kpinion

Classic Katie

2009-06-02T15:02:00.003-05:00

So I haven't posted in a while and I thought to break up the long silence I'd let you in on what I like to refer to as "Classic Katie Moments."

These can take two forms:
1. Some sort of clumsy act in which I:

fall down
trip
break something
hurt myself
hurt someone else by my falling
or any combination of the above

2. Say something out loud that hasn't been fully thought out

This story falls into category #2. So here we go . . .

A few weeks ago while hanging out with a group of friends, one of the guys (a co-worker) commented on our friend's son and how he was eating his dinner in only his diaper. He said something along the lines of that he wished he could eat all his meals the same way. Another guy (who I don't know so well) pipes in saying he likes that idea too.

And this is when the Classic Katie Moment hit. I ever so innocently looked at both these guys and said "See now my mind is picturing you two in your boxers . . ." A small moment of silenced followed and then I realized what I said, as did everyone else. Laughter ensued. Innocent? Yes. Funny for everyone else? Of course. Classic Katie Moment? Always.

The other Mary

2009-04-13T10:23:00.003-05:00

On Sunday, our kids ministry taught what every other kids ministry across the world covered, the resurrection of Christ. I'm pretty confident in saying it was "the lesson" of the day. As I led the kids through a review game over our Bible story, a question was asked, "Who came to visit the tomb?" The answer was of course, "Mary Magdalene and the other Mary." I made a sarcastic crack (that I'm pretty sure only the adult leaders overheard) about feeling sorry for the other Mary because she was the second string Mary.

Let's admit that if your name is Mary, you get a pretty high profile spot in the lineup of women in the Bible. You have Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalen, Mary of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus fame, and then there's the other Mary(s). These women were privy to the greatest story ever told and each held a front row seat for different parts of the life of Christ. And then on the final days of Christ's life on earth, they gathered to witness the most unexpected ending to a story they were all part of.

In Christ, each of these women had found a friend, a teacher, a lord, a hope for a future that was almost forgotten, a purpose, an acceptance, a love greater than they had ever known, and a changing self that only comes in the presence of the Savior. But on that last day, they stood and watched as all hope seemed to fade away and the man they had known, had followed, and had learned from, the man in which they placed their hope, trust, and faith, was captured, tried, and sentenced to what would be an unimagined end in their minds. These women gathered at the cross anguished, broken hearted, and in pain to watch their lord suffer death.

I can only imagine the grief and questioning they experienced on that hill. I wonder if they even thought of the promises he had made, the claim to be the Christ, or where they so dispondent from the sight of the physical pain he was subjected to? Could they look past the absolute hurt at watching their friend, maybe the only one who had seen past the muck of their sin to the beauty of life in his love, succumb to the torture and death so wrongly thrust upon him? Were they even thinking of the claims he had made to be the Son of God, of his prediction of his death? Or was the grief so deep and penetrating that hope was lost?

These women, who had experienced life with Christ, were now witnessing his death and I wonder if they thought their own new life might die with him. There is a place where grief is so deep, so overwheming that hope is lost to the shadows and I think these Marys might have been in that place. There are days where the promise of a new dawn, a new day are lost to the darkness of the moment; where we are blinded by the pain to even be able to picture anything else. Sometimes these days come like the one these women experienced, filled with death or loss of hope and sometimes they are days where we just wonder if tomorrow will bring something better than today.

And then that day ended with such overwhelming grief as the women watched Jesus gasp his last breath; taken down from the cross broken, battered and lifeless; wrapped in cloth and rushed to a tomb that was not his own; then experienced the finality of the stone being rolled over the cave marking the end to a life they had joined in. I imagine that was the day that hope died for them too. And so when the Marys returned to the tomb, to show one last act of love and kindness for a man who had given them so much more, they were so filled with grief that the empty tomb held no hope for them but only sorrow.

But that day the great difference between eyes that are human and eyes that are eternal was shown. For they saw a tomb that was robbed and the angel saw a tomb that was conquered. A new day brought with it a long ago promised new reality, one that had banished the sting of death and brought with it a hope that was finally realized. Death had not won on this day, grief and sorrow would not be victorious. And the story these women had participated in had not ended with a man's death on a cross but found its fulfillment with an empty tomb. A new dawn had come, a new day was here, and hope had survived its greatest test.

So how often are we the other Mary? Maybe it's the story of our own lives, where grief and harship seem to triumph over hope, or maybe it's the lives of those we call friends, who we share life with, that go through days where tomorrow doesn't seem possible, where hope if questionable. How will we stand beside them as they struggle through their own trials? Will we believe that hope and promise will somehow overcome the darkness of today? And even if the ending of their story doesn't come out the way we want it, will be rejoice that God has a plan, a wonderous, perfect plan that is always good and always bringing Him glory?

The Marys were part of a story that was overwhelming with its joy and grief. But maybe the point is that they were part of the story, they stayed until the end, whatever it might be.

Prejudice vs. Discernment

2009-04-07T14:36:00.005-05:00

So this post is going to be a little less refined; more thinking and typing without the aid of reason, editing, or even fully developed linear thoughts. So hang in there if you chose to keep reading and respond with your own thoughts, questions, or feel free to push back on things you don't agree with.

At what point in our lives have we formed our core opinions, decisions, or values that will then inherently drive the rest of our lives? This must occur at some point, that we make a choice or arrive at core conviction on something or many things and this affects how we view things we encounter. This can be as small as a dislike for cooked carrots or as large as your religious faith. Either way, there is a moment or many individual moments that direct your future understanding, opinions, and decisions.

Now here's another question, is this good or bad, or can it be both. Can my personal dislike for cooked carrots be valid or prejudice? See, as a child I was forced to eat them and I hated the consistency the . That mushy gushy feeling in my mouth makes me want to vomit. And from that one incident I now have a dislike for all things mushy and gushy, which also leads to my assuming something is mushy and gushy and deciding that I will not like it. I reach this absolute decision without trying the food in question to confirm that I'd would not like it.

Or, take for instance an author, speaker, etc. If I have read an author or heard a speaker before and agreed with or liked what they had to say, I assume that I'll also agree with or like their other works and will seek them out again. Yet, the opposite is true. Also, if there are certain ideas or truths that I've accepted and taken as my own core beliefs I will weigh and evaluate other people's opinions, thoughts, or written works through the prejudice of those beliefs.

Another example from my own life. I read the book On the Road by Jack Kerouac in college and hated it. I was disturbed by the main character's utter disinterest in any type of responsibility or authority, his selfishness and self involvement, and just the path of people he left in his wake as he searched for the meaning of life or his next high. To this day, I have feelings of disgust and dislike toward the book and the work. And yet on a trip to the New York Public Library I saw an exhibit about Jack Kerouac, with the original scroll on which he wrote On the Road, and his life and while I still had those feelings of dislike for his written works and even his own life choices, I was interested in a celebrated, by some, writer and the story of his life.

So is all prejudice bad?

Of course that word brings with it considerable baggage, as it probably should. And yet, I'm prejudice against cooked carrots and Jack Kerouac. I won't eat the carrots and I won't read any other works of Kerouac. Is that wrong? Or have I formed an opinion on my own experiences.

Now, this isn't to say that my opinions are always formed on truth. Because while I might have the option to dislike cooked carrots because I have tried them, can I then judge any other cooked vegetable based on that one experience? A silly example I realize, so let's look at Jack Kerouac. Since I've read and determined my opinion for On the Road can I form an opinion on the rest of the works of Kerouac, or for that matter other Beat movement authors? Can I, or more should I be prejudice toward another author because of my already informed opinion about one in the same movement?

How about a different spin on this idea. Can I read a book, any book, with a truly open mind? Or do I come to things with an already formed opinion about them, in some small form at least, based on my personally held convictions, opinions, and values? And if I do try to read something with an open mind, will I bristle at the things that peak my negative opinions and embrace without much thought those things that I already hold at true?

Can we view things with discernment and yet without prejudice? Are those two things the same or different or are they somehow connected and yet separate?

Working at a church, being in the Christian culture, and having lots of conversations with college kids I've often head the words "I was challenged by this or that". Part of me now wonders if we are really challenged or are we just continually justified in our already held beliefs. For something to truly challenge you, shouldn't it rock something deep within you, or spur you on to change a deep-seeded behavior or belief, shouldn't it shock your preconceived notion about whatever it is that the challenge rises from? Or do we use the word "challenged" because it's what we think we're supposed to say?

I'm not saying that we should question every single value or conviction we hold. Those are huge pillars in our life that form who we are, what we think, and how we live. But is discernment looking at everything we encounter (the things we like, dislike, embrace, and reject) and holding them to a standard that is above our own preconceived opinions and testing them to something that is solid and true. What is truth then? Is it my own version of what I believe, or does it rest outside of me and I'm broken upon it time and again until those values, opinions, and beliefs become something that is less "me" and more "truth"?

Ok, I need to think about this more. Sorry if you're lost or left hanging. I'd love to hear your thoughts. As I said, this is "in process" and much more rough than refined.

Admitting my obsession

2009-04-03T11:43:00.004-05:00

Ok, I'm admitting it, I'm minorly obsessed with Lost.

Now there are some limits to this obsession, case in point: I don't cruise the MANY fan sites, I don't have a screen name like Oceanicgal or Lostie7, I don't hit Amazon.com the moment after the show airs to buy any work of literature (or comic book) mentioned. But I do read two websites about the show, one is ew.com and the other is a blog by people who seem to be just like me, entranced by the story but not overly geekified. I also have a good group of friends who will banter with me about theories, plot lines, and our predictions of how it will all end.

Now, there is ONE thing that might push me over the edge into a form of geekiness that is, well, let's just call it the upper level of nerddom. I have this idea of something to do between the end of this season and the beginning of the next, the FINAL season where all loose ends will be tied up and all our questions will hopefully be answered.

Since I love puzzles and figuring out problems my plan is this: I will watch the prior seasons of LOST and see anew each ep (I use this term for episode because I was told it makes me sound cool and trust me I need all the cool points I can get) with the knowledge I now have. I will also, wait for it here comes the geeky part, takes notes on questions, facts, new plot developments, character connections, and all those little tidbits that I missed along the way OR are huge now in light of future events.

Ok, take a moment and laugh at me, you know you want to.

When I mentioned this to my co-workers, some of which are fellow Lost-watchers and others who are missing out on the amazingness that is this show, they laughed. It's ok, I have a pretty good sense of self worth when it comes to my nerdy tendencies. Then they asked if I was going to turn all John Nash from A Beautiful Mind and have my apartment walls covered in theories and time lines and flow charts. Well not my apartment walls . . . . that's what notebooks are for. I did give them permission to stage an intervention if I started talking about my "friend" Dave who helps me with my theories. (BTW - that was a fun little Lost reference for those of you who might share my obsession and if you don't it's just more fuel for the fire that I'm a nerd).

So that's the plan, we'll see if it happens. Either way I love the show, I love the stories, and I'm obsessed with figuring out the mysteries that surround the story. I think when it comes down to it, I just like problems or riddles that require you to notice small things, connect random dots, and buy into the story to understand the solution.

Anonymity in a crowd of voices

2009-03-31T16:44:00.005-05:00

A recent college grad I've known for the last year was picking my brain on blogging. She expressed interest in having a blog but worried about who would see what she wrote. See, she wanted to write about the experience of planning a wedding: the good, the bad, and the often ugly (yes horrendous bridesmaid dresses that rain down horror and ill-fittingness I'm pointing my finger at you). She was trying to balance the catharsis of talking about the craziness of wedding planning with not hurting anyone's feelings. I suggested having a blog without her name attached and telling no one about it. And then she said the all too true statement of "But then no one will read it."

Even in this world where people can expose their thoughts with almost total anonymity we still want to be heard. Even if what we have to say might hurt someone's feelings or generally piss off a whole other group of people we still want our thoughts to be heard and received. We want the truth of what we think or feel or are dealing with to be known by others.

And there is the trade-off. If you really want what you have to say to be heard you have to give up some of your anonymity. You have to deal with the fall-out of letting others into your thoughts and opinions. Sometimes the price is worth it because you were able to speak what was once unspoken and share what was true to you; but other times the cost is high, too high, and we mute our voices and hold back out thoughts.

How does this play out in real life, outside the blog? What is the cost to returns equation that keeps us silent or pushes us to open our mouths? And is that how we should decide to speak up? Should speaking up or sharing an opinion be based on the reaction we anticipate it receiving or should it be based on something more: truth, honesty, openness, and vulnerability?

Is anonymity good or is it something we hide behind so we don't have to expose our true selves or maybe just even truth?

Letting out the inner monologue

2009-03-26T15:07:00.007-05:00

So after two and a half years in FW, I realized I've squelched my inner monologue that once poored forth so freely on this blog. I'm not sure if it's a lack of subject matter or time, or more just a lack of putting effort into writing out my thoughts, but whatever the reason I'm committing to start posting again. This blog was always more about a place to write that continual conversation that happens in my head between me and myself and have some sort of evidence of what I was processing at the moment. So here goes, a choice to start writing again. We'll see what happens when I start letting the conversations and thoughts transfer to the page.

Do you Posted Note?

2009-02-24T14:33:00.001-06:00

Hey all,
Eddie over at Posted Note is having a contest with awesome prizes. All it takes is a little time and effort and you could win big. Go check it out NOW!

100 calories packs

2009-02-17T10:42:00.003-06:00

On my last trip to Target (they happen often so I probably should mention this was trip three in as many days) I was struck with a thought: Our world is slowly being taken over by 100 calories. Almost every snack or food item is now neatly packaged in a 100 calorie pack. On your next shopping trip look at the astounding number of items that blazenly state they're 100 calories.

Who am I kidding? My pantry is made up of these centennial packs. I sustain myself by the 100 calorie item. See, I've recently taken to recording my food consumption and those little packs are nifty and easy to use. 100 calories here or there make for a quick indulgence in chocolate or marshmallows or salty chips and it's easy to plug them into my iphone log. Wow, I guess I just realized I'm a techie calorie counter.

So now I'm wondering if the 100 pack will extend past the shopping aisles into other things? What if restaurants start offering 100 calorie portions? Or recipes tell you have many 100 calorie servings there are? How great would it be if every bit of food I ate came in 100 calorie portions, bites, or packages.

Hmm, maybe this is evidence of my organized/number crunching/pieces fitting together obsession or maybe the world is becoming one big 100 calorie pack.

Merry-go-round

2009-01-12T15:11:00.002-06:00

As a kid I always love the merry-go-round, maybe it was due to my aversion to roller coasters. The bright lights and fancy horses draw you in to a magical world of sight and sounds. Up, down, up, down, round and round you go. The music plays and the lights flash and there you go up and down, round and round.

But the problem with a merry-go-round is that you end up right back where you started. For with all the distance you travelled on your mighty steed, you've only gone in a circle. So much time, so much perceived distance but really it's a joy ride to the same place you've always been.

Life feels like that at times. I'm entranced by the lights and sounds, the pretty colors and the rush of the crowd. So I climb on my horse ready for an adventure or journey, only to end up going up and down and round and round. And for all the distance I travel and time I spend, I'm back at the same place I started.

What if there was a way to take my horse out into the open? To break free like that scene in Mary Poppins. No more up and down, round and round, but a full on sprint into the world.

What would life be like if it wasn't lived on a merry-go-round but in a freedom induced run into the world, spending all your time going somewhere, anywhere, and ending up in a different place than you started?

Inventory

2008-12-30T11:38:00.002-06:00

Following in the footsteps of some good friends, Chirky and Binky (heck with those names Kpinion sounds down right normal), I'm sharing with you the contents of my ~~duffel bag~~ purse. Now I have to admit I upgraded from a normal size purse (still able to hold a small dog if needed though I have promised myself to never become one of those people) to a full fledged could pass for a school bag tote/purse so I have more room but haven't really taken advantage of that at all times.

Here we go:

Rubbermaid 7 cup plastic food container
Can of Campbells Select harvest chicken noodle soup (lunch)
Wallet
Iphone
Ipod
Ear phones
Small notebook
Laminated Tax Exempt form (for work)
Check stub
Couple pieces of folded paper
Checkbook
Nail File
A pretty Cross pen in case that belonged to my grandmother
Mechanical pencil
A "katie" pen in hot pink (note: I usually have an abundance of these but today only one)
"Look Ma, new hands" lotion (heaven for my skin)
Burts Bees Lip Balm
C.O. Bigelow Lip Balm
Burts Bees Super Shiny Lip Gloss in Zesty Red
Clinique Lip Gloss in Juicy Apply
Estee Lauder Gloss in Cherry (a crazy red that I don't wear)
Clinique Color Surge impossibly glossy
Liplicious Tasty Lip Color (Dipped Strawberry - YUMMY)
California Pizza Kitchen receipt (from Sunday afternoon)
Keys
My set of valet keys (not sure why these are in here)
A package of Halls Defense Vitamin C drops in Strawberry
Two granola bars (Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip flavor is you were intersted)
A travel container of assorted meds (advil, aleve, and tylenol)
A few said pills in the bottom of my purse
Eclipse mints in a tin with a lid that always comes open
A few said mints in the bottom of my purse
Kleenex pocket pack
Eye drops for contact wearers
Powder Compact
A mirror compact
A hershey kiss
A small reeses peanut butter cup
A bandaid
A Pappas bros. pack of matches
A roll of smarties
1 penny
6 bobby pins

That's all folks. The sad thing is there's plenty of room for a sweatshirt or small child.

Feeling like a kid again

2008-12-09T13:49:00.003-06:00

What is it about Christmas that makes me feel like a kid? The decorations, smells (cookies, pine needles, and log fires), weather (cold and if you're lucky SNOW), friends and family, traditions? Maybe it's a little bit of everything all wrapped up in a present at the foot of the tree that makes me feel like I'm 5 in fuzzy footed pajamas with a mug of hot chocolate.

Last night "A Charlie Brown Christmas" was on TV and I had to stop and watch it and let myself become a child again. I love Charlie Brown, that poor kid who can't seem to get things right the first go round but has a heart too big for his yellow and brown sweater. I also love this cartoon because it so simply sets the stage for the Christmas holiday season. Even the kids of Peanuts get sucked into the commercialization of this holiday until one little tree that was headed for the chipper gets given a chance and Linus (oh sweet Linus) reminds everyone what the holiday is supposed to be about.

So watch and enjoy and join me with your cup of hot cocoa and your footed pajamas and take in the wonders of the season as you remember that's it's not about the sights and sounds but about something greater, bigger, and a promise that we're all waiting to see fulfilled.

I found this video on another blog, and unfortunately I closed the window before getting the address so I could properly give credit to the man who made this. So this is a thank you to Mr. Dixon for putting together this little video.

100,000

2008-11-13T09:46:00.006-06:00

A few weeks ago my odometer rolled past the landmark of one hundred thousand miles. In fact, I didn't notice it until about fifty miles past the magic number. And while this huge number marks a lot of wear and tear on my poor car it also chronicles about 5 years of my life. Thankfully it's a Toyota so I'm convinced it will work until I drive it off of a cliff "Thelma and Louise style".

I remember buying my car which was, of course, my first grown up purchase. Before this, I had driven, wait for it, a Dodge Caravan and Chevrolet Caprice in high school (my coolness overwhelms you, I know) and then a Plymouth something-or-other and a Ford Taurus. Wow, I drove old lady cars. I will say that I have some great memories from those cars though. You'd be surprised just how many people you can pack into a Caprice, it's astounding.

When I was able to purchase my own car I steered clear of the land barges and soccer mom vehicles. Instead I wanted something grown up and yet fun that would outlive me if possible. A car is so utilitarian on one hand and a status symbol on the other. We pour over miles per gallon (now more than then), maintenance requirements, cloth or leather seating, power locks vs. the ancient crank windows, and then moon roof, sun roof, no roof. Even the color is important, do you want to blend or stand out? In my case, my speed while driving makes me stand out so I went for a blendable color, white in case you were wondering. We think through leg room, head room, and trunk space for those dead bodies we might one day haul or groceries if you live a boring life. We contemplate how high up or low to the ground we will sit, I guess choosing if we want to actually squash people in smaller cars or maybe skirt through the undercarriage of a semi.

The one thing I didn't think about as I signed away five years of car payments was where my car would take me. Those 100,000 miles represented payments and gas tanks but more than that, they represented the places I would go (insert a Dr. Seuss reference here). From the everyday drive to work or the grocery store to road trips and family visits, my car has taken me all kinds of places.

I like numbers, they give a sense of measurement and history. With each mile tallied on my car comes the history of where I went and why. Trips to south Texas for holidays, birthdays, funerals, and family events all add to the big number. Those twice weekly trips to Dallas for bible study from which lifelong friendships grew. A long drive in my car on a Saturday afternoon when I wanted to think or not think and just listen to music with the windows down.

Memories, stories, and miles all represented in that six digit number right there on my dash. What if other things in our life kept a tally: shoes that marked the steps taken exploring New York City, phones that log the hours spent having a heart wrenching talk with a friend, a stomach that counted all those calories resulting from chocolate chip cookies, keyboards that keep track of the words written in a lifetime.

One hundred thousand miles and counting.

It's like Christmas

2008-11-04T16:35:00.002-06:00

I just wrote an email to the group leader for my weekly Bible study in which I explained to her that I was going to sneak out early so I can watch election results. Yep, I'm a nerd.

Her reply included the party line by the large group leader about polls not closing until 9, and I already voted so I couldn't change anything, and yada, yada, yada. She then mentioned that she thought of me during that whole discussion and how I had skipped out early on the same Bible study years ago to catch the end of the State of the Union (did I mention I'm a nerd?) So I responded with my ever growing rebellious tone that I'm a freak when it comes to politics and governement and Election Day is like Christmas to me and I had no problem skipping out early on Bible study no less.

Seriously, it doesn't matter that my vote has been cast already or that polls won't close until 9pm CST, I want to watch it all happen! It's like opening Christmas presents, most of the fun is in unwrapping them and being surprised. I want to listen to the commentators talk about exit polls and put up precinct reports. I want to watch as the states turn from gray to blue or red. In fact, if I would have planned better I would have made my own electoral college counter with a big map of the US and a state cut-out in red and blue that I could then tap to my wall. I would tally the electoral college points and tally after each state was called.

This is my holiday people and I want to celebrate it my way.

So if you haven't, go out and cast your vote. Do it now, do it because you can, do it because someone actually gave their life so that you had the freedom to have your voice heard and counted. And then, when you're done, you can come and sit on my couch with me and watch the results come in.

Stumped

2008-10-23T14:05:00.003-05:00

It's funny for me to think that for almost two years I wrote a blog post practically daily and yet for the last two years I've been averaging one or two a month. I'm not sure if it's that I have less time to write or I have less things to write. Or maybe, it's a combination of both.

Oh I still think, boy do I think. But my thoughts are often left to rattle around in my brain than to go from pen to paper, or in my case, keyboard to screen. I do miss writing though. For being a more analytical, practical, administrative type person, writing always seemed to be my one creative outlet. It was a place for all the thoughts, questions, ideas, etc. that crowd my ever turning mind to find release.

So, I'm going to try to write more. Trust me it won't be a post a day, I've got too much going on for a goal like that. But maybe just a post a week. So if you're still out there internet I'm going to start speaking again. And if you're gone, that's ok, honestly I never wrote for you but more for me.

In shock

2008-09-16T14:48:00.003-05:00

Below is a picture, post-Ike, of the coastal town of our family's beach cabins - Canal City. Devastation isn't really the right word to describe that there is ONE home left standing from a neighborhood of dozens. It's a bit surreal to think this beach house, built by my grandfather and his buddies over 50 years ago, was obliterated by wind and water.

The comforting thing is that I know all the many memories I have of this beach house and time there with my family there can't be taken away by a hurricane.

Olympics

2008-08-15T14:22:00.003-05:00

Since the 12 hour time difference between China and Texas has led to many a late nights watching the Olympics I've had some time to ponder what event I would be able to compete in if I had a chance at a slot on the Olympic team.

Running is most definitely out. I'm more of a turtle than a hare.
Swimming is probably a no-go since I never learned how to breath and swim at the same time.
Gymnastics has no chance since balance is my mortal weakness.

Hmmm what does this leave? Weightlifting - nope, fencing - good idea but not sure I have the skills, maybe I need to look at the more non-famous sports.

I found it! Yep, I know what I will try out for next Olympic go-round. I would be perfect as the person that yells out "STROKE" in the crew competitions. I'm loud, I can keep tempo, and it requires really only those two things.

So in four or maybe 8 years, I might have a medal in hand for being the best yeller to keep time there is in the world.

Nature or Nurture?

2008-07-22T11:05:00.002-05:00

In my case . . . . BOTH!

My mom is throwing a wedding shower for her best friend's daughter and I am the go-to expert. This expertise is assumed by my mom because as she says, "You're young and always going to parties, so you know more than me." By the way, I've been waiting my whole life to hear my mom say "you know more than me", though I wasn't imagining it to be in relation to showers.

Last night on the phone, she mentioned an email she had sent me with some information on invitations. Then she commented "You'll probably blog about me after you read it." With a comment like that, how could I not?

So today after reading the email, this line stuck out to me "since I'm quite anal and long winded - you might want to print this email (sorry about that)!" Ha, if you know me than you know that sentence is pretty much a great description of me too.

So if there is ever any question . . . . I am my mother's daughter.

The power

2008-06-18T15:30:00.003-05:00

Ok, so being a Children's Ministry Director doesn't come with a whole lot of power and stature. But there is one week where I inherit ultimate power with endless possibilities. The type of power that allows me to require my co-workers to dress up in crazy costumes that include gold jeans, leather pants, and shiny lizard-skin shirts. Now pull your mind out of whatever gutter you've found yourself and realize that our VBS theme is about special agents in space. Hence the gold, leather, and lizard skin.

Obviously since it only happens once a year, I'm getting lots of pictures of this hilarious event. Maybe I'll use them as blackmail for a new playground or more cheerios. Hey, a girl's gotta use what she has available to her.

Gardens

2008-06-16T15:30:00.002-05:00

I find it interesting that Christ is referred to as the last Adam. For the first and only God-Man is tied closely to the first man made by God.

In fact, when God created Adam, he formed him out of dust and dirt, he wasn't born, he didn't grow up, he just became. And yet, Christ, who was human and yet also God, was formed in the womb. He grew by his cells dividing and multiplying, forming organs and body parts. Both created by God in body and form, both perfect in their creation, and each would face a choice that would define their lives and ours.

Adam dwelled in the presence of God, he walked and talked with Him (sidenote: this amazes me and blows my mind) in the Garden of Eden. He didn't suffer hunger, thirst, want, or any other trial or need we now find part of our life. Adam's body was perfect, complete, and eternal. His existence was idyllic until one fateful choice. The one time he faced the option to oppose God he jumped at it. There is no record of Adam struggling with his decision, debating the outcome or consequences. The Bible simply says he ate. In that one choice the path of man was eternally altered.

Christ, on the other hand, was born into temptation. He entered the world not in a divine body but one that began breaking down the moment he took his first breath. Christ suffered every trial, tribulation, need, etc. that man would encounter: hunger, thirst, temptation (those three taking place at the hand of Satan in a face to face showdown), loneliness, brokenness, deception, rejection, and more. In the midst of all these temptations Christ stood firm, he suffered through the trials but He didn't fall to the temptation.

Yet one night we get a glimpse of the man Christ and his toughest trial. Alone in a garden, on the eve of His death, we see Christ wrestle with temptation. He is in anguish, both physically and mentally, a battle waring within himself. Christ could have walked away. He could have made the choice to not follow through with the cross. If he couldn't than why the anguish? Why the pleading with God for a different way?

This is where we see the greatest difference between Adam and Christ. Adam chose self in his garden while Christ chose us in his. Both decisions reach into eternity and change the course of man. One brought death and the other life. One was made without a thought, instinct maybe, or just the ease of sin. The other was made after a battle of wills, sweat, tears, and pleading.

What do I learn about myself in these two men in their gardens with their choices? Are my choices for self and sin, made without a thought, an instinct that is deep within me? Do I battle with God to chose His will and way, pleading for something else, but submitting to His leading? I don't think the battle is that wrong when it signifies that I know His truth and I'm honest with my struggle to live it. The wrong is how quickly I can chose self without a thought to Him.

We each possess a part of both Adams. Our flesh is born of the first one always seeking self with no thought to the consequences. Our spirit is born of the second, loving God so much we battle the other to submit to His will

I hope when I find myself in my gardens, I'm willing to have the battle with God, to suffer the anguish and pain that comes when both my parts war over what I will chose.

It's lonely at the top

2008-06-04T16:19:00.002-05:00

My friend, co-worker, and fellow blogger Ben posted something recently about loneliness vs. being alone. Go read the post for yourself, because it's well thought out and interesting (Ben's one of those good thinker types), but I'll give you the cliff notes version. He's thinking trought the difference, if there is one, between loneliness and being alone and how we interact with those two states of being.

In a related situation, I was talking with a friend recently about what had been going on in our lives and as she began to describe what she was feeling and experiencing I could relate. As she grasped for a one-word description I ventured a guess with "lonely". That was it, but not specifically the loneliness that comes with being absent from people or even a feeling of aloneness, but more of a longing and emptiness that you recognized slowly at first and then with overwhelming depth. It was something more than related to people but internal, personal, and not easily solved by immersing oneself in the crowd.

I have more thoughts on this and an answer to Ben's questions posed over on his post, but I would love to hear your thoughts.

How do you define loneliness? Being alone?

Is there a difference between the two, if so what?

One Look

2008-05-09T13:34:00.011-05:00

The same eyes that he had looked into numerous times and yet at that moment they carried a different message.

Luke 22:31-34

31"Simon, Simon, behold,Satan demanded to have you,that he might sift you like wheat, 32but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again,strengthen your brothers." 33Peter said to him, "Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death." 34Jesus said, "I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me."

Luke 22: 54-62

54Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house, and Peter was following at a distance. 55 And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. 56Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, "This man also was with him." 57But he denied it, saying, "Woman, I do not know him." 58And a little later someone else saw him and said, "You also are one of them." But Peter said, "Man, I am not." 59And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, "Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean." 60But Peter said, "Man, I do not know what you are talking about." And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. 61And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, "Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times." 62And he went out and wept bitterly.

We want to believe that there was judgement in that look, an "I told you so" or "I'm so disappointed in you". And yet, I believe that within those eyes was a look of deep compassion and love. This was Christ's last teaching moment for Peter, the last lesson to impart before His death. All the judgement that Peter felt in his failure was of his own creation. Christ looked not to condemn but to love, to remind Peter of all His words. Oh Peter would stumble and fall, his failure would be public and piercing, but redemption was promised, and a greater redemption than Peter could even imagine.

I like to theorize what Peter felt and thought in that moment. Humiliation, fear, and maybe even a jab at his pride. For it was pride that Jesus had tried to point out to Peter, it was pride that had to be broken for love to fully exist. When Peter met eyes with Jesus, I wonder if he played in his head the conversation from earlier, if he heard every word as if Christ was speaking them in that one look. But I think Peter focused in on just a portion of that conversation, the one that pointed out his failure and faults. We do that too. It's hard to remember the promise of forgiveness and redemption when we're face to face with betraying the one we love, watching our pride in action, and doing it all after swearing we're better than that.

I also wonder if Peter could grasp Christ's words and promise without experiencing them come to fruition. Can we know the depth of our pride without seeing it exposed to the world? Can we hear the empty promises we make out of passionate excitement without seeing our failure to keep them? Can we know the depth of love and forgiveness without knowing our desperate need? And lastly, could Peter understand the ultimate fulfillment of Christ's promise for forgiveness and redemption without seeing his friend and Lord on the cross?

Why is grace so much harder to accept than judgement? Is it because as humans we naturally posses judgement in our hearts? This isn't to say that judgement is evil, but our version of it, riddled with animosity, hatred, and pride is a far cry from the righteous judgement of a holy and perfect God. No, I think that human judgement is easy and so we expect it, sometimes we even feel more comfortable with it because we know it and we can to an extent control it. But grace, the grace of a God who knows you will deny Him and yet promises you He will forgive and make you better and then proves that so vividly by marching to the cross and dying, that is foreign to us.

And so when we read this story, I think we often assume that Christ eyes betray His disappointment, His anger, His judgement. And yet, those aren't the eyes of a Savior, those aren't the eyes of a Redeemer. The one who would willfully lay down His life must have eyes filled with love deeper than we can convey with our own.

And in that one look, Peter probably missed the lesson. It took three long days for Him to understand that he had spent three years looking into the eyes of one who would not bring judgement but life.

One look.

How long will we miss the lesson?

***Thank you to my dear friend Margaret, who in her words of wisdom and encouragement gave me the idea to write this post.***

Question

2008-05-07T15:38:00.001-05:00

Which invention had a greater impact . . . . sliced bread or the internet?

Discuss.

Really, I want your opinion. I'll share mine eventually.

Oh so true . . . . .

2008-05-01T14:07:00.003-05:00

In case you didn't know I am a Children's Ministry Director at a church in Fort Worth. Wow, that's a lot of personal information to put up on the internet, but some of you think my real name is Kpinion so really I'm not worried about the crazies out there tracking me down. (please note I'm seriously considering naming any daughter I have kpinion, because I might as well prepare myself for the type of little girl I will produce!)

Well ,with this job comes lots of opportunities to laugh at myself and what I do, ex. that time a 2 year old puked all over me right before I went up on stage in front of a hundred or so people. That was fun . . . . and yet somehow pretty normal in my world.

So when I found this post on an amazing blog, http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com , it rang oh so true.

Leftovers

2008-04-28T13:52:00.003-05:00

Memories of the feast still linger in my head.

I sit at a table set with such splendor, beautiful china and silver laid out for each person. Dishes overflowing with food fulfilling every desire. My eyes drift to the Host, seated at the head of the table. And even from a distance He has the ability to make each guest feel like they are at an intimate dinner alone with Him. We share amazing food and deep conversation. A free flow of talking and listening, sharing fears, hopes, and dreams. Long after we begin, the food never diminishes and the conversation never lulls. Surely the Host wishes His guests would return to their own homes, their own lives. But no, His home is open to all for as long as we desire to stay. He never tires of hearing me speak, He never falters with an answer of wisdom or encouragement. At time we just sit, enjoying the presence of the other, words unnecessary.

And then in the midst of comfort and belonging, my mind turned to other things. Deadlines, to-do lists, my life outside of the banquet began to tug at my thoughts. Somehow, someway I found myself pulling out of conversation, avoiding eye contact with the Host. I withdrew from the midst of them.

As I sit here, far from the banqueting table and the presence of the Host my thoughts return to that time. I look at the plate of leftovers He sent with me. The food is the same and serves the function of nourishment, but it's a shadow of the feast it once was. And while it sustains me, it fails to fill me. The memories of those moments, sitting face to face with Him flood my mind. I yearn to be back there, feasting on new, fresh food that never lacks, sitting so intimately with Him, hearing His voice and knowing He hears mine. Yet, here I sit, eating leftovers from the place I want to be.

The invitation is always open. The Host glances at the empty chair waiting for my return, for the conversation to flow free again, for Him to share with me the bounty of His feast, His encouraging words of wisdom, and an ear who listens intently knowing my heart.

Even knowing my place is always open, I once again pull out the leftovers and mourn that I am not at the table. Desiring so much to return to where I once sat and for some reason struggling to find my way back. And so I pull out the leftovers again.

Stuff . . . . (sometimes known as baggage)

2008-04-18T11:39:00.002-05:00

Driving home the other night I glanced at the car next to me at a stoplight. The driver was barely visible threw a collection of "stuff". Boxes, bags, piles, and most interestingly pine cones filled his car.

Now we've all seen cars like this. I realize that for some people their vehicle is also the place they call home, others have an obsession with collecting everything they put their hands on, and then some people are just messy. Yet, as I looked with shock, awe, and I'll admit a bit of humor (pine cones? at least a few dozen of them?) I wondered what stuff I carry around with me at all times.

I wonder if these people know what it's like to have a clean car, one where a friend can join you for a road trip, one where you can enjoy the view through all the windows? And then I think of my life, of the stuff that overwhelms me and crowds out the free space for new opportunities, new adventures, new relationships.

If you haven't figured out, I'm not talking about stuff here but that great little word that's hip in therapy circles called "baggage". The stuff we hold on to for no other reason than to carry it with us through life, oftentimes much like some of those overfilled cars out there. Baggage has a tendency to weigh us down, separate us from other people, and block out the opportunity for a clear view of the horizon.

I don't have all the answers on how to get rid of baggage, and I'm not sure we ever will. Hey, my trunk carries it's own share of junk, but at least it doesn't block my shotgun seat or the view out my back window. Nope, it was just a question to ask myself as I pulled up alongside a car overwhelmed by stuff. How much of my "stuff" overwhelms me?