Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Our Story: What Is Going On?

To start at the beginning of the story, see Our Story: IntroductionsSecond installment, see Our Story: Rescued.  Third installment, see Our Story: A Long Wait. Fourth installment, see Our Story: First Sight. Fifth installment, see Our Story: Just a Hint.


What Is Going On?
Anticipation, Suggestion, Uncertainty


“I do know that waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one’s thoughts.”
― Elisabeth Elliot,
Passion and Purity: Learning to Bring Your Love Life Under Christ's Control

  
 Following the white chocolate episode, I was on pins and needles. 

Was it nothing? 
Or was it something? 

A few quiet days passed.

After church the following Saturday, Ben's dad Ed saw me in the bookstore. 

"Do you know anything about moving plans?" he asked.

"Umm, no, I don't believe so," I said, not sure what he was talking about. But then again, there had been a lot of moving plans lately.

"Oh, I didn't know if Ben told you about the moving party at Nathan and Laura's house tomorrow. I don't know who all will be there, but you could come for lunch at 2pm," he said.

"Oh, okay, sounds good," I said. A moving party, sounded safe enough.

So, on Sunday after tear-down, I drove to Nathan and Laura's house for lunch around 2pm. Ed was there, and little one-year-old Gwyn. And Nathan and Laura. That's all.

Trying to appear nonchalant, I played with Gwyn and read her a book. Mid-way through the book, there was a commotion in the stairwell, and up came Ben. (He had no idea I would be there.)

It was a quiet lunch of taco casserole and family reminiscing. No one seemed to think it odd that I was sitting there for the conversation, and no one seemed in a great hurry to do whatever moving needed to be done. 

Shortly before I had to leave to set up the Shepherd Leader's Meeting, they got to work, moving a queen bed from one room to another. I carried a pillow.

____________________________________

 The following weekend, my parents came to town. On Friday, my mom and Karin Livingston and I went out for lunch together to one of my favorite coffee shops. 

As we chatted and ate, Karin said to my mom casually, "Don't worry, any guys who are interested in Amy have to talk to David."


"Actually," she continued, "there was a young man who talked to David this week." (News to me.)

She went on, "The Chocolate Man." (Whoops. Hadn't mentioned the white chocolate incident to my parents yet.)

"He's a good guy, very good with his little niece, a servant. He needs a full-time job, and a little haircut." 


That night over supper at Applebees, I filled my parents in on the few odd occurrences of the past week or so. 

____________________________________

We dropped my mom off at the airport, and Saturday night, my dad met Ben at church. The Messengers were handing out flyers for their upcoming dramatic production as people entered the sanctuary, dressed in their white sweatshirts and sweatpants.

After church, Dad and I had supper at Davanni's.

"I'm impressed," he said. "You can tell a lot from a person's eyes."

____________________________________

There was a One Another gathering that Sunday evening (One Another was the somewhat short-lived singles ministry at church). I chatted with one of my small group ladies, Beth, and she invited me to play volleyball with some people (Ben included, incidentally) on Monday and Wednesday mornings at Hope Academy.

Since I played volleyball in high school, I showed up the next morning a little after 7, had fun, and tried to make it most Mondays and Wednesdays after that. 

____________________________________

The Messengers group was in the midst of productions. 

They traveled to Canada for a long weekend, and I found that the days dragged by and I agonized unreasonably over Ben's absence. Very unreasonably, considering that the status of our relationship was ... nothing. 

We still didn't really talk at length, saw each other only in passing here and there, and had never had any conversation whatsoever about any personal relationship.

____________________________________

Monday, April 2 (the day after Ben's birthday) I was at work. My phone rang, and it was Ben, calling with a few work-related questions.

After talking a couple minutes, he closed, "Hey, want to come to dinner tomorrow night at the O'Neals with my mom, Laura, and Gwyn?"

"Oh, um, let me check about changing a meeting with a friend, but I think I can come. Can I bring something?" I said.

"Why don't you bring brownies, and I'll bring ice cream," he said. And he gave me directions to the O'Neals.

(Aha, I thought. Not a date.)

____________________________________

 Tuesday I was jittery for a few different reasons. It was First Tuesday Fast, so I was running on empty by the end of the day. 

After work I had a really difficult, really intense meeting with a friend to confront some lifestyle choices she was making. It was a gut-wrenching discussion. By the time it ended and I gripped the steering wheel to drive to the O'Neals, nerves were getting to me. 

My feet and legs were shaking so badly that I could barely press the gas pedal.

____________________________________

The O'Neals are a delightful family and had adopted Ben to be their own "big brother." Besides being in Messengers together, he also came over for dinner with their family very regularly. Katie, Erin, Keith, and Amy were the children at home, and they were definitely close with Ben.

Ben's mom and her dog Bubba were visiting (Meri-Kay was between assignments to Nepal and Kenya). Laura and Gwyn completed the party. Dinner was a casual affair, and afterward we chatted and finally pulled out a game to play.

"Like It Or Lump It" it was called, and the devious spirits of those around the table were in full swing by the time Ben took his turn.

Everyone handed him a card from their hand (with impish grins), which he then had to organize in order of personal preference, with points going to the person who "read" him best and had the card selected as personal favorite.

Ben surveyed his cards, pondered, muttered under his breath, deliberated far longer than was comfortable, and carried on a running commentary about his options. I could feel my cheeks burning.

Finally, he slid them into his rank of preference:

Perfume.
Corvettes.
Hammering Nails.
Love Songs.
Volleyball.
Walking in the Rain.
Falling in Love.

My only defense was to feign total ignorance and strike up a conversation with whomever was sitting on my left.



After more games and much more conversation, the party finally disbanded. It was 11:15pm when Ben walked outside with me. I dusted the snow off my car while he stood in the middle of the street.

"It's slick; drive carefully," he warned.

Just as I was about to climb into my car, he said, "It was a lovely evening," he spoke very deliberately, "And I'm really enjoying getting to know you."

I drove away, all the crazy moments of the day playing loudly in my mind.

Well, I mused, at least I know what's going on. We're "getting to know" each other.

 






Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Visit with Grandma K

Last week we had the very special treat of a visit from Grandma K.

Victor and Josiah were overjoyed at so much fun with Grandma and all the cousins too!


A real African cheetah. Which Josiah loves to snuggle.

All-family birthday party at the trampoline park!












Just prior to a great fall, due to a "really big snuggle"





Thanks for coming to visit us, Grandma K! We are thinking of you, we love you, and we look forward to the next time we'll see you!

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Feeling Rich

Last night I was sitting in the Lazyboy in Victor's room with my three favorite people.

It was a sweet, peaceful moment at the end of a full day. Reading Matthew 6, watching Victor do a puzzle with Daddy, and Josiah grooving to the bulldozer music.

Thinking, What a very rich lady I am.




...the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name.

Blessed to be a momma in this family.
Blessed to have a fabulous momma who continues to be an example for me.
Blessed to have a husband whose momma taught him about Jesus.
Blessed to have a heavenly Father who is the source of all goodness in all families and all mommas.

Happy Mother's Day!

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Our Story: Just a Hint

For the first installment of this long story, see Our Story: Introductions.  Second installment, see Our Story: Rescued.  Third installment, see Our Story: A Long Wait. Fourth installment, see Our Story: First Sight.


Our Story: Just a Hint


On September 10, 2006 (the day before I turned 25), Bethlehem opened a South Campus. I worked for David Livingston, who would be pastoring at the new campus, and he asked me to make the transition with him.

South Campus. Mainly families. Not a lot of single guys (just to be candid). [This was my actual train of thought.]

But, it seemed like a great chance to be a part of something big that God was doing, and I would pretty much go anywhere David Livingston asked (since he's as much a "dad" as a boss), so I said yes.

Those were some crazy days, early on. We hauled two trailers' worth of paraphernalia to Burnsville South High School every Sunday, set up tables, chairs, Info Booth, coffee, and all the worship equipment, and then packed it up again at the end of the morning. I helped set up, sat at the Info Booth, and helped pack up. I remember sprawling on the floor of the 501 Building (our office) with my co-worker Meg, exhausted at the end of some of those Sundays.  

Incidentally, Ben Katterson showed up as a volunteer set-up / tear-down guy, coming early and staying late with the paid fellows. Once our nurseries were up and running both hours, he served in Nursery Blue (and did "Stanley" for the Bible story). Every single week.

____________________________________

One day in the office, Meg very casually mentioned, "You know who you should date?" (A funny question, actually, since I never dated anybody.)

"Um, no. Who?" I asked.

"Ben Katterson," she said.

I thought for a minute. "I think he's got better things to do than date girls."

End of conversation.

____________________________________

January 2007. I was having lunch at the Livingstons' on Sunday afternoon. 

Karin says, "Amy, does Ben Katterson like you?"

Me, flustered. "What? I don't know. He's never said so. Why are you asking that? 

Karin, "Well, he sure hangs out at the Info Booth a lot."

Me, "Everybody hangs out at the Info Booth."

End of conversation. 

However, this time I started paying attention, and oddly enough, Ben Katterson did appear to hang out at the Info Booth a fair bit. 

____________________________________

It started when a friend of mine needed some bookshelves moved and called me to see if I knew of any guys who could help. As it ended up, Ben could help, and another friend. Ben talked with a Russian accent the entire day.

The next week another friend called, because she was moving and wondered if I knew of any guys who could help

Again, Ben was willing. And he suggested that we could use his landlord's (i.e. Pastor Chuck) Suburban and trailer to help with the move.

It was a gray, soggy day, but we had enough help to get my friend Ann moved in pretty quickly. Nevertheless, Ben stayed until everything was settled, and he hooked up her computer. Somewhere in the process, we had an odd little conversation in the elevator, in which I mentioned a fondness for white chocolate. 

____________________________________

It was a couple weeks later, on a snowy day in March. Ben had to drop something off at my apartment. He stood on the front porch, shuffled his feet a little, and shoved a small parcel at me. Then he bounded off, curly blond hair bouncing.

I went inside and slowly closed the door. It was wrapped in white butcher paper, tied with twine, and marked with a black Sharpie in tidy writing: "I saw this at the store ... and thought of you. Ben K"

Inside was a big, saran-wrapped slab of white chocolate.

For some people, gifts from boys ... no biggie. But it felt like something seismic to me. 

And a very curious season began. Praying, waiting, wondering.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

13 Months Old


Dear Josiah,

 You crazy goose. How can you be 13 months old? You are our favorite 1-year-old.

You are taking your time starting to walk (which is okey-dokey with me). You stand without holding on to anything for long stretches of time, but crawling still seems like the preferred mode of travel. I keep wanting to catch you on video, because sometimes you really get an extra waggle in your head and in your hips, and it's hilarious. But, of course, you stop doing it when I pull out my camera and get all distracted trying to eat the camera case.

You are a very chatty fellow. You will repeat pretty much anything.



Things you especially say:

I love you.
Amen.
Banana.
Daddy.
Cracker.

You give a fierce banshee yell when you run out of food on your tray. We are trying to work on a little more gracious expression, but you are quick to say please also.

You are eating like crazy.

Things you like:

Rice and beans.
Bananas.
Apple.
Tortillas.
Bread.
Kix.
Cheerios.
Pancakes.
Granola bars.
Graham crackers.
Cheese.
Soda crackers.
Goldfish crackers.

Things you smush with a pudgy little finger, throw over the edge of your tray, and/or spit out:

Carrots.
Milk.
Any food after you've decided you've had enough.

You love pulling your blanket out of your crib and burying your face in it and snuggling into your teddy bear while I rub your back.

You love going on walks (and it's a pretty sure thing for coaxing you out of a grumpy mood).

You love playing peekaboo (you cover your head with a blanket and then pull it down with a big grin).



You also love playing with your big brother. Today you had a fun game of catch (of a sort) going. I just love seeing you and him playing together happily!






You do not love wearing shoes. I don't know what you are going to wear this summer, since your little moccasins look funny with shorts, and you take off your Crocs as soon as I put them on you. You scream when I try to put on the sandals we just bought for you.

You still eat sticks and rocks.

When we listen to music, you routinely "get your groove on." It's sweet.

Sometimes, while you relax, falling asleep, you croon to yourself, singing some little song. It's great.

You have a great, terrific, wonderful smile, and we love it.

We love you! And we pray that you continue to grow big and strong in body, sharp and wise in mind, and tender and submitted to Jesus in heart.

Snuggles and kisses,
Mom


Monday, May 4, 2015

Funny Guy

Victor: Look at those big ice cream cones! (Bowl of pinecone potpourri)

Me: Grandad and Lori are running a big race tomorrow, like when Daddy takes you and Josiah out in the jogging stroller.
Victor: What are they chasing?

Me, carrying Victor into church
Victor: Mom, you're getting small.

Driving past the Minneapolis Ikea
Victor: There's our Zaccheus!

Victor, explaining how Dad took him to the library book drop (after Josiah ripped a page out of one of our library books): You drive around to the back, and then there's a place where you can put your books one by one, and it chops up all the broken books into pieces.