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
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
"I want to hold your hand..."
I have often thought my sister Grace is somewhat childish. She is picky about food, doesn't particularly care what her clothes look like so long as they are comfortable, and she always want to hold hands, especially when in any "danger", like a parking lot.
Today was one such event of want to hold hands. We were sitting in church, and I was listening somewhat attentively to the sermon. Suddenly a hand plopped into my lap. It was Grace's. I looked at her, took her hand, and placed it back in her lap. Then my head turned back to the sermon. "Plop." Her hand was back. I looked at her again, gave her the "serious look", and placed her hand back into her lap. This happened three to four times, and I was getting a little annoyed. Finally I demanded "what do you want?!" She looked at me with her innocent, child like eyes and said simply, "I want to hold your hand."
I have often wondered why the Lord loves children so much. Kids are the ones who whine the most, have tantrums the most, and it appears, sin the most. (Don't get me wrong. I LOVE children. In fact, I would rather be with kids then people my own age for the most part. But it does seem they are the ones with the most problems and need the most training out of all people.) So to my question: why?
Perhaps one answer can be found in something as simple as "holding hands." A child realises that he/she is prone to wander and get side tracked, and they see their own dependency. They feel secure holding the hands of one who they can count on to protect them should come harm's way. Adults, on the other hand, don't want to be dependent. They don't want to "hold your hand."
Lesson I learned from the childish ways of Grace: I dont need to be afraid to admit that I need to "hold God's hand." I shouldnt fear calling to my Good Shepherd, and saying that I... well... depend on Him. He wants to hold my hand. He knows I am still a child, and He desires to be the one I turn to in time of need.
Perhaps all of our prayer to God should be the simple plea Grace gave me this morning. Perhaps it is time for us to be the children we are, and say "Lord, I want to hold Your hand."
Today was one such event of want to hold hands. We were sitting in church, and I was listening somewhat attentively to the sermon. Suddenly a hand plopped into my lap. It was Grace's. I looked at her, took her hand, and placed it back in her lap. Then my head turned back to the sermon. "Plop." Her hand was back. I looked at her again, gave her the "serious look", and placed her hand back into her lap. This happened three to four times, and I was getting a little annoyed. Finally I demanded "what do you want?!" She looked at me with her innocent, child like eyes and said simply, "I want to hold your hand."
I have often wondered why the Lord loves children so much. Kids are the ones who whine the most, have tantrums the most, and it appears, sin the most. (Don't get me wrong. I LOVE children. In fact, I would rather be with kids then people my own age for the most part. But it does seem they are the ones with the most problems and need the most training out of all people.) So to my question: why?
Perhaps one answer can be found in something as simple as "holding hands." A child realises that he/she is prone to wander and get side tracked, and they see their own dependency. They feel secure holding the hands of one who they can count on to protect them should come harm's way. Adults, on the other hand, don't want to be dependent. They don't want to "hold your hand."
Lesson I learned from the childish ways of Grace: I dont need to be afraid to admit that I need to "hold God's hand." I shouldnt fear calling to my Good Shepherd, and saying that I... well... depend on Him. He wants to hold my hand. He knows I am still a child, and He desires to be the one I turn to in time of need.
Perhaps all of our prayer to God should be the simple plea Grace gave me this morning. Perhaps it is time for us to be the children we are, and say "Lord, I want to hold Your hand."
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Alone yet not alone...
The season has come. One can smell it, feel it, see it--- sense it.
No, I do not speak of the standard "summer, winter, fall, spring" seasons. Rather- it is open house season. And what a season it is! Cars flood the streets. Re-connections with many friends that have not been seen in some time. Delicious
food. Tears. Memories. And so much more.
Today was another day of many open houses. I found myself traveling with groups of friends from home to home- hugging, laughing, and conversing with more people than can be counted.
While I was enjoying myself at one such moment, I happened to look over at my sister Grace who was sitting alone in a rocking bench. She seemed in her own world and talking to herself, so I didn't pay much attention at first.
Things were settling down, and so my mind was drawn back to Grace who was still alone. I walked up to her and asked her what she was doing. She looked up at me, smiled, and said without a moments hesitation, "talking to Jesus of course."
Every time something like this happens, I have to stop and think. Here I had been, surrounded by friends and family and different acquaintances- laughing and having the time of my life. Subconsciously, I considered myself the superior to Grace- I being the one surrounded, and she being "alone." But considering the situation, it was quite the reverse.
Grace, while appearing alone, had been in the audience of One far greater than anyone else there. She had been with the King of Kings, and the Lord of lords. Meanwhile, I had been building up my own self, only to find myself quite alone.
There is an old hymn I once read, and while writing this blog, it came to mind. --- I cannot help but wonder if this was the place my sister Grace was, and where I should have been.
"I am alone, yet not alone,
For Thou art near:
I cannot see Thy loving face,
But I can hear
The cheering promise of Thy grace.
Thou wilt not leave me in the dark
When falls the night;
For round my path and in my soul
Thou art the Light
To guide me with Thy sweet control.
No want can steal my rich supplies
Of love and peace;
For though I lack what others hold,
My stores increase
With heavenly gifts more rare than gold.
And Thou wilt bear me all life through,
And in the end
Wilt still abide what Thou hast been,
My constant Friend,
And take me where Thy face is seen."
No, I do not speak of the standard "summer, winter, fall, spring" seasons. Rather- it is open house season. And what a season it is! Cars flood the streets. Re-connections with many friends that have not been seen in some time. Delicious
food. Tears. Memories. And so much more.
Today was another day of many open houses. I found myself traveling with groups of friends from home to home- hugging, laughing, and conversing with more people than can be counted.
While I was enjoying myself at one such moment, I happened to look over at my sister Grace who was sitting alone in a rocking bench. She seemed in her own world and talking to herself, so I didn't pay much attention at first.
Things were settling down, and so my mind was drawn back to Grace who was still alone. I walked up to her and asked her what she was doing. She looked up at me, smiled, and said without a moments hesitation, "talking to Jesus of course."
Every time something like this happens, I have to stop and think. Here I had been, surrounded by friends and family and different acquaintances- laughing and having the time of my life. Subconsciously, I considered myself the superior to Grace- I being the one surrounded, and she being "alone." But considering the situation, it was quite the reverse.
Grace, while appearing alone, had been in the audience of One far greater than anyone else there. She had been with the King of Kings, and the Lord of lords. Meanwhile, I had been building up my own self, only to find myself quite alone.
There is an old hymn I once read, and while writing this blog, it came to mind. --- I cannot help but wonder if this was the place my sister Grace was, and where I should have been.
"I am alone, yet not alone,
For Thou art near:
I cannot see Thy loving face,
But I can hear
The cheering promise of Thy grace.
Thou wilt not leave me in the dark
When falls the night;
For round my path and in my soul
Thou art the Light
To guide me with Thy sweet control.
No want can steal my rich supplies
Of love and peace;
For though I lack what others hold,
My stores increase
With heavenly gifts more rare than gold.
And Thou wilt bear me all life through,
And in the end
Wilt still abide what Thou hast been,
My constant Friend,
And take me where Thy face is seen."
Saturday, April 17, 2010
That Tragic Push Aside...
It is easy to get behind on schoolwork, paperwork, every day chores.. etc. Eventually you are forced to catch up however. Life requires it.
It is even easier to "get behind" on the most important relationships one has in his or her life. Often, "eventually" never comes. While life may require relationships, it seems the dearest ones get put back the most.
Sadly, this has been the state of my relationship with my sister, Grace, these past few weeks. ACT testing, Prom, extra activities.. life- while all these things consumed my life, I forgot something far more important. Although Gracie and I of course talked a bit during the past while, I wasn't the sister I should have been.
I realised this the hard way. This morning I got home from an all nighter I had been at. I went straight to my room, and Gracie was there. She looked at me right in the eyes and asked "why are you here?" I answered in frustration that it was my room and I was going to lie down for a few minutes before I had to leave again for dance class. Gracie mumbled a bit and walked away looking at the floor looking upset. A while later I was lacing my dance shoes, and she came up to me and asked, "Do you love me Katherine?"
Why is it that the most important people in our lives get pushed aside for other things? Why is it that I had pushed aside one of the best people in my life so much, that she had to ask if I loved her?
I'm scared of pushing aside my sister, someone who needs me just as I need her. She should never have to question whether or not I love her... and yet today she did. What if she has to go through that again? What is she questions, "Katherine, do you love me?"
...
Truthfully, I dont know how to end this post. Perhaps the best way possible is to simply answer Grace's question.
Gracie...I'm so very sorry. I do love you. And I will do anything to prove that to you.
It is even easier to "get behind" on the most important relationships one has in his or her life. Often, "eventually" never comes. While life may require relationships, it seems the dearest ones get put back the most.
Sadly, this has been the state of my relationship with my sister, Grace, these past few weeks. ACT testing, Prom, extra activities.. life- while all these things consumed my life, I forgot something far more important. Although Gracie and I of course talked a bit during the past while, I wasn't the sister I should have been.
I realised this the hard way. This morning I got home from an all nighter I had been at. I went straight to my room, and Gracie was there. She looked at me right in the eyes and asked "why are you here?" I answered in frustration that it was my room and I was going to lie down for a few minutes before I had to leave again for dance class. Gracie mumbled a bit and walked away looking at the floor looking upset. A while later I was lacing my dance shoes, and she came up to me and asked, "Do you love me Katherine?"
Why is it that the most important people in our lives get pushed aside for other things? Why is it that I had pushed aside one of the best people in my life so much, that she had to ask if I loved her?
I'm scared of pushing aside my sister, someone who needs me just as I need her. She should never have to question whether or not I love her... and yet today she did. What if she has to go through that again? What is she questions, "Katherine, do you love me?"
...
Truthfully, I dont know how to end this post. Perhaps the best way possible is to simply answer Grace's question.
Gracie...I'm so very sorry. I do love you. And I will do anything to prove that to you.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Grace and me.
How can one begin writting on a blank page about something you have known your whole life, yet very few can relate?
Grace and I are sisters. At age 17, I am two years her junior.
Gracie has more knowledge than the average encylocpedia and devours any book she can get her hands on. Gracie enjoys to run for miles and miles at a time. Gracie finds the oddest things amusing and craves nothing more than for someone to sit by her and talk to her. Gracie loves to be loved.
Gracie dislikes change. She is not fond of people coming into her room, or sharing her things with other people. If she has a particular routine, dont attempt to alter it. When in a hallway full of people, Grace appears to be in her own world, and will run down the hall talking to herself. She has no social skills, and will quite often be very rude. And so, Gracie is very often misunderstood.
I am a typical teenager. I go through life attempting to please those around me. I love my family, enjoy being with friends, and am ready to jump up and go to a party at a moments notice.
Like Grace I do love to read, but not quite as much as she. Like Grace, I enjoy to run, but not nearly as much as she. Almost anything amuses me and I love conversation. Like Grace, I love to be loved.
Unlike Grace, I am flexible, social, and try to be friendly. I cringe every time I am with Grace and she angrily stomps away from someone who tries speaks to her. During those moments, I will correct her in great frustration. (This does not help at all. Grace only become more agitated, and the person to whom we were speaking then thinks me cruel for speaking to her in such a manner. And so, like Grace, my intentions are often misunderstood.)
How can I begin writting on a blank page about something I have known your whole life, yet almost no one can relate?
Grace and I are sisters. Grace and I are very similar in many ways. Grace and I are different in many ways. Although I am the younger sister, I have played the role of the older sister. With all this said, the final thing that needs to be said is this.
I love my sister Grace.
Grace and I are sisters. At age 17, I am two years her junior.
Gracie has more knowledge than the average encylocpedia and devours any book she can get her hands on. Gracie enjoys to run for miles and miles at a time. Gracie finds the oddest things amusing and craves nothing more than for someone to sit by her and talk to her. Gracie loves to be loved.
Gracie dislikes change. She is not fond of people coming into her room, or sharing her things with other people. If she has a particular routine, dont attempt to alter it. When in a hallway full of people, Grace appears to be in her own world, and will run down the hall talking to herself. She has no social skills, and will quite often be very rude. And so, Gracie is very often misunderstood.
I am a typical teenager. I go through life attempting to please those around me. I love my family, enjoy being with friends, and am ready to jump up and go to a party at a moments notice.
Like Grace I do love to read, but not quite as much as she. Like Grace, I enjoy to run, but not nearly as much as she. Almost anything amuses me and I love conversation. Like Grace, I love to be loved.
Unlike Grace, I am flexible, social, and try to be friendly. I cringe every time I am with Grace and she angrily stomps away from someone who tries speaks to her. During those moments, I will correct her in great frustration. (This does not help at all. Grace only become more agitated, and the person to whom we were speaking then thinks me cruel for speaking to her in such a manner. And so, like Grace, my intentions are often misunderstood.)
How can I begin writting on a blank page about something I have known your whole life, yet almost no one can relate?
Grace and I are sisters. Grace and I are very similar in many ways. Grace and I are different in many ways. Although I am the younger sister, I have played the role of the older sister. With all this said, the final thing that needs to be said is this.
I love my sister Grace.
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