"You can't tell God how, and you can't tell Him, 'Now!'" Words I've heard Margo, a mentor, say several times, but honestly, I'm having a hard time right now. For the past two years, I've enjoyed working a wonderful job in the promotions department for two Christian radio stations, with coworkers who truly felt "like family," and having the opportunity to build my faith everyday, while making a positive impact on others at the same time. Then, in a week's time, the rug was ripped out from under us. Our stations were sold and we are now suddenly left to find a way to move on while we are all still in shock.
I do not know how I will be able to enjoy another job as much as this one. Granted, it was challenging, and there were plenty of times I complained, but it was always worth it in the end... especially when we'd hear from listeners whose eternal lives were changed because of our stations. I just can't imagine not coming into the office and working with the same 20 people every day... it's heartbreaking, but the most heartbreaking, is to think of the listeners who will be without their favorite station.
Our listeners are so loyal... just like the employees (I honestly don't know what I'm going to listen to now)... and some of them will be fine. The ones who were already strong in their faith will still be Christians, and probably still listen to Christian music one way or the other... But the listeners that are right on the edge, and need us to give them that little nudge to cross the line... what will they do? I once heard a quote on evangelism and witnessing, "You may be the only Bible someone ever reads." Well, for some listeners, we are their church!
I am just so astounded that a company that prides itself on being a Christian-based company would be so "UGH!" Maybe the problem is that it does pride itself... and it is Christian-based. Because I have now come to be of the opinion that it is impossible for a company to be both "Christian-based" and "publicly traded."
When we're working extra hours, graciously agreeing to log "comp time" instead of charging the company overtime. We tell ourselves, "It's not about the money... It's about the ministry." But try quantifying that to the stockholders who are more interested in sums than souls... more concerned with building their portfolios than building the Kingdom... Don't make budget and you're considered dead weight they need to sell off... Make budget and you are now a profitable frequency that will bring in a good sale... Heads, they win. Tails, you lose... Sorry :(
I know that God has a plan, and will find a way to use this for good... but I've never been well-stocked in the patience department, and right now I'm pretty miffed... Looks like I'm in for another lesson in perseverance...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
A New Normal...
It's been a rough week, but I always get emotional around this time of year. Seven years ago this past Tuesday, January 8, I lost my best friend. Not to an argument that ended our friendship... Not to growing pains that caused us to grow apart... We were kindred spirits in the truest sense of the word... Born only a week apart, and best friends before we were even old enough to know what a best friend was.
When I was seven, and my parents' separation caused us to have to move in with family six hours away, both our moms expected us to drift apart. After all... there is only so long that a boy and girl can be best friends before one or the other magically contracts "cooties." But, we stayed close. Partly because our mom's remained best friends and made sure we saw each other often, talked on the phone, and wrote letters. We even went on an annual vacation together every summer to one of the state bike trails.
The summer of 2000 was our last vacation together, and Matthew was going through a lot of struggles with depression and substance abuse. So much so, that his mom decided to move him to a different school, in hopes the change of scenery would help him get back on track... it didn't. The evening of January 8th, 2001, in typical Matthew impulsiveness, he decided the easiest way to end his pain, was to end his life, and he hung himself.
I cannot even describe the devastation. Matthew was the only friend I had who had known me from birth, and I never imagined that the boy I played with in the sandbox would not always be there. We were only 17... far too young to have to face such a harsh blow to my idealist world view.
At his visitation and funeral, his parents made a point of taking me aside, along with some close family friends from our moms' old Bible study group, and just praying over me for a good half an hour. I do not know if I would have been able to get through the pain without that incredible spiritual experience... it changed my life forever, thought it took some time for the changes to be recognizable.
For months I did nothing but sit around in my pajamas, pouring over old photo albums and watching old home videos over and over again. I couldn't bring myself to socialize with my other friends, because I felt guilty having fun. But a few months later, his mom was on the phone with mine, and she shared how hard it was for her to be going through his things. Then she shared that she had found a large envelope in one of his dresser drawers, and in it he had saved every one of the encouraging letters and cards that I had sent him. That was a major turning point for me... as was this past Tuesday.
For the past seven years, Matthew has been growing up along with me, in my mind... and let me elaborate before you start thinking I'm crazy... When I graduated high school, I was thinking, 'Matthew should be graduating.' When I moved into my room at college I was thinking, 'Matthew would be moving into his dorm right now,' and wondering where he would have chosen to go. When I turned 21, when I graduated college, I was always thinking about how, if Matthew were still alive, he would be going through the same things, but this year was different.
I am 24 now, which is a long way away from 17. I have two younger sisters who are 21 and 18. My younger brother is 17... he's just a kid! We were just kids! And my pain is completely different looking back as an adult, than it was as a devastated teenager.
It is by no means gone. I still miss him, and think about him almost everyday, but it is a different kind of pain. I have learned to cope with it... I've gotten used to it. And the best way I can explain it is the way a doctor explained things to a cousin of mine who was undergoing surgery for chronic pain. He told her that she would probably improve, but not to expect to feel the same as she did before the pain started. It would be a new normal for her. And that is how is has been with Matthew...
The pain hasn't gone away... I will never be the Kate I was before he died... It's a new normal. And it's the same with Christ... Once you come to faith, and decide to live your life as a Christian, out of love for His sacrifice, you will never be the same... It won't erase the memories of previous mistakes, but you will be able to live a new kind of life in spite of them... You'll be a NEW NORMAL!
When I was seven, and my parents' separation caused us to have to move in with family six hours away, both our moms expected us to drift apart. After all... there is only so long that a boy and girl can be best friends before one or the other magically contracts "cooties." But, we stayed close. Partly because our mom's remained best friends and made sure we saw each other often, talked on the phone, and wrote letters. We even went on an annual vacation together every summer to one of the state bike trails.
The summer of 2000 was our last vacation together, and Matthew was going through a lot of struggles with depression and substance abuse. So much so, that his mom decided to move him to a different school, in hopes the change of scenery would help him get back on track... it didn't. The evening of January 8th, 2001, in typical Matthew impulsiveness, he decided the easiest way to end his pain, was to end his life, and he hung himself.
I cannot even describe the devastation. Matthew was the only friend I had who had known me from birth, and I never imagined that the boy I played with in the sandbox would not always be there. We were only 17... far too young to have to face such a harsh blow to my idealist world view.
At his visitation and funeral, his parents made a point of taking me aside, along with some close family friends from our moms' old Bible study group, and just praying over me for a good half an hour. I do not know if I would have been able to get through the pain without that incredible spiritual experience... it changed my life forever, thought it took some time for the changes to be recognizable.
For months I did nothing but sit around in my pajamas, pouring over old photo albums and watching old home videos over and over again. I couldn't bring myself to socialize with my other friends, because I felt guilty having fun. But a few months later, his mom was on the phone with mine, and she shared how hard it was for her to be going through his things. Then she shared that she had found a large envelope in one of his dresser drawers, and in it he had saved every one of the encouraging letters and cards that I had sent him. That was a major turning point for me... as was this past Tuesday.
For the past seven years, Matthew has been growing up along with me, in my mind... and let me elaborate before you start thinking I'm crazy... When I graduated high school, I was thinking, 'Matthew should be graduating.' When I moved into my room at college I was thinking, 'Matthew would be moving into his dorm right now,' and wondering where he would have chosen to go. When I turned 21, when I graduated college, I was always thinking about how, if Matthew were still alive, he would be going through the same things, but this year was different.
I am 24 now, which is a long way away from 17. I have two younger sisters who are 21 and 18. My younger brother is 17... he's just a kid! We were just kids! And my pain is completely different looking back as an adult, than it was as a devastated teenager.
It is by no means gone. I still miss him, and think about him almost everyday, but it is a different kind of pain. I have learned to cope with it... I've gotten used to it. And the best way I can explain it is the way a doctor explained things to a cousin of mine who was undergoing surgery for chronic pain. He told her that she would probably improve, but not to expect to feel the same as she did before the pain started. It would be a new normal for her. And that is how is has been with Matthew...
The pain hasn't gone away... I will never be the Kate I was before he died... It's a new normal. And it's the same with Christ... Once you come to faith, and decide to live your life as a Christian, out of love for His sacrifice, you will never be the same... It won't erase the memories of previous mistakes, but you will be able to live a new kind of life in spite of them... You'll be a NEW NORMAL!
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Don't Make Me Count to Three...
Last night, our family got together with some other families from church to celebrate the New Year. One couple in attendance used to be youth group leaders when I was in high school, and the wife even accompanied our youth group to a large youth gathering when I was 17, and I just learned that she was my age when she took our youth group on that trip. Their enthusiasm for youth ministry played a big role in my desire to volunteer with a church youth group once I conclude my graduate degree.
The couple now has two young, feisty daughters, and my mother took it upon herself to swap some stories of her own feisty daughter's (me) in-church antics. While discussing the challenges of raising strong-willed daughters, I shared a bit of the logic behind why I was disciplined far more than my younger sister...
When my mother would give us "to the count of three" to stop whatever we were doing, Kara would stop immediately, but I always pushed. Think about it... If you're going to give me to the count of three, why would I want to stop on one, when I can continue to have fun misbehaving until two or two and a half?
The problem with this juvenile logic, is that you never know when she's going to get to three. Sometimes, in trying to push as far as I could, I would sometimes misjudge, and "three" would just sneak up on me, and before I knew it, I was banished to a chair in the corner of the dining room, or biting down on a bar of soap.
As I've continued to think about this, along with my usual goals for the new year, like becoming a better person, etc... I started to think about my human sinful nature, and, while it has been quite some time since I have heard my mom count to three, my childish strong will has not changed.
Sinning comes so easy for us humans, no doubt aided by the fact that the devil sugar coats evil to make sin seem like so much fun, but we have been warned that Jesus will return to earth and we will face judgement for our sins. It's tempting to believe we will always have tomorrow to turn our acts around, but we have been told that no one knows when Judgement Day will come. It could be hundreds of years from now, or before tonight is over. Don't let God get to "three" before you're ready...
The couple now has two young, feisty daughters, and my mother took it upon herself to swap some stories of her own feisty daughter's (me) in-church antics. While discussing the challenges of raising strong-willed daughters, I shared a bit of the logic behind why I was disciplined far more than my younger sister...
When my mother would give us "to the count of three" to stop whatever we were doing, Kara would stop immediately, but I always pushed. Think about it... If you're going to give me to the count of three, why would I want to stop on one, when I can continue to have fun misbehaving until two or two and a half?
The problem with this juvenile logic, is that you never know when she's going to get to three. Sometimes, in trying to push as far as I could, I would sometimes misjudge, and "three" would just sneak up on me, and before I knew it, I was banished to a chair in the corner of the dining room, or biting down on a bar of soap.
As I've continued to think about this, along with my usual goals for the new year, like becoming a better person, etc... I started to think about my human sinful nature, and, while it has been quite some time since I have heard my mom count to three, my childish strong will has not changed.
Sinning comes so easy for us humans, no doubt aided by the fact that the devil sugar coats evil to make sin seem like so much fun, but we have been warned that Jesus will return to earth and we will face judgement for our sins. It's tempting to believe we will always have tomorrow to turn our acts around, but we have been told that no one knows when Judgement Day will come. It could be hundreds of years from now, or before tonight is over. Don't let God get to "three" before you're ready...
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