Thirsty?

Just as I had begun to pray tonight, I caught something moving in the corner of my eye. It was startling to me because it was the wilted plant that I had earlier watered. I have always wondered if you could "see" a plant get refreshed, much like watching the hands of a clock--mysteriously they pass time without your notice, although you are aware of their constancy. I had the same thought about my little plant. It is cramped in a too-small pot that I have been "meaning" to get around to re-potting, and it has been gracious with my neglect. It seems to mirror my days when I come home: perky, but with a few damaged leaves; wilted and sagging; alive and bright green (not that I'm bright green...); somewhere in between...

Tonight it was completely wilted. How does it get there that fast? This morning it seemed fresh and didn't seem to need my attention. Why do some days seem to suck the life right out of it while other times it seems that it lives for weeks on a drop of water? Maybe at this point you are wondering why I am rambling about a houseplant...or why I keep using the word "seems"...

It is a spiritual parallel to me tonight--as most mundane things seem to be to me. What I realized as I watched the leaves "jump" around, drinking in the life-giving water, is how quick the plant responded to my care. It didn't sag around for hours after I watered it...no, it started returning to its natural state as if I had never missed a beat. How true this is to my relationship with the Lord. Or, rather, how I want it to be. Some days seem to take the life right out of me and I want to come to Him for the life-giving water...but I don't want to wallow in the misery of my situations. I want to immediately respond to this quenching. And, I realized tonight that the longer the plant goes without its soul food, the longer it takes to perk back up. And, really, after that amount of time, it never fully returns to "normal".

That, in a nutshell, is the point of why I am rambling about my houseplant...

Anonymous Joy

So I get home today to find anonymous flowers on my doorstep...thank you to the person who put them there. It means a great deal after the day I had...

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

A couple of weeks ago, some friends and I went paintballing (is that even a word?--oh, well, it is now). I was so nervous at first and I felt like a wuss...of course, not many people welcome the thought of tiny marbles being shot at your tender skin from an aggressive church-goer.

Well, I am so glad I went! It was awesome...again, apart from the marbles being blown at you through a gun. Seriously, the pain wasn't that bad and it only lasted a second (for most) and it was worth a 3 hour hunt to shoot down some of your closest friends. I found myself to be super cautious and I stayed "hunkered

behind a bunker" (as James says it in a hick accent). My strategy payed off, however, as I did manage to outlast all the competitors in one game. Yay...something should be said for those who "watch and wait". It was cool to see people take risks and come alive in that, too. I just came alive in a different way...

I hope to go again soon, but I think I should wait until my paintball "wound" officially heals...

Sweet Wendy

A friend from high school passed away in October and I went to her funeral this past Saturday. She would've been 28 this month, but she struggled with a rare form of childhood cancer and was finally taken home to be with Jesus.

Honestly, I hadn't talked to her since high school, but I knew she had gone to New York to pursue acting/modeling. She was doing fairly well up there until her brain tumor came back this year.

One thing that I was so encouraged by at her funeral was her ability to laugh at life and to take every moment like it was her last. She always seemed to live this way. I guess when you are almost taken at 12 years old and then get a chance to keep living, you think that way. But, it is foreign to me. I complain an awful lot and I don't pursue all the dreams that are in my heart because I keep thinking I will do some of them "later". There may not be a "later".


It is weird to sit in a room and see someone your age laying lifeless in front of you--sobering even. She had put together a scrapbook that chronicled her last months on earth and it was chilling. She had included journal entries, photos, quotes, bible verses, and prayers to the Lord to take the pain away. She had so much faith and belief in the goodness of God and I cried as I read her last page of the scrapbook. Scribbled out in her own weak handwriting, read,"This may be the last thing that I ever write..."

We'll miss you, Wendy Brantley. I'm so glad I knew her...

Great Expectations

I've been participating in a Bible discussion group for the past couple of weeks with a few of my favorite people--people whose faith I admire and desire to emulate as a believer myself. All for different reasons, I see such a strength in each of them that I long to have myself, so it has been awesome for me to listen in, interpret, chew on, and even throw in my own thoughts. One of the things we are encouraging is "asking the hard questions of the faith". I love that and it has led to some great personal dialogue with the Lord. Here are a few thoughts from my mind trying to wrap around some of these concepts that theologians have fought over for centuries (yeah, I know...I don't think our little group expects to figure it out, just voice it all :oP )

From my journal last week (regarding the topic of praying specifically vs. generally):
"I enjoyed our Bible discussion and I admitted to fearing the thought of asking the hard questions of faith in fear that if I get no answer from You, Lord, my disappointment will be greater because I expected of you. If I expect nothing [meaning I wasn't in line with God's will for a situation], and I get nothing, then I am not surprised. If I get something, it is a blessing from You. It is hard to argue with You and yet speak to You in the proper "You-owe-me-no-answers-at-all" attitude. Can I do both?

Prayer for me looks a little like this math formula at times:
expect nothing + get nothing=no surprise
expect nothing + get something (in line with the will of God for a situation)=blessing
expect something + get nothing=disappointment
expect something + get something=lucky break that I tapped into the will of God for that
situation
So, pray specifically or gloss-over-general?"

Anybody else feel this way at times?

Leagues

The topic of "Leagues" came up in my homegroup the other night and I thought it was super interesting. I have always wondered what boys think about a girl "being out of their league" and vice versa, so I ask boys all the time what their thoughts are on it. I guess I am just surprised how many people think they could never date someone because they are "out of their league".

I guess I don't really agree...I never have. I'm not saying that people will always be attracted to everyone (that, I know for sure, is not true), but I think "leagues" have a lot more to do with confidence than attractiveness. Case in point: there are plenty of popular people who are unattractive to most (ex: Mick Jagger--yum, not!) and there are tons of loners who are beautiful.

So, before you go out and ask that Hawaiian tropic model for her number and then blame me for her turning you down ("Katie said that leagues don't matter!"), hear me out. Signals and chemistry are still a must--I just think that you shouldn't rule out ANYONE before you've met them because you assume they'd never like you--you might be surprised. We see ourselves from such a warped lens and not everyone is tuned to that same frequency...sometimes they see the you that you try to hide from the world or they feel super comfortable around your quirkiness.

Or maybe I'm just crazy and arrogant because I feel I'm just as good as anybody else and I don't see any person on this earth as out of my league....

Anyone brave enough to share thoughts on this? :P

Today I got hit in the head...

with a red crayon. My favorite little kid in my Kindergarten class threw it at top speed at my forehead. I think he will have a career in baseball...only he swears it was supposed to fly into my hand. Oh, okay. So maybe no career then--just a life of juvenile delinquency. It narrowly missed my blue eyes and I narrowly missed his throat as I attempted to strangle him. Jk...don't think I didn't consider it...

We've also had 3 poopie pants accidents in 2 days--2 from the crayola chunker if you can believe that stretch. Someone buy me a drink...or some valium (halfway joking)...

B-I-N-G-O

Last night, I participated in an exhilarating event that makes your heart pound and your eyes water--Bingo. Down at the bingo hall, the smoky atmosphere calls you in, but be warned: it is harder than you think.

Imagine 3 college grads with quizzical faces and lots of laughter...that sets the stage for last night. Finally, we figured out how to play (don't laugh--YOU try it!) and had a blast. It is fast-paced, disappointing, hilarious, and it only lasts an hour. I have found my new hobby...kidding, kidding!

Seriously, it was funny to be having trouble "getting" the games and look over to see the 10 year old dabbing away with a diet coke in one hand and her ink dauber in the other!

Oh, Kindergarten

This is the third week of teaching Kindergarten and I woke up this morning with a bit of drudgery. Some might call it depression.

By the end of the day today, I thought, 'What the heck was I thinking when I wanted to change grade levels last year??!!' I must have been smoking crack the day I made that decision.

I am hoping that it gets better, or I will be planning an early retirement...to a mental institution.

Did you know that 3 boys--all age 5--can get simultaneously sent to the office from the library? They were jumping off of chairs...um, more than once. Thankfully, I was not there or my early retirement might have been to a different kind of institution. LOL

The Picture I Could've Taken

Last weekend, I went to see Kelly Clarkson in concert at Smirnoff in Dallas. It totally rocked and she has an amazing voice and show...

I didn't bring my camera in because I didn't know if I could and I left my phone in the car to make it stress-free inside. Sarah and I mosied to our seats and I think mine were some of the worst in the whole place. We were in seats, but out of the cool overhang that shields the sun and fans you. We were spitting distance from the lawn seats (which were like 20 dollars cheaper I might add) and on the very dead center aisle so that all the camera men and women blocked my view. We had to stand the whole time anyway because the lawn peeps kept standing in the aisle, so as you can tell, I had some of the worst seats. I was thankful that I didn't drag in my camera for this crap seat, let me tell ya.

Well, the show was incredible and she sang "Walk Away" as her final song before disappearing behind the curtain. Let me back up...by this time, the camera men had moved back some and set up barricades to COMPLETELY block my view of the stage, but I just listened to her sing without watching the show. So, as we are waiting for the encore song, people started leaving from my section and a few were moving in some. Sarah and I moved closer and boom! Up pops Kelly on a platform 3 feet from me. She said she wanted to give the crappy seat people a chance to be on front row (or something like that--I was still in shock). She sang "Breakaway" to us (or rather, the guy in front of me sang it to her...he actually distracted her by his loud voice and camera in her face) and then the concert was over. It was amazing! If I had my camera (I learned my lesson), this is the picture I would've taken...for now I'll just borrow someone else's picture who actually thought ahead.

A Life Remembered...in an Igloo

I meant to write this on July 14--so back up a week in your mind as you read this post.

I drove to Mississippi alone this time to be with my grandparents and my aunt on what would've been my dad's birthday. It has been six years, but sometimes it is like it was yesterday. Only I've cried enough tears for it to be twenty. My job on this trip was to visit with the relatives and spend the day with my dad's sister on his birthday. This time of year is hard because July 15th (the day after) was the day her other brother died a few years ago. And last year, her final brother passed away as well.

So, my grandfather's wishes are to have all 3 of his sons buried with him, so it was my job this year to "pick out my dad's box" for his ashes. I was sure that I would be fine, seeing as how I cried an ocean of tears on the beach in Nice, France last year. Side note...Bastille Day in France shares the same date as my dad's birthday, so it felt wrong to celebrate last year on such an emotional day. It was a huge release. So, I was up for the task this year, especially if it meant that my grandfather didn't have to do it himself.

My aunt and I started the day by eating at the Carriage house of an antebellum home in Natchez, and I thoroughly enjoyed the Southern meal (you know...a fried green tomato, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, greens, buttered biscuits, custard with praline sauce, and a chocolate tart--yeah, it's alot of food). I then toured another antebellum home and it was my favorite that I have ever seen.

When we finally went to the funeral home, we asked the husky southern man if they had any boxes to hold ashes. He said, "We have urns." I said, "Well, we really don't need an urn, just a decorative box." He said, "Well, I'll tell ya what works waell...some people have used dem igloo ais (ice) containers ta hold ashes een (in)...they work really nais (nice) for dogs an' cats an' such..."

I shot a bewildered look at my aunt and she read the words before they had to grace my lips. I was thinking, "Should I tell him that this box is for my dad and not for Muffy the cat or should you?" My aunt plastered a huge smile on her face and held back her chuckle as she blurted out, "Thank you sir, we will look elsewhere. Have a nice day!" We got up to leave and you could tell he thought the world of himself, thinking he had just saved us a ton of time and money. It was downright hilarious! My aunt and I laughed for the rest of the day...it seemed appropriate on my dad's birthday.

He was one of the funniest people I have ever known...here's to a life remembered. (With or without the igloo ais chaest)

28...or 8?

Well, I just celebrated my 28th birthday last week. It was good, but like any other day, I suppose. The main difference is that you don't have to feel guilty about wanting to be the center of attention. It's allowed (even encouraged without question or ridicule for this one 24 hour period)...

My sister has been in town and I haved loved every minute of it! I adore her and she "gets" me completely (she better, after 28 years!). She even made me my favorite cupcakes--strawberry cake and strawberry icing--for those who care to know. I felt like I was 8 again, actually.

But there is another reason why I felt 8 again instead of 28 and it all came rushing back to me when she came to town. For some reason, sisters so close in age bring a huge amount of insecurity with them. If you don't believe me...ask the group of women who have sisters that I have talked to lately . I am even considering starting a club--maybe we could call ourselves "Sisterhood of the Time Traveling Insecurity"--cuz that's how we feel. For those of you who have been hanging out with us, don't freak. It's not something you said or did--it's me and it's history. All the 8 year old competition comes back, rearing its ugly head to ruin our sisterhood and friendship. I fight and fight and I feel that the Lord protects my favorite relationship on earth, but I have to constantly fight for it nonetheless. I won't go into detail, but it stems from years of looking like someone, having a similar sense of humor, and having them shine in the areas where you are weak. It is a natural insecurity vacuum...I would even say inevitable. But, as I get older, it is almost harder to fight against and I'm not sure why. Anyway, as I was bawling my eyes out this week about it, the Lord spoke to my heart through a decal on a car window in front of me. Stay with me here...

The image was a semi-normal outstretched hand that was reaching toward me. As your eye traced up the arm, you noticed that the hand belonged to a faceless "devil" with a black crow on its shoulder. The image invoked a little fear, but mostly curiosity. Why didn't it have a face? The following is what I later wrote down in my journal about how God spoke into my insecurity:

"It was at this point that I realized what I have been following. By looking only at the hand of temptation [insert your own here--mine at the moment was insecurity, but could be something else on any given day], I failed to see who's hand it was that I was taking. I am walking right into the grasp of evil. He [the devil, Satan, evil...whatever you call him] does not snatch us up like we'd love to believe he does, but we willingly go. Taking his hand, we are easily led astray like a naiive child to a stranger dangling candy--a tangible representation of temptation. I always wonder how a child can be so blind to not see the danger. Am I any different? Only difference is that my stranger has many faces, but his spirit is a familiar one, almost like an old friend you know you should stay away from. Every new face of my old "friend" fools me because I look no further than his outstretched hand at that moment of weakness. Currently, I'm listening to Caedmon's Call's, 'We must dance, dance, dance...dance in God's honor/We must yield all our steps unto the King.'

I think this is the only way I can throw the candy back into the stranger's face...scream, and run away."

Anybody else feel this way?

Perspective

I thought I would be more excited to post about Africa. Truth is...I'm not. No offense, but I almost feel that putting it into words will cheapen the experience somehow. It's like being really excited about how you got this new job and then going to tell a friend who, in the middle of your story, gets distracted and then never turns the conversation back to your story. Do you let it go and eat your disappointment? Or, do you bring it back up and watch them muster excitement for an already fading moment in time? Although no one has been like that with me (yet), I don't want a life-changing experience to receive that kind of homecoming.

And, I will have to do it Sunday for church. I have wrestled with what to say--in 3 1/2 minutes, no less--to a congregation of people who intellectually and spiritually know that the trip was awesome, but can't relate because there is no way to "be there" with us--despite an incredible movie (thanks, Piatt) and 600 pictures of mine (They are a week away from being posted online, comments and all). God did amazing stuff in Africa, but it wasn't because of me. Wow, pause for the deflation of my ego. In fact, I think I was on the Kenyans' "mission trip", if that makes sense. They amazed me daily and the more I read about Africa in the news, the more I believe Americans should get involved--not to help them, but so that they can somehow help us.


I think the number one thing that I brought back with me was perspective. Who cares about manicures when everyone has red mud caked in their fingernails from digging a hole with a stick? Who cares about frizzy curls or highlights when your hair has been washed with a sponge bath and your scalp is peeling from the hot sun? Who cares about whether my chai has the right "water to tea ratio" when I am eating a fried egg-peanut butter-jelly-and tomato sandwich and a hot fanta for lunch everyday (that was star treatment if you can believe it)? Who even said you get to eat everyday?

I am not saying that I abandoned my luxuries completely as soon as I got home. I don't necessarily think that is the appropriate response. I guess I just stopped complaining about them. I think the best way to find out about Africa is to go. Not only on a safari, but to interact, and to love. I don't feel sorry for Africa--I feel empowered. I kind of think they should feel sorry for us.

I Kissed a Girl

Ok, now that I got your attention--her name was Daisy. She was taller than the building and she helped me live out my dream of "kissing" a giraffe. (Ok, so more like feeding them with your mouth while they lick your entire face with their humongous, blue, sandpaper-feeling tongue. A dream fulfilled, nevertheless.)

We are back from Africa and I am finally ready to post something. Not really--more will come. I have so much, but I am waiting for the words to catch up with my heart. When they do, I'll let you know all about it. I will probably be posting about Africa for months. Hope you want to hear...

By the way, the foot picture had to be thrown in--not just because I love feet, but because I wanted you to see one day's dirt mixed with a week of equatorial sun. Most of it is dirt though (I know, right?). Sponge baths by candlelight aren't the easiest way to clean your dirty self!

More to come, I promise...

TAKS torture

Introducing the newest form of torture: TAKS (the dreaded "TEST" that keeps upper elementary school kids from passing if they fail it. If too many pass it, they make it harder and more unpredictable the next year...and the next...pretty soon, first graders will need a master's degree to advance to 2nd)

Today was the grumpiest day I've had this year at school. I'll give you the setting...
It's a cold, wet, drizzly day with 19 first graders (one dropped off at 8:15 today due to fever--of course, not the RIGHT one). Yesterday was indoor recess and a 'modified' schedule (sure to make any kid bonkers) for the upper elementary. Today starts off with my immediate shushing and snapping to get the 19 youngsters in line and silent. I mutter grumblings under my breath as I clear the sleep from my eyes. "Should I have stayed up that late?" I wonder. In walks the TAKS monitor telling me to keep my class quieter because they can 'hear us clear out in the hall'. I think we accidentally breathed in unison and created a loud sigh. Oops.

I rebuked my 'kids' in a strained whisper and gave an eye roll to really "communicate" my frustration with them. This continues all day until lunch. A jumper here...a knee hitting the floor there...each time, more rebuke as a sly smile crosses his face. "Will Miss Brown really blow steam out of her ears if I do it again? Or was that just a frustrated, ridiculous threat?" This goes on for hours.

After we walk down the hall in complete silence (all the while perfecting my 'evil teacher eye' with one student after another), I go for my 15 minute lunch break, only to find out that all the 'TAKS' teachers get a catered free lunch from an upscale place. All year they press us K, 1, and 2 teachers to "take the test seriously because we are TAKS teachers as much as the rest"--until the rubber meets the road, I see. At least the coke machine gave me an extra coke today...it knew it was about to meet its death for taking my money yesterday if it did it again.

There they are...19 little pairs of eyes, back in my room. They had to have a 'silent lunch' due to the test, so they are excited about recess. No recess, the TAKS gods say. No special areas either. That equals no bathroom for Miss Brown today. No rest from all the little questions and the massive amounts of shushing. Ahhh...Finding Nemo and an early release birthday pass for me. Salvation.

That chai tastes better today...I wonder why. I think I'm already feeling a cold coming on for TAKS day 2007.

Why I really SHOULD hate Valentine's Day

So, after writing yesterday, I was talking with a friend and reminiscing about Valentine's past. I couldn't quite remember why I loved the holiday so much, but I sure remembered a reason why I should hate it...here goes.

It was a sunny Valentine's Day in Mississippi. I was floating on air because I was a sassy 6th grader (the top of the school in Mississippi elementary schools, but no matter...). I finally started "going with" my longtime 5th/6th grade crush, Tad Doolittle (yes, that was his name--you'll see why in a minute). We changed classes in the hallway, along with 5th grade, and I anxiously awaited seeing him there because we had different homeroom classes. I wondered, "Will I finally get a card or rose this year?" I had never had a Valentine before. Oh, the anticipation.

There he was...scrawny, skinny, and lovely. Oh, so popular. He walked over to me with a rose in front of the whole upper elementary. Wow, so public a display! "This gets better and better," I thought. Everyone was watching as he handed me the rose...but, I noticed something wasn't right. The silk rose had been colored black with a marker. What's this? A note that read something to the effects of, "I don't want to spend Valentine's with you, Bucky!"

But, you're probably thinking...hey, your name is Katie. You may even be thinking, why did he call you Bucky? Funny you should ask. Well, at the time (before braces really started being slapped on at birth), I had extremely hidious buck teeth. [Please insert your thoughtful, "Wow, but your teeth look so hot NOW" comment, wink..wink] Darn that Tad Doolittle! He took a perfectly great holiday and potentially soiled it.

But I realized after I remembered the story with my friend that one "doolittle" can't wreck a day of the year when I celebrate and give thanks for the most important thing on earth...people and relationships.

It also helps to know that ol' Tad later went to prison for constructing a bomb or something. Poor guy. [conceal inappropriate laughter now]

My Funny Valentine

I will start by saying that I LOVE, LOVE Valentine's Day--I always have (although I am not sure why, because it's not like it has been spectacular my whole life). But, this year kinda blows. I just got back from my last uncle's (on my dad's side) funeral...I have no "prospect" to even crush over...and I had to cancel my Valentine's party because I was out of town for the funeral...oh, yeah, and I had to clean up raw sewage that had backed up in my shower last night around midnight. It's like all the dark forces of people who hate Valentine's Day are ganging up on me this year. Ugh!

My roommate said it well with this quote on her blog:
"I have enjoyed my singleness, but it's like being unemployed. It's easier to enjoy when you know when it will end."

So true. Well, I am here to have hope in Christ. As cheesy as it sounds to some people, He can be my Valentine--He's the most faithful one anyway. Also, I want to give props to my sister, best friend in PA, and my many friends who tell me (and show me) how much they care about me. Who said Valentine's was for couples?

Props

Upon further contemplation (and the checking of another friend's tag answers), I must give an addendum to my funniest people list. I would love to add my brother, Tyler, because he is a long-time laugh maker in my life (this, however, was not the person on the other friend's blog).

The person I forgot to mention as one of the funniest people in the world to me: Brian Regan. I was thinking only of people I knew, but man, I have probably never laughed as hard as the times I am either listening to him, quoting him, or re-hashing the whole Cd or DVD with my sister. Dag, is he funny!

I got Tagged

4 Books I am currently reading:
(They are really collecting dust for now, but I am mid-read)
1. Desiring God (John Piper)
2. Harry Potter (like #80 or something)
3. Having a Mary heart in a Martha World
4. The PH Miracle (a medical/health book)

4 Things I am learning:
1. Life and relationships are messy
2. Singleness is super fun when you have the right perspective
3. One can only truly give their hearts to a few solid people in life
4. Things are never as they seem; combined with God is more patient/merciful than I ever gave Him credit for

4 Celebrities I would love to have a date with:
1. Ewan Mcgregor (surprise, surprise)
2. Michael Vartan (ahhh...)
3. Jude Law (just for the eye candy and accent)
4. David Duchovny (smart & funny...you can't really go wrong with that!)

4 Jobs I'd like in the future:
1. Still Photographer for movies
2. Owner of a Tea House
3. World Traveler & Photographer...maybe write reviews for some cool magazine
4. Author/Illustrator of children's books (really, author of ANY book)

4 of my favorite clothing article that I would always pack on a trip:
(Depends on the place and time of year, so I'll go Europe in early March)
1. A hottie scarf
2. My J.Crew 'fit me perfect' jeans
3. Shane & Shane baby T
4. Cuddle Duds (like girls' long johns)

4 of my favorite drinks:
1. Starbucks--Tall Organic "Light on the Water" Chai Latte
2. Amaretto Sour
3. Freshly juiced Carrot, Red/Green Apple, Pear, Kiwi Juice
4. Pina Coladas

4 People that make me laugh:
(Wow, this is extremely hard to narrow down, cuz I think it is just about everyone...these are the ones that I shed 'laughter tears' on)
1. My sissie
2. My best friend, Amanda Hill
3. Ngofeen Mputubwele
4. David Grotheim

4tags:
1. Tammy
2. Quincy
3. Bethany Reese
4. Jennifer Pennington

On the Upswing

Things are looking better...heart mending from hurt...God is ultimately good in ALL situations and things...sister who claims she would marry me if I were a boy (in a totally non-creepy way)...friends who have stayed up late with me talking, listening, and giving sound advice (even when I don't believe it)...card from best friend with our hottie "girls with guns" look...Ohio boy (by that I mean man) giving me new perspective :P...leaders that challenge and care...apologies given and accepted...my mom listening and loving me for the emotional, verbally-processing person I am (thanks, mum!)...pink "princess" rock on my hand from a student to remind me...hope being restored...questions unanswered...heart okay with not having all the answers--sometimes ignorance truly is "bliss"...my heart learning how to guard appropriately and draw boundaries, not bitterness...new roommate who "gets" me...I could go on and on, so I won't.

Pawn

Have you ever felt like a pawn? Trust me...it leaves a disgusted feeling in the pit of your stomach.