and time stands still…
you get a phone call that you weren’t expecting…and time stands still
an email sends your system into shock…and time stands still
life choices leave you burdened and confused…and time stands still
the future is entirely, freakishly uncertain…and time stands still
the words you say will either breathe life, or sound completely hollow…and time stands still
in the midst of a storm, either real or perceived, we are faced with so many options. do i pray? do i cry? do i trust? do i lean? do i move? do i act? do i rest?
and in the midst of this said storm, of which i have no control, i can rely on my own ability to survive- to make it- to get through it…or i can rely on One whose whisper even the storm can hear [to guide it or stop it]- in hopes of finding an inner peace that lifts me above the storm to see it for what it truly is…and time stands still.
Dear Haiti
Dear Haiti,
I do not know you well. I don’t know much of your story. I’ve never had the chance to visit you and see your beautiful home. I hear it’s wonderful. I hear your story is one of heartbreak and struggle to persevere and unity with your family. I hate that this tragedy has struck you. I hate that I sit on a soft couch in a warm building, drinking coffee, knowing that as helpful as my money may be, nothing I send you can take away your pain. I want to take you home with me. I want to clothe you and feed you, and sing songs to you like I do my own children. Haiti, I am sorry that the world has ignored your needs for so long. As awful as this sounds, maybe the beauty from the ashes is that this time, your needs won’t go unnoticed. Maybe this is the season for the world to step up and face their fear of failure, give away their need for power and control, sacrifice more than seems possible, and open their arms to strangers without calculating the costs first. Maybe this is the season that the heart will lead and it will not be a hardened heart, but a broken heart, a remorseful heart. A reconciling heart.
Haiti you have a very amazing creator. He thinks your special. He has given you both your inner beauty and outer beauty. He has given you inner strength, when your outer strength crumbles. If you don’t know him, you should meet him. He’ll walk with you through this storm closer than anyone else.
Haiti. I am sorry. I wish I could do more. Someday I will come meet you and I hope we will be good friends.
Love, Katey
mary’s song
It’s the beginning of a new year. A year filled with hope and excitement. With young children to watch grow, a husband to support in his small business, and a job I love with people who care for me…what’s there not to be excited about? But Corey and I got news today of the death of one of our college classmates. One who we weren’t close to, but have friends who were close to him. He died in the night, suddenly, leaving behind a wife and infant son. Life is but a breath. Life is fragile. Life is easily taken for granted. Life is painful. These are all thoughts roaming through my head. And at the beginning of a hopeful new year. But this death isn’t the only one that crosses our family’s path. The one-year anniversaries of three lost family and loved ones is coming up all too soon. The husband of a friend of church, my grandmother (whom I’ve been told I take after most), and Corey’s grandfather (a dear friend and role model for Corey). Why is death what is ringing in our new year? it draws one into melancholy, oh so quickly. We mourn with those who mourn (an unwanted departure from this life), and rejoice with those who rejoice (a healthy and whole being united with God, the Maker).
I’ve decided to take on Mary’s Song as my verse for the year. I hope to find an anchor in this passage while I sadly reflect on love lost and hopes shattered. But death is defeated in this poetry, thanks to the infant boy born to an unexpecting teenage girl who probably had dreams of her own.
Mary’s Song (Luke 1:46-55)
46And Mary said:
“My soul glorifies the Lord
47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48for he has been mindful
of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
49for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
holy is his name.
50His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.
51He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
52He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
53He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.
54He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful
55to Abraham and his descendants forever,
even as he said to our fathers.”
Though this passage doesn’t fill me with fluffy happiness that is like a bandage over an unhealed wound, it actually shocks me. Here Mary has been given the surprise of her life- not as bad as death I suppose- but a certain kind of death. Betrothal to a man she barely knows, a pregnancy that will shame her to all people (even her family), and loss of her childhood innocence. But rather than sing a song of lamentation- woe is me- she sees a Father in Heaven who loves her, and this world. A Father who is bigger than her comprehension, who does mighty deeds and stretches his arm, who is merciful and just, who rights wrongs and brings peace to conflict. This song is a work of God in this young woman’s life, and her belief and hope in something bigger than herself, her family, and her hopes and dreams. And she can glorify Him and rejoice in Him despite her world being turned, probably, upside-down.
Here’s to you mom
I was reading a blogpost this morning for some research I am doing about prayer, and I came across this woman’s realization about herself and her mother. Knowing how many conversations I have had with other young moms about the joys and trials of following after your own mother- I thought this was truly insightful. For all those times when we just don’t see eye to eye, here is a moment to reflect on the gifts my mother has given me. And to be thankful for our shared faith, love of family, and lasting friendship.
For years I’ve thought my mother and I were from different planets. We disagreed about lots of things. But the Christmas gift I received this week is a deep, almost pregnant knowing that the most important things in my life (and hers) were given to me by my mother–dance, art, hospitality, home, and a relationship with God. Why we always clashed in those areas was strictly a difference in style. We loved the same things but expressed our love differently. We were just from different neighborhoods, not different planets.
My house may not be as clean, my pie not as pretty, my ability to sew and make delicious bread- lacking…but you have instilled in me a love of home-making, home keeping (different than house keeping 
), a deep love for my Savior, commitment to my husband and children, passion to worship God through music, and the gift of leadership. Thanks mom! Maybe I should have saved this for a mother’s day card
Our Nativity
We’re still working on collecting the proper Nativity people and animals. Who really knows what was in that stable anyway? Merry Christmas from our Nativity to yours!
what to do with 30 extra minutes
It’s not too often that I find myself agenda-less. It’s not that there isn’t enough time in the day to get things done. Some would say that’s a state-of-being, I say it’s a state-of-mind. I have time mastered. I plan out my day, my week, my month. I put out a to-do list, a task list, a goal list and start checking things off. I balance my accomplishment hopes and dreams with realistic and practical goals to meet. Some lists just get carried from one week to the next, okay one month to the next…actually if I’m being really honest, one SEASON to the next- I’m not perfect, okay?! Even my down time is scheduled to a certain degree!
So what do I do with a half an hour of unplanned, unprepared for, and unexpected time? Nothing. Well, at first nothing. And then in my desire to be productive I began thinking of things to do. I didn’t have a book, or a computer, or a calendar with me. I was sitting waiting for someone to arrive to a meeting. All I had was my cell-phone, but no urgent calls to make. And so I began to look at the numbers in my phone. And thought of reasons to call people. At first it was just to kill time, and then it became a joyful game. Who can I leave a message with next? Who have I not talked to in a while? Whose call did I forget to return? Who can I say hello to? My 30 minutes of “wasted time” actually turned into 30 minutes of surprisingly special time. Time to think about the people in my life I care for and love. Time to let someone know I was thinking of them. Some people may be good at carving out time to go the extra mile in relationships, but that isn’t my strong suit. No. I need God to set up a divine appointment of emptiness in my jumbled mess of lists and schedules.
don’t skip ahead to jesus
This is the first year that Corey and I can really enjoy introducing Christmas to Ezra. We did it last year too, but an 18 month old can only appreciate so much of our favorite holiday. There are so many things about Christmas to talk about. From snow to family dinners to special cookies and wrapping presents. From decorating the house, the tree, the mantle to building fires, taking the family picture and making the Christmas card. And then the main event. Baby Jesus, and the beautiful nativity. And the other main event, as we embrace the culture and societal traditions- Santa. We have decided to partake of the childhood fantasy and historically evident Saint Nicolas, or Santa Claus. In our house he will not be worshipped, nor idolized. Rather appreciated for his cheerful, joyful, jolly, ho-ho-ho-y, gift giving. But in a media-centric culture, where you cannot shelter your children from the gimme-gottahaveit-wantitnoneedit messages, it is VERY tricky to balance a healthy view of Santa with a Holy view of Jesus. We are still working on this.
One way to emphasize Christ is by reading the story of Jesus birth every day during Advent (particularly for our young ones, but a good way to meditate on the story as adults too!). And while reading the story today to a two year old who is just beginning to process and think about what we tell him, rather than just repeat it, something dawned on me.
What is the significance of Jesus? Ezra was more curious about why King Herod had a mad face than the happy baby in the pile of hay! So when I tried to explain that Herod was afraid Jesus would become king, but Jesus didn’t want to be king of earth, but king of our hearts and connect us with God…and that Herod was a mean king who told people what to do, but Jesus was a kind king who loves us- Ezra didn’t really care.
We can’t see the significance of Jesus (of God sending Jesus to earth) until we go back to the beginning where it all started. Now I know why it was so important for the Israelites to pass on their stories and laws and traditions to their children. And why the shepherds that night after seeing Jesus went and told everyone the “good news!” The story alone is just another story. A girl got pregnant out of wedlock. A couple went on a trip. A child was born in horrible living conditions. Some animals got the first peak at the baby. But this ordinary story, in the context of God’s relationship with mankind from creation to Adam and Eve, to Abraham and Moses, to Joshua and King David all the way to sweet little Mary and brave little Joseph- is an extraordinary story! The King that God promised the Israelites in the Old Testament, was the King that they waited for year after year, generation after generation. The King that God promised would be their Savior a rescue them from oppression, was the King they hoped for and waited for, and prayed for. The King that God promised would come to be atonement for their sins and restore them to a relationship with him, was the King they expected and the King whose arrival they anticipated.
Until I acknowledge my Creator, until I admit my sin- that I am not perfect and at times make horrible mistakes, until I accept my need for a Savior, until I anticipate the life-transformation that can happen through a restored relationship with my maker- I cannot know the true significance of Jesus. And I would say the same for my two year old. So I must, with care, teach my sons about the God who created them. I must, with sincerity, tell them about the Fall and the sin that entered the world. I must, with earnestness, share with them that God forgives us every time we make wrong choices and loves us always the same. And I must, with joy, tell about God’s son Jesus who is the one that God sent so that I could be forever forgiven by God, and live with him forever!
So this is what Advent is all about. Anticipating Christ= but we can’t skip ahead to Jesus. We must first say hello to our Father, God, and remember when and where our story began, and where we’ve come since then.
An Eco-Friendly Christmas Card
In lieu of a printed card this year, we went all out with a family photo shoot. Ha- not the easiest task, but fun never the less! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Have a blessed Advent Season and don’t forget to stop and anticipate the coming of Christ the King!
Exercise- What’s That?
As promised, I thought I’d reflect on my life as an exerciser, or non-exerciser. I have many people and things to blame for why I don’t make time to “stay physically active” (and let’s clear up right now that while caring for babies and toddlers is a physically exhausting job, it does not negate the need to get exercise- in fact I think it increases the need- muscle tone…you know where- no giggling or jumping after having a baby!, endurance- you gotta push an extra heavy grocery cart on a shopping trip that takes 3x as long than if you did it alone!, upper body strength- lifting babies, carrying tantrumming toddlers to a quiet place, heaving a thousand books from the library that your son just couldn’t leave without, etc. etc.)
oh yes, back to whose fault this is: my parents for allowing me to be involved in so many other activities…my teachers for giving me too much homework…the boys in my class as school for thinking I was cute just the way I was…the mirror for making think, as long as I look fine I am fine…the scale for deceiving me into believing that a number on the screen indicates whether or not I need to exercise, that I need to be healthy…my mostly, my husband for telling me regularly he loves me and thinks I’m beautiful just the way I am. Thank you darling but you’re not helping the situation!
Okay, hopefully you know me well enough to know that I’m just kidding. After having two kids and medium to low active lifestyle (let’s be honest i don’t bike or hike or play sports), the reason that exercise is important to me is not so much about how my body looks- although that will be a perk someday when I do exercise more regularly- it’s more about how I feel. Having strength, endurance, muscle tone all the things i mentioned early which I do seriously feel the lack of. I hate being winded from a walk to the library and back. I hate the fact that I prefer to hop in my car for a quick drive to run errands than a wonderful afternoon out with my boys in fresh air making stops on the way to the bank or post office. I kills me that I prefer to play inside with the boys on a sunny day, than be out rolling around in the grass.
Finding time? Not easy but possible. A couple months ago I started doing pilates in the morning. I knew it was a good thing when about a week into the routine, E and I go downstairs to get J and he says, mommy are we gonna ‘get ready to do the roll-up’? Which is exactly what the DVD instructor says, “Let’s get ready to do the roll-up!” Oh that made my day.
2010 goals: keep attempting that exercise routine- because anything is better than nothing!
Roses have thorns.
There is a reason I haven’t been blogging much lately. I have lots of great reasons why my days get filled up, and overflowing, and my weeks disappear before I have time to do everything I want to do, but one of the first things to go when my plate gets full- is reflection. Time to stop and think about who I am, what I’m doing, how well I’m taking care of my family and responsibilities, and self. Time to pray, to thank God for caring for me, time to tell others I’m thankful for them. For me, blogging is about being reflective. That’s just the way I see it, but I don’t stop to reflect as often as I should.
So while my life has felt crazy these past 6-8 weeks, things have been stirring inside me, but I haven’t taken the time to get out. So here is my reflection for today…an image that I have been holding on to for about a month which may be something you (the reader) have felt at times too.
When someone asks me how I am doing, I typically say, ‘I’m fine’, because in light of all that is going on in our world, and the difficulties that many people face around me, I really am okay! I have so many blessings in my life and so much to be thankful for, and not much to complain about (though catch me in the right mood and I’ll have plenty to complain about). Indeed my life could really be likened to a bouquet of roses. Not those perfect magazine ones, but the home garden variety. Yes, I hold my bouquet of roses and smell them, and am grateful, thankful. I examine each rose [a different part of my life] and have different feelings about different parts [just like I prefer white and red roses to pink ones]. As I clasp my bouquet, trying to keep it all together, I feel this pain in my hand. this sharp pain. But why should I feel pain? I’m holding these beautiful roses? But the pain doesn’t go away, and my bouquet is getting wobbly, and starting to fall apart, so I hold tighter and the pain gets stronger. Why oh why?
And then I remember, after a long while, that these roses have thorns. As I try and hold these roses together and keep control of everything, those thorns are pressing in to my palms! So similar to life right? We want control so we hold on tightly, but in that desire to control there is something painful and burdensome which we cannot or should not bear alone. And yes, letting go may mean that imperfections show, or somethings don’t go as we hope, but ultimately the roses are still roses, they are still there, they are still beautiful! And the thorns. Those don’t necessarily go away either! They are still as prickly as ever, those tough life situations, circumstances, family struggles and disappointments. But when we don’t hold as tightly and we see the entirety of what’s in front of us, the beauty is what gives us hope. It’s painful, at times messy, but beautiful. It’s worth it. I wouldn’t trade my bouquet for anyone else’s right now.
