I feel it is my duty to post a new blog post at least once a month. I am in full realization that I have failed this before and will most likely fail this again. And still, when one has the oppurtunity to do his or her duty without any hindrance or too much exertion, I believe it ought to be done. And hence, I am typing.
...
Last night I was blessed to have a night to hang out with Gracie as the rest of the family was out at a Thanksgiving dinner. We (mostly I) planned to watch a movie, play Uno, eat gluten-free goodies, paint nails, and laugh/talk/catch up on life. (Grace objected to all of it in some manner or another, but consented at last when I agreed we would watch a Bible video.) We ended up watching "One Night with the King," a movie based on the story of Esther. While it is a serious plot, I was laughing thoughout most of it. Grace kept commenting on how it was completely incorrect historically and that a great deal of it was "fantasised." (These objections of hers included the very dramatized romance between Esther and the King, the story behind Haman, and many little nuggets of information on clothing styles, architecture, languages, etc.)
--- I kept thinking how intelligent she is about the Bible. Truly, imagine if each of us indulged ourselves for hours of our days in Scripture, knowing everything about it, studying it as if nothing else mattered in the world. What if we had the eagerness my sister has to know the Word given to us by the Lord, would we not know our Maker in a far more beautiful way? ---
With all that said, we had a great night. Grace was a fantastic sport about it all and I felt completely spoiled.
I wish you all as wonderful a night as I had. :)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Halloween :)
Tonight was Halloween. Paul and Lydia dressed up in awsome costumes, Dad and Mom took them through our neighborhood "trick or treating", and Grace and I shared laughs back at the house while passing out candy. It was a very enjoyable night!
Love to all--- have a wonderful evening!
Love to all--- have a wonderful evening!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Dear friends,
This is going to be a short, rather inarticulate post as it is late at night and I am shaking as I am so tired. But I really felt I should share this with you.
Recently, there have been several episodes of my being very frustrated and almost angry with God for things happening in my life- one of these being Grace's autism. I keep questioning "Lord, why would you allow your own child to have a sickness as permanent autism? She is now a social outcast, and is accepted far less than others who are not your children."
I was receiving only silence from my Father for some time, and then tonight, He spoke in His loving voice.
(What He said can be more understood if you know the story of Sir Thomas More from "A Man for All Seasons". In the end of this play of this great man, Sir Thomas is betrayed by a friend. The friend received a bribe for a high position in Wales. Sir Thomas More says to his friend upon the betrayal "What does it profit a man gain the whole world and lose his soul. But for Wales?")
The Lord spoke to me, asking, "Katherine. What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and lose his soul? But for social acceptance?"
---- The Lord convicted me of how high I had raised the "prize" of being accepted by those surrounding us. The Lord, however, values this not at all. Look at His Son. Was Jesus not alone, outcast, forgotten? Did Jesus not suffer rejection by society for us, even to death?
---How silly I am, to consider being accepted of some great value. How much more beautiful would it be if we were rejected by society, but gave all we are to Jesus, giving every breath and thought and deed to His glory.
This is going to be a short, rather inarticulate post as it is late at night and I am shaking as I am so tired. But I really felt I should share this with you.
Recently, there have been several episodes of my being very frustrated and almost angry with God for things happening in my life- one of these being Grace's autism. I keep questioning "Lord, why would you allow your own child to have a sickness as permanent autism? She is now a social outcast, and is accepted far less than others who are not your children."
I was receiving only silence from my Father for some time, and then tonight, He spoke in His loving voice.
(What He said can be more understood if you know the story of Sir Thomas More from "A Man for All Seasons". In the end of this play of this great man, Sir Thomas is betrayed by a friend. The friend received a bribe for a high position in Wales. Sir Thomas More says to his friend upon the betrayal "What does it profit a man gain the whole world and lose his soul. But for Wales?")
The Lord spoke to me, asking, "Katherine. What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and lose his soul? But for social acceptance?"
---- The Lord convicted me of how high I had raised the "prize" of being accepted by those surrounding us. The Lord, however, values this not at all. Look at His Son. Was Jesus not alone, outcast, forgotten? Did Jesus not suffer rejection by society for us, even to death?
---How silly I am, to consider being accepted of some great value. How much more beautiful would it be if we were rejected by society, but gave all we are to Jesus, giving every breath and thought and deed to His glory.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Happy 20th Birthday Grace!
So this is a little late, considering Grace's birthday was the 20th of September. But I thought I should put a few pictures up anyways. Enjoy! :)
Grace and I :)
:) She has the cutest smile.
<3 him!
Happy Birthday Grace :) I love you!
Grace and I :)
:) She has the cutest smile.
<3 him!
Happy Birthday Grace :) I love you!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
To Be Called Beautiful...
I have come to the conclusion that people desire to be found attractive to someone. I didn’t realize how deep this craving was, though, until Grace helped open my eyes.
Grace is the least fashionable person I know. And she doesn’t seem to mind either. Grace just wants things to be comfortable. Since Grace was an infant, she hated tags in clothes, and would wear her shirts inside out so they wouldn’t itch her. She rolls her pants up to her knees so they won’t drag; she wears two pairs of fuzzy, striped socks to assure her feet will not get cold; she will wear my Mom’s old big puffy, pink winter jacket inside in the heat to assure herself she will not get sick; this list could go on and on. For this reason, I had come to the conclusion Grace doesn’t care at all about being considered pretty. – I was wrong.
I began to realize my miscalculations about two weeks back. Grace was sitting at the counter in our kitchen looking at her very short nails. I was bustling about doing homework, and glanced at Grace just long enough to realize how peculiar this was for her. I asked her how she was, and she replied sadly, “Katherine. You always paint Lydia’s nails. Why don’t you do mine? Is it because they are too short and not pretty like hers?”
I am glad I had the decency to stop for an hour and paint her nails. I am ashamed I stopped there.
Today I was yet again working on homework, and Grace was sitting across from me working on her laptop. I was daydreaming a little, when I noticed the middle of Grace’s eyebrows were completely missing. Alarmed, I asked her what had happened. Gracie covered her eyebrows with her hands and darted from the room. As she plopped on the couch, I sat beside her and repeated my questions. She said in muffled tones, “I shaved my eyebrows.”
Horrified, I asked her why she would ever do such a thing. She looked at me with her big, beautiful eyes and said, “You told me I had bushy eyebrows. I thought maybe I would be prettier if I cut them off.”
Well- I felt awful. Not only about calling her eyebrows bushy a while back, but also for having not realized all along how much this dear girl in front of me wanted to be thought of as beautiful. How could I not see?
This is no new suggestion that I have- there really is nothing very brilliant about it. But what I want to say is this. All around us are people who we think we know so well, but in truth, we don’t. We don’t know how much they hurt or long for love- how much they long “to be called beautiful.”
I don’t ask for you to go to another country- I don’t ask that you try to change a hundred people’s lives. But I ask that you would look around yourself, as I do the same, and tell those close to you how much you love them. Tell the just how beautiful they are.
Grace is the least fashionable person I know. And she doesn’t seem to mind either. Grace just wants things to be comfortable. Since Grace was an infant, she hated tags in clothes, and would wear her shirts inside out so they wouldn’t itch her. She rolls her pants up to her knees so they won’t drag; she wears two pairs of fuzzy, striped socks to assure her feet will not get cold; she will wear my Mom’s old big puffy, pink winter jacket inside in the heat to assure herself she will not get sick; this list could go on and on. For this reason, I had come to the conclusion Grace doesn’t care at all about being considered pretty. – I was wrong.
I began to realize my miscalculations about two weeks back. Grace was sitting at the counter in our kitchen looking at her very short nails. I was bustling about doing homework, and glanced at Grace just long enough to realize how peculiar this was for her. I asked her how she was, and she replied sadly, “Katherine. You always paint Lydia’s nails. Why don’t you do mine? Is it because they are too short and not pretty like hers?”
I am glad I had the decency to stop for an hour and paint her nails. I am ashamed I stopped there.
Today I was yet again working on homework, and Grace was sitting across from me working on her laptop. I was daydreaming a little, when I noticed the middle of Grace’s eyebrows were completely missing. Alarmed, I asked her what had happened. Gracie covered her eyebrows with her hands and darted from the room. As she plopped on the couch, I sat beside her and repeated my questions. She said in muffled tones, “I shaved my eyebrows.”
Horrified, I asked her why she would ever do such a thing. She looked at me with her big, beautiful eyes and said, “You told me I had bushy eyebrows. I thought maybe I would be prettier if I cut them off.”
Well- I felt awful. Not only about calling her eyebrows bushy a while back, but also for having not realized all along how much this dear girl in front of me wanted to be thought of as beautiful. How could I not see?
This is no new suggestion that I have- there really is nothing very brilliant about it. But what I want to say is this. All around us are people who we think we know so well, but in truth, we don’t. We don’t know how much they hurt or long for love- how much they long “to be called beautiful.”
I don’t ask for you to go to another country- I don’t ask that you try to change a hundred people’s lives. But I ask that you would look around yourself, as I do the same, and tell those close to you how much you love them. Tell the just how beautiful they are.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
My Stranger
Dear Reader. Have you ever asked yourself “what is wrong with me?”
I find myself questioning my behaviors as of late. Daily I find myself saying some words I regret, or burdening someone I love deeply, or simply being a person I don’t even know. What is wrong with me, dear Reader?
But a moment ago I became a stranger to myself again. Grace and I share a textbook in one of our college classes, and I had procrastinated to the last minute and was now in need of the book. My darling sister was in bed (as a good student should be on a school night,) however I could not find that book. (If truth was to be told, I barely even searched for it. But naturally, I assumed it would take far too much energy to actually seek any object out.) I went to the stairs and impatiently called Grace’s name several times. When the poor, sleepy girl finally replied to my whines, I had lost my “great patience.” I asked her, with the most desperate cries I could muster, where “my” textbook was that she “took.” Grace replied slowly, and I was considering myself a great “victim” by this time. She answered that she had already placed it in her bag for classes in the morning. And, for some absurd reason, “this was more then I could bear.” I moaned with obnoxious frustration that I was going to use it and if she wanted it back in her bag, she would simply have to come and get it herself after I was done. I turned hurriedly to find my “stolen” book.
Then, dear Reader, I met the stranger.
I have always loved the verse, “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” To think, God loves us not because of any good we did or do. In fact, He loves us even during our sins. Another favorite verse of mine is, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.”
How incredibly thankful I am God loves me, even when I loathe myself.
Dear Reader. We have all asked ourselves the question, “What is wrong with me?” And I am certain there is a long, doctrinal answer for that which can be discussed and debated. :) But for now, I am swelling with pleasure in the knowledge that God’s grace and love is sufficient for us, for His power is made perfect in our weakness.
ps. The following images were taken when Grace and I lived in England when we were little. I hope you enjoy!
Grace and I holding hands---- a habit we have never changed. :)
Grace and I in our frily dresses which I remember distinctly Grace did NOT like and I loved.
Grace and I smiling away as we played countless for hours and always remaining close by each other's side. <3
I find myself questioning my behaviors as of late. Daily I find myself saying some words I regret, or burdening someone I love deeply, or simply being a person I don’t even know. What is wrong with me, dear Reader?
But a moment ago I became a stranger to myself again. Grace and I share a textbook in one of our college classes, and I had procrastinated to the last minute and was now in need of the book. My darling sister was in bed (as a good student should be on a school night,) however I could not find that book. (If truth was to be told, I barely even searched for it. But naturally, I assumed it would take far too much energy to actually seek any object out.) I went to the stairs and impatiently called Grace’s name several times. When the poor, sleepy girl finally replied to my whines, I had lost my “great patience.” I asked her, with the most desperate cries I could muster, where “my” textbook was that she “took.” Grace replied slowly, and I was considering myself a great “victim” by this time. She answered that she had already placed it in her bag for classes in the morning. And, for some absurd reason, “this was more then I could bear.” I moaned with obnoxious frustration that I was going to use it and if she wanted it back in her bag, she would simply have to come and get it herself after I was done. I turned hurriedly to find my “stolen” book.
Then, dear Reader, I met the stranger.
I have always loved the verse, “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” To think, God loves us not because of any good we did or do. In fact, He loves us even during our sins. Another favorite verse of mine is, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.”
How incredibly thankful I am God loves me, even when I loathe myself.
Dear Reader. We have all asked ourselves the question, “What is wrong with me?” And I am certain there is a long, doctrinal answer for that which can be discussed and debated. :) But for now, I am swelling with pleasure in the knowledge that God’s grace and love is sufficient for us, for His power is made perfect in our weakness.
ps. The following images were taken when Grace and I lived in England when we were little. I hope you enjoy!
Grace and I holding hands---- a habit we have never changed. :)
Grace and I in our frily dresses which I remember distinctly Grace did NOT like and I loved.
Grace and I smiling away as we played countless for hours and always remaining close by each other's side. <3
Thursday, July 8, 2010
I am not "on hold"- I am held
Yesterday, a glorious thing happened. I received my new cell phone in the mail.
After three months of no cell phone, I was in a hurry to add contacts, make calls, and let my eager fingers start texting again. Within a flash, I have my cell phone out of the box, and am following directions to get the phone “activated.”
...
It wasn’t working. I needed help. And so, I do the only thing I can. I call customer service.
I dial the number. It rings once.
I hear the voice of a machine.
“Thank you for calling. Please hold. Your call is very important to us. A service director will be with you shortly.”
I wait.
Time goes by.
I hear (what I call) “ding-y” music that sounds like a child playing a recorder.
I hear advertisements for more ways to spend money.
I am still waiting.
“Thank you for calling customer service. My name is _____. How can I help you?”
“Yeah, I am having trouble activating my phone. And---”
“Please hold for a few minutes while I put you in contact with our activation phone advisor.”
It’s the music again. Same advertisements over again. -----
This goes on for sometime. I am transferred to the "activation phone advisor" who had a strong Indian accent and had trouble with English, then I am transferred to the sales department which of course did not help and----- and it simply goes on and on.
I was about six years old when I began to understand why Grace was "different." Ever since then I have prayed and prayed that God would heal her from autism. My family has prayed. My cousins aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, ----- so many people have prayed it seems mind boggling to me.
Yet Grace isnt better. In fact- recently I think her autism has been worse.
A few nights ago I was falling asleep, and Gracie wanted to pray with me. We both knelt down beside the bed and prayed for our country, for missionaries across the globe, for the unreached people, and many wonderful things. Somewhere in the midst of these pleas to our Lord, Grace asked that she would be healed of autism.
My mind began to wander. I stopped praying. "I have prayed for this for so long," I said to myself. "Why isn't He listening!?!?!"
When praying, I feel like I am talking on the phone to customer service. I am "dialing" to God, and then I just get rather obnoxious music. I long for some answers- but all I hear is "please hold- your call is very important to me..."
Right now, I would love to say something profound. But for once, I am speechless.
I could say "I know all things will work together for good," and I am certain they will. But this doesnt make me feel any better. I could say "I trust God to use all things to His glory," and I am He will.
But when it comes down to it, no "answer" makes it better. I am still the little sister of a girl with high level autism- and truthfully- that fact can frighten me.
Yet, while I have no answers, I do have hope. Unlike my being on hold for hours with a machine repeating itself over and over, when I pray, I am going before a God who came to earth and experienced every suffering. He knows my pain. He sees every tear, every hurt, every fear- and understands them. Christ stretched His arms out and died because of the suffering I face.
My favorite song is "In Christ Alone." While you probably have heard it multiple times, re read it once more.
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
‘Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt of life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
‘til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand
After three months of no cell phone, I was in a hurry to add contacts, make calls, and let my eager fingers start texting again. Within a flash, I have my cell phone out of the box, and am following directions to get the phone “activated.”
...
It wasn’t working. I needed help. And so, I do the only thing I can. I call customer service.
I dial the number. It rings once.
I hear the voice of a machine.
“Thank you for calling. Please hold. Your call is very important to us. A service director will be with you shortly.”
I wait.
Time goes by.
I hear (what I call) “ding-y” music that sounds like a child playing a recorder.
I hear advertisements for more ways to spend money.
I am still waiting.
“Thank you for calling customer service. My name is _____. How can I help you?”
“Yeah, I am having trouble activating my phone. And---”
“Please hold for a few minutes while I put you in contact with our activation phone advisor.”
It’s the music again. Same advertisements over again. -----
This goes on for sometime. I am transferred to the "activation phone advisor" who had a strong Indian accent and had trouble with English, then I am transferred to the sales department which of course did not help and----- and it simply goes on and on.
I was about six years old when I began to understand why Grace was "different." Ever since then I have prayed and prayed that God would heal her from autism. My family has prayed. My cousins aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, ----- so many people have prayed it seems mind boggling to me.
Yet Grace isnt better. In fact- recently I think her autism has been worse.
A few nights ago I was falling asleep, and Gracie wanted to pray with me. We both knelt down beside the bed and prayed for our country, for missionaries across the globe, for the unreached people, and many wonderful things. Somewhere in the midst of these pleas to our Lord, Grace asked that she would be healed of autism.
My mind began to wander. I stopped praying. "I have prayed for this for so long," I said to myself. "Why isn't He listening!?!?!"
When praying, I feel like I am talking on the phone to customer service. I am "dialing" to God, and then I just get rather obnoxious music. I long for some answers- but all I hear is "please hold- your call is very important to me..."
Right now, I would love to say something profound. But for once, I am speechless.
I could say "I know all things will work together for good," and I am certain they will. But this doesnt make me feel any better. I could say "I trust God to use all things to His glory," and I am He will.
But when it comes down to it, no "answer" makes it better. I am still the little sister of a girl with high level autism- and truthfully- that fact can frighten me.
Yet, while I have no answers, I do have hope. Unlike my being on hold for hours with a machine repeating itself over and over, when I pray, I am going before a God who came to earth and experienced every suffering. He knows my pain. He sees every tear, every hurt, every fear- and understands them. Christ stretched His arms out and died because of the suffering I face.
My favorite song is "In Christ Alone." While you probably have heard it multiple times, re read it once more.
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
‘Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt of life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
‘til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand
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