, he shone his lights back and forth on the road, trying to look in the ditches to see if maybe it could've fallen to the wayside.
He got to a village that is about twenty minutes from where we live when a taxi chased him down, with the taxi driver waving out the windows for Peter to stop. Peter slowed and began talking with the guy. He asked Peter what he was looking for and said that his friend might know what had happened to the bumper. He didn't want to answer any of Peter's questions, and seemed to be trying to figure out if he could somehow get some money out of the deal. When Peter realized that the taxi driver was not going to be helpful, he gave the taxi driver his phone number, told him that if he could find the bumper, Peter would have a big gift for him, and came home.
When Peter arrived home, I couldn't believe it ... someone was essentially holding the bumper for ransom?! Off of a truck that wasn't ours?! I did not want to have to tell Judy that we had lost part of her truck (I warned you that cars hate us - ha!). Within minutes of Peter arriving home, he received a phone call from the taxi driver saying that he had been able to find the bumper and he wanted to know how big of a reward we had for him. Peter assured him that it would be worth his while, asked our neighbor to go with him to pick it up, and left to retrieve the bumper. About an hour later, they returned with the bumper in our possession and were only $15 poorer because of it. Life in Honduras is never short of adventure!
 |
| This taxi is similar to the one that chased Peter down |
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Daily time
I have been re-realizing (pretty sure thats not a word, but, well, you know what i mean) the importance of quiet time with the Lord. I mean, I know that it is important. I know that it should be my priority. I have known that since I was in junior high. Youth pastors tell you. Head pastors tell you. Parents tell you. Teachers tell you. Mentors tell you. Spend. Time. With. Jesus. Every day. No distractions. Just do it. But, if I am being honest, its hard to find the time every day. Life is busy. Kids get up early. Kids stay up late. Work is hard. School is busy. Homework is never-ending. There is always more ministry. One last email to write. One last phone call to make. The list goes on and on. Finding quiet time is hard. And honestly, at times, I can go weeks without spending good quality time with my Jesus. BUT, over the past few months, my Jesus has been patiently showing me just how important spending time with him is.
About four months ago, I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a picture of one of my friends who was switching over to a new prayer journal. And it stuck with me. Journaling and writing has been a huge part of my walk with Jesus, from the time I first gave my heart to him. It has allowed me a safe place to pray and vent and cry and rejoice. It has shown me how to be real and true in my relationship with the Lord, while at the same time showing praise and respect and awe for who Jesus is. Somehow, in the busyness of life and kids and moving and ministry, my way of connecting with Jesus fell to the side, because I didn't "have time". As I stared at that picture, I heard Jesus speak to the depths of me and challenge me to get a new journal. So, the next week when we went into town for groceries, I found a journal and I started back up again. Making time for Jesus. Daily. To be real. To talk with Him about the truth of my heart. To worship Him. To praise Him. To be accountable. To be in relationship. For the last four months, I have only missed a three or four days of spending time with Him. I am NOT saying this to boast in myself, but to boast in Him. He is changing me. He is teaching me accountability. He is transforming me. He is showing me the power in prayer. He is showing me the power in His word. He is teaching me joy, an peace, and contentment. He is making me new.
I struggle with how to make this real and how to stress the importance of this. There are so many Christian have-to's and sayings and cliches. How do I talk about this truth and reality without bringing on eye-rolls and "uh-huh". How do I truly teach my girls and talk to them about the importance of a quiet time without having it become some kind of cliche to them? How do I truly impress the importance on them? I'm not too sure, really. I think that I make it a priority in my life. I model what I preach. I show them the ways that it makes me a better mom to them and show them how it changes me. I allow Jesus to change me and transform me. I give Him credit in those moments where change happens.
I don't know why I struggle so much with Christian cliches. I don't know why they get under my skin so much. But what I am learning, is that so many of those cliches and things that make me roll my eyes are TRUTH. Even if I don't want to teach my kids a cliche, I need to and want to teach them the TRUTH. I want to teach them how to grow and change and become more like Jesus.
I am constantly amazed at the lessons that I keep "learning" over and over again. I started my relationship with Jesus about 20 years ago (yes, I am old). Spending time with Him daily seems so basic, yet it is a lesson that I keep having to learn over and over again. As I am learning this lesson over again, I am learning about myself to. I am learning that writing is an important part of who I am. It helps me process and grow and connect. It helps me grow closer to Jesus. It brings me joy. For you, it might not be journaling. It might be something else. Find what that thing is. Connect with Jesus EVERY day. He will change you, as he is changing me. He is so faithful.
- Katie
About four months ago, I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a picture of one of my friends who was switching over to a new prayer journal. And it stuck with me. Journaling and writing has been a huge part of my walk with Jesus, from the time I first gave my heart to him. It has allowed me a safe place to pray and vent and cry and rejoice. It has shown me how to be real and true in my relationship with the Lord, while at the same time showing praise and respect and awe for who Jesus is. Somehow, in the busyness of life and kids and moving and ministry, my way of connecting with Jesus fell to the side, because I didn't "have time". As I stared at that picture, I heard Jesus speak to the depths of me and challenge me to get a new journal. So, the next week when we went into town for groceries, I found a journal and I started back up again. Making time for Jesus. Daily. To be real. To talk with Him about the truth of my heart. To worship Him. To praise Him. To be accountable. To be in relationship. For the last four months, I have only missed a three or four days of spending time with Him. I am NOT saying this to boast in myself, but to boast in Him. He is changing me. He is teaching me accountability. He is transforming me. He is showing me the power in prayer. He is showing me the power in His word. He is teaching me joy, an peace, and contentment. He is making me new.
I struggle with how to make this real and how to stress the importance of this. There are so many Christian have-to's and sayings and cliches. How do I talk about this truth and reality without bringing on eye-rolls and "uh-huh". How do I truly teach my girls and talk to them about the importance of a quiet time without having it become some kind of cliche to them? How do I truly impress the importance on them? I'm not too sure, really. I think that I make it a priority in my life. I model what I preach. I show them the ways that it makes me a better mom to them and show them how it changes me. I allow Jesus to change me and transform me. I give Him credit in those moments where change happens.
I don't know why I struggle so much with Christian cliches. I don't know why they get under my skin so much. But what I am learning, is that so many of those cliches and things that make me roll my eyes are TRUTH. Even if I don't want to teach my kids a cliche, I need to and want to teach them the TRUTH. I want to teach them how to grow and change and become more like Jesus.
I am constantly amazed at the lessons that I keep "learning" over and over again. I started my relationship with Jesus about 20 years ago (yes, I am old). Spending time with Him daily seems so basic, yet it is a lesson that I keep having to learn over and over again. As I am learning this lesson over again, I am learning about myself to. I am learning that writing is an important part of who I am. It helps me process and grow and connect. It helps me grow closer to Jesus. It brings me joy. For you, it might not be journaling. It might be something else. Find what that thing is. Connect with Jesus EVERY day. He will change you, as he is changing me. He is so faithful.
- Katie
Friday, July 24, 2015
Representing Christ
It was a wonderful time having Doug visit. He is Physicians Assistant I worked with in Phoenix. Having him here was a delight. We were able to spear fish, ride motorcycles, and have a blast working in the hospital. Unfortunately, an event happened to Doug which made me feel very convicted. I am trying to witness to Doug and to be a picture of Christ for him. While I realize that I am not perfect, I hope Doug was able to see an inkling of Christ in me.
He had a mild verbal altercation with another visitor who was also staying in guest housing. I will call this visitor Freddy. Freddy has led many teams here over many years. He is a wonderful man and you can tell that he loves this hospital and the work that is done here. He was baking a casserole in the community kitchen of the guest house. Doug inadvertently turned the oven off while trying to cook his own food on the stove. Doug immediately realized his mistake and went and told Freddy that he had accidentally turned off the oven. Freddy became very upset and roughly address Doug and even insulted Doug. This was Doug's first interaction with Freddy.
Immediately after this, Doug and I went to Fellowship, which is the mission's weekly time of praise and worship. After singing praise songs, Freddy got up and introduced his team and preached a little bit. The look on Doug's face was one of disgust.
My dad used to always say, "there is never so polite a driver as in the church parking lot". I need to realize that my witness is not to other Christians, but an ever-present action of submitting my will to God's. I can't even imagine how many times I have failed to let God be glorified in my life or how many times others have been disgusted when I preach. It was a humbling moment for me to realize how many times I fail to represent Christ. I pray that I can come to see every interaction that I have with every person that I meet as an opportunity to witness and be a witness for Jesus. So often life with Jesus is not about going out to minister or preach and making a difference with those people out there, but it is about loving those and ministering to those who Jesus puts in my path in the small moments in the daily things. Oh that I can be faithful to him in those moments and glorify him there. Dios obra aquí.
- Peter
He had a mild verbal altercation with another visitor who was also staying in guest housing. I will call this visitor Freddy. Freddy has led many teams here over many years. He is a wonderful man and you can tell that he loves this hospital and the work that is done here. He was baking a casserole in the community kitchen of the guest house. Doug inadvertently turned the oven off while trying to cook his own food on the stove. Doug immediately realized his mistake and went and told Freddy that he had accidentally turned off the oven. Freddy became very upset and roughly address Doug and even insulted Doug. This was Doug's first interaction with Freddy.
Immediately after this, Doug and I went to Fellowship, which is the mission's weekly time of praise and worship. After singing praise songs, Freddy got up and introduced his team and preached a little bit. The look on Doug's face was one of disgust.
My dad used to always say, "there is never so polite a driver as in the church parking lot". I need to realize that my witness is not to other Christians, but an ever-present action of submitting my will to God's. I can't even imagine how many times I have failed to let God be glorified in my life or how many times others have been disgusted when I preach. It was a humbling moment for me to realize how many times I fail to represent Christ. I pray that I can come to see every interaction that I have with every person that I meet as an opportunity to witness and be a witness for Jesus. So often life with Jesus is not about going out to minister or preach and making a difference with those people out there, but it is about loving those and ministering to those who Jesus puts in my path in the small moments in the daily things. Oh that I can be faithful to him in those moments and glorify him there. Dios obra aquí.
- Peter
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)