About Me

Hey there! I'm a twenty-three year old Jesus follower, and this blog is to record all of the goings-on in my life within the next months. I recently broke both of my legs, and feel God leading me to tell my story - a story of redemption and grace, of hope and pain, of excitment and fear. May you be deeply blessed as you read. Shalom!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Community.

I want to apologize for my snarky comments about snow yesterday.  I realized this afternoon that I was a little bit bitter about the fact that I can't go out and play in it.  When I looked out into our backyard this morning and saw the five-foot drift (no joke) against our fence, I so longed to just dig a huge hole into it for a snow fort.  Building snow forts is something I will never be too old for, and I have to admit my sadness at not being able to do it yet.

One of the things that I did, however, get to enjoy about the snow today was watching my family, and our neighbors work together.  It was on the news even - (not my family, but) a large population of people helping one another with the massive amounts of snow.  It brought a sense of community, and a way for people to serve one another.  It was cool to see in action.  There were three or four teens out front helping my parents dig out of the snow, and move it from one place to the next.  It was cool to see.

There is this small group series called "Doing Life Together", and whenever I think of the idea of community, I think of that - doing life together.  Community is kind of a buzz word right now - what does it really mean?  What does it mean to do life with other people?  In my mind, it starts with the people that immediately surround us, the people that we encounter regularly, the people that we brush shoulders with.  How we treat them, and how we bless them, and how we respond to them - those are the things that draw me to other people, and the things I want to be better at doing.  What I have learned is that power really lies in the day-to-day interactions.  For example, the willingness to take an extra 15 minutes to help shovel someone's driveway, or taking time to really listen after asking someone, "How are you?" 

When I was living in Milwaukee with a wonderful family that is committed to living in community, one of the things I was most challenged by was doing the dishes.  It's so funny because everyone thinks that communal living is this grandiose thing, but no one ever wants to do the dishes.  Living in community is quite simple: think often of others, and live generously & simply.  Like Jesus.

There is an amazing number of ways to bless people around you, right?  Doing the dishes without being asked, making meal for others in a busy week, listening well, no matter how busy you are, praying for others, giving up that really great parking space, sending a letter just because you love someone, smiling at the grumpy checkout person...these things are a great start, right?  But choosing those things sometimes becomes difficult for me because I'm so focused on myself, my schedule, my routine, my lack of routine...it's amazing how distracted I can become.  How self-focused I can be. 

The word "together" is mentioned 387 times in the Bible, according to my good friend BibleGateway.com.  I just think that that fact is such a tribute to how God designed us to live: together.  I'm thankful that by being surrounded by others, I become less focused on myself.  I'm thankful that God has placed so many encouraging people in my life.  I'm thankful for my neighbors and their willingness to serve.  I'm thankful that one gigantic snowstorm can bring the word "community" to fruition. 

Puzzle.

My mom and I worked ferociously on a puzzle this evening.  Water Lilies I by Claude Monet.  Pretty artsy fartsy if you ask me - I love it.  I never really realized how much this painting influenced the home color choices of most homes in the nineties.  Teal, pink, gray, and green baby.  It's where it's at.

Anyway, I kept laughing because my dogs kept sniffing and sniffing at the puzzle pieces.  I tell you, they eye each piece up for a snack.  What is it about bite-size pieces of paper?  I have six pieces missing in my bird puzzle that I just finished - there were eight missing until I (and by "I", I mean my mom) found two semi-chewed up pieces under the couch.  Those dogs.  I was so mad at them for, like, a week.  I've moved on now, and I decided to puzzle-glue my puzzle anyway.  I'm gonna frame it even though it has holes.  I think it gives it character.  See:

Of course you have to look hard in the picture.  Go figure.
You can tell in real life.  Trust me.  You can tell.

I bet right about now you are surprised I'm not talking about the snow outside, and you may even be thinking about how dorky I am to be working on so many puzzles.  Well, friend.  Snow is snow.  It's going to turn to the color of poop in 1.65 weeks, and in four, it will melt away.  That's what snow does.  And, as far as the puzzle-mania goes, I'm still in a wheelchair, in case you didn't know.  Puzzles are fun, they work your brain, and they teach you about life.  "What?", you ask?   Yes.  They teach you about life.  I suppose snow teaches you about life too, but I'm going with puzzles tonight.

You see, I have had the opportunity to work on many a puzzle in the last couple of months, and I have learned a lot about myself in the process.  I have learned about how quickly I give up on something.  When the going got tough in the midst of that puzzle, I start getting really frustrated, and talking negatively.  "Oh my gosh.  Did they make this piece right?  Ugh.  This is so stupid, I can't believe I'm wasting my time on this.  Why won't you guys help me with this dumb thing?!  DOGS!  Get AWAY!"  Then I would find a piece, and it urged me forward.  It's ridiculous, but I'm pretty sure I do that in real life too.  I also learning that I'm really not okay with something being open-ended.  I thought I was, but I wanted to finish the puzzle immediately.  In my mind that thing was going to take me five hours, tops.  Well.  That bird puzzle?  It took me a good 25 hours to complete.  There was no rushing it.  And I worked really hard to protect it.  It's a picture on top of paper for goodness sakes!  But I had a goal in mind, and I was going to get that puppy done.  Until my puppy ate one.

Then I was mad.

It turned everything upside down!  I was mad because I had invested so much time into something, and in one little chomp, my expectations about what the puzzle was going to look like were ruined.  I couldn't find the piece, first of all, and I spend a lot of time looking and looking for it.  It wasn't there!  So I kept going, and sure enough, it had magically disappeared.  To make matters worse, there wasn't even any nutritional value for the dog!  My choices were either to stop working on it or keep on going in the hopes of finishing.

This is an illustration for my life.  Not just in the breaking of my legs part, but the breaking of my expectations.  I have talked a little bit about the pain I've endured (which is so minute compared to so many other people) within the last year, specifically with teaching.  But only a little bit because I'm still processing it, amazingly enough.  And I have nothing to complain about.  I wouldn't change a thing.  Seriously.  I have an overwhelming amount to be thankful for, and I try to express that to God.  I start to get frustrated when I lose sight of the big picture, when I lose focus on Who I'm living for.  I had/have expectations for my life, and I didn't realize how much pressure I had put on myself for so long.  The puzzle showed me!  I want to to finish fast.  To not get frustrated.  To not fail.  To do well, and to do well the first time.  To have a beautiful finished project.  Notice any similarities between a certain puzzle and a certain you know who?

My life is so full of missing little gaps, and chewed up pieces.  I've tried so hard to fit them together, look for different patterns, move pieces around that were pushing others out.  As I work, I stand back and look at the big picture.  So much of it is incomplete, and for some reason, that irks me.  But you know what?  It causes me to look into the face of my Father.  And to stand back, and just be still.  Be in awe.  It's so hard for me to find the beauty in a puzzle with so many missing pieces.

What I'm most thankful for is that God is so gentle with me.
He is such a loving dad.
He knows what I need before I even take inventory.

Jesus says in Matthew 11:29:  "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

The God that sees the intricate design of each snowflake that fell today, and the ones that are yet to fall - the ones broken by a gust of wind, or melted from the body heat of a girl wheeling into a health clinic, or melted by someone who is freezing cold tonight, the flakes piled up in a gigantic massive mound somewhere in the Midwest right now (the four-foot pile against my house) - he sees each of those flakes.  And how much more are his people worth than flakes?  You are worth infinitely more than flakes, friend.  I have to tell myself that all the time: "You are worth so much more than flakes, Catie."  (Maybe I will sneak some snow in... : )

Because I can't get over the fact that I'm invited in.  Into his presence.  Into his plan.  Into his embrace.  That I can learn from him, that I'm allowed to see things through His lens - it's overwhelmingly wonderful.  He just envelops me with his arms, and with his light & warmth.  He is so gentle with me.  I can't tell you how often I come to him at my wits end because I'm so frustrated.  Because I'm just mad.  Because I don't understand.  Because the pieces aren't fitting where I want them to go.  And that's not say that I don't come to him in thanksgiving or in worship or in joy - that's is so important as well.

What I'm contemplating tonight is the fact that even though so many pieces are still vacant in my life because of the steps (literally and figuratively) I haven't taken yet, he knows what the big picture is going to look like.  I still have to take the steps, and sometimes that is in and of itself what trips me up.  But I can find rest because He was the artist at the very beginning; his design never fails.