Encouragement

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Thank you to so many for being pray-ers, cheerleaders, encouragers, and counselors along this journey. We are so thankful!

Graduation!

Last night was remarkable.

Commencement from Bethlehem College & Seminary. The end of one journey and the beginning of another.

Oh, how much life has happened since Ben started seminary 4 years ago. How many papers written, diapers changed, books read, miles driven, milestones marked, memories made. Late nights, early mornings, long hours, weary eyes, full hearts.

I am so proud of you, love.

You have pressed on along a long journey. You've leaned on grace, fought for faith, romped with our boys even when papers called. You have had an open ear to my requests and concerns, a closed eye to many of my faults and sins, a warm hug at the end of many long days.

I am so glad to be at your side. And gladder still that we are both held by the everlasting arms. May He hold us fast. I love you!

Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen. Jude 24-25

Child Dedication

Last Sunday, we were able to be a part of the Child Dedication at church with Elliot.

We love these "parental promises" and words of dedication.

It is our aim, with God's help:

1. To recognize our children as gifts of God and give heartfelt thanks for God's blessing.

2. To dedicate our children to the Lord who gave them to us, surrendering all worldly claims upon their lives in the hope that they will belong wholly to God.

3. With God's fatherly help, to bring up our children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, making every reasonable effort, with patience and love, to build the Word of God, the character of Christ, and the joy of the Lord into their lives.

4. To provide, through God's blessing, for the physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual needs of our children, looking to our own heavenly Father for the wisdom, love and strength to serve them and not use them.

5. Relying on God’s help to make it our regular prayer that, by God's grace, our children will come to trust in Jesus Christ alone for the forgiveness of their sins and for the fulfillment of all his promises to them, even eternal life; and in this faith follow Jesus as Lord and obey his teachings.

WORDS OF DEDICATION

Elliot James Katterson, together with your parents, who love you dearly, and this people who care about the outcome of your faith, I dedicate you to God, surrendering together with them, all worldly claims upon your life, in the hope that you will belong wholly to God forever.

Amen, little son, may it be so!

On Turning 35

Today, 10 years ago, was the first Sunday of the new South Site of Bethlehem. What a day, full of joyful, exhausting, exhilarating hard work!

It was the beginning of a long, hard, sweet era of South Sundays (incidentally also the beginning of manning the South Info Booth, whence along came a man named Ben, causing Karin Livingston to probe a few months later, "Amy, does Ben Katterson like you?" ... but that's another story).

Then, it was the day before I turned 25.

Today, it is the day before I turn 35.

And what do I have to say about that? (Asked no one, but I'll share anyway!)

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.--Ephesians 3:20-21

That's a pretty good summary of how I feel. The road that brought me here has been full of so many gifts, so much kindness. Long days, sleepless nights (didn't know much about those before kids!), loneliness, sweet friendship, painful conflict, encouraging conversations, deep loss, precious gifts ... God's provision has been constantly beyond expectation.

 The LORD God is a sun and shield. The LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.--Psalm 46:10

I really don't have much to say about why I'm at this blessed place in life. I didn't earn it. I didn't build it. Haven't figured it all out. As for being somebody who "walks uprightly," that's all a crazy gift too. God has covered over my sinful, selfish heart with the blood of His perfect Son, and He has given me a new love for His way. And then on top of it, He's given a boatload of other sweet gifts.

Creative, goofy, hard-working, sacrificial, Jesus-loving husband.
Three bubbly, bright, joyful, energetic, wiggly little boys, and a baby with Jesus.
Seminary life, ministry opportunities, the body of Christ.
Kind, long-lasting friendships and new connections.
Extended family that I love being with.
Mind-stretching work (some of which I am paid for) and lots of satisfying responsibilities.

Praise to the Lord, who o’er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e’er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth? 

So today is full of reflections of gratitude. And tomorrow?

Well, tomorrow is held in the hands of the same great Keeper and King, so whatever it holds is yet another gift.

Thank You, Lord.

 Even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you.--Isaiah 46:4

Our Story: What Is Going On?

To start at the beginning of the 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. 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.

 

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.

Our Story: First Sight

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.

Our Story: First Sight
Was That Love?



The summer of 2005 was notable for a few reasons. It was my first summer living in the 'hood in Minneapolis. It was my first summer working full-time (as a real, independent adult). And it was the summer that Ben moved to town.

One of my duties as the now-full-time Adult Ministry assistant was to coordinate the weekly Wednesday Connection meal.  We alternated between the parking lot of our under-construction North Campus (in Mounds View) and the parking lot of our Downtown Campus (in Minneapolis).  Hot dogs, chips, water.  This was not a complicated meal.  But you would hardly believe the trouble I had.

I wrote an essay about my experience that summer. Laugh or cry, you know? (I'll try to post the essay, but I only have a hard copy right now.)

Ed Katterson was my noble hot dog griller. On a Wednesday in June, I was rushing around, per the norm, when a lanky fellow peddled into the Downtown parking lot on a bicycle, his shoulder-length, curly blond hair billowing behind him. My impressions were of a high-octane smile and a bit of a wild appearance. Ed introduced him as his youngest son, newly moved to town to be a part of Bethlehem, Ben.

I said hi and continued on my stressed-out way. [Ben recalls feeling a bit deflated by my welcome. Little did he know what strenuous demands were riding on the shoulders of that distracted hot dog lady...]

The next time our paths crossed was at a game night at Ben and Melissa Piper's house, maybe a few weeks later. I had served as Ben Piper's ministry assistant for about 6 months, so we were friends, and they also invited their neighbors across the street (who happened to be Nathan and Laura Katterson),  another single guy, and ... Nathan's younger brother Ben. The card game we played [sadly, I don't recall what it was] involved going around the circle, each person laying down a card. In the course of play, Ben laid down a card, and I happened to lay down its pair. Ben looked over at me, with his wide grin, and said, "Well, I guess we'll have to get married!"

Cheeky man, I thought. He doesn't even know me.

Aside from crossing paths at morning prayer meetings and church, nothing notable marked our interactions after that. We were acquaintances (not particularly friends) and each heavily involved in different things. Ben was almost immediately drawn into the Messengers drama group (a performing arts group that presented at Bethlehem as well as traveled around the country) and some short-term missions trips with his dad, and I was leading a small group and a neighborhood Bible study and working too much.

It would be a year and a half before I had any indication God would be crossing our paths in a more significant way.

Next installment: Just a Hint

A Decade

Celebrated my 10-year anniversary working at Bethlehem today.

My goodness.

Ten years ago, freshly graduated from college, I was elated to get the message on my answering machine asking if I'd be interested in a part-time job.

Ten years. Seven bosses (give or take). Three campuses. A husband and two boys.

And more gifts of grace than I can count, traced back through this work.

So thankful.

Staff Day Away

Today was our Bethlehem Staff Day Away.

I love the Staff Day Away.  A whole day to hang out with our co-workers away from the office... Panera bagels.  Worship.  Devotional from Philippians 2.  Prayer.  Gift card game.  Salad and sandwich bar for lunch.  Afternoon tournament, complete with fabulous poetry, mini marshmallow towers, Bible Scattergories, a new lawn game, hymn charades, and pie-eating contest.

I was involved in the organization, so I confess to waking up at 4:30am this morning with my brain spinning about the things that could go wrong, be confusing, really annoying, forgotten, or overlooked.  And the Lord was so kind.  The weather was beautiful, the camaraderie sweet, and all went very smoothly, with lots and lots of terrific help.

One more reason I really love this church.

Blog post from Pastor Sam

New Adventure

Well, this week brought a new open door.

Ben received news that he has been offered the job he applied for a couple months ago.  And so, with a deep sense of need for God's help and enabling, he has accepted the position as the Coordinator for Young Adult Discipleship, South.  Or in other words, he'll be working with the senior high students at the South Site.

I was thinking this morning about how much God has done.  When I first met Ben, almost 8 years ago, he was footloose, spontaneous, energetic, fun-loving.  Through these years, I have had a front-row seat to God's wonderful deepening work.  And I have seen such growth, change, maturing, thoughtfulness, and sanctification that I just marvel and praise the Lord.

It's been a road with many twists and turns, hon.  And I'm so thankful to be going with you around the bend again to see what God has in store in this.  And don't we know already, that He will be giving us more of Himself?

I love you.

Sunday Night

It's been a fairly quiet, cold, rainy day here. Victor and I were home from church, partly due to his on-going cough and partly due to my lack of sleep.

I think, in general, he is doing better. His energy is good, his cheerful smiles returning, and his appetite seems to be coming back (albeit, in a more picky form than prior). The cough hangs on. I think it's a little softer now, and he has only had a few really hard coughing fits today, so I'm just praying that it will little by little subside into calm.

Precious moment of the day:

After lunch, I told Victor, "Jesus loves you." 

And he smiled up and poked his chest and said, "Me, me, me!" ... just like in "Jesus Loves the Little Ones Like Me" song from his Bible songs DVD.  

We would have loved to go with Daddy to the celebration for Pastor John's 33-year ministry at Bethlehem, but it's been a nice kind of evening to chip away at things at home.

For anybody who is interested, here is Pastor John's Easter message, his last sermon as a pastor at Bethlehem.

Pastor Transition

Sunday night we installed our new Pastor for Preaching & Vision at Bethlehem Baptist, Jason Meyer.

How we praise God for His work in this transition!

Thank You for 15 Years of Ministry, Pastor Sam!

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This year marks Sam Crabtree's 15th year at Bethlehem.  Our cup runs over!

Dedication

Dear Victor Albert,

Sometimes it feels like life starts rolling too quickly to keep up.  That has been the past week or so.

You came down with a cold last week.  Just a normal, run-of-the-mill, sniffly-nosed, coughing, sneezing, droopy variety, but it pressed us pretty hard.

You needed some extra snuggling, and I couldn't do much when you were awake.  You woke yourself up coughing, so naptime (i.e. work time) took a hit.

Grammy and Grandad were coming for the weekend, and they were going to keep you overnight on Friday so Daddy and I could go to a bed and breakfast.  But you started gagging and choking on the phlegm draining down your throat, so we stayed home to be sure your night wasn't too rough.

When you're sick, I feel like every muscle of my body tenses up, wanting to make you okay.  But even just a little cold shows that I'm not sufficient to protect you.

So it was a good weekend for your child dedication.

Together with your parents who love you dearly, and this people who care about the outcome of your faith, I dedicate you to God, surrendering together with them all worldly claims upon your life in the hope that you will belong wholly to Jesus Christ, forever.

It's our privilege and very precious joy to be your parents, Victor Albert.  And it's a high calling.

There are five promises we gave our "I do" to in front of the congregation:

1. Do you recognize these children as the gifts of God and give heartfelt thanks for God’s blessing?
2. Do you now dedicate your children to the Lord who gave them to you, surrendering all worldly claims upon their lives in the hope that they will belong wholly to Jesus Christ?
3. Do you pledge as parents that, with God’s fatherly help, you will bring up your children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, making every reasonable effort, with patience and love, to build the Word of God, the character of Christ and the joy of the Lord into their lives?
4. Do you promise to provide, through God’s blessing, for the physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual needs of your children, looking to your own heavenly Father for the wisdom, love and strength to serve them and not use them?
5. Do you promise, God helping you, to make it your regular prayer that by God’s grace your children will come to trust in Jesus Christ alone for the forgiveness of their sins and for the fulfillment of all his promises to them, even eternal life; and in this faith follow Jesus as Lord and obey his teachings?

We aren't sufficient for the task.  But we know the All-Sufficient One and put you in His hands, even as we put ourselves there again too.

May the LORD be your counselor all the days of your life.
Even in the night, may the LORD instruct your heart.
May you always set the LORD before you.
May the LORD always be at your right hand so that you will never be shaken.
May your heart be glad; your tongue rejoice; and your body rest secure.
May the LORD make known to you the path of life, fill you with joy in His presence, and give you pleasures at His right hand forever and ever. 

We love you, Victor Albert.

Momma and Daddy

Andrew Peterson, Cedar Valley, and Bethlehem

Sometimes the strands of life weave together in an unexpected way.


On Monday, I listened to this presentation by Andrew Peterson called "What If? The Place of Imagination in God's Kingdom."


The message sent me back to my early days as a writer and my first book, Jill, the Princess Mermaid. (True confessions.)  I don't know how many books I started in my youth...and then I ended up as a English Writing major in college.

It was delightful, so I was excited to listen to the second presentation, "So What? The Place of Imagination in God's Kingdom." An early line struck me: Imagination waters the garden of hope.  Got my creative juices flowing.

And then he started talking about the song, "Queen of Iowa," written about a woman with AIDS in Cedar Rapids, IA who is full of hope in Jesus.  He said, "People brag about the fact that they know Jody."

And I know Jody.

Well, really, I have only gotten to meet her in person once, many years ago.  But it is my growing-up church, Cedar Valley Bible Church, that is mentioned in the store Andrew tells--a story about the couple, John and Jody, and how Jody contracted AIDS through a violent rape and John has faithfully loved and cared for her for a decade and a half, and how they both came to know Jesus through it, and how a church reached out to them to cover them with care and prayer.

And it makes me again remember how thankful I am for that little Bible church, where I saw Christ's body at work in such tangible ways all through my growing up years.

And coincidentally, Andrew Peterson is coming to my other church home for a concert on September 27. Ticket information here.

So, there's a tangle of connections for you, all pointing to God's grace at work.

(Here's a YouTube of "The Queen of Iowa."  Somebody tell me of that's not legal and I'll take it off!)

My September 11, 2001

I turned 20 years old on September 11, 2001. I was a sophomore at Northwestern College, and the events of that day made a deep impression on me. In my own little life, God revealed Himself particularly on that dark day 11 years ago. Here's the story (written in 2004).

September 2001

It came the Saturday before my birthday, a cream envelope with Mary Englebreit’s pastel roses and a little blue watering can adorning the front. The handwriting for the address was my mother’s. I decided to save it, flipping it casually onto the stack of papers on my desk in my dorm room.

After all, I couldn’t open the card on the 8th; my birthday was still three days away.

Monday night, the night before my birthday, was a late one. The clock’s unblinking red numerals read 12:30 by the time I pulled on fuzzy blue pajama pants and a wrinkled Iowa Cyclones t-shirt in the bathroom, groggy and anxious to get to bed. Sarah was already asleep, and Jenny was still out in the end lounge reading psychology and eating popcorn. 12:30 a.m. I thought. It’s officially my birthday. I’m not a teenager anymore. The weight of two decades of existence seemed somehow momentous in the compact bathroom, and on an impulse, I dropped to my knees on the dingy navy blue rug. How melodramatic… I thought.

But since there was no one to laugh at me, I squeezed shut my eyes and whispered, “God, I don’t know what the future holds for me, but here I am, twenty years old. You take my life, the seconds and days of this year, and do something good in me. Bring glory to Your name. Amen.”

And then I went to bed, in the first hour of September 11, 2001.

* * *

When I was little, I used to dream about flying, about bungee jumping and sky diving. But my fascination with soaring alongside the birds was utterly squelched in my first personal flying experience. My senior class was going to Florida for our five-day senior-class trip in March 2000. We flew AirTran from Moline, IL to Atlanta, then down to Orlando. Unfortunately, we sat in the Atlanta airport for three hours while our plane underwent repairs. Besides becoming very unenthusiastic about the comforts of airport waiting areas, my confidence in our aircraft evaporated.

Seems like if you’ve got to work for three hours to fix something, it may be best to ditch the plane altogether…

We did eventually board, then sat there for another half hour while technicians fiddled around some more. Nerves made my stomach buzz like a hive of rattled hornets.

The plane finally started rolling down the runway, and my seatbelt was cinched around my waist as tightly as I could yank. Behind me, two guys from my class, both very experienced with flying, started muttering to each other.

“Look at those wings; they’re not supposed to flop up and down like that,” Danny sounded grim.

Josh, who was practicing for his pilot’s license, gave a concerned grunt of agreement. The plane bumped down the runway, thunking along faster and faster.

Danny leaned forward to speak in my ear. “Just so you know, this isn’t normal. I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

The hornets in my stomach whipped into a frenzy, and I wanted to puke. God, give me grace. God, give me grace. I would’ve cried, but I was too scared for any tears.

Out the window, lines and poles flashed by faster still, and the rhythmic bumping churned into high gear.

“This is it; this is where we die!” Danny leaned forward in morbid excitement.

I squeezed my eyes shut. God, give me grace!

Shuddering a little, the plane lifted laboriously and haltingly rose above the airport. My abdominal muscles did not unclench through the entire rocky flight.

Since the trauma of that first flight, planes have remained my worst fear.

* * *

I was sitting on our beige dorm room couch, eating a bowl of birthday Honey Nut Cheerios, when the news report on the radio announced that a small plane had run into the World Trade Center. My stomach gave a little half-shudder. Starting my 20th birthday with a plane crash. Great.

It was not until I got to my 8:40 class that more news emerged, shooting a panicked adrenaline through my body. It wasn’t just a plane hitting a building; it was two planes, exploding through the Twin Towers. This was not a case of malfunctioning flight mechanisms; it was premeditated, intentional. The damage was not a few caved-in offices; the two buildings had collapsed.

The day took on a nightmarish feel. Clusters of people were talking everywhere—war, a draft, terrorism, Al Quida. There would be more planes, I knew, unconsciously scanning the brilliant blue sky above as I walked to Maranatha Hall. This was the just the beginning.

In chapel, I looked around at the rows and rows of young adults who usually chattered and tackled each other and laughed their way from class to class. All these men may be gone tomorrow, thoughts clenched my mind in panic. Who knows but that this is the beginning of the third World War.

My dad. What was the maximum age of the military draft? Would they take my dad away from me, take him to fight and die overseas?

Ironically, the sun beamed as I carried my birthday lunch from Café Naz outside, alone. I was jumpy, ears straining for the sound of aircraft, bracing myself for attack. I bowed my head for a mechanical prayer. There is no God. my mind taunted me. You are going to die.

I avoided televisions. It was bad enough to know that thousands were dead. Men had called their families to say good-bye, they were going to die. I did not want the image of an airplane nose piercing the thin skin of a tower seared into my memory. There was no good news.

I spent an hour of my birthday evening praying, alone in an end lounge. God, don’t leave me here. Don’t desert me now. There was no answer but the buzzing of the lights overhead.

It was finally bedtime, just twenty-four hours after I had knelt in the dingy little bathroom to pray. Was this God’s answer? Would this year be punctuated with raw terror ripping through every enclave of my life?

The yellow and white checked bedspread didn’t seem heavy enough as I clambered into bed. The white dorm walls were almost transparent, frail against the black outside. I was almost under the covers when I saw the envelope on my desk.

My birthday card.

Desperate for some shadow of normalcy, I flopped out of bed onto the orange carpet and grabbed the card, climbing back onto the top bunk to read.

My mom’s smooth, curling writing filled most of the inside.

Dear Amy, it read.

My shoulders drooped against the wall, and I felt the clenched muscles relax slightly.

As I anticipate your birthday, my mind goes back to those days when I was anticipating your birth. I was a little nervous about getting your two older sisters settled in someone else’s care and making it to the hospital on time. (As it turned out, there was no real rush. )

My legs felt long and heavy, finally loosening to sink into the mattress.

When I went through my “refresher Lamaze” course to get ready for labor, I decided to use Isaiah 41:10 as a focus for my thoughts:

I hugged my pillow against my chest.

“Do not fear, for I am with you.
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you.
Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

For a second, my breath caught, and I had to swallow and blink away a swell of warm tears.

That verse was a great reminder of my Father’s presence and help when you were born- And it has encouraged me other times since then. I pray you will experience the peace of knowing God’s presence and help throughout your life. You are such a joy to us…

Love, Mom and Dad

Fumbling for my Bible, my hands shook a little as I flipped the pages to Isaiah 41. The words were nestled there, straight lines in small, solid black text, as though printed precisely for this moment.

God is here, my heart trembled and quieted. God is here. And in little scrawling numbers next to verse 10, I penciled 9/11/01.

Photo Book for Pastor David

Today we all three got to go to the Bethlehem staff meeting to honor Pastor David and Karin Livingston for their 25th anniversary at Bethlehem.

It was a wonderful privilege to honor God for them. Many staff and friends submitted stories and notes of how God has used the Livingstons. Take a look...

Click here to view this photo book larger

Grieving a Loss

Whether you have experienced a great sorrow or loss, or if you just know someone who has, this message is an excellent word.

I think just about everyone should listen, if for no other reason than to learn a little bit better how to love those who are experiencing sorrow.

My Boss

This year marks David Livingston's 25th anniversary as a pastor at Bethlehem.  He has been my boss all 8 years I've worked at Bethlehem, and besides that has grown to be like a "Northern dad" to me.

Pastor John wrote a wonderful note to commemorate.

Happy Birthday, Joby!

The Kattersons are all in blue to celebrate Joby's 50th birthday!



Happy birthday to our wonderful office manager, boss, omnicompetent woman, and generally amazing saint of Christ Jesus!