Faith

Zuni Lessons Part Two

May 17, 2012 – 12:49

This is my last Zuni post of the year, but not forever since I will continue going to this quiet reservation every Spring Break that I can.  Here are the final lessons I learned from this year’s trip.

I learned that you can diffuse a potentially very awkward and embarrassing moment by laughing, giving a thumb’s up, and saying, “You got me good!” when a volleyball is spiked in your face and blood instantly begins to pour out of your nose. (Bryce’s reaction made us fall to the ground with side-splitting laughter.  And yes, a Meet the Parents reference was made.)

I learned that if you accidentally dress like a high schooler, you’ll feel pretty cool.

But then I was reminded of my age and true “un”coolness when I tried to master the ripstick again this year and ended up, not only falling to the ground, but taking out a student with me who had been trying to help balance me.

I learned several lessons during an afternoon of hiking.  For instance, I learned that if you grab a cattail (the bush, not an actual tail), it will explode into a thousand tiny flakes that will sting your eyes and cling to your clothes.

We city-folk discovered this lesson purely by accident, but then had a little too much fun surprising other unsuspecting victims and convincing them to pull on the cattail.

*I learned from a student that jumping from one rock to another, with imminent death on the other side of the cliff, makes for great entertainment for all.

Yes, I was the chaperon, but Bryce’s mom was standing beside me egging him on.  ”If he misses the jump, he won’t die.  He’ll just need a few stitches.”  Yes, I do want to be like her when I grow up.

* I also learned that snakes found in the wild are much more frightening than snakes at the zoo…

and sometimes the best place for lunch is on a bed made of rock.  (As long as there are no snakes)

* I learned that wind is frustrating when you’re running or wearing a skirt, but when hiking on steep cliffs, it’s really quite fun.  Unless you’re afraid of heights- in which case, wind can be quite terrifying.

* I discovered that climbing down the butt crack of a giant rock is way more fun than it sounds…

and finally, I learned that when you go hiking for an afternoon, you really should wear sunblock.

I also relearned some lessons that God has been pounding into my head for years.  I was reminded on this trip that He has gifted us each uniquely, so we shouldn’t envy the gifts others have, but rather rejoice in the way He has made us.  I learned this throughout the week as I watched musicians and photographers and athletes and artists do their thing.  I watched leaders and encouragers and servants and teachers thrive as they stepped into their strengths and used the gifts God has bestowed on them.

One night we talked about how it is tempting to look at the gifts He has given others and grow envious.  It is tempting to wish we were different and begrudge God for not giving us other gifts. But in doing so, we insult our Maker and claim to know more than He.  I was reminded of this lesson as I read the Message translation of Ephesians 1:11-12

“It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone.”

If you skimmed through that like I usually do when reading a quote, go back and read it again.  It’s kind of awesome.

Did you do it?

No, here’s your second chance.

Okay, moving on.  On a similar note, in verse 10 of chapter 2 in Ephesians,Paul says,

“He creates each of us by Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he has gotten ready for us to do, work we had better be doing.”

During Zuni this year I was reminded that God has work for each of us.  Different work.  Requiring different skills.  I saw this all week watching our students use their gifts and be used by God to bring joy to this tiny Zuni school.

I was especially reminded of this as I watched Madi, who happens to be a little person, in action.

I’m pretty sure I meant to photo-bomb this picture, but my confused expression is so genuine that I’m not 100% certain it was intentional.

Madi blew me away during this week.  She had spoken in chapel about what it’s like to be a little person and how she’s come to accept that this is God’s plan for her, but I had never gotten to really watch her in public.  On a tiny reservation, no one had ever seen a little person before so there was snickering and ogling and pointing.  I was livid when I heard it, but then I remembered Madi talking about how she gets it all the time.  And I realized for the for the first time how hard it must be to step out in public and be laughed at or pointed at all the time.

I can’t imagine.  I mean sure, I do some embarrassing things in public, but on most days I can fit right in with the crowd.  Madi never can.

I remembered her speaking about how she knows God made her this way for a reason and she’s continually discovering that reason.  I learned so much from watching this determined, joyful soul and her joy spilled out when she went crowd surfing.

But I’ll get to that in a minute.

Background story: Our school supports a Zuni woman who is a single mother with a beautiful story of brokenness and redemption.  We’ll call her Karen.  The school pays for her to send her two boys to the Zuni Christian school, so she invited us over for ice cream Sundays one night.  And this seemingly mundane evening turned into one I will never forget.

Earlier that day we had visited a Zuni home where the Zuni religion is practiced.  The house was dark and musty and though “Cake Wars” was humming in the background, the room felt foreign with all the idols and figurines hanging on the walls.  There was a palpable heaviness inside.

But then we went to Karen’s home and felt a stark contrast.  Instead of idols hanging on the walls, there were bible verses and deer heads.  Instead of darkness, there was light.  And instead of heaviness, there was joy.

(Please look past our “joyful” faces to note the scripture on the wall.)

(Nothing says “I love Jesus” like a dead deer on the wall.  There were three total and they were awesome.)

Karen served us sundays and then shared her story- an all too common tale of addiction and abuse.  But the uncommon twist in her tale began the Sunday she walked to the grocery store with her sons and it was closed.  Next to the store, the church was singing joyfully and her boys wanted to go inside.  Joyful music seems to have a magnetic pull.  So does Jesus.  Karen and her boys went inside and thus began her journey to pursuing Christ.

The journey has not been an easy one.  When she found Jesus, her problems didn’t disappear.  Alcoholism was still a very real struggle.  But she gained a new perspective and she gained a new family of supportive believers to help her through the struggle.  She still faces trials that we couldn’t fathom, but she has a deep reliance and gratefulness to her Savior that was truly inspiring.

After she shared her story, we sang a bit and then like any normal church service, we started a game of down-by-the-banks.  I had told the students about how I use this game in any country when I don’t speak the language.  Everyone loves slapping hands.  So I was so proud of them when they decided to circle up and start a game.

In that moment, playing a silly game in a Zuni woman’s home, I felt full.  The world felt right.  So THIS is the abundant life Jesus spoke of.

And then things got even greater.  Because sweet Madi mentioned to Mr. Mulder that she had always wanted to crowd surf.  Mr. Mulder, a go-getter and adrenaline junkie, instantly lifted her up and there in the tiny living room of a Zuni woman, Madi surfed across the crowd.

Jeff, our leader, later spoke of how that moment felt like a glimpse of heaven.

Angel, a student and pillow-pet enthusiast, later spoke of how that evening felt like a gathering of the early church.

The book of Acts makes no references to Paul crowd-surfing in the homes in Ephesus or Galatia, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.  Right?

That evening in Karen’s living room tasted of heaven and felt so right because we checked our worries and selfishness at the door and were able to enter into a moment of true worship and genuine fellowship.  In reality, all we did was eat and listen and sing and play.  But something so much greater was happening that night as heaven dipped down and mingled with earth.  It is those moments that I hunger for- moments where the kingdom of God feels closer and more real than the earthly one.

So I left Zuni this year with a redneck sunburn, a suitcase full of dirty clothes, a journal full of lessons, and a heart full of joy.  I’ll keep going back to Zuni because selfishly, I love the lessons, I crave the joy, and I hunger for those tastes of God’s kingdom.

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Faith Misc Confessions

911 Calls and My Jetta

May 15, 2012 – 13:59

I’ve called 9-1-1 twice in my life.  Both times involved my Jetta.  The first time was 5 years ago when I was babysitting infant Vander.  He was asleep when I heard a loud a crash outside my sister’s house.  When I went outside to investigate, I noticed two things.  1- my car that had been parked in front of the house was gone.  And 2- in place of my car there was an elderly Indian man sitting in a car with exploded airbags and flailing arms.

My first thought was, “This old man is on drugs!”

My second thought was, “Dude, where’s my car?”

I looked down the street and saw that my lil’ Jetta had been pushed three houses down.  Then I looked closer at the man and saw blood and foam coming out of his mouth.  And I panicked.

A couple happened to be walking by right at that moment.  It was five years ago and I can still hear the guy say, “Ohhhh shit.”

And with that, I sprang into action.  I remembered my CPR training and raised my hand to announce, “I’ll call 911!”  Luckily, I had memorized Heidi’s address that day because I had had paranoid daydreams about a robber breaking into the house during the night while I huddled with Vander in a closet, calling for help and panicking because I didn’t know my sister’s address.  ”Ummm, we’re at a house in Fullerton.  It’s yellow and has a red door.  Come quick!”

Since I had already practiced my 911 call in my head earlier that day and had the address memorized, I felt confident that I would be cool and collected when the operator answered.  But I wasn’t.

Nobody but the operator heard that call and yet I’m still embarrassed by it.  I was a blubbering fool.  I still remember saying, “You need to send someone fast.  Like REALLY fast.  This guy is really, really hurt.”  And I was sobbing.  I remember thinking, “This is NOT how it looks on the CPR videos.  Good thing I don’t actually have to give CPR.”

Turns out the man had had a seizure while driving and had crashed into my car, sending it propelling backwards down the street. The airbags had knocked out several of his teeth, hence the blood, but the firemen said he would be fine.  Insurance paid for the damages on my car and all was well.  But fast forward five years and just yesterday, the Jetta was involved in another accident.  And I made another embarrassing 911 call.

First, some background.  I typically drive about 80 on the freeway.  However, I’ve been reading One Thousand Blessings by Anne Voskamp and have been making a conscientious effort to slow down and notice the blessings in my life.  So I’ve moved out of the fast lane (figuratively and literally) and slowed down to 70 mph on the freeway.  Only in California would I be punished for this.

While driving home yesterday, a car whizzed past me and swerved around another car, narrowly missing it.  He must have been going over 100.  I thought to myself, “He needs to read One Thousand Blessings.”  Then I looked in my rearview mirror and noticed an SUV riding my tail super close.  I said aloud to myself, “What the hell?”  (Apparently I’ve got a long way to go until I’m more like Anne Voskamp.)

Whenever I am tailgated, I am a little bit offended and a lot annoyed.  So I do the natural thing and brake, just to piss the person off more.  Except this time, I picked the wrong car to mess with.  You guys, the man RAMMED my car!  I was furious.  And emotional.  And confused.  So when he sped past me, I didn’t have the clarity of thought to take a picture of his license.  I knew I had to get his plate but all I could remember was “6G…..”  I had a two second glance and in that two seconds here is what I thought:

“Remember his plates!”

“Okay, 6..G… ahhhhh I can’t do it!”

So I tried to follow him.  I called my sister and left a super embarrassing message on her phone.  Something to the effect of, “Heidi, (heavy breath), I’m chasing a guy on the freeway (another panicked breath) trying to get his plates.  I need you remember it….(heavy breath)….Crap.  I lost him.”  Click.

He was going over 100 and swerving in and out of the carpool lane.  My little Jetta doesn’t gun it like she used to and the “check engine” light has been on for weeks, so I gave up.  I called 911 because I wanted them to catch that dastardly fool.  After my breathy message on my sister’s phone, I thought I had my emotions in check, but something about talking to a 911 operator turns me into a panicked, weepy wreck.

I was able to hold back the tears this time.  But just barely.  I was so worked up on the phone because of the injustice of it all.  This moron had rammed me on the road and gotten away with it.  There have been MANY times that I’ve wanted to ram incompetent drivers, but I’ve never considered actually doing it.  I talked to my brother the cop about it and expressed my frustrations that “he’ll never be punished.”  He responded with, “Yes he will.  If he’s that big of an idiot, it will catch up with him.”  Wise words from my little bro.

As I sat and waited for an officer to come take the report, I did my devotions.  (Mainly because I needed to get my breathing under control so I wouldn’t look like such an emotional fool when the officer arrived.) My bible study group has been reading through Acts and week after week we’ve been talking about how Paul continued to face crazy persecution and continued to walk straight into it, never shying away from hostile cities or crowds even when others pleaded with him to avoid certain places.

Jerusalem was one such city filled with people who wanted Paul dead.  And as he left his friends in Ephesus, Paul said, “And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there.  I only know that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me.  However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me- the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace.” (Acts 20:22-24)

Then, in Acts 21, a prophet told him Paul would be handed over and imprisoned when he went to Jerusalem.  Naturally, his friends tried to persuade him not to go to the city.  Paul’s response? “I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.” (verse 13) 

Wha-aat?  Somehow I think Paul’s 911 calls would have sounded a little different than mine.

Once he reached Jerusalem, he was met with murderous hostility and at one point “The dispute became so violent that the commander was afraid Paul would be torn to pieces by them.” (Acts 23:10)

If an angry mob was trying to pull my limbs off, I’m pretty sure I would have been a peeing my pants and sobbing.  Basically, liquids would be squirting out of me every which way.  I mean, I get worked up over a little hit-in-run accident, so I can only imagine how frantic I would become if my life was actually in danger.

Yesterday, while sitting at a gas station waiting for the cops to show up and reading about Paul, I realized how panicked I get and how quickly I lose perspective when I’m placed in an intense situation.  And I felt so silly about my frantic responses.  Especially when I realized the kind of crazy, panic-inducing situations Paul was in.  And he never seemed to panic.  In fact, he boldly strutted into those intense moments that would have made me cry and hyperventilate and probably pee myself.

Surely Paul must have been frightened at some point.  Surely he was a little nervous when angry mobs were trying to MURDER him! If he was, he hid his fear much better than I.  Plus, the verse following the one explaining how the mob was trying to rip off his arms and legs, says this: “The following night the Lord stood near Paul and said, ‘Take courage!  As you have testified about me in Jerusalem, so you must also testify in Rome.” (verse 11)

I’ve got a long way to go before I become the type of bold, fearless servant that Paul was, but I too have heard from the Lord.  I wasn’t in prison at the time, and I’ve never seen Him, but He’s spoken and it is His words that are able to calm my nerves no matter the situation.  Paul was much better than I am at “keeping his cool” during intense moments, but he also was much better at constantly remembering why he was alive.

He’s the guy who said, “I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things.” (Phil 3:8) And, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.  The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Gal 2:20)

I would love to say this is true of me too, but my reactions don’t always reflect this kind of living.

Paul had this nutty kind of perspective where he saw the world with eternity always in mind.  He never seemed to forget why he was living- to “testify to the gospel of God’s grace.”  And this crazy kind of perspective led him to do crazy kinds of things.  I can say that I have that perspective too and constantly remember why I’m here on earth, but then I’m thrown into a whirlwind situation where I have to call 911 and I so quickly forget.  I so quickly chuck off my “eternal lenses” and slip on my “earthly lenses,” seeing the world from a human viewpoint rather than God’s.

My 911 call was a wake up call for me.  A reminder of what I am striving for- striving to become someone like Paul who continually sees the world from an eternal point of view.  Someone who is continually bold and fearless and so desperately in love with Jesus that nothing in this world can make me fear or worry or turn into a blubbering fool when talking to a 911 operator.

The Jetta has a series of scratches on her bumper now, war wounds from California driving, and they remind me to keep eternal perspective and to pray that God would make me bold and fearless and more zealous for Him in all situations.  They also remind me to  stop purposely pissing off drivers on the road.

After this little run-in on the freeway, my sister told me about how she often practices memorizing license plates.  Apparently, she’s thought about being in situations where she’ll need to glance at a plate and remember it.  Man, I wish I had been practicing that skill!  So now I’m curious, have any of you have done this before too?

Also, have you ever called 911?  If so, did you sound as foolish as I did?  Please tell me I’m not alone!

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Faith

Zuni Lessons Part One

May 11, 2012 – 13:36

I go to Zuni each year with the mindset of a sponge.  No, not that of Bob.  (Although I do enjoy hamburgers and kinda wish I had a squirrel friend).  I arrive on the reservation ready and eager to learn, excited to soak up whatever lessons God has for me.  This year much of what I learned had to do with how to serve and I learned loads about service from simply observing the students.  For instance, I learned that

* sometimes the best way to be Christ to someone, is to wrap them in toilet paper…

… or teach them how to dissect a cow eyeball…

… or encourage them as they walk on a tight rope.

* Sometimes the best way to point someone to Jesus is to make balloon spiders with them…

… or teach them about worms…

…. or give them piggyback rides until you’re a sweaty, exhausted mess.

* Sometimes the best way to evangelize is to laugh…

… or sing……. or make snacks and silly faces.

* Sometimes the best way to serve is to listen…

… or mop…

… or swing kids until your arms feel like they’re about to fall off.

* And lastly, sometimes the best place to have “church” is on top of a cliff…

…. or on a playground…

…. or in a Zuni woman’s living room complete with deer heads on the wall.

The next post will about the “church service” we had in this room under the careful gaze of the stuffed deer.  It involved ice cream sundays, a moving story, a rousing game of down-by-the-banks, and a bit of crowd surfing.  It is a service I will never forget.

(photos courtesy of Erica Streelman and her minions)

Apart from the kids, I also learned lessons from two men who have been serving God with their whole lives for quite some time.

Jeff, our leader of the trip and the man in charge of missions at Valley, is one of those people who seems to constantly call forth words of wisdom straight from the lips of Jesus.  He’s one of those rare souls who is quick to listen and slow to speak.  But when he does speak, man oh man, I listen hard.

This year, he spoke about the fact that when we go to “serve,” we are going to meet with Jesus and to build friendships with others.  We don’t go to be their servants; we go to be their friends.  Because if we come with the mindset that we are serving the poor, unfortunate souls in desperate need of what we have, we somehow start to feel superior to them.

We forget that the “needy” we go to serve are rich in ways that we are not.  When we see those whom we serve as the lowly, we place ourselves above them.  We see ourselves as the “blessed” and start to take pride in our acts of service.  We take pride in serving when really we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing all the time, namely loving God and loving others.

Pastor Meekof, who has been living and serving in Zuni for decades, spoke to this same issue when said, “The minute you become ‘religious’, grace goes out the door.”  The minute we start “doing good deeds” to earn God’s favor, we’ve forgotten the monumental truth that God can never love us any more than He already does.  We don’t deserve His love; nor can we earn it.

He explained the importance of checking our motives when we serve and said that thanksgiving should be our driving motivation.  We should serve because that is how we say ‘thank you’ to our creator.  We don’t serve to feel better about ourselves or to make God love us more.

We go to say thanks.

I’ve been chewing on this truth ever since we returned, and I’m trying to learn how to say “thanks” to God with my whole life.

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Misc Confessions

To the cat who has been peeing on my balcony, coming into my room when I’m not home, and eating my cat’s food

May 9, 2012 – 13:54

I hate you.

And, yes, that was me who rolled down her car window and hissed at you last week.

Sincerely,

the girl who now keeps rocks at her desk so she is prepared should you dare to show your ugly face on her balcony again

ps- I still can’t find the spot the where you peed in my room yesterday.

pps- THIS. MEANS. WAR.

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Faith

Zuni Benches Part One

May 3, 2012 – 20:56

I have a thing for benches.  I’m kind of obsessed.  I see an open one and I’m always itching to sit.

It’s weird.  I know.

But for years God has been meeting me on benches.  So benches have become like portals for me- my own wardrobe into Narnia.  Except, instead of stumbling into a winter wonderland with fauns and talking beavers, I sit on splintered wood and am transported into the eye of a storm, the peaceful calm that exists only in God’s midst while the world rages wildly around us.

I can still see myself perched on benches in gardens at Westmont.

I found a special one overlooking the ocean in a Mozambican park.

I napped on an especially peaceful one at the base of the Swiss Alps.

And each Spring break I return to the benches outside Zuni Christian School on the Zuni Reservation.  I’ve talked so much about these particular benches that the students this year asked if they could share my benches.  Sure enough, I’d often be reading my bible with a student sitting on the adjacent bench reading his/her own bible.  I loved that.  These kids are eager to hear from God and I was more than happy to welcome them to a spot where God’s whispers are amplified.

Other days these benches were the spot for jam sessions as seen here:

It’s not that these benches, or any benches for that matter, are magical.  But I’ve found that when I find a quiet place on the planet and a quiet place in my soul and just sit, something magical does seem to happen.  It is in such places that suddenly my vision seems to sharpen and I notice the spiritual realm that is always around us but is so typically ignored.  Suddenly, the cacophony of the world’s lies are muted and I can clearly hear the words of truth and peace that are always being spoken but are so often disregarded.

This year in the moments of quiet, there were two incidences in which God seemed to shout in the stillness.  The first occurred on Easter Sunday.

Typically I spend Easter surrounded by my extended family, chowing down on ham and Presbyterian potatoes, and trying not to get too competitive during the egg hunt.  I love Easter with my family, so I was a bit bummed that I’d be missing out on the festivities this year.  Turns out God had some sweet other plans and though there was no $100 golden egg involved (that’s how we roll!), there was a priceless moment that involved the benches outside the school.

We had driven all day Saturday to arrive in Zuni, and by the time we got there, I was beat.  Like so beat that I was hallucinating near the end of the drive and kept seeing giraffes walking on the side of the road.  So when the girls in my van suggested a sunrise service the next day, I secretly hoped they would flake.  High schoolers are notorious flakes and my tired body was really hoping this would be one of those times.

It wasn’t.

More than half the group chose to wake up at 6 AM and sit in the predawn cold on my beloved benches.  This year’s group was overflowing with musical talent, so the kids led us in worship songs and one of the girls read the resurrection story from Luke.  We sat shivering in the quiet of the reservation and I smiled, looking around at the group of sleepy-eyed high schoolers with eager hearts and bed head.  They were finding what I had already discovered.  God shows up in the quiet.  Or rather, He can be seen and heard when we tune out the noise of the world.

When we finished singing, our group went for a walk and right as we turned the corner and entered a small grove by the riverbed, the sun rose from behind the distant hills.  It was one of those majestic sunrises where no words are sufficient, so we simply shuffled on in silence.  The air was still and crisp, the morning full of promise and wonder, much how I imagined that first Easter morning.

So as we slowly walked towards the rising sun, I kept thinking about the following verse in the resurrection story, “Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb.”

I pictured Peter sprinting past us in the early morning, desperate to see if what the women had said was true.  I thought about the deep disappointment and confusion he must have been grappling with and the urgency he must have felt in seeing Jesus alive.  And I understood why he ran.

As we continued to walk, I realized that so often I walk to Jesus rather than run.  I get distracted and lose focus and forget why I’m living, forget that this life is a race I’m supposed to be running.  But Peter didn’t walk to the tomb.  He ran.  He was desperate and determined and sprinted to that place where he could be with Jesus.

I imagined him picking up his skirt-like garb, face full of desperate hope, bookin’ it full speed to the tomb.  This is what I want for myself.  I too want a face full of desperate hope.  I too want to book it to Jesus, confident that it is only in Him that I find meaning and purpose, that only He brings true peace and lasting joy.  Confident that it is only He who can answer my questions, satisfy my longings and fulfill my every need.

Once we were in the middle of a field, our group paused and silently drank in the stillness.  With the rising sun warm on our faces, we gulped down the wonder before us.  We eventually turned our faces and returned to the school.  And though our steps were slow, I felt like in that moment, we were like Peter, running to our Savior, eager to see His face.

This trip was full of still moments like these.  Moments when we were so quiet that God’s voice was loud and we wanted to run to Him.  This is one of the many reasons I love going to Zuni.  I love these moments and I really love these benches.

Somehow, someway those old strips of wood always seem to usher me into the throne room of God.

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Faith Family

A Letter to my Goddaughter

April 30, 2012 – 12:58

Dear Cambria,

Consider this the first of many birthday cards from your weird Aunt Katie.  I rarely am on time when it comes to birthday cards and presents (or getting to places in general), so it is fitting that on your zeroth birthday, I’m a few days late.  On Wednesday, April 25th 2012 at 4:08 PM, you slipped quietly into our world.  I was in the room and Cami, it was hands down thee most incredible thing I have EVER witnessed.  (Yes, this means I’ve seen you naked.  We all have.  Your uncle Trent even made a comment about your nipple placement.)

There are some things you should know about what took place in that delivery room on your day of birth.  First, your dad was an incredible coach and encourager.  He was rapping with the midwife and attentive to your mom’s every need.  And your mom?  Holy moly, Cambria, she was a super star!  She was calm and strong and smiling even between gulps of oxygen.  At one point she was cracking jokes about how your Bumpa reads Jodi Picoult books.

Speaking of Bumpa, you should know that he was in the waiting room with your Aunt Heidi and Uncle Trent and two of your dad’s goof-ball friends.  Those boys brought a ball for you and played with it for 3 hours straight.  We all thought they’d get kicked out for the rough-housing that went on during a competitive round of “3 flies up.”

Your grandma was in the delivery room too.   She was pacing around the room like a caged animal until you appeared.  Then she basically knocked down the nurses to get her hands on you.  And you, Cami, you were perfect and precious.  I cried a little, your mom cried a lot, your dad was concerned that you weren’t crying at all, but you were fine.  Better than fine.   You were beautiful!  It was a wildly intense and truly miraculous moment when you first arrived, Cambria, a moment I’ll never forget.

You came out “face up” and were a bit stunned when you left the womb.  I get it.  It’s bright out here.  I prefer natural lighting too.  But Cami, here’s the thing, there are going to be LOTS of things in this world that stun you.  So as your aunt and godmother, I feel it is my duty to prepare you for some of the shocking truths of the world you just entered and give you some tips for survival.

First, you need to know that you have two of the kindest and goofiest parents on the planet.  Be thankful for them every day.

And if you ever get in trouble for swearing, know that when your dad was eight, he said the F word. I told on him and he got his mouth washed out with soap.  You have my permission to remind him of this.

If you ever get in trouble for burping at the dinner table, know that your mom can out-belch every single family member, any day of the week.  The first time I heard her, I knew I wanted her to be my sister forever.

Cami, I hate to tell you this, but you need to know that in this world bad things happen to good people on a regular basis.  And vice versa.  It sucks but it doesn’t mean that God is not good, nor does it mean that He’s not in control.  Because it won’t always be this way.  In the end, He wins.  Don’t ever forget that.

You also need to be aware that sometimes you will sneeze and accidentally fart at the same time.  We call it a snart and it happens to everyone, so don’t be too embarrassed.

If you ever need fashion advice, you’ve got some super trendy aunts.  I’m not one of them.  But if you need advice on how to freeze a wart or handle a REALLY awkward situation, I’m your girl.

You may have noticed by now that you have some freakishly long toes.  You can blame those on your great bumpa Hardeman.  We’ve all got ‘em.  Pedicures help to hide the freakishness.

I hope you’ve also noticed by now that your parents love each other in a crazy kind of way.  There’s is a love you should look for.  Don’t settle for less.  They love each other with all their hearts, and when they don’t “feel” like loving, they CHOOSE to love each other.  No matter how many fairy tale movies you watch, remember that loving people isn’t always easy.  Happily Ever Afters are riddled with hurdles and hardships.

Speaking of marriage, you’ve got some incredible examples before you.  Pay close attention to how your parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles love each other.  You’ve got a rare gift being surrounded by so many strong marriages.  And if I’m not married by the time you’re reading this, I probably have lots of cats.  I really hope you’re not allergic like your mom.

Cami, this next tip is very important.  Ready?  Here it is.  When you use a public restroom, ALWAYS check the roll before you start to go.  There’s nothing worse than having to use a scratchy toilet seat cover to wipe your butt.  That’s not true.  There are a lot of worse things.  But trust me, it’s no fun.

You should know that middle school will probably be kinda terrible.  Nobody looks cute in those years, everyone’s bodies are changing, and everything is pretty awkward.  Hold your breath and endure it.

And in high school your problems and the drama will always seem huge.  Ask God to help you see the world and your worries from His perspective.  Those mountains will shrink to molehills in no time.

If you’re ever bored, google the following:

Zac Morris

JTT

NSYNC

Leonardo DiCaprio

Prince William

These were the boys we loved.  Just about every girl our age was certain Prince William would fall in love with us if we ever met.  (But he REALLY would have chosen me had we met.)  Also, you should know that Zac Morris was way cooler than Zac Efron.  I mean, the guy had a cell phone before ANYONE else.  I hope the celebrity boys your age are just as amazing as ours.

Speaking of boys, I’m not exactly an “expert” in this area, but here are some things you should know about them:

First, they play a lot of video games.  No one really knows why.  In fact, on the day of your birth, your Uncle Trent wrote the following on your dad’s facebook wall:

Yeah, Cami.  Boys are weird.  Don’t even attempt to understand their obsession with these games.  Here are some other things you should know about this strange breed:

- The dorky ones will probably fall in love with you.  Be nice to them.  Even the ones that smell bad and talk about dragons.  Try to remember that God made them too.

- The mean ones will probably make you cry.  Be nice to them too.  Even when it’s hard and you’d rather kick ‘em in the nuts.  Try to remember that God made them too.

- The shy ones won’t always be shy.  The ugly ones won’t always be ugly.  The cool ones won’t always be cool.  Be nice to them all.  But not TOO nice, if you know what I mean…

There are some things you need to know about girls, too.  First, you may have realized by now that we can be terribly mean.  We like to laugh at others and gossip, but Cami, gossip is poison and will destroy friendships. Once you begin to dabble in it, it’s tough to quit.  So run from it.  Run fast.

Second, choose your friends wisely.  They will determine how fun school can be, so find the goofy ones who love Jesus and aren’t afraid to be themselves but who also aren’t obsessed with themselves.  Find the ones who will share their snacks and their hearts with you.  Find the ones who listen well and laugh often.  Then hold on to them.

And finally, realize that even if you find the most loyal friends on the planet, they will all let you down at some point.  In fact, WE will all let you down.  I will.  Your parents will.  Your whole family will.  Those moments are never fun, but cling to the truth that God will NEVER let you down.  Even if you’re disappointed by how He answers your prayers, He knows you better and loves you more than any friend or family member ever can or will.  Cling to that, Cambria.

Your parents are two fine-looking specimen so you’re probably going to be a bombshell.  But try to remember that your face doesn’t define you; your heart does and your God does.  And if you end up with the Hardeman curse of grounder zits, come to me with your acne woes.  I’ve tried just about every soap on the market and can teach you tricks for best coverage.

If you get your mom’s love of reading, you will want to constantly have your nose in a book.  You might even get in trouble at school for reading when you should be listening.  It’s okay.  I did too.  And I have hundreds of book recommendations that I can’t wait to share with you.

If you get your dad’s love of ice cream, you will want to eat giant bowls of it all the time.  One day all that ice cream will cling to places on your body that you definitely don’t want it to cling to.  So before that day comes, my advice is to dig in.  Enjoy it while you can, and then when you hit your twenties and your metabolism slows down, start running.

Your parents are amazing examples of how to put others before themselves.  Watch and learn.  They’ll teach you how to love others and love God and if you can do those two things well, your life will be rich and full.

Cami, you need to know that you will face temptations every day.  For one, you will be tempted to lie to your parents.  But don’t.  The truth may have immediate consequences, but it is always the best choice.  Small lies chip away at your integrity and corrode your character.  Don’t fall into that trap or you will become a crumbly mess.

You will be tempted to make fun of others because everyone else is doing it.  But don’t.  Try to see them as Jesus does and change the subject when girls start their slandering.  It won’t always be easy, but it will always be right.  And if that means those girls don’t invite you to a slumber party and you’re lonely on a Friday night, A) find some new friends and B) come to my house and we’ll eat huge bowls of ice cream.

You will be tempted to conform to fit in.  But don’t.  Cami, I still regret those awful tube tops I wore 15 years ago.  Fitting in is overrated.  Surround yourself with friends who are okay looking and sounding different.  Remember that God made you a certain way for a reason.  Conforming is like telling Him that He messed up.  And Cami, He NEVER messes up.

You will be tempted to compare yourself to other girls.  But don’t.  Because again, God designed you with specific gifts for a reason.  Don’t piss on His plans because you wish you had so-and-so’s hair or what’s-her-name’s voice.  (Actually, if you’ve got your mom’s voice, other girls will probably be wishing they had yours.  But if you got the Hardeman voice, you will be tempted to envy those who can carry a tune.)

You will be tempted to text your friends during class.  But don’t.  Instead, write long hand-written notes to your friends, cover it in doodles, and fold the paper up in neat ways.  That’s how we did it before cell phones and they were WAY more fun than texts.  Plus, you can keep these for years and embarrass your friends 15 years later when you bust out the note they wrote proclaiming their love for Leonardo DiCaprio.  Hypothetically speaking.

And finally, you will be tempted to find your worth and identity in your looks and abilities.  But DON’T!  This one is reeeeeally hard but reeeeeally important.  Ask God for His eyes to see yourself as He does.  Read the bible every day and it will begin to sink in that He loves you in this unbelievable, unconditional, almost too-good-to-be-true kind of way.  Once you understand this truth, life gets WAY better.

Now Cami, about your periods.  Always put them at the end of sentences.   I’ll teach you about commas and the correct spellings of “there” when the time comes.

I love you, dear little one, and I will be praying for you for the rest of my days.

Love,

Aunt Katie

ps- your Aunt Heidi is a whiz behind the camera and your Uncle Trent is a notorious photo-bomber.  But I’m sure you knew this already.

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Classroom Confessions Faith Friday Favorites Running

Friday Favorites- Zuni Runs

April 20, 2012 – 20:53

It’s been a few weeks since the last Friday Favorites, so a bunch of these are old.   So in the same way it sounds better to start a story with “the other day” rather than “5 weeks ago”, I’ll just let you assume all these moments happened this past week.  But just so you know, they didn’t.

Favorite “looky-loo” moment

During one of my runs through Little India, a bunch of police cars whizzed past me.  Naturally, I followed them.

I joined a cluster of Indian business owners standing out on the street, and we all tried to solve the mystery of what had happened.  We concluded that someone had tried to rob “Raj Jewels.”  Despite my best attempts to eavesdrop on the cops, I could only conclude that they were pissed at someone, but I could not determine if the suspect had gotten away.

Speaking of attempted robberies, I should also mention that a family friend owns a jewelry store and he was robbed a few weeks ago.  This story made the NEWS because our friend stopped the robbery by shooting the guy in the shoulder and face.  The guy fled with the 4 other robbers, but they all were caught when they crashed into a parked car- probably because the guy driving was the one who had just been SHOT IN THE FACE.  Eeee-diots!

Least favorite “looky- loo” moment

Note: I’ve waited to tell this story because it was too painful to recall when it first happened.  At first, I only told only my friend Susan and that was only because she had told me about her own experience that was WAY worse than mine.  I love you, Susan! read more »

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Friends

g’OLD’en friendships part 2

April 13, 2012 – 06:49

I started writing about “golden friendships” last week when I wrote about my long-time friend, Megan.  She’s old friend and she’s a golden friend.  Continuing on with this idea of old friendships that are “golden” friendships, I’ve put together a list of indicators that your friend might just be a g’OLD’en friend.  If you can think of any more, please feel free to share them in the comments.

20 signs of a golden friendship

1) They know your birthday without checking facebook.

2) They’ve known you through multiple different hairstyles.

3) They know your weaknesses and don’t judge you for them.

4) They know your strengths and don’t envy you because of them.

5) They know how you take your coffee and what you put on your burgers.

6) They know all about your siblings, scars, ex’s, moles, parents, warts, celebrity crushes, fears, and childhood pets.

7) They have passed gas in front of you. read more »

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Faith Friday Favorites

My Routine on the Balance Beam

April 7, 2012 – 01:00

I am a sucker for inspirational clips involving sports.  They make me cry even more than those commercials about animals at the pound.  So when we watched a clip in church last Sunday, I was a mess.

The sermon was about how Jesus humbled himself and then was exalted.  He came in on a donkey; he washed feet; he hung on a cross.  He came to Jerusalem humbly and NO ONE expected the Messiah to come this way.  Our pastor talked about how we too are supposed to imitate Jesus and take the low positions, never exalting ourselves.

To illustrate this idea of the humble being exalted, we watched THIS CLIP about Jason, an autistic boy who was the manager of his high school basketball team.  I had seen the clip before; most likely you have too, but it still filled me with emotion and tears spilled out all over the congregation.  When the humble are lifted up, something just feels right. read more »

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Friends

g’OLD’en friends part 1

April 3, 2012 – 14:00

I was in Girl Scouts for as long as it was cool.  I have only hazy memories of those days, cloudy recollections of folding flags and selling cookies and mocking one poor troop member who was a vegetarian.  Really though, what 10 year old won’t eat chicken?  I vaguely remember wearing an awful green outfit to school, doing a three-fingered pledge, and peeing my pants at a dude ranch, but I don’t remember much else.  However, I do remember one random song we used to sing all the time.  Here’s how it goes:

Make new friends, but keep the old.

One is silver and the other’s gold.

A circle is round; it has no end.

That’s how long I want to be your friend.

Indeed old friends are rare, golden treasures.  My long-lasting friendships are some of the greatest gifts I’ve been given.  Those old friends are golden because as gold is refined through the fire, so too an old friendship is refined through trials and time.  Old friendships don’t always last, so when they do, I think they should be celebrated.  Last week I got to see a whole slew of my g’OLD’en friends in Colorado, so today and tomorrow, I’m going to celebrate them. read more »

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