Need vs. Want: We Meet Again.

These days I live in a sea of moving boxes.  At first only a sliver of my was life stacked high in a corner, but as moving day draws near I can hardly walk in my apartment without tripping over myself.

It's funny putting my life in boxes.  It's funny how much of it I don't need.

I've been fine this week without the frames and socks, the quilts and pillows, the mysterious FRAGILE box and the summer clothes.  I live in a tiny apartment and yet I have so much stuff.  How much of it do I actually need?  Sigh...need vs. want:  Cliche (yet important) argument and Katie meet again!

Don't get me wrong; it would be impractical to get rid of everything.  I won't wear summer clothes this week but I will next June.  I don't need the frames now (or ever) but they hold photos of people I love.  Those familiar faces will be an especially welcome sight in a new place.  I'm glad for the things I have--especially cherished treasures from loved ones and friends.

It would be impractical to get rid of everything but I do wonder if I've got the right balance.  Are there more 'wants' than 'needs' in the boxes?  Yes.  I'm sure of it.  What's the balance between good stewardship of stuff vs. seemingly endless accumulation of things we think we need?

No answers.  Just questions.  Back to packing!

Staff Infection (the good kind)

Today the Memorial Baptist staff treated me to a fun day.  It was great. We piled into our beloved minivan and hit the road for Washington, D.C.  I had no idea where we were going.  I love surprises.

Because I'm a history dork the staff selected President Lincoln's cottage for a visit and tour.  They know me!  During the summers the Lincolns lived in the cottage.  The President would ride 45 minutes on horseback to reach the White House for work.  He was escorted by no one--even in the midst of the Civil War!  People feared for his life but the President treasured the time alone (so surmised our excellent tour guide.  I concur.).  I can only imagine the prayers he prayed, the things he thought, the worries he carried.

For lunch Artemia secured an excellent neighborhood eatery-The San Antonio Bar and Grill-which especially thrilled the Texans.  As everyone knows it's best to keep the Texans happy.

We finished the day with a stop at Fro Yo.  Following is an unimportant yogurt opinion:  Fro Yo and Sweet Frog are infinitely better than Pinkberry.  At Fro Yo there is a veritable plenty of flavors AND we have the freedom of lever-pulling.  Elsewhere the people behind the counter control the yogurt.  To quote Cher from Clueless "As if!"  All yogurt however is a win due to live cultures (whatever that means).  I'll move on because this is turning into a first world problem situation.

I'm grateful for this day.  I'm grateful for the history, the fajitas and the yogurt but more than anything I am grateful for these people I love.  Every one of them.  We are colaborers but we are also friends.  Here's a non-exhaustive list of why they're awesome:

• Belinda is teeming with hospitality.  She makes every person feel special because she believes every person is special. What a gift in this day and age!  Belinda learns folks' names because she cares.  I love that.  
• Sally and I started within weeks of each other at Memorial. Sally is one of the most humble human beings I've ever met. She truly wants to live for and like Jesus all the time.  It's beautiful really.  
• Artemia is a gifted listener and a wondrous minister.  She can lead, preach, sing, teach, number-crunch and party-plan.  She'll bend over backwards for anyone.  She makes the world brighter for so many people.  She sacrifices for folks.
• For me, the word Richard is synonymous with the word kind.  "How can I help you?"  Richard has asked me 3.4 million times.  What's more:  He means it.  He is loyal and gentlemanly (in that really respectful and awesome way). 
• Drew is a wonderful pastor.  He is funny and loves to laugh.  He is a great storyteller.  He asks good questions and is a great leader.  Drew's passion for missions is infectious.  It has been a joy to get to know him.
• Ruben loves the church so very much.  He cares for the building and the people.  He makes me laugh and he's a prankster. I will miss hearing him sing on Friday afternoons whilst he vacuums.  No one blasts Enrique Iglesias like Ruben.  
• Ricardo carries with him a sense of joy and peace.  His smile is warm and he is unfailingly friendly.  Ricardo is kind. 
• While we don't see Bill Johnson daily, I appreciate his pastoral care and love of improving things to make life easier for everyone.




Thanks Abe!  You're the best.

These are the people with whom I spend my days.  I am blessed.  Thanks for treating me to a special day.  I felt and feel loved.

A Childhood Dream Come True

I can't believe it happened.

I HAVE A GAME BALL.

Once again:  I have a game ball.

I was elated.  Stoked.  Thrilled.  Over the top excited.  I called my dad.  I called my brother.  I still can't believe it but it's true! It really happened. I HAVE A GAME BALL.

I can remember toting my Macgregor glove (why no capitalization of the 'G' friends?) to Saint Louis Cardinals games as a girl hoping for a chance to catch a ball.  Last night the childhood dream came true!  And it was a Nationals game ball.  And I love love love the Nationals. (Please excuse my excessive use of 'love' for such a time as this.)

For non-baseball fans, to what can I compare this joy?  It's like a guitar pick from The Edge.  It's like a piece of the net from March Madness. For game show fans (too much?):  It's like a Pat Sajak AND Vanna White autographed a piece of the Wheel.  A game ball--especially a scuffed up ball--is pretty much the best thing ever.

My pal Erin surprised me with excellent tickets to the game.  We were just behind the dugout.  That in itself was enough to delight me for the next week.  I love love love (can't help myself) surprises and this was a great one!  I could see the expressions on the players' faces. When Tyler Clippard (bless him) returned to the dugout dejected and downtrodden we stood and clapped for him.  I think he made eye contact with us.    I gave him the "You'll get 'em next time" support look.  I think he felt that.  It's a stretch, but I think he felt that.

So:  The ball.  How is it mine you ask.  One of the Brewers' players foul tipped the ball.  The Nats ball boy picked it up.  As he ran back to the dugout I stood up, smiled and politely said "Hello!  May I have the ball?"  We made eye contact and for some strange reason he tossed it at me.  This is when things went into slow motion.  I see the ball hurling toward me (thank you ball boy!).  I reach for it but wait:  A man in front of me snatched it for himself.  Nooooooooooooooo!  Noooooooooooo mister!  GIVE ME BACK MY DREAMS.

Ultimate sadness...

Until the man turned around, handed me the ball and said "This ball was meant for you."  I gushed.  I thanked.  I gave a passionate explanation of the significance of this ball.  It was a bit much for him.  I think he was done about 15 seconds in but I needed him to know.  Thank you mister.  Faith in humanity restored and childhood dream come true.

Thank you mister.  Thank you ball boy.  Thank you Erin.  Thank you baseball.

Here I Am Lord

One of my favorite hymns is "Here I Am Lord." The lyrics are rich with trust in God.  Sometimes I tremble when I sing it:  "Here I am Lord...I have heard you calling in the night...I will go Lord if you lead me..."  It is quite a thing to tell God "I'll go if you lead me" and mean it.

For awhile now God has been leading me to be pastor of a church. God has whispered, sung and spoken the call--but lately God has been shouting! The gracious folks of Scottsville Baptist Church in Scottsville, Virginia have called me to be their pastor.  I am thrilled to begin the journey with them.  The entire process has been grace-filled and humbling.  I am grateful.

Anyone who listened to pop music in the 1990s remembers "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."  As I depart for Scottsville I leave Memorial Baptist Church.  Leaving a church you love is an acute kind of pain I wouldn't wish on anyone.  I trust God's leadership and am eager to serve God's church in Scottsville, but I will miss Memorial.  Never have grief and excitement captured me so fully at the same time.

More than grief or excitement however, I am grateful.  I am grateful for six wonderful years at Memorial.  I am grateful for God's call to pastor Scottsville.   I am grateful for God's people in both places.  I am grateful and blessed.

The last line of "Here I Am Lord" promises "...I will hold your people in my heart."

That I will.  That I will.

Here's to the men that we love! (that we love!)

Once upon a time I was in a sorority.  One of the highlights of my week was circling up.  Circling up is Greek speak for singing shoutin' songs real loud for all campus to hear.  If you have a solid 10-15 ask me about circle up and I will happily oblige you with a song or seven. Following is one of my favorites and I'd like you to imagine it with gusto:

Here's to the men that we love!  (that we love!)
Here's to the men that love us!  (that love us!)
But the men that we love aren't the men that love us so to heck with the men here's to us!

It is possible the word was not 'heck' but you get the idea.  I guess this song isn't very nice, but it was especially poignant in those unrequited love like times in life.  Sigh...moving on.

Today however I want to convey the opposite sentiment.  Today I'm only interested in the first line:

Here's to the men that we love!  (that we love!)

On Wednesday I was surrounded by men who sacrificed vacation time to prepare a meal.  Men in the kitchen!  I love it.  And guess what?  It's normal to see men working in the kitchen at Memorial.  It's normal to see men teaching Vacation Bible School and preparing meals for homebound members.  It's normal to see women and men laboring alongside one another doing most things at Memorial. While normal, this is no small thing.

Here's to the men that we love!  (that we love!)

I don't appreciate these men simply because they are willing to do traditional "women's work" but I can't get over the simple beauty of the visual.  Do these men understand how important their seemingly small choices are--that little eyes are watching?  I'm so happy our little boys will expect to serve alongside little girls in all capacities.  I'm so happy our little girls will expect to serve alongside little boys in all capacities.  They will expect it because they see it.  It's that simple.

If we want all persons called by God to serve in various ways in the home, church and world, children will have to see it.  We can say lots of things but lip service is just not enough.  Children will have to see it.

If we want all persons called by God to serve as they are called, children will have to see it.  When children see it...little girls will know they can carry heavy things should the Lord bless them with strong muscles.  Little boys will know they can work in the nursery should the Lord bless them with the gift of nurture.  Little girls and boys will know they are able to serve as deacon should the Lord bless them with leadership and wisdom.  By our example little boys and girls will be able to be faithful to God's call.  They will be free to serve as God calls because they've seen it.  They're counting on us to serve as we're called and needed.

Here's to the men that we love!  (that we love!)

It is no small thing to serve the Lord as we're called and needed.  Thanks faithful men for paving the way for the littlest ones to hear God's call.

I hope it goes without saying I appreciate the work of the faithful ladies (girl power!), but today I wanted to highlight the fellas. 

Rock Climbing is Scary.

Do you know what some people don't like?  I'll tell you:  Some people don't like being scared in front of other people.  Coincidentally, do you know what Katie doesn't like?  I'll tell you:  Katie doesn't like being scared in front of other people.  

Let me rewind a bit:  The McKowns are not a camping bunch.  We'll do it, but we're more of a "give-us-beds-and-a-continental-breakfast-and-every-fifth-year-a-concierge" family.  The great indoors is a lovely place, people.  

But as it turns out some people in this world enjoy camping and thanks to dirt loving friends I am warming up to the outdoors.  When I asked a pal what pre-wedding shindig she would like she responded "Let's go camping!"  GREAT.  Because who doesn't cook vegetables over a fire to celebrate upcoming nuptials?  

I kid.  We had a great time.  I have awesome friends.

Anyway we were on a steep hike to Spy Rock this weekend.  The view is magnificent.  Pre-magnificence however you have climb a large rock.  For the REI crowd this would be considered a warm up.  For me this was the hiking Olympics.  I am ter-ri-fied of falling.  

Luckily there is a kind dad who accompanies the youth on this trip.  Most years he has happily busted out the cheerleader elevator hands and boosted me up a bit.  But this year I was determined to do it myself.  We approached the rock from a different angle.  This was my year to shine.

At one point I was frozen against the rock.  At least forty-seven times I said aloud "I'm scared."  And I really meant it.  It was rock-climbing without the harness.  There were no cute colorful clay targets to grab onto--only God made crevices in the rock.   Finally I mustered all the courage that was muster-able within me and did it.  Folks I am still alive.

On the way down the mountain I heard myself say "I don't like to be scared in front of other people" to the adult chaperones.  Hello moment of honesty!  After I said it I was embarrassed mostly because it's true.  Hello pride!    

Most of us don't like to show our fears.  What is (or at least seems) easy to others is hard for us.  And when word gets out we are vulnerable:  What will they think?  What will they say?  What will they do?

Though it's difficult being vulnerable with one another it is essential to the church community.  We are not fearless people.  We are not perfect people. We are scared.  We are broken.  We don't have it all together so let's stop pretending.  I'm preaching to myself people!!!  

Being vulnerable can hurt or embarrass us but most of the time it won't. Trust me.  Usually vulnerability will allow people to come alongside us.  It allows people to give us a boost up the mountain or at least cheer us on when we take a chance. When we are vulnerable with one another we share the load.  We carry the burden together which I've heard somewhere else...oh yes...the Bible.  

So I'm off to rock climb again tomorrow.  

Just kidding.  JK as the kids say.  But one day I will rock climb again and the support of my sisters and brothers will help me up the mountain.  Cheesy...but true.  (And I like cheese anyway so it's all good.)

Can you help keep the lights on?

Part of what ministers do is help those with needs.  Some folks need rental assistance.  Others need food or gas money.  Some folks need a new appliance.  It can be anything.  

Sometimes this is a beautiful part of ministry:  a need is presented, a need is met and folks get back on their feet.  Occasionally these folks want to become part of the church family.  It is times like these your heart is so full you fear it will explode with love (and if it's my heart:  love and glitter).

The Arlington County Department of Human Services is helpful to us.  In many cases we work together to help folks get back on their feet.  Good things happen.  It seems like people don't fall through the cracks as easily.  Sometimes we can help and things work out; however other times we cannot.

Because other times you have to say no.

Saying no stinks.  Even if you discern 'no' to be the best decision it still stinks.  Actually it really stinks.  This part of the call is painfully difficult.  

I often wonder if I've done the right thing when I say 'yes' or 'no'.  There are lots of tensions in helping others.  Most people want to help the poor, but how?  The best thing we can do is pray for God's wisdom (every day and in the moment).  Mix that with available resources and our own wits and we hopefully come to a solution. 

For me it's not about whether someone deserves to be helped or not.  Who among us deserves the good in our lives?  Many times we don't deserve the bad either.  It's not about who's deserving and who's not. It is, however about being a good steward of the funds the church has entrusted to us to share.  There is a limited amount.  There are many in need.  

The persons who call on us are just like us.  They are people in need only their needs are visible.  Many of ours are hidden.  Some of these persons are in desperate need.  Others are not.  Some of these persons are kind.  Others are not.  Some of these persons are truthful.  Others are not.  They're just like us:  They are us.  They're people.

Part of the how is remembering people are people, and even if we can't (or shouldn't) pay the light bill we can have a conversation.  We can look folks in the eye.  We can point them to the Department of Human Services and offer to help them get a social worker.  We can invite them to share a meal.  We might say 'no' to one request, but say 'yes' in other ways.

I don't want to be stingy or naive.  Helping folks in physical need is neither easy nor black and white.  Sometimes I wish it was...but perhaps that's what makes the journey meaningful?  We have to work hard and be creative.  We have take time, sit down and ask questions.  We have to pray and trust and hope.  Recently a man stopped by and had me in stitches.  His personality made me smile.  I am made better by my interaction with him.  

I'm not saying anything new.  I'm only saying it for me today.