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Kisses from Katie

2012-11-15T11:12:42+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-11-13 21:45:00

Last updated on: November 15, 2012 at 11:12 am   By katie

I watch the tears roll down her cheeks and am devastated for her. I know she must be crying because of the pain of her burns or because of the pain in her heart at the thought of her husband pushing her into the fire. I place my hand on her shoulder and my eyes beckon her to share.“My stomach is hurting,” she says, and that’s not what I was expecting, “This is the first time I have eaten this week.”It’s Thursday.I pray because I don’t know what else to do.  Sure, I can feed this woman lunch but after a week of an empty stomach that may just hurt more than it helps, and I can’t do much to change her situation, to relieve her of her abusive husband or her job picking scrap metal out of the garbage heap. I can feed her now but she goes home to 3 starving children and a future that seems utterly hopeless. We pray.I get a middle of the night text from a dear friend who has been more of an encouragement to me than she will ever know. Her mom’s biopsy results have come back and the tumor on her brain is cancerous. I can barely choke out words to say that my heart is so heavy for her, that we will carry this burden with them in prayer. I am blown away by her strength and feel completely un-encouraging. We pray.The hurt doesn’t stop. A teenager needs his leg amputated because an infection that could have been preventable is now out of control. A 4-year-old’s arm is permanently damaged because his mom didn’t have enough money to have it casted when he broke it a few months ago. My friend carries the unborn child of her late husband but confides in me that she would rather not. 5 children in our program watch their mother fight HIV which is rapidly sucking the life right out of her. Another friend threatens to abandon her children (again) because she just can’t make enough money to make ends meet and she would rather be apart from them than watch them suffer.We move them into that little house in the back and we ask for miracles.13 hearts are growing into women under my roof and need more and more of Mom, more and more of His truth. I sit, erase the to-do list from my mind and will myself to be present, to be available. The gate opens again and again and the phone rings and all these people, they just want to know that they are not alone in their hurt, just want to be heard.So many hearts to tend.Who is God on the days when love just doesn’t feel like enough?I have been reading through the book of Revelation. I’ll be honest, even after reading several commentaries and looking up lots of Greek words, there are parts of it that I just can’t quite wrap my mind around. I think this is ok. How marvelous to serve a God who is so much more magnificent than I can even comprehend! What I have noticed though is that through all of it, a few things remain constant regardless of tribulation and destruction.God is on the throne. All the angels and all elders and all the saints and all the believers are gathered at His feet. And they can’t stop worshiping Him. They can’t stop worshiping Him. Forever.And so this week life is hard and it is heavy. Because I love so many and I want them to knowHim and I want Him to heal them. I want the hurt to be over, but I know that one day, it will be. And in the mean time I just ask it, I beg it, that we would be people who cannot stop worshiping the Lamb who is worthy. That through the hard and the struggle and the moments that just seem so hopeless we would cling to the hope that He’s already won and our only response would be adoration and praise.Eyes on Him. Because when our love is not enough, His was. His is. After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” And the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God saying, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” –Revelation 5:9-12 Read more

2012-11-15T11:12:42+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-11-13 21:45:00

Last updated on: November 15, 2012 at 11:12 am   By katie

I watch the tears roll down her cheeks and am devastated for her. I know she must be crying because of the pain of her burns or because of the pain in her heart at the thought of her husband pushing her into the fire. I place my hand on her shoulder and my eyes beckon her to share.“My stomach is hurting,” she says, and that’s not what I was expecting, “This is the first time I have eaten this week.”It’s Thursday.I pray because I don’t know what else to do.  Sure, I can feed this woman lunch but after a week of an empty stomach that may just hurt more than it helps, and I can’t do much to change her situation, to relieve her of her abusive husband or her job picking scrap metal out of the garbage heap. I can feed her now but she goes home to 3 starving children and a future that seems utterly hopeless. We pray.I get a middle of the night text from a dear friend who has been more of an encouragement to me than she will ever know. Her mom’s biopsy results have come back and the tumor on her brain is cancerous. I can barely choke out words to say that my heart is so heavy for her, that we will carry this burden with them in prayer. I am blown away by her strength and feel completely un-encouraging. We pray.The hurt doesn’t stop. A teenager needs his leg amputated because an infection that could have been preventable is now out of control. A 4-year-old’s arm is permanently damaged because his mom didn’t have enough money to have it casted when he broke it a few months ago. My friend carries the unborn child of her late husband but confides in me that she would rather not. 5 children in our program watch their mother fight HIV which is rapidly sucking the life right out of her. Another friend threatens to abandon her children (again) because she just can’t make enough money to make ends meet and she would rather be apart from them than watch them suffer.We move them into that little house in the back and we ask for miracles.13 hearts are growing into women under my roof and need more and more of Mom, more and more of His truth. I sit, erase the to-do list from my mind and will myself to be present, to be available. The gate opens again and again and the phone rings and all these people, they just want to know that they are not alone in their hurt, just want to be heard.So many hearts to tend.Who is God on the days when love just doesn’t feel like enough?I have been reading through the book of Revelation. I’ll be honest, even after reading several commentaries and looking up lots of Greek words, there are parts of it that I just can’t quite wrap my mind around. I think this is ok. How marvelous to serve a God who is so much more magnificent than I can even comprehend! What I have noticed though is that through all of it, a few things remain constant regardless of tribulation and destruction.God is on the throne. All the angels and all elders and all the saints and all the believers are gathered at His feet. And they can’t stop worshiping Him. They can’t stop worshiping Him. Forever.And so this week life is hard and it is heavy. Because I love so many and I want them to knowHim and I want Him to heal them. I want the hurt to be over, but I know that one day, it will be. And in the mean time I just ask it, I beg it, that we would be people who cannot stop worshiping the Lamb who is worthy. That through the hard and the struggle and the moments that just seem so hopeless we would cling to the hope that He’s already won and our only response would be adoration and praise.Eyes on Him. Because when our love is not enough, His was. His is. After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” And the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God saying, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” –Revelation 5:9-12 Read more

2012-11-15T11:12:42+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-11-13 21:45:00

Last updated on: November 15, 2012 at 11:12 am   By katie

I watch the tears roll down her cheeks and am devastated for her. I know she must be crying because of the pain of her burns or because of the pain in her heart at the thought of her husband pushing her into the fire. I place my hand on her shoulder and my eyes beckon her to share.“My stomach is hurting,” she says, and that’s not what I was expecting, “This is the first time I have eaten this week.”It’s Thursday.I pray because I don’t know what else to do.  Sure, I can feed this woman lunch but after a week of an empty stomach that may just hurt more than it helps, and I can’t do much to change her situation, to relieve her of her abusive husband or her job picking scrap metal out of the garbage heap. I can feed her now but she goes home to 3 starving children and a future that seems utterly hopeless. We pray.I get a middle of the night text from a dear friend who has been more of an encouragement to me than she will ever know. Her mom’s biopsy results have come back and the tumor on her brain is cancerous. I can barely choke out words to say that my heart is so heavy for her, that we will carry this burden with them in prayer. I am blown away by her strength and feel completely un-encouraging. We pray.The hurt doesn’t stop. A teenager needs his leg amputated because an infection that could have been preventable is now out of control. A 4-year-old’s arm is permanently damaged because his mom didn’t have enough money to have it casted when he broke it a few months ago. My friend carries the unborn child of her late husband but confides in me that she would rather not. 5 children in our program watch their mother fight HIV which is rapidly sucking the life right out of her. Another friend threatens to abandon her children (again) because she just can’t make enough money to make ends meet and she would rather be apart from them than watch them suffer.We move them into that little house in the back and we ask for miracles.13 hearts are growing into women under my roof and need more and more of Mom, more and more of His truth. I sit, erase the to-do list from my mind and will myself to be present, to be available. The gate opens again and again and the phone rings and all these people, they just want to know that they are not alone in their hurt, just want to be heard.So many hearts to tend.Who is God on the days when love just doesn’t feel like enough?I have been reading through the book of Revelation. I’ll be honest, even after reading several commentaries and looking up lots of Greek words, there are parts of it that I just can’t quite wrap my mind around. I think this is ok. How marvelous to serve a God who is so much more magnificent than I can even comprehend! What I have noticed though is that through all of it, a few things remain constant regardless of tribulation and destruction.God is on the throne. All the angels and all elders and all the saints and all the believers are gathered at His feet. And they can’t stop worshiping Him. They can’t stop worshiping Him. Forever.And so this week life is hard and it is heavy. Because I love so many and I want them to knowHim and I want Him to heal them. I want the hurt to be over, but I know that one day, it will be. And in the mean time I just ask it, I beg it, that we would be people who cannot stop worshiping the Lamb who is worthy. That through the hard and the struggle and the moments that just seem so hopeless we would cling to the hope that He’s already won and our only response would be adoration and praise.Eyes on Him. Because when our love is not enough, His was. His is. After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” And the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God saying, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” –Revelation 5:9-12 Read more

2012-11-05T21:41:59+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-11-05 21:41:00

Last updated on: November 5, 2012 at 9:41 pm   By katie

It is my privilege to be able to introduce to you some of our phenomenal staff. These people have taught me so much and I am continually blown away by their wisdom and their joy in serving. I am so excited for you to "meet" Siraji. This man's dedicatio... Read more

2012-11-05T21:41:59+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-11-05 21:41:00

Last updated on: November 5, 2012 at 9:41 pm   By katie

It is my privilege to be able to introduce to you some of our phenomenal staff. These people have taught me so much and I am continually blown away by their wisdom and their joy in serving. I am so excited for you to "meet" Siraji. This man's dedicatio... Read more

2012-11-05T21:41:59+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-11-05 21:41:00

Last updated on: November 5, 2012 at 9:41 pm   By katie

It is my privilege to be able to introduce to you some of our phenomenal staff. These people have taught me so much and I am continually blown away by their wisdom and their joy in serving. I am so excited for you to "meet" Siraji. This man's dedicatio... Read more

2012-10-29T23:01:34+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-10-29 23:01:00

Last updated on: October 29, 2012 at 11:01 pm   By katie

My kitchen is painted yellow.Because yellow is the color of sunshine and of joy and because yellow is my favorite.It’s never quite as clean as I want it to be in here.Tonight as I stand in the after-bed-time quiet my eyes follow a trail of red footprints across this floor that is supposed to be white and the tears well. So many memories held here.This kitchen, this is there I serve. Many days, this kitchen is where I live. These counters, nicked and crumb covered, the sink, one side piled high with drying dishes, they could tell some stories. They’ve seen my joy as I gaze out the window at my laughing brood and raise still-soapy hands high in praise. They’ve seen the tears fall in defeat over the just-peeled carrots and the open pages of Psalms. They’ve heard my tongue snap in exasperation as another child screams through the kitchen and my whispered repentance later as I beg Him to make more of me. These walls have held late night laughter with dear friends and early morning remorse over broken dreams. They’ve held confessions and achievements and words, oh so many sweet words.The memories flood too quickly to contain them all.I see the night I came home and walked into this kitchen defeated and without a 4 year old and sweet friends gathered around to make super and their silence meant more than words.I see our first Thanksgiving here, mom pulling the stuffing out of the oven, kids dancing happy and people – oh so many people – who I love and so much joy spilling out of such a small space.I see myself standing here in the wee morning hours that shouldn’t even count as morning yet whisking high calorie milk for a child just barely clinging to life and I hear my loud cry for Jesus to save Him.I hear the pitter-patter of little feet over the bubbling of the coffee pot and the excited voice of my littlest as she announces that the chicks have “popped” in the first light of the morning, and I feel the way His mercy has washed over me in this place.I see hundreds of cooking lessons, little bodies crowded around a big pot, eager for their chance to measure, to pour, to stir. I see birthday cakes, so so many birthday cakes frosted and decorated with butterflies and flowers. I see whole wheat bread warm and rising in this oven, daily, and marvel at how He has been our daily bread.I see the day when the full weight of her past threatened to knock the breath right out of me, how I pressed my palms hard into these counter tops and willed myself to keep breathing and questioned everything that I knew to be true.I see the girls, gathered around the open computer screen and hear the voices of my mother and father and brother streaming across space and time zones and my heart aches with missing them but rejoices for love that bridges even oceans.I see people. Homeless mothers who have found their way to better life here. Children who have healed and become whole here. Friends who have found rest, family who have so greatly blessed, people I have loved, who have loved me. People who have known the Lord in this place.I have set foster babies on these counters next to casseroles for neighbors. And right here on these counters I have typed it all out, our lives, the beautiful and the ugly, between the stirring of the pots and the wiping of the noses, and the words turned to pages and the pages into a story.It’s almost too much this passing of time, the dying of dreams and the budding of new ones, this growing of babies into children and children into women and hearts to maturity. And I cry because I want to hold it all forever, His goodness in this place. I run fingers over knife-worn counters and time runs too fast. And people are sent out from here. People heading home and people heading off to new futures and one day, these girls, too. I serve meals in this kitchen but I want to serve them what counts. I want to offer them the living bread, the only food that truly fills.I have laughed here, I have wept here, I have created here, oh, I have prayed here. And here in this place, I have known Him more. I haven’t always done it right and some days I feel that I haven’t been enough, but I know that He has. He has. Right above the oven are painted the words of Acts, “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and generous hearts… and the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved,” and I know it like I know my own breath and the warmth of the sun on my skin, time passes, and they will go, and only He will remain. My eyes find the trail of footprints leading to the door, and through bated breath I ask it, beg it, “Lord, if I could have just one thing, could I have served them You?” Read more

2012-10-29T23:01:34+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-10-29 23:01:00

Last updated on: October 29, 2012 at 11:01 pm   By katie

My kitchen is painted yellow.Because yellow is the color of sunshine and of joy and because yellow is my favorite.It’s never quite as clean as I want it to be in here.Tonight as I stand in the after-bed-time quiet my eyes follow a trail of red footprints across this floor that is supposed to be white and the tears well. So many memories held here.This kitchen, this is there I serve. Many days, this kitchen is where I live. These counters, nicked and crumb covered, the sink, one side piled high with drying dishes, they could tell some stories. They’ve seen my joy as I gaze out the window at my laughing brood and raise still-soapy hands high in praise. They’ve seen the tears fall in defeat over the just-peeled carrots and the open pages of Psalms. They’ve heard my tongue snap in exasperation as another child screams through the kitchen and my whispered repentance later as I beg Him to make more of me. These walls have held late night laughter with dear friends and early morning remorse over broken dreams. They’ve held confessions and achievements and words, oh so many sweet words.The memories flood too quickly to contain them all.I see the night I came home and walked into this kitchen defeated and without a 4 year old and sweet friends gathered around to make super and their silence meant more than words.I see our first Thanksgiving here, mom pulling the stuffing out of the oven, kids dancing happy and people – oh so many people – who I love and so much joy spilling out of such a small space.I see myself standing here in the wee morning hours that shouldn’t even count as morning yet whisking high calorie milk for a child just barely clinging to life and I hear my loud cry for Jesus to save Him.I hear the pitter-patter of little feet over the bubbling of the coffee pot and the excited voice of my littlest as she announces that the chicks have “popped” in the first light of the morning, and I feel the way His mercy has washed over me in this place.I see hundreds of cooking lessons, little bodies crowded around a big pot, eager for their chance to measure, to pour, to stir. I see birthday cakes, so so many birthday cakes frosted and decorated with butterflies and flowers. I see whole wheat bread warm and rising in this oven, daily, and marvel at how He has been our daily bread.I see the day when the full weight of her past threatened to knock the breath right out of me, how I pressed my palms hard into these counter tops and willed myself to keep breathing and questioned everything that I knew to be true.I see the girls, gathered around the open computer screen and hear the voices of my mother and father and brother streaming across space and time zones and my heart aches with missing them but rejoices for love that bridges even oceans.I see people. Homeless mothers who have found their way to better life here. Children who have healed and become whole here. Friends who have found rest, family who have so greatly blessed, people I have loved, who have loved me. People who have known the Lord in this place.I have set foster babies on these counters next to casseroles for neighbors. And right here on these counters I have typed it all out, our lives, the beautiful and the ugly, between the stirring of the pots and the wiping of the noses, and the words turned to pages and the pages into a story.It’s almost too much this passing of time, the dying of dreams and the budding of new ones, this growing of babies into children and children into women and hearts to maturity. And I cry because I want to hold it all forever, His goodness in this place. I run fingers over knife-worn counters and time runs too fast. And people are sent out from here. People heading home and people heading off to new futures and one day, these girls, too. I serve meals in this kitchen but I want to serve them what counts. I want to offer them the living bread, the only food that truly fills.I have laughed here, I have wept here, I have created here, oh, I have prayed here. And here in this place, I have known Him more. I haven’t always done it right and some days I feel that I haven’t been enough, but I know that He has. He has. Right above the oven are painted the words of Acts, “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and generous hearts… and the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved,” and I know it like I know my own breath and the warmth of the sun on my skin, time passes, and they will go, and only He will remain. My eyes find the trail of footprints leading to the door, and through bated breath I ask it, beg it, “Lord, if I could have just one thing, could I have served them You?” Read more

2012-10-29T23:01:34+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-10-29 23:01:00

Last updated on: October 29, 2012 at 11:01 pm   By katie

My kitchen is painted yellow.Because yellow is the color of sunshine and of joy and because yellow is my favorite.It’s never quite as clean as I want it to be in here.Tonight as I stand in the after-bed-time quiet my eyes follow a trail of red footprints across this floor that is supposed to be white and the tears well. So many memories held here.This kitchen, this is there I serve. Many days, this kitchen is where I live. These counters, nicked and crumb covered, the sink, one side piled high with drying dishes, they could tell some stories. They’ve seen my joy as I gaze out the window at my laughing brood and raise still-soapy hands high in praise. They’ve seen the tears fall in defeat over the just-peeled carrots and the open pages of Psalms. They’ve heard my tongue snap in exasperation as another child screams through the kitchen and my whispered repentance later as I beg Him to make more of me. These walls have held late night laughter with dear friends and early morning remorse over broken dreams. They’ve held confessions and achievements and words, oh so many sweet words.The memories flood too quickly to contain them all.I see the night I came home and walked into this kitchen defeated and without a 4 year old and sweet friends gathered around to make super and their silence meant more than words.I see our first Thanksgiving here, mom pulling the stuffing out of the oven, kids dancing happy and people – oh so many people – who I love and so much joy spilling out of such a small space.I see myself standing here in the wee morning hours that shouldn’t even count as morning yet whisking high calorie milk for a child just barely clinging to life and I hear my loud cry for Jesus to save Him.I hear the pitter-patter of little feet over the bubbling of the coffee pot and the excited voice of my littlest as she announces that the chicks have “popped” in the first light of the morning, and I feel the way His mercy has washed over me in this place.I see hundreds of cooking lessons, little bodies crowded around a big pot, eager for their chance to measure, to pour, to stir. I see birthday cakes, so so many birthday cakes frosted and decorated with butterflies and flowers. I see whole wheat bread warm and rising in this oven, daily, and marvel at how He has been our daily bread.I see the day when the full weight of her past threatened to knock the breath right out of me, how I pressed my palms hard into these counter tops and willed myself to keep breathing and questioned everything that I knew to be true.I see the girls, gathered around the open computer screen and hear the voices of my mother and father and brother streaming across space and time zones and my heart aches with missing them but rejoices for love that bridges even oceans.I see people. Homeless mothers who have found their way to better life here. Children who have healed and become whole here. Friends who have found rest, family who have so greatly blessed, people I have loved, who have loved me. People who have known the Lord in this place.I have set foster babies on these counters next to casseroles for neighbors. And right here on these counters I have typed it all out, our lives, the beautiful and the ugly, between the stirring of the pots and the wiping of the noses, and the words turned to pages and the pages into a story.It’s almost too much this passing of time, the dying of dreams and the budding of new ones, this growing of babies into children and children into women and hearts to maturity. And I cry because I want to hold it all forever, His goodness in this place. I run fingers over knife-worn counters and time runs too fast. And people are sent out from here. People heading home and people heading off to new futures and one day, these girls, too. I serve meals in this kitchen but I want to serve them what counts. I want to offer them the living bread, the only food that truly fills.I have laughed here, I have wept here, I have created here, oh, I have prayed here. And here in this place, I have known Him more. I haven’t always done it right and some days I feel that I haven’t been enough, but I know that He has. He has. Right above the oven are painted the words of Acts, “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and generous hearts… and the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved,” and I know it like I know my own breath and the warmth of the sun on my skin, time passes, and they will go, and only He will remain. My eyes find the trail of footprints leading to the door, and through bated breath I ask it, beg it, “Lord, if I could have just one thing, could I have served them You?” Read more

2012-10-26T16:31:31+03:00

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

on earth as it is in heaven 2012-10-26 08:06:00

Last updated on: October 26, 2012 at 4:31 pm   By katie

Ever wonder what we are up to on a Saturday?Come and see! Read more

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