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.

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 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. 

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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."

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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. 

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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.

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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.)

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 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.

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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.

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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.

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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. 

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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. 

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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

Dating

For many, figuring out the dating scene is wading through pretty murky waters.  Here's a good message on the whole realm of relationships, dating, courting, and so forth.

Takeaway points:

- Men, take initiative. 
- Women, don't have unrealistic expectations in what you're looking for in a husband (i.e. handsome, financially-secure, not a sinner, comfortable with children, speaks in poetry).  Don't have expectations that are too low (breathing and interested).
- Men, look at the women who are serving right in front of you.  Don't miss someone just because she might not fit the "profile" you were expecting.
- Women, a date is not the same as dating.  Don't put undue pressure on some early opportunities to get to know someone.
- Men and women, don't pursue a relationship with someone who isn't growing in closeness with Jesus.  It's not enough if someone says, "I'm a Christian."  Watch for the trajectory of their life.

Our Story: A Long Wait

For the first installment of this long story, see Our Story: Introductions.  Second installment, see Our Story: Rescued.


Our Story: A Long Wait
Dreams, Disappointment, Deepening, Drama

“What God gives us is not necessarily 'ours' but only ours to offer back to him, ours to relinquish, ours to lose, ours to let go of, if we want to be our true selves. Many deaths must go into reaching our maturity in Christ, many letting goes.”

― Elisabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity: Learning to Bring Your Love Life Under Christ's Control

A lot of water under the bridge since that day at age 5 (for me, age 8 for Ben) when grace broke in.

I went through high school without a date.  Without being asked out, actually.  Had a good group of friends and a few crushes.  

I remember lying in my grandparents' bed before going to college my freshman year, worrying that I would not find a husband there.  Northwestern College had a 4 to 1 ratio of girls to boys.  I didn't figure my odds were too hot.

I thought I met the man of my dreams during my freshman year.  Subtle hints of interest (at least according to my roommate), a solid leader, and headed for the pastorate.  I was sold.  We parted ways for the summer, saw each other again the next fall, and he ended up marrying a good friend of mine.  (I went to the wedding with my roommate, who may or may not have mentioned to the groom that it was not too late to marry me.)

It would be an overstatement to say I had a broken heart, but I was disappointed.  My sophomore year brought some mild interest from another guy, who was actually from my hometown, but that never developed into anything either.  A man from another school, who I barely knew from a Sunday school class, called on Valentine's Day--probably to ask me out.  But I was so flustered and awkward, that I fumbled the whole kit and caboodle in a horrible way, and I never talked to him again.  In fact, I don't think he ever came back to the class. 

From there on, no news of note.  I was involved in student discipleship and had a really good group of friends on campus.  At the beginning of my junior year, I started attending Bethlehem.  I didn't know many people, but I started coming to Jack and Mary Delk's college class and volunteered as an usher and greeter for worship services.  

I started leading a shepherd group for college girls, and Jack and Mary mentored those of us who were college group leaders.  We came to their home for Bible study and prayer.  One day, Mary happened to mention she needed someone to clean their house.  So I started cleaning for them weekly.  And it was on one of those cleaning afternoons when Mary suggested I apply to Bethlehem for work when I graduated.

So it was that I did not move home to Iowa after graduation in 2004, but found a great new home in the first-floor apartment of Tom Steller's house (with the purple bathroom), rooming with a soon-to-be bosom buddy Sarah and Grandma Nancy, just a few blocks from the Downtown Campus of Bethlehem.

God did a lot of work on me during college.  For me, college meant stepping away from the security of just taking my parents' advice and hanging out with my Christian friends.  Little by little I found myself venturing into deeper faith-testing water.  Going out at 10pm on Friday nights to witness at Franklin and Chicago with Streetlight.  Mission trip to Ensenada, Mexico.  Leading Bible studies on a dorm floor.  9/11 (my 20th birthday).  Striking up a long-term friendship with Verle and Genevieve Horton, from the nearby neighborhood.  Mission trip to New York City.  

By the time I graduated, singleness wasn't quite the threat of doom that it was 4 years earlier.  I was thrilled to be working at Bethlehem--would have been happy to just put a cot in my cubicle and live there.  But I was nevertheless quite without prospects.  

And the years kept ticking by with no new news.

Meanwhile...

Ben doesn't have a lot to say about relationships in his "days of youth."  He never dated anyone.  There was a crush on a friend Sarah, and a penpal Nancy, who came to visit in New Zealand, but no romantic attachments to speak of.

Now that I know him, I can envision there were quite the string of young women who were probably secretly hoping that the friendly smile and cheerful, buoyant, fun-loving camaraderie would have led to something more...  But he was more interested in sports and languages, magic tricks and camping, culinary adventures and seeing new places.

He was in high school when his dad announced to the family that he was leaving.  Divorced.  Re-married.  Divorced again.  A decade later, in violent grace, God smacked him with "a holy 2x4" (to use his words) and breathed life again into a long-rebelling heart.  Ben drove from Connecticut up to New Hampshire to see him and witnessed a man devastated, exhilarated, and insane.  Either God had met Ed in flaming, grace-filled power or he needed the loony-bin. 

In the end, it was the grace-filled power.  Within a few months, Ed moved to Minneapolis to go to the church where John Piper preached.  Ben's brother Nathan, newly-married to Laura, followed within a year.

I joined Bethlelem as a covenant member in February 2004, the same weekend when Ed did.  In the spring of 2005, I transitioned from part-time ministry assistant in Urban Ministries and part-time Adult Ministries to fully Adult Ministries.  Laura Katterson was the new Urban ministry assistant, and I got to train her in. 

And after reading books and listening to sermon tapes by John Piper, mailed from Nathan, at last Ben himself moved to Minneapolis in the summer of 2005, eager to drink deep from the Bethlehem fire hydrant.

And the Summer of Hot Dogs was to be an unexpected turning point in my life.





 

Next Installment: First Sight 

Redeeming Singleness

I just read John Piper's foreword to a new book Redeeming Singleness.

Not only does it make me want to read the book, but the foreword itself was a very good word.

HT: Desiring God blog