Cleaning House

In a spurt of ambition and "if not now, when?" Dan and I spent the majority of Saturday going through boxes. All the boxes were culled from all the corners of the house. Full boxes, empty boxes, boxes within boxes, the half full boxes, all loaded into our living room. I am never as ready as I "ought" to be to sort or throw, so Dan was particularly helpful in this matter. He created systems. Went through his pittance of boxes and helped sort the neutral things around the edges while I waded through the waters of memory and trinkets. Ever reassuring "We can have a box for things you don't know what to do with yet..." I made good progress. Boxes were combined. Bags thrown away. Until I hit the box I was dreading.

A beat up, taped shut shoe box. Black lid, white base. Full of every note, letter, postcard I'd managed to keep from Junior High on. My nemesis box. Every time I've tried to throw things away, or sort things out I've left the box as it is. I haven't been sure what to do with it. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because the relationships held in those notes have so utterly deteriorated since my freshman year that it's like they never happened if it wasn't for this proof. Maybe I was hoping by holding onto them somehow a thread between that group of friends would still remain. But like any talisman this box began to possess me, instead of the other way around. I couldn't throw it away, the small squares of tucked and folded paper had become greater than the sum of their parts.

So I decided to read them. One last time. And then throw them away. I think I began reading through them searching to figure out what went wrong. A truly frustrating goal due to, like any 8th grader, we didn't date any notes. And in scouring the words and sentences I realized it was a pointless endeavor. I stopped looking for a reason. I skimmed a few more. And I saved a few pieces I wanted to keep. The Clique contract we drafted for a week in the 8th grade. A few notes back and forth about religion. Some mix tapes. My entire senior letter folio. My first love poem. Our "Shower Stories" we had written each other. The rest got tossed and taken out to be recycled.

There is no blame to be found in people growing apart. If I had really wanted to find blame I could have found it. Divergent interests (sedentary versus athletic), non-simultaneous emotional funks that pulled the group apart, me diving headlong into my Evangelical faith not yet willing to question or examine what I was choosing to belong to. But really, who is to blame. Why is it that today I can let go of friendships that have served their place and time, yet I was holding so tightly onto these? They still existed. We still mattered to each other. It all still happened. Those experiences still formed me into who I am today.

A couple of the notes referred to keeping them, reading them again in 10 or 12 years. Laughing at what we were going through. And there I was. Doing just that. And I couldn't help but laugh at the irony and then want to cry at the reality. I don't make it a practice to live in the past, and I didn't appreciate the vestige of friendships past having such a hold on me. So I cleaned house. Said goodbye to the ghosts. Kept what was important and moved on. This life is too full, too beautiful and colorful for me to be blinded by the past.

Life is not easy right now.
I wouldn't even make a corollary statement such as:
"But at least it's good."
Parts of it are good.
Staying up until 2a with a great team of volunteers and friends is good.
Confirmation is good (and tiring).
Time with family is good.
Caroling in the neighborhood with church is good.
As of midnight, I am done with all of my school assignments.
And that feels really good.

But, but, but.
Grief is never easy, and it never feels good.
The fact that a prayer partner for the kid that needs it most wants out, isn't good.
Bypassing December temperatures is certainly no good.
Feeling disconnected from friends isn't good.
And that damn grief and anxiety that tinges everything isn't good.

But, but, but...
We are still here
HE is still here
And so we are.
Breathing. Living through it.
Finding that there is time aplenty for what is most important.
And learning how to make that time.
That is my advent lesson for the year.
There is time. Just keep breathing.
There is time to be present
There is time for kind words and kisses and hugs
There is time for those who know to make it
There is time for those who know how to look for it.
Today, at least, there is still time.
And so we are.
And so HE is.
Still.

Christmas Around The World

We were in Salt Lake City, Utah over Thanksgiving break. Having never been there before, the Makosky's graciously revisited Temple Square to show us all the the Mormon's had to offer the viewing public (because you know, some things the public just isn't allowed to see. Like the fortress, whoops, I mean temple. The temple. Anyway, ahem.)

In their visitor's center what was most interesting was that on the main floor (aka, the one everyone sees right away) there were wall murals depicting the Bible and the life of Christ. All Christian-kosher. But you go downstairs....and the murals start to be less Christian-kosher, and more like a big "what in the world...?"

Anyway. I digress. One thing they got right that was pretty cool were the various nativity displays all around Temple Square. A smattering of pictures we took of the different nativities can be found below. Enjoy...

let it settle in

Here's a thought to mull over. Sometimes you read (or say) these platitudes, knowing they're right, but not feeling that they're true. Sometimes we need to mull over the platitudes and let them settle into our DNA. Let them become part of the core of who we are and what we do.

So, let it settle in and remain with you this week.
God rejoices with us.

God rejoices WITH us. So when I smile...maybe that means that God smiles too. And THAT is a God I can get behind.

(Except not literally. Metaphysical reasons.)

(I had a line in there, originally, about how that means that God weeps with us too. But...truthfully, I'm not going there tonight. Because he does, and it's good...but tonight - let's rejoice. You won't be alone.)

(Yeah, I went there and said that).

Get Up and Walk Around

Sometimes we get rooted in monotony.
Sometimes it hurts to look at the lives of the people we minister to.
Sometimes we are uncreative.
Sometimes it seems like we are just repeating ourselves.
Sometimes it seems like no one is listening.
Sometimes we aren't listening.
Sometimes we get stuck.
Sometimes we become complacent.
Sometimes we end up being okay with the status quo and forget about why we do what we do.

Sometimes we need to get out of bed and walk around.
Take a walk today, around your neighborhood, your ministry areas, around what energizes you. Take a wide-eyed look at the signs of the Holy Spirit around you. Listen to some good music, turn off Facebook and get up. Walk around. Get the blood moving. Pray. Buckle down.

As the husband reminded me this morning, the easiest way to wake up starts with getting out of bed and walking around.

So I groaned. I got out of bed. And I woke up.
Sometimes we just need to get moving.

10-Day Chip Proof? 12 hours in and I think not. >:(

Putting First Things First

"You can't know that! You don't have kids!"
Well, no I don't...you 15 year old. But then again, neither do you. I bit my tongue and didn't actually say what I was thinking. We had been talking about priorities, and now I had 4 teenagers looking at my agape. All I had said was that when it came to priorities, for me my relationship with God came first, then with my husband and then with my kids. Youth pastor that I am, I was relieved that the debate didn't come from God being first (Yes! Clearly I've been teaching them SOMETHING!) but the audacity that I wouldn't put my kids first before the husband...well, that was anathama to them.

So here's the thing. The husband comes first. People put their kids first and they forget who they are, who they married and lose sight of the relationship. I don't want to come out of a kid-coma 18+ years down the line and realize that I don't recognize the man I married. The need to grow WITH someone is so important in maintaining a marriage or relationship...in fact it's why friendships and relationships fail. Also, a fine distinction that I needed to make was that the kids would never be neglected. Food would be on the table, shelter always provided, affirmation, love and attention would be present abundant as I was able. But here's the thing -- I gave my word to the husband. I promised for better or worse, in sickness and health, kids or no kids (damn, I'd like to retroactively add that into the vows!) I vowed to give him my best. And if hubs and I are working, together, to put the health of our relationship first, then the kids get our best, get a stable and loving household, as well as a good understanding of the importance of working on a relationship (bonus!).

I can say these things, two years and change into a marriage with no kids to speak of (nor on the immediate horizon). I may come back here in 15 years and recant everything I've said. I admit I am naive and innocent and altogether optimistic about our ability to balance relationships. I just know that I've seen marriages crumble with kids (or fame, or self) gets put first and I know that I've seen marriages succeed when the marriage is worked on, taken time for and nurtured. And I'd like to fall into the category of the latter.

Bonus: I left the 4 girls at peace with my decision. They saw it would ultimately be best for the kids and conceded...that those might be priorities that they could get behind.

dark chocolate

I have been thinking about the complexities of love lately. Not in the endearingly romantic “we love each other but we can’t be with each other!” way, nor in the “OMG! He’s a beautiful vampire and I can’t believe he’d ever love me!” way either. I’ve been thinking in terms of the complexities of navigating everyday life with another human being who I love and respect.

I was planning a lesson for the youth group about forgiveness. Navigating the murky waters of various stages of development but using the parable of the Lost Son for both groups. With the junior highers I was planning on talking about the differences between the father and the older brother and asking them which one of them represented a forgiving God. However, the senior highers I was taking a different track. I was thinking in terms of the son, and the journey that the son had to take to realize that he needed forgiveness and the need for all of us to realize that we are the youngest son, we need to be forgiven. And we are often stopped from seeking that forgiveness because we are afraid. We are afraid of the consequences, we are afraid of what lies on the other side of forgiveness and we are afraid of honesty.

I was going to lead into 1 John about how God is love and how that perfect love casts out fear and even as we face the consequences or what comes in our lives on the other side of forgiveness (are we afraid of space? Of emptiness? I know that I sometimes am) that there is a complex love that will carry us through. Which brought me to Splenda. I had heard somewhere (and where was that? That’s a secret I’ll never tell. xoxo.) that Splenda is about 98% nothing and about 2% sweetness to the nth degree. We don’t want Splenda love in our lives. If God’s love was Splenda it would be rainbows, sunshines, neon colors and CareBear Stares around the clock. Too sweet, too artificial, too intense. Instead, we need a love in our lives that is more complex, more able to handle the nuances of humanity (because, in fact, it is the source of humanity).

We need a dark-chocolate kind of love. Complex. Satisfying. Good for your heart. We need a love that confronts us with our crap, forgives and steadfastly remains on as the fallout and consequences of our actions (both good and bad) unfold. Splenda doesn’t stick around and it’s lasting effects have yet to be tested (I am aware that I am stretching the metaphor here).

So, as I sat in my comfy chair, in one of my new favorite spots, I was contemplating my current partnership. The more we walk through life together, the more the complexities show themselves. Not only is he wonderful, he is exasperating. As much as I learn more about him, the more I realized he is deeper than I anticipated…and the more I find myself being stretched into being an equally honest partner. Complexities aren’t easy, but they are good. And for a fleeting moment, I realized that what I was going to be teaching needed to be true in my life as well. Any concerns about how we exasperate each other shriveled up at the idea that I was thinking about a Splenda-level love.

The more I learn about myself, the more I discover how afraid I am. The more I continue to come back to the need for honest, for authenticity and for longevity. I am tired of fear, tired of running, tired of dissatisfaction. I am left with the question “what are you so afraid of, girl?” The more I uncover these layers of myself, the more I am thankful for my God and my partner for one will sustain and the other will continue to grow with me. I am blessed.

Thoughts at the three-year mark

I've had lots of thoughts lately. I started my job and my relationship with Dan on the same day (because I bring these things on myself, of course). And, having hit the three year mark, it's been interesting to look back and see some of the changes and reflect on where I am today, versus three years ago.

Some changes are obvious and sweeping. Our relationship grew fast and moved fast once we acknowledged it. Within my first year we were engaged, within 14 months we were married. Now we are closing in on two years. I am thankful for the sounding board, stability and companionship that Dan's brought to my life and ministry. He is these things and so much more, he is funny and silly and has a song for every occasion. We are both still learning, learning how to be in a relationship with each other, how to treat one another better and love more fully. We have a lot to learn, but I am thankful for the lessons we have under our belts so far.

Other changes are obvious, but less sweeping. We added cats, added a larger television, upgraded some technology and storage systems. We have rearranged rooms, closets and expectations. The cats have brought some gradual extra responsibilities and expenses, but we are - by and large - pleased we asked for forgiveness instead of waiting another six months (or more) for permission.

And some changes...some changes have been profound and internal. I am less exhausted by the youth. One of the clearest signs that I had that I was an introvert was coming home the first two months from youth group and collapsing on the couch for 20 minutes before I could process, much less talk or do anything. So many new people, so many high energy kids, so engaging and exciting, but until I became acclimated to it, so exhausting for this introvert.

I am less scared, less anxious. I know, to some extent, what to anticipate and what questions to plan for. My stomach is no longer in knots at the prospect of serving communion or getting a stage whisper to "talk into the mic". I adjust, move on, and know that I am still learning, still trying to figure out how to juggle so many balls at one time. I used to look out of the window in curiosity to see who was already at work. Then, I looked out of the windows to make sure I wasn't the last one in. Now, well I look a lot less. And rarely is it with that knot of anxiety in my stomach. I can stand up for what I believe to be right in my programming, I know what I won't budge on (release forms, , seatbelts and no playing red tower are at the top of the list). And I have banked my credibility and trustworthyness.

And, I have learned and realized, that the changes that matter most are the ones that take three years to develop. A youth ministry that is a growing community of wacky teens who seem to love each other. A team of volunteers committed to working together. Stability. Routine. Reliability. Trust. Appropriate intimacy and space to speak truth. My work is far from done, but at this point in the journey I can appreciate where we are and where we have yet to go. Every day is a new journey, a new chance to succeed/fail/carry on. The biggest changes, the best changes, the transformative changes are the ones that need room to grow and time to develop. Changes happen in me, in ministry and in us all -- if we open our eyes to see them.

oh, I get it now

Jon Gosselin, if this is your "come hither" look...then I get it. And I don't blame Kate.






















Actually, I still don't get it, but it's like getting a "5" in the sun-stare...I just can't stop looking on in horror. I'm going to do my best to continue on about my business and pretend I never saw this. Okay go.

ht: dlisted for picture

• 10-day forecast suggests that we won't get out of the 70's. This makes me happy. I love this early autumn. However a few of the trees up north are already beginning to turn. This is crazy. Crazy amazing.
• The windows in our bedroom are open and it will be nice and cool/cold when I finally slip inbetween our clean sheets. Of course I've been procrastinating on my paper so that glorious moment may indeed be a long time coming.
• I'm currently holed up at my kitchen table, hoodie sweatshirt helping my tunnel vision and and Wilco playing in my earbuds. This exegesis paper is in my sights...even with the muddy instructions. I have yet to have an exegesis paper due that gets aligned in the same way as any of mine did in undergrad. I suppose it is okay, it strengthens my writing skills and ability to think critically. Although I spent so much time working on that technique thinking it would serve me well in life. Not to be, apparently.
• Made some homemade salsa today. It's nothing spectacular, but a great way to use up the remaining tomatoes from our CSA. Pretty tasty but not perfect.
• We are going to the fair this week. Yay for an abundance of food we shouldn't eat!
• Okay, no more procrastinating. I've got to finish this paper up.
  

(500) Days of Summer

It's been a busy weekend. Between draft orders, Rob Bell (yes mom, I saw him.) and seeing (500) Days of Summer...well, I've been busy with Dan out of town.

And, as I wait for my iMovie to load and me to begin attempting to email and save it so that I can bring it with me to church tomorrow, I was struck by one scene in particular from the film. All of (500) is this achingly honest romantic dramadie, packaged with a neat little soundtrack to find it's home in any hipsters or yuppie's film collection. The non-linear film follows the length, demise, and mutual rebuilding of a relationship between two characters. After a breakup, and time apart, the two find themselves at a wedding. Dancing and drinking ensues. Shortly thereafter he (still in love with her, despite the breakup) and her (no longer interested in a relationship) end up back on the train, heading back home. Friendship rekindled, feelings that he had been beginning to put aside all aflame. Her head sleeping on his shoulder. And him, not wanting to move, to wreck the moment of what was...knowing that when the ride ends, when she awakes the illusion is shattered.

The fear that reality is so difficult, so painful, to deal with in that moment that you would rather let the illusion of intimacy, connection and relationship continue. Just for a minute. Exquisite agony. I've been there. Many of us have been there. And, in that moment, we as a theater were connected in that pain and longing. The tears you want to weep with joy (at something rekindled) and heartbreak (knowing it's fleeting).

Open Letter to Project Runway All-Stars

Dear Jeffery,
A porn-stache? Really? I guess you can rock the 70's porn-star look....if you must. Oh, and an attitude to match? Swell.

Under duress,
Kate
----------
Dear Daniel Vosovic,
You are looking great with the shorter hair. I'm so glad you're back. That's all.

Adoringly,
Kate
----------
Dear Uli,
I want to see prints. PRINTS. AND DRESSES. Amen sister friend. Bring. It.

Woot,
Kate
----------
Dear Tim Gunn,
You encourage me to "make it work" on a daily basis. You = fabulous.

:)
Kate

Open Letter

Dear Tom, Padma and Gail:

I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you all. Gael Greene and crazy hat collection doesn't have anything on you. I'm ready for the season -- all the tattoos, crazy scarf guy and sexist pig. Thanks.

Smooches,
Kate

PS -- thank you for sending creepy earlobe girl home. These odd things look all the more scarier on our large television.

Open Letter

Dear Jon Gosselin,

I want to preface this letter by reminding you that I used to be on your team. I saw Kate emmasculate you, belittle you, hit you ("lovingly"), move away from you on your "uncomfortable" couch and generally shrivel up and die whenever you opened your mouth or, as we infamously saw, breathed too loudly. So, know that I came here today from a former position of being "team-jon."

You were great with the kids, gave little preferential treatment, had family still involved in your lives (all of that devotion to your mother...but I digress) and you seemed to enjoy the dogs -- all signs that you were the healthier of the two parents. You were the one (remember?) who wanted to stay out of the spotlight, and seemed unsure of this new-found celeb-reality. You even said that you were afraid what your kids would find when they googled you one day.

Which is why I don't appreciate how you've played me (and the 3 million other viewers...although by Monday you may be down to 2.7 million...the numbers keep dropping). You say that you don't want to be filmed -- so you are reportedly pitching the "Divorced Dad" reality show with Michael Lohan. (C'mon Jon, look at his kids. Look at your kids. Do you really want 8 Lindsay Lohans running around the compound? Think about it.) You say that you want out of the spotlight, so you host the Wet Republic party this weekend? You are afraid of what your kids will find when they google you, so you bed women who freely sell their stories to online and print tabloids? Slap a gag order on those hussies. You said that you wanted to find yourself, to figure out who you were....you had a sense that you lost that. Jon, that generally calls for introspection, a return to values and some time alone or with those with your best interests at heart. Not TLC producers, women into "fixing" you or having your fleeting "fame" "fix" them.

And perhaps worst of all, you're doing it for the kids. To which I must say, what did they do to deserve this? They may have an attentive and loving dad present when they are awake during your custody hours (note: providing custody is not synonymous with flirting with the babysitter) but your actions and attitude during their sleeping hours and how you behave when you are "off camera" will catch up with you and with them.

And that's the thing, Jon. It all comes to light in the end. Your marriage facade came to light faster than you expected. Your relationships came to light. It will all come to light. And your behavior is making Kate look good by comparison (I know, I'm shocked too). And, if that's the point -- then that will come out in the end as well. You don't have to answer to me, but someday you will have to answer to your kids. So, do as I am doing (and have been doing since you returned from hiatus) -- just say no.

Sincerely,
Kate
(not your soon-to-be ex-wife)
(not your one night stand)
(just, like your children, an innocent bystander)

Tonight You Get...Micellanea

• So many webpages I log into these days end with /home. Does this say anything meaningful about our society's current unrootedness and inward desire to find a home, place, space to be known? Probably not, but it floated through my head.
• If I had unlimited funds, I would probably spend my time traveling, eating and going to movies. Especially when I know that Julie and Julia, 500 Days of Summer, Paper Heart and District 9 are all out in theaters. We'll get them on Netflix and it will be good, but there is something about connecting with the collective subconscious during story-telling in movie theaters that makes it an experience...rather than mere entertainment. I saw a lot of entertainment in high school and college.
  
• My body is exhausted. Trolling around the twin cities in the hot sun with junior highers does that to a body. My mind, however, is loving my textbook for my gospels class and (as much as I try to compartmentalize) I am awash with dreams for the fall. I meant to go to bed 30 minutes ago and got distracted. Now, I am sending myself to sleep with my journal to pin down the final strains of thought clouds and to hopefully get a good 7.5 hours before church and Rock the River tomorrow. But first...
• I got hugged by a frog. The 13 year old me would have LOVED this.

ministry reflections: teamness

Sometimes what I miss most about Hillcrest is the sense of play.
Being in a medium to large(ish) church affords the opportunity for multiple members of a youth ministry team and interns. A community of leaders, a place to be a part of, peers along with you on the journey. Being in a smaller church affords increased opportunities for responsibility, leadership and visioning. I do more than youth ministry, I am stretched and growing in ways I didn't imagine I would be those hot, humid summers at Hillcrest.

Some days, many days, I am so thankful and blessed by my ministry here at FCC. Thankful to be a part of something bigger than myself on the East Side...awed and wonderfulled by everything. Some days, though...I miss the play, the fun, the camaraderie of the team. Some days, like today, I am lonely in my office all by myself. Not a loneliness that more ministry time with kids or popped by conversations in the offices of my coworkers can really staunch.

Had I never had that, would I still have come here? Had I never had that, that whetting of that relational side of teamness, would I be ministering to youth? I can't say. I can't say, "I wish I had known then that it would be lonely in this way..." I can't say and I don't know.

What I do know is that the teamness of my past has shaped me to be the person I am today. That difficulties such as this are nothing to complain about in ministry. I know that these feelings of loneliness come in stages. And all I can do is work hard, pray and love. That two options are before me -- grow the youth ministry to a size where I am forced to hire on more staff or eventually I will move on from this position. Not move on because of this factor, but the likelihood of staying at this place FOREVER and EVER is crazy. These days where I miss people my age and people passionate about the same subset of ministry as me are days to get through. Tomorrow brings miracles and dreams of it's own.

Victoria Drive

It had rained while I was in the movie theater. I emerged, blinking, into a mild, clear summers evening. Inhaling deeply for the first time in what seemed like days, I decided a walk was in order. Experiencing the single life, albeit thankfully briefly, this weekend, I engaged my desire for spontaneity and detoured to Central Park for a walk. A beyond that...a drive.

When you rush through life, driving from one appointment to another, you forget what a joy it can be to drive. And as I rolled through the Rosevillan suburbia, the aroma of freshly cut grass and rain on lakes wafted through the windows. I decided to explore, and took a rode that I recognized but did not know it's end point. I took a familiar rode that would take me to where I wanted to go...even though the journey there was unfamiliar.

Which, while a true story, seems to be an apt metaphor for my life. I'm going down a familiar path, towards a desired destination...the journey to get there is somewhat uncertain. No huge complaints, no big uncertainties...but certainly unknown territory. And for the moment, I'm going to have to be okay with that. There is joy in the journey, just as there is pain, there is heartache, there are miracles and surprises. But it is in the journey, indeed.

in need of recipes

Anyone have any good Bok Choy recipes? We just got a bunch of it in our CSA today and I've never cooked or prepared anything with it..ever! I'm excited to try it out! Anything good to try out, we'd love to try.

I’ve got a number of posts percolating in my head. But, as often happens, the ideas percolate and then deflate when it comes time to put fingers to keys and make it “real.” As real as words saved on a server hanging out in cyberspace can be. Pretty darn real.

Anyway. As a way to update, Dan and I made a significant purchase this weekend. Not a house, not an iPhone (sadly) nor was it a television set (although that is perhaps in the queue next). No no no, we invested in some furniture:

Imagine this without the curved U tier third from the bottom and you have the general idea. It’s monstrous. It’s hideous. It’s a beige monolithic, behemoth in our living room. And the cats love it. They love being at around our eye level when we walk into the room, Bean loves hiding in the bottom nook, and they both love having something tall enough (finally) to scratch on.

I know this because they have stopped scratching the carpet. Which, let’s be honest, was the driving force behind the purchase of this. I am hoping that this also starts to cut down on some of the anxiety that Ender has when we have company over and all of “his” normal spots are taken by people and feet. This furniture will not be taken over, and shall hopefully give him some peace of mind. We’ll find out this weekend when Roy and Glenna come over and stay the night.

The price causes us to pause. The size of it did too. But the price, I have come to rationalize, is almost nothing. Here’s my reasoning. We chose to adopt cats, not dogs. Lots of reasons, many pros and cons for either choice. But when I get down to it, I have to admit, cats are way more low maintenance than dogs. Significantly fewer walks on leashes, wiping off muddy paws, intentional play time (although they still need that)…and if time=money (which in some cases it does)…we’ve saved up enough to be able to afford the horrible, beige, monolithic monstrosity that now lives in our house. The cats love it, we love that they love it…and dang it, until we have kids – that’s what matters in our household!

Why Do I Do It?

As a piece of Graduation Sunday at church, I preached. I am including a piece of my favorite part of my sermon. The text for the day was Matthew 13:44-46, as a piece of our series on parables, emphasizing "see," "hear," and "do." The premise being that we need to "see" what the Kingdom is made of, "hear" that Kingdom work is difficult as well as joyful, and ultimately "do" the work of the Kingdom -- what you were born to do, and get out of the way to let our youth and fresh wind bring change. I wanted to include a few of my favorite snippets from my sermon. And, I think it answers -- why do I do it? I'm sold out. Below, with the bold emphasis my favorite lines, is an intimate story of when my calling became really real to me this year. Enjoy.
--------------------------
In short, this Kingdom treasure is not always easy, simple or comfortable…it is demanding, it requires the disciple to be engaged and present in order to gain the full value of the Kingdom. And, I agree with Klyne when he states that this is more than an issue dealing with money. In this present age, in this present culture, often money isn’t our sticking point. According to www.theglobalrichlist.com -- based on my yearly salary I am the 260,000,000 richest person in the world – a figure that puts me in the top 4.33% of the world. Who am I to complain about money? We do not live in a culture, even considering the current economic crisis, where “selling everything” for a treasure is either risky enough or a compelling parallel to draw. Instead, as I have reflected on it – the cost of Kingdom living for a disciple begins with us embracing a lifestyle of intentionality and difficulty.

This chosen way of life is something I have become familiar with. Sometime early this spring, at around 8:45 on a Wednesday evening I found myself in tears on my living room floor – questioning my call and ability to lead the youth ministry. To put it mildly, the evening program had not gone well. As a disclaimer, any given Wednesday night in the youth ministry there is a fair amount of organized chaos intentionally "programmed" in. And in the midst of “programming” those unplanned and unprogrammed human factors of minor meltdowns, relationship drama, friendships solidifying, souls being bared, etc. factor in. And on this night, it was possible that these human factors gelled with a game that didn’t work out or my talk didn’t connect or a small group was especially difficult…it came down to being not any one incident, or any one youth or any one anything…just a perfect storm of youth ministry that pushed me to a breaking point.

Thinking this over, I can’t remember the specifics, only that I had this sense that I was looking at myself through the wrong end of a telescope. The world was very very big, and there I was in the center, all together too small. Hear this – sometimes Kingdom living is the sweetest thing in the world. It’s the youth who just started showing up and is eager to tell you how he heard God speaking to him. Or it’s the tender safety of a small group where girls can be open and honest in front of each other and share their struggles without fear of it being gossiped about or used against them. It’s seeing our youth lead worship, serve whole heartedly selling rolls or on a mission trip, or being creative in silly skits. And sometimes, as I was reminded on that night, Kingdom living is heartbreaking, humbling and petrifying. Through some wise words of my husband, I was able to pick myself up off the floor and face another day. And through the work of God I spent the next few weeks being awed time and again by the Kingdom work being done in the youth ministry and through the members of this congregation.

As I was speaking to one of the youth mentors in a year-end review this past week, the conversation turned to when you know it is time to transition out of a stage of ministry and I found myself relating this story. As I have thought and re-thought it through since then, I have come to the conclusion that I made it through that difficult night, and other ups and downs of working with teenagers, because the value I have ascribed to doing this Kingdom work that I have been called to is greater than the personal cost to myself and my life. And, consequently, to not be a part of the work that is being done here on the East Side through this body of believers, would be more heartbreaking, more devastating, than that night was this spring. I’ve sold out to the Kingdom for a life that is not always easy but is ultimately glorifying to God.
---------------------------------
Grace and Peace,
Kate

Kind of an amazing day

Can't you see the joy?















The weekend that was:
Friday finishes up class work for the quarter.
Saturday sleep in, hiking around Eden Prairie and brats on the grill
Sunday graduation (hint: they're the ones in the red gowns).

Sounds overheard in my neighborhood today:
ducks quacking (in my yard)
pennywhistle music
sirens
dogs barking
dumpster diving

5 Minute Ice Cream

Dan found a recipe online for 5 minute ice cream. In the interest of this being healthy, we tried it. Although, I'd like to say -- it is NOT healthy. There is 2/3 c. of cream and 1/2 c. of sugar in this bad boy. I will amend that statement by saying it is healthy in that the ingredients are frozen fruit, cream, sugar and vanilla extract. No 14 syllable compounds or high fructose corn syrup in here. So, at least one form of healthy, if we stretch what healthy means.

Did you want to see the run down how it was made? Ch-ch-ch-check it out!

We introduce the ingredients (listed above) here. It's 2 lbs. of frozen strawberries, although any form of frozen fruit would work.






















I like to introduce the hardware to the ingredients.





















And then everything gets mixed together like so:

















And you blend until it looks like ice cream. The original directions suggest using a blender or food processor. However, our blender leave huge chunks. So, I used the hand-held so I can control the fruit chunks.







When you're done it looks like this. And it's delicious. The problem, of course, is that now I'm only 5 minutes away from ice cream. All the time. :)

Why Did The Duck Cross The Road?

.
To get to our bird feeders. Obviously.

Check out our little friends who have been visiting us off and on this week. They're great at dodging traffic! Although, I haven't seen the male around with the female the past few days. I gave her a pep talk on Friday along the lines of "it's okay, you can make it on your own. You're a STRONG STRONG duck!" I realized I was making too much of the duckies. But they are just so sweet to come visit us.

Marathon Sprint -- and a call to delurk

Marathon sprint. Pick up the pace, keep it going for 26.2 miles. Which, consequently, is a good description for my last 26.2 days as of this Sunday evening. In a month of what has been confessed across the board at work to be "unintentional, completely avoidable chaos" (okay, it's not a quote but it's a good summation) I'm drawing to the close.
-Palm Sunday and the week leading up to it****
-Holy Week
-East Sunday
-Klyne Snodgrass weekend
-Vacation in Kansas City
-135th birthday
-Confirmation Week leading up to
-Confirmation Weekend
-Midterm test my OT class (Sunday night).
-..Plus my birthday and at least two others'

Culminating in a youth pastor's retreat at Adventurous Christians in the Boundary Waters from Monday to Wednesday AM. I'll be one of three women, and the time is more or less whatever I want to make of it. And the thing is, I realized tonight, I'm not sure what this weekend is going to bring. It's a completely crazy and dumb time to be taking it -- but it's the only time to take it either...I'm gearing up for another marathon sprint (but in a youth-ministry sense more than an entire-church-plus-youth-ministry-sense...so it's better). I don't want to crash and burn but I want to use the time effectively.

My goals for the weekend:
-Rest
-Write
-Relax
-Read (youth min books I've been putting off reading)
-Strategically plan
-Read (for fun, I got a bunch of new books recently I'm wanting to dig in to).

But really, I'm not sure what sort of a let down this marathon sprint will bring in the wake of 48 hours of spiritual rejuvination and bodily rest and emotional recharging. So, I'm asking for input. What should I be sure to do over these 48 hours? Sauna? Spend some time in silence? Read? Journal? Laugh better and bigger? Commiserate over the hardships of ministry? It's a call to de-lurk and to comment (Mom!) what should I do (or not do -- other than put too many expectations on my weekend or ask for advice in this way...) and I'll take a look and maybe choose one or more if the mood suits.

--Kate

****I do want to say, it's all be swell stuff. Truly top shelf. I'm glad that we did all of it -- I just wish that some of it was more spaced out. Alas, it was not to be this year.

Just another sleepy Sunday

Lately I feel like it takes so.much.effort. to form a complete thought. So we'll see how this goes.

Back from a brief vacation at the parent's house. Unseasonably warm, humid weather. Sunny days all around. Adventures. Felt like a tourist and like I was returning home. Which we were. I try to bring one or two boxes back with me when I come home from Kansas. This one is full of my play jewelry from when I was a kid, a box of notes from middle school and high school, votive candles that are begging to be melted down by Dan, and my CHIC decision card from 9 years ago (wow, 9 years doesn't sound too long ago. how things have changed.)

A few things I've brought back to remind me who I m, why I am where I am. A few things I've brought back to remind me of who I have left behind, who have left me behind. A few things to remind me that I can't go back, and I don't want to. 25 years of collected items. Mostly still in boxes. What to do with my baggage? I don't know...every time I go through boxes I throw more things away, give more things away, let more baggage fall away. But I'm not ready to let it all go yet...and I'm trying to be okay with that.

This year of being solidly mid-20s (no further forward than I am back) I'm not sure what the year will bring. Changes, adjustments, concessions and triumphs. Trying not to make too much or too little of it. Just taking it as it comes.

Had a sweet two days in a row off with Dan. Some sleeping in (9a! Guilt free! What a treat!) on Friday, followed by lunch with a gift card at the Good Earth and then a trip to Como Zoo to see some baby monkeys.

Today we ran some surprise errands and saw "Sunshine Cleaning" with some gift cards. Seriously, gift cards are such a treat. Of the five previews I definitively want to see three of the movies. Judged solely (okay, NOT solely but my first impression was based on) their opening songs. I just made some deviled eggs for tomorrow.

I'm working through some tough realizations about myself and how I equate work. I'm working on a quilt. Life is busy...but I think it's good.

"Keep your head above water but don't forget to breathe..."--Alexi Murdoch

M.O.V.E. 2009

This past weekend, 10 of our senior high students joined with nearly 400 other Covenant youth in M.O.V.E., an annual urban service weekend our demonination's conference puts on in Minneapolis. Mission, Outreach, Venture, Encounter certainly sums up a weekend of sleeping on hard floors, amazing worship, hands on poverty simulations. It was invigorating to see our youth wrestle with the idea of doing "enough," future calls to ministry and open their worldview up a bit more. All in all, I'm regularly impressed by how willing our youth are to engage their community and hearts in service -- they willingly engage others all the time. However, seeing them not have that human contact and wrestle with what that meant for their time was good to see. It reminded me how we are all works in progress, and what an honor it is to engage in that journey with others.

The event was written up (and I was namechecked, along with another leader) on the Covenant's newswire, and can be found here: http://www.covchurch.org/cov/news/item6980

Ender At Two Years

And so with that, Ender the cat turned two years old. His day came, his day went. He saw snow fall on the ground, fall out of the bare trees in alarming tufts, the ground turn from a white blanket of snow to a muddy, grassy yard. He slept like a whale, burrowed under blankets and ate some food. A brief retrospective of his past two years seemed an appropriate way to end the event.

The beginning of a finger-chomping obsession...

His first day home with us.

Being left at Dan's apartment for the first time.

Ender doesn't play much with blue bear anymore, he upgraded from the red bear to the blue bear, and now Bean is much more his size and speed.

Ender still loves sleeping in laundry baskets, whether there's clothing in them or not.

At the Larson's in MI...hiding from the dog.

Buddies.

More proof of Ender's odd sleeping habits.

Yes, that's a sock that had a massive hole in it. Yes, he whipped around the house like a super hero in it. Yes, he's the caped feline crusader.

***I would just like to say, I KNOW. I know, I know, I know. Bean is the classic second child who didn't get THEIR OWN photo album. Which is ironic on so many levels. So, never fear. She will get her own back-logged year-old photo montage...I just need to dig out the pictures and it's too dang late. These will HAVE TO DO. And, I know, I know, I know, it's probably not normal to post so many pictures of your CATS, but we don't have kids and they're just so loved and lovable, so that's what you get. I just want to say, I KNOW.****

"Did you learn anything?"

I must have passed Hermeneutics, because I found myself in my first OT501 class tonight: Genesis through Ruth. I typically adore the first day of class -- getting to know my professors, getting my syllabus and the verbal walk through of it...and getting a sense in my head for how the class is going to be. I can get a general idea of these things before class, but it really does take that first session for me to get my bearings.

However, as my professor began to outline the Bible -- basic book groupings, the TANAK, etc. I was taken back to my intro to Bible course. This first class ended up being a great refresher of some of those things that I learned in undergrad. I find myself holding that knowledge in tension -- knowing that I've got a good and solid foundation for my studies at seminary, but also knowing that I can't be cocky because there is a lot that I don't know.

On the other hand, I'm in a Spiritual Formation class -- one that I think will clench for me by the end whether or not Marriage and Family Therapy is a legitimate path for me to consider. It's completely like (in the best possible sense) and completely UNlike (again, in the best possible sense) the spiritual formation class that Yomi's took (so, basically Jess and Dan will know what I mean when I say that this is the anti-Sherry Mortenson formation class).

They placed us in small groups of 4 for the next 9 weeks. And whaddaya know -- I'm in a group with my least.favorite.person.in.the.class. I had to consciously uncross my arms and make sure that I wasn't unconsciously throwing out some hostile body language. You think God's up to something there?

Boundaries part one

I have a few boundaries to keep my life more sane than naught. Hey, a girl's got to have some sort of balance when she lives a stone's throw (literally) from her first and second place (work and other place where I am known...school is quickly becoming my third. There go my hopes and dreams to have a Cheers or Central Perk to call my own. Le sigh, maybe someday.)

Anyway. Boundaries. Part one. I don't check my work email after 8p. Okay, okay, let's be real. Most days it's 8p...some days I get curious and it's more like 10p. But what I've learned about myself is: if I read an email late at night, there's probably no cure for the anxiety it will cause. No one else is reading their email so late at night (well, likely no one who is sending me anxiety-inducing emails, at least), so there's nothing I can do about it. My boundary? If I don't read it, I can't be anxious about it. I can be curious (as I just was this VERY minute) but I'd rather be curious and put it off until tomorrow than wreck a perfectly good bedtime routine and sleepy state with anxiety inducing email that I can do nothin about.

Rambly? Yes. Too much self-disclosure about my fragile psyche that can be wrecked the feather weight of an ambiguous email? Perhaps. Boundaries maintained? Indeed. And goodnight blogland.

Tuesday Cat Blogging

You'll notice that in this picture Ender is looking at my slow cooker (red crockpot) contemplating whether or not he's going to jump on the counter.

It's inevitable that he's going to jump on the counter, because there is ham in the slow cooker. Like the dogs (and father) in "A Christmas Story" were to turkey, Ender is to ham. I think that he'll just lust after it all day, but a part of me wonders if he'll try to knock over the cooker while I'm gone at work just to try and get at it. We will see what happens. Oh, and while we're at it -- here's some more cute pictures of them...




And while this isn't cat blogging, you'll see our table spread for Valentine's day just pre-steak. Yum.

"Mexico" -- Jump Little Children

Despite the half unpacked boxes strewn across the living room, the house seems impossibly big for her. Cooling evening air after a warm, sunny August day on the heals of a day of pouring rain. Damp air mixing with the dry breeze ruffles the flyaways around her face. Does the house seem so big and empty because her possessions seem too few to fill a house (they barely filled half of an apartment!) or because the task of unpacking and finding new niches for everything is so enormous, monumental, permanent? There is one couch facing the hyacinth bushes outside the windows. A hand-me-down end table matches the hand-me-down couch and the hand-me-down everything else. Does it seem so large because none of it seems like it belongs with her yet? Too many hand-me-downs still stinking of former owners. This place is still too much of a house, and not yet a home.

Perhaps it's the delicious unknown in front of her. Not just the job and the future, but him. Her body thrums with anticipation, fear and relief. The questions that have been cowering in corners, wall flowers in her mind too shy in the light of new horizons and possibilities to show their face or make too much of a fuss until now. Questions that, while wallflowers, have been constant companions, keeping her company along the pathways of discovery.

A deep breath of the warm air reminds her that it is not quite yet time for the first dance. There is unpacking and adjusting still to happen. Simple things like breathing and forward motion seem too terribly mundane in the face of this sweet anticipation. But until then, she pushes herself forward, glances toward the street a constant syncopation to the steady rhythm of the music.

God I feel small today
So much spiraling out of my hands
Facts and figures of great leaders at my fingertips
All out of my control.

God I feel insignificant
Like if I just had more time to read
Or if I had a week to sit back and to learn
Soak up more of what I need.

God I know that you're working on me
I haven't felt this uncomfortable in a long time
Like you're asking me to do bigger, better things
And you're breaking me.
Telling me to stand.
Snapping bands.
Loosing chains.
Stand up.
Speak up.
Light.
Salt.

Picture of the Day

Bean kind of loves watching the mouse on my computer screen.
So, she's sitting so still because she's transfixed.

Sigh. This has seemed like the longest week. I suppose that it should after a week and a half off work, but even today on my day off the minutes have just dragged by. I'm not sure what I'm actually waiting for (if anything) but there you go.

Dan surprised me with a date night yesterday. We ate 3-meals worth of food for $20 at Outback Steakhouse (money back rewards put to good use) and we were going to see a movie at AMC, but the one we wanted was no longer showing. Instead we settled in on the couch for a Netflix night. Simple but unexpectedly sweet evening. We had some good conversation over dinner, which usually seems to be the case when we go out to eat.

For those keeping track, I will only say that Dan was finished with his entire plate while I still had 1/4 of my steak and 2/3 of my baked potato left to eat. Good conversation continued and it was nice.

Monday Recap

I surprised myself last week by...Okay, this is funny. Dan taught me how to do doughnuts in the church parking lot last week. And, it was a lot of fun. And a little ridiculous that I'm nearly 25 and have never (intentionally) done this before.

This weekend I...felt busy. The family left early Friday morning. Dan and I spent the afternoon and evening with friends over at his brother's house. Saturday found us on a double date at the MN Zoo where we took in the grizzly bear exhibit and saw some super cute otters playing around. We had my staff Christmas party after that...where we are always the youngest members, other than the senior high custodians. Sunday was back to work for me with church that morning. We went shoe shopping with Dan, Matt and Alicia and returned a Christmas present (it was a multiple) and now I have money to spend at Borders. :) The evening was spent relaxing and watching a new-to-us series called Dead Like Me on our Netflix stream. We'll see how much we watch but for the moment, the premise is keeping us interested.

This week I...am back to the grind. Class tonight, meetings tomorrow, programming on Wednesday, a youth pastor's training time, and a conference with my volunteer staff on Saturday. It should be a good, engaging week.

Right now I am...
Listening to...Songs from Jacob's Well, Volumes 1 & 11: "Even The Darkness Will Not Be Dark To You" by Mike Crawford and his Secret Siblings. I'm loving it. And may post a more complete review later.
Working on...I have a lot of meetings on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I'm getting ready to start work on Wednesday night, so I can concentrate tomorrow. We are starting a four-week series on "Can You Hear Me Now?" Ways that God has given us to communicate with him. This week's topic, prayer, is the only one that I am teaching. The next three will be taught by our student leaders (with me assisting them as they ask me to) on other spiritual disciplines.
Stressed about...not too much today, really. I'm a little stressed about school, with the start of a new quarter. But, really, I thought that I would be stressed yesterday morning but it's pretty amazing how the get-ready-for-church Sunday morning routine sticks with you and becomes less stressful each week.
Blessed by...my relationship with my Senior Pastor being one that is easier than it was, and encouraging to work with a strong woman in a leadership role.

Final Randomocity...good TV starts back up this week. Scrubs is back on Tuesday! :)