Charlene and God

Original draft was written one year ago (June 2013).  32 drafts, I guess that means I'm a writer.  Finally editing and posting them.  Here's a sweet one ~ 


Bedtime will wait.  I need to write.  :)

This is Aunt Charlene.  =) 

She passed away on Sunday, and she was reunited in heaven with her mom and dad, her husband, her sister and her daughter.

That's a lot of people very dear to her.  

What a strong woman.   

Truly, you have to be strong to make it through losing all of your best friends and still be able to live by yourself and be genuinely cheerful all the time.  Charlene was.  And I bet she still is.  :)

My mere six years of teaching young elementary students is nothing compared to her  30+ in Fort Worth ISD.  WHOA.  That's a lot of wisdom... and even more patience.  I bet she was a fabulous teacher.

Her life impacted multitudes .

She was a fellow Horned Frog, and so was her husband, Uncle Bennie.  Her sister, my Nana, was, too.  See... I wasn't the first non-ACUer in the family.  All those Glenn women wore their purple and pearls with cowgirl boots, too.  (well, maybe not cowgirl boots, but growing up in Fort Worth,  I wouldn't doubt it).  

Aunt Charlene always loved my dad, a lot.  And that made her even more precious.  I guess just because it's my dad.  

All the way up until 3 weeks ago, she lived in the same 50's model house in South Fort Worth where her children grew up, and where we spent many Christmas mornings.  The kids always played on Uncle Bennie's homemade zip line in the backyard (yes, it was awesome); I sat with Uncle Bennie at the piano while he played old songs; Charlene "fixed" (that means "made" for all my non-Texan readers) that pink whipped cream "salad" with cherries and pineapples... you know the one?  It's forever called "that pink stuff we always ate at Aunt Charlene's."  It's kind of like "Gran crackers" - the graham cracker sandwiches filled with peanut butter that Gran always made.   

So even though Aunt Charlene is really my GREAT-Aunt Charlene, and is a real "Grammy" to my cousins, Turner and I always considered her sort of like our Grandma, too.  Because my grandparents lived in Georgia, Aunt Charlene gave me and Turner little prizes and presents sometimes.  She was just so sweet. 

According to my family, they had a feeling that the past few weeks would be the end of her life on earth.  It seemed soon, even if she was already 85 years old.  She was a hoppin', chipper 85 for sure!  You'd have hardly guess her to be past 75 if you saw her on the street.  ;)  

Remember how I said that I bet she's STILL cheerful all the time?

The night before Aunt Charlene died,

I dreamed that she did die.  

My family and hers stood outside her room, but we were also at a train/bus station (you know how dreams are).  We knew she had already died, but then she walked out of her room all dressed up and carrying her suitcase, and she said, "Well, I'm ready to go now!"  She gave us quick hugs and we watched her hurry off to catch a train.  She looked like she had come straight out of the 40's - cute little hat, perfectly curled hair, khaki peacoat, hose and high heels, and her suitcase.  Yes, she was ready.

I woke up and thought, "I think this will be her last day."  And it was.  She died about 10 hours after I dreamed about her.  She was probably ready to reunite with all her old best friends that I mentioned earlier.

God gives us grace, y'all.  HE DOES.  How comforting to know that even before we know what's coming, God does.  And He's prepared for it.  Then He prepares us for it.

I needed to read that last segment again, today.  
And I probably should tomorrow, too.  

My First Stay in a Hostel

Well, I finally stayed in a hostel.

Whatever you're imagining about my first experience in a hostel... it's probably accurate.

I was coordinating a kids camp in Arbroath, Scotland back in April, a quaint little town along the coast of the North Sea, about an hour by train from Edinburgh, where I first stayed in a hostel.

I arrived with my two awesome volunteer helpers a few days early,

 A) to recover from jet lag before I would be 

managing other peoples' children for a week, 

and

 B) to use as a precaution in case my luggage/camp-in-a-suitcase 

got lost on the way to Scotland 

(which did indeed happen on the way home from Scotland, 

thank goodness it wasn't before).  

We booked a one-night stay in a hostel before we needed to travel up to Arbroath, because that's what you do in Europe.  You stay in a hostel.

right?

You know, I do have a rugged, walk through the dirt and maybe *maybe* don't wear makeup on a campout side to me...

HowEVER, I typically gravitate toward the hostels  hotels that come with plush pillows, bathrobes, and extra bolts on the doors.

Sidenote (on the side of the page, hee) - 

our second hostel stay after camp was uh-maze-iiing (vibrato)

and I could've lived there if for some reason I needed to stay in Edinburgh forever.  

Here are a few photos of our second hostel.

Isn't it dreamy??? We even had our own kitchen!

Let's talk about My First Stay in a Hostel, though, of which I don't have a photo and wish I did.

In Edinburgh, Scotland, most of the buildings are very old and beautiful, lots of stone and rock and grays.  The entrances to shops and restaurants vary because it seems to be the part that can vary, since everything is pretty much stone and gray and old.  Some doors are charming and cobalt, some are tiny and red; some are modern, and some look like you are about to walk into a perfectly Scottish pub, which you probably are about to do.  But when we walked up to our first hostel,

the doorframe was covered in graffiti.  

Okay, 

that's okay.  

It's cool, it's a cool hostel for adventurous backpackers. 

    

...Was I on an adventurous backpacking vacation?  Umno.  I was bringing camp wrapped up in a Vera-Bradley bag to KIDS!  =D  

We walked in and proceeded to carry camp-in-a-suitcase up 4 flights *4 flights* of a spiral staircase.
seriously, though.
The walls were covered in "artwork"...  graffitied caricatures of aliens dressed in 90's garb smoking weed.  Hm, charming.  

Rooms are for four, we were only three.  Chances of a random man staying in the extra bed?  100%.  No, he was not the future husband we were all hoping for.

Needless to say, I didn't shower in the freshman-dorm style community bathroom that night, and I slept with my Vera Bradley bag around my arms.  The guy that stayed with us (slept in the bunk below me) ended up being a nice, normal definitely-a-talker college student on holiday break.  He left before any of us got out of bed the next morning, and we all agreed that we think he was rattling plastic bags before he left just to see if it would wake us up.  it did.

Once we were all up and at 'em, we had three remaining hours in Edinburgh before we needed to catch the train to Arbroath.  We chose this hostel because of its prime location, and because they allow travelers to leave their bags in the check-in room.

The check-in area had about 18 other cool adventurous backpacks all lined up in this tiny room, and then I wheeled in my GIANT red camp-in-a-suitcase with its paisley, floral bright pink Vera Bradley companion atop it.  It reminded me of Cameron Diaz's character in The Holiday, when she arrives in Surrey, England wearing stilettos and lugging her huge suitcase and fancy carry-on bag through ice and snow until she reaches the tiny, cozy cottage.  It just looked a little out-of-place.  I knocked over three separate items off the shelf and desk just trying to walk into the room.  The Scots laughed.

Oh well, we laughed, too and carried on with our day.

And that my friends, was my not-so-eventful, dramatized, typical-kt First Stay in a Hostel story.  

Trending: #coffeeshop pt. 2

No, I never even posted pt. 1.  But I will... probably.  someday.  I think.

TRENDING:  COFFEE SHOP

excuse me, i meant 

#COFFEESHOP

Dear coffeeshop, 

How do I love thee?  

Let me count the ways: [obscurely]

... in 7 pairs of skinny jeans. 

... in 9 plastic-rimmed spectacles.  

... in 4 legit beards and 1 great 'stache.

... 8 laptops.  

... 1 table talking too loudly. 

... 1 interview meeting. 

... 1 date.

... 1 bowtie.  

... dreads.  

... 547986 tattoos (basically a lot).  

I usually blog about Thailand experiences, my own life's changes and growth, Jesus, ya know, interesting stuff.  

But today, i am totally channeling my inner hipster, sporting my denim skinnies (cuffs rolled up), headband, plastic-rimmed glasses, big earrings and of course, wedge high heels.  

Ope!  in walked 2 new pairs of skinnies.  Make that 11 pairs of skinny jeans.  

well anyway, here is why i'm blogging about this --- 

because i felt like it.  

I currently work three FABULOUS jobs that I TOTALLY love (no, my descriptions are not amplified), but this means that I am i n s a n e l y busy this month.  My email stopped working today, but perhaps this is a blessing in disguise.  I'm being trained in keeping a zero inbox.  YAY.  Didn't even know that was possible, and < --- that's hard to admit.  But, if I'm going to keep up with two worlds that are oceans apart, it's important that I organize my online life.  

email dies = kt rests 

So, I'm at this #coffeeshop and completely enjoying people-watching.  The baristas are the best; I love seeing people enjoying their jobs.  This shop has THE best house blend in my city.  bold statement?  bold coffee.  honest girl.

Isn't that a beautiful, dark-roast house-brew?
Also, Bossypants is hilarious.  

Life back at home is full, refreshing, moving forward, and I am again, thankful. 
Can you see my thankfulness?  
Can you hear it?  
I hope you can feel it, most of all.  
Because my soul is shouting it in my hugs, in my hard work, in the conversations I have with you, and I bet, and I hope, that the baristas at this coffeeshop can feel it, too, and I want them to be curious about it.  

What is it about a coffeeshop that unlocks a writer's brain?  or an artist's inspiration?  or a photographer's eye?  


Whatever it is, I am thankful for it.  I get it, too.

And I'm thankful for peace.  For simplicity, for eclecticism.  For singleness readitagain< ---.  For coffee and hipsters!  

I am content in the USofA.  I am exactly where I need to be, right now.  I seriously worried about coming back to Texas.  No need to worry, I know this...  I've learned a sad, awkward and blubbery lesson in trust.  ;)  Plus, you know I still love Cowtown.

To quote Paul in his letter to Philippi,

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  [YEP]  I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.  

-Philippians 4:11-12 

welp, it's true, but it's a growing place, as well.  It comes with time and with something bigger than myself to rely upon.  I can adapt, I can accept, I can be content, this Perceiver can make decisions, [ONLY] through Him who gives me strength.  

I am strong in Him, WATCH OUT.  haha.  

Do I have this contentment thing down pat?  umno.  Thanks for appreciating the records of my growth data, though, I hope it makes you look up and around with new perspectives.     

Dear #coffeeshop, 

you're so inspirational,  

keep up the good brew. 

sincerely, 

plastic-rimmed spectacles #5 
aka: the hipster with the headband
aka: skinnies with the cuffs rolled up 

Lamp-Lit Footsteps

It's already August 8th.  I left Thailand 30 days ago, and I'm aching to write tonight.

Let's take a look back at my last week in SE Asia:

I took an amazing trip into Laos.  Uh-maze-iiiinnngg.
Aside from Northern Thailand and Switzerland, Laos (correctly pronounced "Lao") is probably THE most beautiful place I've ever been on earth.  I traveled with a friend through uncharted territory that literally looked untouched and probably was.   

My car died on the Super Highway. 'nuff said.      

THERE WAS A BAT IN MY BEDROOM.  

I REPEAT.  THERE WAS A BAT IN MY BEDROOM. 

I suuuure did spend rich, fun and funnY hours with my dear community.

When I realized I only had a few precious days left to savor the deliciousness of tropical fruit, I ate un-ripened mango for breakfast every day and ripened mango for dessert every night, resulting in some serious detoxification. 

I met/killed/ran from countless roaches in my living room, AND, [Nellie! I forgot to tell you this!] one upstairs in my shoe.  Nellie and I always felt a little protected from the roaches because they couldn't get upstairs.  

wrong.   

And I cried, [OKAY awkwardly sobbed] all the way from the Chiang Rai security gate where my friends hugged me goodbye, until I connected with my darling friend, Oh, in central Bangkok.  

I cried

All the way there.

ALL.  thewaythere.

My flight departing from Chiang Rai was delayed by about 30 minutes, so I tried shopping to hide my puffy wet face from Thais who I'm sure I was making incredibly uncomfortable.  Haha.  The Thai culture values controlling their emotions and "keeping face," so they'll typically do what they can to hide their 'unpleasant' feelings; which, I believe, is partially the reason Thailand is known as "The Land of 1000 Smiles."  I really did try, but I just couldn't stop crying, as I'm sure everyone around me also really did try not to stare.  Their apparent discomfort at the sight of me did make me giggle a little bit, though.  

The week before I left, Eric Ebeling reminded me of a familiar old song that goes like this: 

"Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet

And a light unto my path." 

(it's also scriptural, Psalm 119:105)

The song does not go like this: 

"Thy Word is a very bright overhead light which brightens the entire space I'm in so that I can see everything

And I know exactly what all my surroundings are because I can see all of them,  and I already know what it will be like when I get there because this path is clearly lit from all angles and directions." 

(not scriptural, katie'swishes 199:5) 

-->T R U S T. 

Sometimes, we [I] spend hours, days and months trying to decide or figure out what to do.  We [I] really do want to be where the Lord is, where He can best use [me] or where [we] will be happiest and the most peaceful.  And you know what? 

God's going to go beyond us anyway.  Here's what He kept telling me to do:  Count your life as nothing.  

That doesn't mean to diminish my self-esteem and self-worth to zero, and it doesn't mean that I have nothing in this world to offer.  Instead, it means that

it's not about me.  

It's not about ME.  

The decisions I make are not because I think I'm really great and can do this - especially because I KNOW that each change I make comes with a learning curve that's full of challenges, one right after the other.  Instead, "it is no longer I who live... I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me."  Galatians 2:20

And so, my decision to return to Texas instead of spending another year in Thailand was just not about what sounded cool or what seemed more adventurous, and it didn't make sense to me.

But i can be used here!  i am so needed!  

Step into what I have for you, kt.  

I may have boarded my flight out of Chiang Rai in tears and heartache, but instead of being spoon-fed my next steps, I had to trust the lamp-lit way in front of me.

When I returned home, someone told me something that connected all of it --- all of my doubts, my confusion, my own logic, my fear vs. hope, my fleshly thinking ---

Surely goodness and mercy will follow Katie all the days of her life, 

And she will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  

Psalm 23

It was perfect.  It was just what I needed.  And it was true.

Why do we [I] worry?  Why do we spend SO MUCH energy on fear of what's around the corner?  

SO ON THAT NOTE, 

Here's an update on the Good Lord's faithfulness.  Here is what I'm doing now: 

I am so thankful that... 

1. My roommate is awweeesoooommmee (< hear it with vibrato) and we live in a "dollhouse" with OLD original hardwood floors and character around every corner.  

2.. I'm learning some much needed and desired admin. skills.  

3. I am developing some special education skills, and I will be learning from experts who I already respect and appreciate.  (I LOVE my new school, ask me about it)

4. I am growing in my knowledge of children's ministry, 

5. and I still sort of have a foot in the door of overseas work through a communications role that I'm in.    

a. Am I still teaching?  Yes. 
b. Am I still a missionary?  Yes.  
c. Am I happy?  Wow, YES.  

...this is a good, daily business for me, remember, practicing gratitude.  

I am BEYOND thankful for my experiences in Thailand and the people I met, and I am truly truly (x2 on purpose) amazed that what I'm doing now is actually comparable to the dream-school I came from in Chiang Rai.  

And now instead of rats and bats, I live with 2 cats.  :o)   




Thank you for following the Thailand Journey with me.  I will continue to blog, and I'll continue to post about Thailand.  My blog name will change, but not yet.  

Stay tuned.  

Stay thankful.  

Photo from my first day in Thailand

Visit www.crics.asia if you haven't already.  

The Travel Bug Calling

You know, some people say I've caught "the travel bug."  And that maybe, I caught it when I first trekked around Europe with my French Horn 9 years ago (surprised emoticon face inserted here for you... if only I could find the Blogger emoticons).  This "travel bug" was then fueled by a few mission trips I went on, then by student-teaching abroad; then some people thought it was over once I finished living in Africa.  Except that then I moved to Thailand.

And now....

(stay tuned!)

But what if "the travel bug" is just an easier way of describing a calling in life.  A purpose beyond what I could have ever thought up, or actually beyond what I wanted.  It's like this - when I stretch in my bedroom after I wake up, I stretch a little, then I stop when my muscles begin to feel the burn.  It takes someone pushing me to stretch beyond comfort-level (this is why yoga classes work for me), and when I'm challenged to stretch just a little deeper, to breathe into the tight places - it's after that that I can see the reasons why a deeper stretch is necessary - after half an hour, my body goes beyond what it could've in the beginning.  If I only ever stretched just up until it starts to hurt, then eventually, the purpose of stretching at all would be nullified because I'd never be getting anywhere.  Does this make sense?    

So when people see what I do and read about these adventures, what if they could truly read inside me and find that I have not "caught" any thing, but instead I have only opened my hands; I have allowed myself to stretch further, deeper.  I was happy in my charming Fort Worth neighborhood, in my cute little apartment, with my funny girlfriends and in my loving church, living so nearby my family.  The Lord saw something more fitting for me, though - He beckoned me to stretch a little deeper.  Then when I got there, He coached me and said, "Breathe into those tight places.  They need oxygen."  

So, if you're not gagging at my stretching analogy yet, please continue reading.  I have been loosened up.  My heart has been loosened up.  Dear kt, Christ is in you.  Christ is in you, a new creation, the hope of glory.  When you're so critical of yourself, don't you see that you are condemning the one that I created?  There's a story in the Bible (John 8) about a woman who was caught in the act of adultery.  whoa.  embarrassing.  Men brought her to Jesus to shame her and accuse her of sin, but Jesus just said, "And who among you has no sin?"  SNAP.  So they left.  When they did, the woman was all alone with Jesus - she was on the ground and He was standing up, asking her, "Who is it now that condemns you?"  (are you picturing her crying out her woes into her hands that are cupped around her face?)  She answered, "No one."  Because there was no one left there to condemn and shame her.  Jesus says to her, "And neither do I. Go now and leave your life of sin."  

No, I didn't leave Texas to leave a life of sin.  Follow the context, here!  But I did bring something with me when I came to Thailand, and I didn't even know it ---> self-condemnation.  A criticism that has infiltrated e v e r y thing I do.  Not in the most negative way possible, but in little ways; little ways that affect daily decisions, the words I use, the things I think, my assertiveness or passivity.  

Well, these days in Thailand I have been gently pushed to breathe into those tight places, to allow oxygen to reach them, to allow life to flow into them.  My innermost places have been stretched and strengthened.  Here's the glorious part - I am not condemned.  There IS no condemnation for those who are in Christ.  There is none!  So when I'm hard on myself or when I recognize a place that needs growth (therrrre it is, just recognizing places that need growth), I can say "Thank you, Lord.  Thank you, God."  I've gone deeper, been stretched farther, strengthened from the inside out, and thankfully, because this is a calling and not just a bug to get out of my system, I am not done... not with the growth nor with the adventure.  

... Even if I am back in Fort Worth, Texas.  ;)  (aren't you glad you stayed tuned?)  Trying to make time for Blogger amidst the packing and the goodbyes.  If you're new to my blog, check out www.crics.asia to read about the amazing school I've been a part of this year.  

My Assessment of a Professional Thai Futbol Game

[Another late April post, finished it tonight]

Today I attended my first ever professional soccer game.

I live about 5-10 minutes from the Chiang Rai United Futbol Stadium, so I determined at the beginning of this year to go see a game.

I anticipated this experience and imagined myself in a sea of orange, pretending to know what each Thai cheer or whistle meant, just like Elizabeth Gilbert in her Italian soccer game chapter of Eat, Pray, Love.  That's the only soccer game 'schema' I had to compare my future experience to.

That, and the time I "tried" playing on a soccer team in 2nd grade.  It was exactly as you'd imagine a 2nd grade girls' soccer team would be.
My team scored 1 point *one point* the entire season, and it rained at just about every game (of course it did, it's because 7 and 8 year old ex-ballerinas had to chase a ball up and down a field of mud for an hour).  Etched into my memory is Jeannie Loyd washing the mud off my legs with her spray bottle on a gloomy day.  Those are my soccer memories.

BUT ANYWAY, my soccer experience in Thailand was much, much better.

It was actually just like I imagined, and I loved every bit of it.

Fans tailgating ~

Fried food and beer ~
(don't worry, all I had was water and some nori sushi chips.  2 of them....)

A sea of orange ~

Everybody cheering ~

I didn't know much about soccer before tonight.  Aside from the failed 2nd grade trial of my athleticism, my only experiences with soccer include the following:

1. My friend, Jessica, played soccer when we were in high school.  
2. Turner played soccer as a kid, and I had a crush on one of his teammates. 
3. orange slices.  

I was so excited just to be at the Chiang Rai United game, though.  Thais get really into the games, they're all very "united" about the plays, so it's quite fun.  Even when the team made errors on the field (okay, I grew up with baseball, can there be "errors on the field" in soccer?), everyone still seemed pumped to be there.  So, I'm sitting there in the 904983 degree Thailand heat, and all I could think about was David Beckham.

8-)

:-*  

;;;)

David Beckham gets my large-font googly eyes.   I guess I could've included him on my list of things that I know/experiences about soccer.  Well, then all I could think about was David Beckham driving that boat on the Thames during the London Olympics Opening Ceremony.  And well, the rest of the game was history since that's all I could think about.

But in case you want the deets about the REST of the game, ;) I'll let you know what happened.

First,
I watched and watched and watched waiting to see how a professional soccer game begins (do they flip a coin?  is it determined beforehand?  home-field advantage?  cast lots or what?).  I looked down at my cup of water to take a sip from the straw for one second and that's when the game started.  We got the ball, though, so that's good.

Next,
It only took only two whistles from the start of the game for a guy from the opposing team to be rolling around on the ground writhing in pain.  I told Edie, who was sitting next to me, "Oh no, that guy is in pain, no one's even paying attention to him, this is so bad!"  LOL, now I can laugh at it because after that, every other play had a guy rolling around on the ground "writhing" in fake pain.  They fake it a lot to buy time, apparently.  I bet David Beckham doesn't do that....

8-)
:-*
8-)'''''

^that last one has drool.  =)  


Well anyway, that's about it.  I hope the brevity of my synopsis of a professional futbol game didn't offend any die hard soccer fans/the rest of the world.  The game really was tons of fun and made for a great memory and an exciting cultural experience (did I mention tickets only cost $3?).    

Hey, Blogger ;)  Heard you write blogs.  So cool.  :]

Class Dismissed, Katie

I didn't close my eyes to keep my tears from falling, I wanted to watch my students (Kinder - 3rd since I also teach Music).  We were all singing...

Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel? 

Will I dance for you, Jesus?  Or in awe of You, be still? 

Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?

Will I sing "Hallelujah!"  ... Will I be able to speak at all? 


I stood behind one of my students who is already a leader as we sang at chapel a few Tuesdays ago.  I thought about how I WILL get to see her in heaven someday, because heaven is real, and she knows, believes and loves Jesus.  How incredible and right it is that even 20 years apart in age and from completely different cultures, this little girl and I share an understanding that God is who He says He is, and that He does what He says He will do.   

So I found myself imagining what it may be like to stand with her in view of the Lord someday, wondering if her peers would all be there, wondering who she will bring with her to see the face of Jesus.  

I also wonder how many books these children will publish in their lifetime.
Listening to them proudly read me their stories were some of the most priceless experiences I've had in teaching.  

School is finished and five consecutive years of teaching have come to a close (I think).  I'll explain my future plans later.  For now, just let me be a little melancholy.  In the next few blogs I'll post, taste the little bits of where the majority of my time has been spent this year ~ you'll understand why I have been so affected by the CRICS family, whom I love deeply.