September 11, 2011 

It’s common knowledge that ten years ago, on September 11, 2001, cowards attacked our nation. I was in art class when the planes hit. I was in science class when the towers fell. It didn’t make much sense at the time, as many teachers were instructed not to let students see the televisions. The principal came on air and explained what had happened, but it didn’t sink in. I was ten, and couldn’t wait to see my friends at lunch.

I came home and saw my mom glued to the television. I saw the news as well- the planes hitting the towers, the Pentagon smouldering, and a blackened field in Pennsylvania, but it didn’t click. I saw the devastation on the television, read it in the newspaper headlines and magazines, and heard it on the radio, but it didn’t sink in to my mind like it should have. It was like reading about the Titanic.

In all honesty, it wasn’t until I had the honor of visiting Ground Zero a little over a year and a half after the attacks that its severity hit home. Countless names who fought against the terrorists by digging through the rubble to save lives while risking theirs were listed. The signs which listed the names of the dead seemed to cover the length of the block.

The memories that I formed from the tragedy of September 11 are not those of men and women jumping from the 95th floor of the World Trade Center, the smell of death, or the fear of another attack. These memories were ingrained from countless newscasts and history lessons throughout the past decade.

I had the blessing of viewing our nation’s worst attack through the eyes of a child. Rather than the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, I remember our nation standing in unity. I remember firemen collecting money to fill the ambulance with extra supplies before they headed to Ground Zero. I remember flags on every porch. I idolized the men and women on Flight 93. I recognized the significance of men and women joining the military and fighting for my freedom. Most importantly, I remember learning the true cost of my freedoms and what it truly mean to be an American citizen.

Today, I view September 11 in a new light. When I see the footage of black smoke rushing through the streets of NYC, hear recorded shrieks of those fearing death, watch men and women chose their fate and jumped from the World Trade Center, and the smouldering field in Pennsylvania, my stomach turns, my heart drops, and chills encase my body. It is the men and women who worked so hard to evacuate the buildings and search through the rubble that bring ease my heart, and comfort my nerves.

The terrorist attacks in New York City, Washington, D.C., and Shanksville, Pennsylvania affected not only our country, but our world. It is our nation’s resilience to these attacks- the men and women who ran into the burning buildings to save co-workers, those on Flight 93 who gave their lives to save others, men and women who lined up to donate blood and raise funds to help with recovery efforts, the soldiers who were willing to act on difficult commands by their officers that day, and the men and women who are serving overseas today which makes me proud to be an American.

Self Abuse

I’ve realized recently that I still have leaps and bounds to go before I can say that I’ve recovered from self injury. Who knew that cutting was a gateway drug? It has lead to binging, purging, scratching through layers of skin, forbidding myself to take medicine when necessary, and so many other things. I’ve denied myself opportunities to succeed and programmed my mind to produce negative thoughts. Even though I don’t smoke or drink, I’ve done just as much (if not more) damage to myself.

It’s embarrassing to think that I’ve allowed myself to live the past five years of my life like this. Keep in mind, that I’ve slowly turned away from self injury and abuse, but it takes time for the damage to fade and my body to heal. I’m so ready to be done hating myself. It’s time to look in the mirror and not be repulsed by what I see. It’s time to stop defining myself by my successes and failures.

I know that this is not an easy road. But I know it’s one I won’t have to face alone. All my life, I’ve been surrounded by people who love me. I’ve got people who love me for me, who want to see me healthy and want to see me succeed.

I hear that anorexia is a life long battle. I think that the same thought processes that come with anorexia accompany self-injury and binge/purging. I guess that this will be a life long battle, but here’s to day one. To fighting negative thoughts and the desire to mar my body. Here’s to reclaiming God’s creation and living a healthy life.

Here’s to restoration.

Father's Day

I always find myself filled with mixed emotions on days like today. Holidays that celebrate our families often bring up bad memories and heartache. I know in my head that I'm supposed to forgive, but sometimes the hatred that I've allowed to fester inside my heart controls my thoughts. This is a battle I'm always fighting to win. It's a tool satan uses to take me down quickly. It's how I succumb to my earthly wishes.

Thankfully God is continuing to break down the concrete walls I've built up around my heart and is freeing me from the hatred that has coursed through my veins. The road towards forgiveness is not easy, but I can testify that it is worth the grueling work. There are days when I'm sick of fighting to control my emotions, but I know I never want to go back to living a life dictated by hatred and depression.

This video nearly had me in tears as I felt my embraced by my Daddy's loving arms. I know I'll never have idyllic childhood memories of a father. It's moments like this where I'm filled with His presence that make my heart long for the day when I can sing, dance, and laugh with my heavenly Father on streets of gold. 

For now, I wait, with a thankful heart to have friends who remind me of His love for me.

Mother's Day

Mother's day has always been a hard holiday to celebrate. I've never had a close relationship with my Mom, and sometimes it seems like each day adds new strain. There is a lot that factors into this, but Her bipolar disorder plays a strong role. It's probably stating the obvious, but the way she treats me is dependent on Her mood. I realized today that the way I love her is reflective of how she treats me. Obviously, this is NOT love. God has revealed this to me in several ways, but verse 4 through 13 of 1 Corinthians 13 has been my greatest "resource": 

No matter what I say, what I believe and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up. Love cares for others more than for self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut. Doesn't have a swelled head, doesn't force itself on others, isn't always "me first". It doesn't fly off the handle, doesn't keep score of the sins of others, doesn't reveal when others grovel, it takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, Puts up with anything, Trusts God always, Always looks for the best, Never looks back, but keeps going until the end.

         Love never dies. (The Message) 

I don't know about you, but that passage wrecked me. All this time, I told myself that I loved my mom, but the sad truth is that I really didn't. I would be loving towards my mom if she was in an upswing. I would always take into consideration of how she had treated me that morning, or what she might had said to me the prior night. This was two strikes in one: Love doesn't keep score of the sins of others and it puts up with anything. I was more concerned with my feelings than loving her. Boy, does that sound self absorbed or what? 

When we would spend time together and she'd get upset about something, I'd be wishing that God had given me a "normal" mom like my friends had. Strike two: Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Strike three? Love never gives up. I'm ashamed to think of the times I've walked away from a conversation with my Mom because I couldn't deal with her craziness at the moment. 

After writing this, I realized a couple of things. I guess hadn't realized that I  have been a self-absorbed brat. But most importantly, if I am not loving my own Mom the way God has commanded me to love, how am I treating everyone else I come into contact with?!? 

Today my Pastor spoke about how we are to honor our mothers and fathers. This isn't something that God said to do because He thought it was a good idea-it's one of His commandments! 

I know that there are tough days to come with my Mom,  but I now will be facing them with a new mind set and a fresh pair of days. With God's view of love towards my Mom, I believe-actually, I know-that we will be able to mend our relationship. Over the years, I have found comfort in knowing that God will never forsake me even if the whole world abandons me. This isn't something I'm making up-we are told this multiple times in the Bible. It blows my mind to know that God's love is the epitome of the love discussed in 1 Corinthians. He loves us so much that He sent His Son to die for our sins. God's love never fails.

 

Day 3:Life

So many things are happening at this moment it’s ridiculous. Cray Cray doesn’t even come close to describing it. I shared that I am in the process of applying for YWAM and I’m going to follow through with that. On Monday I received a possible job offer that would start in the fall that is 100% in line with my passion of serving God by working with teenagers. I’m not sure which path I’m supposed to take. I know that God told me to apply to YWAM, so I’m going to apply to YWAM, but what if I’m supposed to stay here? It’s so frustrating/nerve racking/exciting/scary, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be living my life in the months to come.

I have about a month left of living where I am before I have to find somewhere else to live and I know that I have to give all of my life to God. I don’t know why I am okay-ish in giving Him my future plans and dreams, but not in giving Him my present life. I do know that I am supposed to surrender my past, present, and future to Him. So often I tell myself that I am giving everything to God, but I hold on to a few bits of my life. I’m not sure why. The things which I try to keep are only pieces to the puzzle, which cannot be separated from the other pieces or it cannot be completed. If I can’t give all the parts to God, I’ll never see the masterpiece. I know this. I guess I just need to start trusting in Him more than I have before and start surrendering to Him. I challenged my teens tonight to stop being lukewarm, and I guess this is where I stop being lukewarm myself.

Day two: Double Dose


I don’t know about you, but I’m really good at complaining.  Sometimes there are situations where it is appropriate to complain, like when you receive poor service at a restaurant,  or you disagree with your elected officials. Unfortunately most of my complaining comes in the form of whining, especially when God doesn’t answer my prayers they way I expect.  Lately I’ve been complaining about how it seems like my life is not the one God promised me, or what I thought He would have promised.  As I was doing my devotions this week, I discovered that my outlook on life was similar to that of the Israelites as they were wandering in the desert.

I had to go back a few chapters to read the background since it’s been a while since I’ve heard the story of Moses and the Israelites, but I learned that God led them by a cloud. At some point in their journey, God entered the cloud and heard the complaints of the Israelites. The adjectives tired and hungry don’t even begin to describe how they were feeling, but those were some of their complaints. God decided to give them the food that they needed, and used it as an opportunity to see if the Israelites were truly following His commands. Exodus 16 tells us how it went down.

“God said to Moses, “I’m going to rain bread down from the skies for you. The people will go out and gather each day’s ration. I’m going to test them to see if they’ll live according to my Teaching or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they have gathered, it will turn out to be twice as much as their daily ration…
That evening quail flew in and covered the camp and in the morning there was a layer of dew all over the camp. When the layer of dew had lifted, there on the wilderness ground was a fine flaky something, fine as frost on the ground. The Israelites took one look and said to one another, man-hu (What is it?). They had no idea what it was.So Moses told them, “It’s the bread God has given you to eat. And these are God’s instructions: ‘Gather enough for each person, about two quarts per person; gather enough for everyone in your tent.’”
The People of Israel went to work and started gathering, some more, some less, but when they measured out what they had gathered, those who gathered more had no extra and those who gathered less weren’t short—each person had gathered as much as was needed.
Moses said to them, “Don’t leave any of it until morning.”  But they didn’t listen to Moses. A few of the men kept back some of it until morning. It got wormy and smelled bad. (Verses 4-5, 13-20, The Message.)

At this point in the story, Moses is ticked! The Israelites ask God to provide , yet they still disobey His commands even though He has provided so much! It was this part of the story that hit home with me. There have been countless times that God has provided for me, and instead of thanking Him, I’ve slapped Him in the face. Rather than being content with what the creator of the universe has provided, I know I’ve complained that it wasn’t enough and sought after that second helping of blessings. Here’s my favorite part of the story-God still shows His love and provides! Check it out:

Moses said, “This is God’s command: ‘Keep a two-quart jar of it, an omer, for future generations so they can see the bread that I fed you in the wilderness after I brought you out of Egypt.’”Moses told Aaron, “Take a jar and fill it with two quarts of manna. Place it before God, keeping it safe for future generations.”
Aaron did what God commanded Moses. He set it aside before The Testimony to preserve it.
The Israelites ate the manna for forty years until they arrived at the land where they would settle down. They ate manna until they reached the border into Canaan. (Verses 32-35, The Message.)

Too often I find myself complaining when I can’t see how life’s chapters are going to end. Like the Israelites, I want God to meet my needs instantly. My desire for instantaneous blessings often causes me to miss out on the gifts God has already given me. I think part of this comes from living in a culture that seeks instant gratification. As Christians we are called to stand apart from our world, and this is just one part of that. I hope that you are able to see how God has poured His blessings into your life, even in the midst of trying times.

Day One: An Introduction. 

"Protein shakes are for the weak. I just shove a bunch of meat into a blender and drink it."

I know I did an introduction already on here, and it's lame/cliche, but forgive me. I've been up since 5:30 and have T-minus 42 minutes to get this thing up on the internet so I'm not behind on the first day. (EEK!) To be honest, this post is probably a decent representation of my time management skills. If it's not a life or death task/ responsibility and something that's more fun comes up, I choose the more fun option. Example: Tonight I  chose to go to a local college with some of the teens from Ignite for an open gym night and it was a blast. The speaker was a local pastor, and he was PHENOMENAL. His brief message was about how our experiences right now are preparing us for future ministry opportunities. Also: I love that he emphasized so much on the fact that God loves everyone, no matter their past.

Now you've learned two important facts about me: I procrastinate and I'm really good at rambling. I think I've already mentioned in previous posts about my passion for Jesus and plan to spend my life working with teens in some fashion. 

I got lost finding my way to the temporary employment service that I started with today. I ended up in a seriously seedy part of town. Are you doubting its seediness? I was at that point of frustration where I believed that I was going to miss my meeting when I saw a gas station about half a block away. My relief was temporary-as I neared the gas station, I discovered that it hadn't been one for a while and had been replaced by a limo rental service/ drug dealer hangout. Let's just say I picked up my pace and headed back to my starting place to get a fresh perspective. Oh, and some guy seriously started that I'mgonnamugyouwalk, you know the one where they're walking a totally normal pace and then they notice you and they start walking super quickly. Yeah. Thankfully I wasn't mugged!

What else is there to say? Hmmmm...I start a new job on Monday. That should be fun. I also have a slight tumblr addiction, but I figure I'm not the only one. I also post on Saturdays on a blog called Stones on Our Path. My posts make more sense there. 

I honestly can't think of anything else to say, so with three minutes to spare I say farewell!

PS: I'm not allowed to post titles. Does anyone know how to fix this? 

The Pain of Growing Up. 

So I’ve been looking for a job for a long time. A LOOOOONG time. Today I finally got a call from a local temp agency letting me know that they have a job for me that can start on Monday. Which is awesome. It’s totally an answer to prayer. But here’s the thing-I have to stop volunteering at the K-5 program I help with on Wednesday afternoons. This honestly breaks my heart.  I have a group of nine kids and we are totally at that part in the school year where we all mesh and get along. Three of my kids have memorized enough verses to get a t-shirt! And the others are SO CLOSE. I’ll have to leave them with no notice if I take this job.

Wild Wednesday is not one of those things that I do because I feel like I need to make a better resume, or fill up my time while I’m waiting for the next thing in life. It’s one of my passions. These kids LOVE Jesus. The kids who aren’t Christians love Jesus and they don’t even realize it. It is amazing to see God working through this ministry. We have a huge group of kids that attend the program. Awesome doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 I know that taking this job will give me new opportunities to witness and I’ll still have Ignite in the evening, and Fab Friday events once a month, but still my heart is breaking. I don’t want to be the person who forsakes their passions to make a buck. However, I do need to leave this house and have a place of my own and be able to support myself. It’s the worst catch 22 I’ve ever experienced.

Oh life, why do you have to be so complicated?

BEDA

So here's the dealio: people on the interwebz are talking about Blog Every Day in April (BEDA). I'm going to participate. I'm not sure how it will end. Part of me sees a disaster in the forecast, but the other part of me thinks I'm up for the challenge. Stay tuned for another episode of Katy doesn't know what to write about!

Here's to hoping I make my blog posts earlier in the day when my brain isn't so drained!

Conviction

Matthew 25:31-46

The Sheep and the Goats

 "When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left. "Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what's coming to you in this kingdom. It's been ready for you since the world's foundation. And here's why:

   I was hungry and you fed me,
   I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
   I was homeless and you gave me a room,
   I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
   I was sick and you stopped to visit,
   I was in prison and you came to me.'
"Then those 'sheep' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?' Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.'
 "Then he will turn to the 'goats,' the ones on his left, and say, 'Get out, worthless goats! You're good for nothing but the fires of hell. And why? Because—

   I was hungry and you gave me no meal,
   I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
   I was homeless and you gave me no bed,
   I was shivering and you gave me no clothes,
   Sick and in prison, and you never visited.'
"Then those 'goats' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or homeless or shivering or sick or in prison and didn't help?'
"He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.'
"Then those 'goats' will be herded to their eternal doom, but the 'sheep' to their eternal reward."

Reading these verses, and watching this video God has convicted me so much. I can’t tell you the number of times that I’ve been so sarcastic to people I’ve never met before in my life. I can’t tell you the number of hurtful ways I’ve cut people apart for no reason whatsoever. I don’t know who I need to apologize to, but I’m going to apologize to whoever I need to. From this day on, I will be searching for the hungry, the thirsty, the broken, those in need of love.


As a Christian, my testimony is more than a paragraph about the steps that brought me to accepting Christ into my life- it’s how I live my life. It is my duty to love everyone unconditionally, no matter the cost. I don’t get to focus on my dreams or desires. I don’t live in a city where people sit on street corners begging for food. I do live in one of the most impoverished counties in New York. I cross paths with people who have to choose between buying fuel to heat their homes and food to feed their children. I have so many blessings in my life and so many ways that I can use them to bless others. I pray God can bring opportunities to love unconditionally.

Flight School

Author's Note: The following is a poem I wrote about a year ago. I was reading through an old journal and it seemed fitting to post, especially with the birds in the corner of my blog. I do feel my time to fly is nearing, that my time to take a leap of faith may be in the coming days or months. I can feel God shaping me on a daily basis. I know He is molding me into the woman of His dreams, and I cannot wait to see the results.

Flight school is hard.

Learning how to fly takes time.
It's not a lesson learned in one night.
Not in three, not in four or five,
but in months, sometimes years.

One must learn how to do the job right,
or they will spiral to the ground.

Some will doubt you,
but don't heed their lies.
They tried to learn long ago,
but impatience kept them from soaring.

You have the power of an eagle,
and are as delicate as a butterfly.
Follow the owl, and heed his every word.

Flight school is hard.
Learning how to fly takes time.
It's not a lesson learned in one night.
Not in three, not in four or five,
but in months, sometimes years.

Today is not your day,
and tomorrow does not look bright, either.
Your day is closer than it seems.
When it comes, seize the opportunity,
and soar.

An Introduction 

The name's Katy. I'm 20 years old, and work at a store that smells perfumes and lotions. I have a passion for changing my community and social justice. I'm going to change the world. I like photography, reading, and exploring.

Hopefully this attempt at blogging is successful. The plan is to post at least one blog per week. Some may have more, and others less. So let's see how this goes!