Coming Out

Will you love the "you" you hide if I but call your name?

Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same?

Will you use the faith you've found to reshape the world around,

through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me.

-The Summons

Today has been one of those "go, go, go" days.  Tuesday and Thursdays tend to be that way, seeing as majority of my classes take place on these days.  While it can be wonderfully filling, it is also full of motion.  Going here, then there, then back here.  You get the picture, right?

There were two times in my busy day where I was just sitting and as I like to say, "being".  The first was at Morning Prayers which was part of the Smyth Lectures being held here on campus.  (Justo Gonzalez was our guest lecturer and AMAZING.  He's worth a google.  Seriously.) The second time I was able to just sit and be was at the Imago Dei Coming Out Day Worship Service.  

Today, October 11, is National Coming Out Day.  It is a day to promote a safe world for LGBT individuals to live truthfully and openly.   Imago Dei is our LGBT alliance group here on campus, and I am honored to serve as a co-moderator for this group.  I feel blessed also to serve as an ally to the LGBT community.   

We are pilgrims on the journey
We are siblings on the road
We are here to help each other
Walk the mile and bear the load
- Servant Song

Being an ally isn't just in my nature, it's in my heart.  The pride and admiration I feel for friends who are LGBT isn't only because they are awesome and amazing individuals, but for their boldness in rejoicing who they are.  I am proud to walk along side them in seeking equality - in the working world, in the home, and in the church. I am not only an ally on days full of sunshine and rainbows, but I am an ally on the days when there seems to be no light shining at all.

I will hold the Christ light for you

In the night time of your fear

I will hold my hand out to you

Speak the the peace you long to hear.

- Servant Song

Regardless of where you stand - to the right or to the left, the aisle in between leads to the table that welcomes ALL.   I was reminded of this tonight at worship when the bread was broken, the cup poured out, and the blessing made.  Christ invited everyone to that table.  The table is not a place to hide behind nor is it to be used as a weapon of discrimination. 

I was reminded tonight. 

Blest be the tie that binds

Our hearts in Christian love;

The fellowship of kindred minds

Is like to that above.

From sorrow, toil and pain,

And sin, we shall be free,

And perfect love and friendship reign

Through all eternity.

All are welcomed at the table.  

Good Mourning and Holy Saturday's

I give much thanks to the imagination of the artist who had a sense of humor and the talent to create a sparsely-haired child who exclaimed, "good grief!" at various times of difficulty in his life.  This lovable little boy seemed to have the wisdom of the ages (or maybe it was the burden of the world?) that no one in his life could ever understand.

I've been mulling over these words for some time now,  "good grief" and what exactly does good grief mean?  What does it look like?  Does it exist beyond this exclamation from a fictional character? 
In playing with these words, I also was struck by the irony of the phrase, "good mourning".  Can mourning ever be a good thing?    

Loss is all around us - loss of a job, a relationship, a pet, or a person.  You can lose your home, or there is the loss of a life we used to know.  Something I've been struggling with it seems for a long time has been this idea of grief, this theme of loss.  This is not to say I walk around thinking of everything that has gone missing in  my life, but I do emotionally give credit where credit is due, so to speak.   These past few months have given me what seems loss after loss - from a relationship, of a beloved pet, and of dear friends.  

In Pastoral Care a few weeks ago, we mentioned the importance of sitting through Holy Saturday. This is the idea of being in the "not-knowing" part of Easter Weekend.  You can kind of guess what the followers of Christ were feeling on Good Friday - the devastating loss of Jesus.  Then we can maybe imagine the astonishment and relief that came in the Resurrection on Sunday.  So what was Saturday like for them?  They were still sitting in the grief of losing Jesus. It wasn't as if they just jumped to the "alleluia's" of Easter morning. 

A very wise friend of mine here at CTS put it another way in a note to me regarding some stuff that was weighing heavy on my heart this past spring.  She said, "It's hard to let things die, but sometimes we have to.  No matter what happens, know that you are a witness to life.  When we let things die, the death often overshadows life and that's okay.  Sit with the death for a while.  Indeed, Saturday was a very gloomy day after Jesus' death; but sit through Saturday with hope for Sunday and the news of the resurrection.  With hope for new life, you'll be a better witness to the life."

Many months later, I am able to read her words and see the hope that comes in that wonderful Sunday morning.  Maybe "good grief" and "good mourning" are not words to express the grief we live with; but better used  to express are sitting with the loss and addressing how we feel.  While there is much I don't know and probably never will when it comes to loss and grief, I do know that sitting in the space of Holy Saturday allows me to still mourn my friend a year later. And I recognize that the feeling of loss is indeed a true thing to explore and mull over.  And I feel ever so blessed to have a community to sit with during those Saturday's. 



"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body." 
2 Corinthians 4: 8-10

Master of Greek

Well friends...in case you hadn't heard - I survived Greek School at Columbia.  

Candid "Study Session Photo Shoot"

I made it through 40 days and 40 nights of learning another ancient language. 

And I came out on top. 

Saturday Morning Study Session

I've never been one too overly concerned with grades, but when you work really hard on something, it is kind of nice to have something to show for it.  

(Besides the Lisa Frank "You did it" stickers on my quizzes from my TA...)

Wonderful women along the journey!

Many thanks to all of you who kept me in your prayers as I went along the journey.  I am very grateful for the kind notes, the prayers said, the phone calls, and the texts that helped me remember that while yes, learning Greek is indeed important, so was remembering I'm a beloved child of God, despite if I can pronounce/translate/parse the following phrase:

χαιρετε εν κυριω παντοτε παλιν ερω χαιρετε (Philippians 4:4). 

Our shirts translate to mean, "I rule".

(which I can indeed pronounce/translate/parse.)

On completing Greek School,  I was able to go home for a few weeks to spend time with family and for my best friend's wedding - stay tuned for a picture post to come!  

Fall semester has started and I came back and hit the ground running - would you expect anything else? I do plan on continuing to blog as I continue on this journey of discernment. I pray you will follow along in my musings and observations, "Concerning the Call". 

χάρις ὑμῖν καὶ εἰρήνη ἀπὸ θεοῦ πατρὸς ἡμῶν καὶ κυρίου Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ.
(Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.)
~Katy

What's In A Name?

The other night while feasting on delicious desserts at our professor's house, the conversation starting revolving around names, and more specifically, nicknames.  We'd been talking about family nicknames and how they come about and why.  The funny part was, most of us couldn't remember!  My family is big on nicknames just like any other family and encompassed in those nicknames are more than just words - but love, affection, and identity.

It led me to think - what's in a name?  Of course I was reminded of the quote from  Romeo and Juliet and then I kept thinking of other names. 

Have you ever played that game where you say a word and then speak aloud the first word that comes to mind?

For example...

Up......

.........down!

In.......

........out!

Austin....

......College!  (Go Roos!)

Texas....

..........Longhorns!

And with names:

Michael....

........Jackson!

Jesus......
.......Christ!

Queen....
......Elizabeth!

A silly game I know, but you should try playing it with small children.  It is great fun!  The word association can be ridiculous, but also really meaningful.  

If you know me at all, you know I'm a bit particular when it comes to names - specifically, mine. I'm an elitist when it comes to spelling, pronouncing, and overall knowing my name.  My name is a part of my identity!  I'm named after someone meaningful to my family.  

I am a Kathryn.  Not a Catherine or Katherine, but a Kathryn.  The biggest difference lies in the pronunciation - Kath-ryn verses Kath-ER-rine.  Minor to some, but major to me.  

And thinking beyond my given name, I'm even MORE particular about the name I use most - Katy.  I am not a Catie, Katie, Caty, Caddy, Kady - it's K.A.T.Y.  There are only a few nicknames I accept.  My family calls me "Kat", I have some aunts who are allowed to call me "Kate", and then small children who struggle with "K" can say "Taty". 

Back to the word association game from earlier, in college, there was a plethora of "Katy's" on my campus.  Not all were spelled the same, but it could become highly confusing to many.  Our Chaplain's son, being quite young at the time and not recognizing letters quite yet, came up with his own unique way to distinguish us.  He "nicknamed" us.  

My nickname? 

LOUD Katy.  

Maybe not the nickname I would choose for myself, but it was indeed accurate. And it was said out of affection, love, and one that does indeed speak to my identity (I am a loud person...).

A few weeks ago as I was leaving a birthday party for a child I have the honor to babysit for, I was standing outside with the older brother.  This little man was in a fully induced sugar coma brought on by delicious cupcakes and also wiped from swimming diligently for the previous hours.  I was saying goodbye to the little guy and some of the other adults were trying to encourage him to say goodbye back with a "Goodbye Miss Katy".  This child was being a bit stubborn so I just gave him a hug and headed to my car.  As I'm about to get in, I hear him shout, 

"BYE MY KATY!"

I cannot even put into words how that made my heart feel!  
A nickname that claims me. 

A nickname filled with affection.  

A nickname filled with love. 

The verse from Isaiah reminds me of that idea of being claimed - being called - being loved:

But now, O Jacob, listen to the LORD who created you. O Israel, the one who formed you says, "Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine.
 -Isaiah 43:1

I have called YOU BY NAME.  You are MINE.  

Pretty simple words that are ever so powerful.  Our God creates us - our God claims us, our God calls us in affection and love.

Can I get an amen for the identity we find in that claiming? 

The "Root" of It All

Second grade was a defining year for me in my childhood.  I remember that year for many reasons but also because of the "firsts" I experienced.

- I "first" discovered just how much I loved reading and loved the library

- I "first" learned how AWESOME Little Sisters Baby Sitters Club books were

- I "first" got married (thanks to Karen's inspiration from said Little Sisters Baby Sitters Club books) on the playground

- It was the "first" time I was called bossy (and I assure you, not the last time!)

- It was the "first" time I was allowed to CHEW GUM in school

- It's the "first" time I remember having an "enemy" - who of course, happened to be a boy

- I "first" knew I wanted to be a teacher like Ms. Polly

- I "first" learned to ride a bike in 2nd grade (yes, a little late, but better late than never!)

My 2nd grade teacher was Ms. Polly, who I thought was ancient just as almost any child thinks when it comes to age and adults.  I must admit I remember feeling jealous of my twin's teacher, Mrs. Wasilewski, mainly because she gave bonus points on spelling tests if you spelled her name correctly.  


But Ms. Polly was a wonderful teacher who truly loved what she did.  

Besides being a gifted teacher and having just about the BEST cursive handwriting ever, she always smelled like peppermint, specifically, Wrigley's Extra peppermint gum, which she chewed non-stop. On Fridays, if you had survived the week without checks, the current form of discipline at that time, she would give you a mini baby blue colored pack of  peppermint gum.  


Let it be known hardly EVER did I make it to Friday without a check, but the Friday's I did, how I relished those 5 pieces of gum that were mine, all mine! 

Ms. Polly has been on my mind of late because last week I had my first ever (and ideally last ever) root canal. You might be wondering what on earth does my second grade teacher have to do with a root canal, but during my second grade year, I had my first introduction to what a root canal was.  Now mind you, it was the early 90's and dentistry has come a long way since then, but I still had an increased heart rate when the dentist mentioned I would be needing a root canal.  Ms. Polly happened to need a root canal while I was her student, and when she came back, she described the ENTIRE EXPERIENCE to us naive children who had no knowledge of the scary adult world of dentistry.  

I remember going home that day and brushing the heck out of my teeth and flossing.  I continued to live in fear for the remaining of my childhood of going to the dentist and having them say, "you need a root canal". 

So, twenty years later, here I am, receiving the verdict of the pain in my mouth.  My first thought (after Ms. Polly's story) was, "how much is this going to hurt?".   After the VERY kind nurse talked me down and told me a root canal was just like getting a filling (semi-true),  I found myself wondering what the "root" cause of this problem was.  (Long story short, the root canal was due to an improper crown procedure a year ago, so it is kind of true!)  

After receiving the procedure, (which wasn't too bad) I found myself thinking about the version Ms. Polly had given to mine.  Did she elaborate just to scare us small children into taking better care of our teeth?  Did my childish mine exaggerate the story I was actually told?  Did all my visits to the library ready fictional stories encourage me to add a little fiction to my life? Was it really that horrible of an experience for her?  And then I wondered just how much of her story possibly got exaggerated in my imaginative little mind...

This whole experience has made me think about what takes root and what doesn't.  Of all the things I learned during second grade - a root canal, gum, and cursive hand writing are what I think of most with my teacher.  In all this, I'm trying to be more aware now of what takes root.  Is it really important to remember how someone honked their horn at me on Ponce because I didn't speed up like Speed Racer when the light turned green?  Is it important to remember how someone treated me poorly that one time on that one day?  Or should those precious brain cells be "rooted" in memories having a stranger smile at me or remembering kind words said to me by a friend?


 I'm a to-do list kind of gal and I've added something to my night time routine.  Each night before going to bed, I think about what I want to take "root" in my mind for the day.  I try to shake off the negative thoughts and "accentuate the positive".

Lifelong Learning

Hello Friends!

I've been meaning to share this for awhile, and finally am!  This is an article I wrote for the Lifelong Learning publication, "Journeying Together" here at Columbia.  The article kind of explains how I came to be at CTS (well, at least the starting point!).

If you know me at all, I ask questions - sometimes more than others!  My journey started with a question - read more about it here!

Blessings and Happy 4th of July!

Soul Food

A sure sign of Texas and some soul food!

You might hear these words, "soul food", and immediately be reminded of something particular.  Living here in Atlanta, soul food often comes in dishes like mashed potatoes and fried chicken- or cheesy grits and giants flaky biscuits. I know many people who find nourishment for just about anything that ails them in the form of a pint of their favorite ice cream or in a familiar orange and white stripe box containing some chicken strips from Whataburger.  

Flash forward: 

my home church's youth choir was on their choir tour and had been traipsing across the south  - going to Nashville and singing in Virginia, North Carolina, and then headed back home through Tennessee. My sister happened to be on this very trip - I had some free time on my hands and was willing to drive a few hours to see my lovely little sister and the choir, and decided a weekend trip to Nashville was just the thing.  

Sister and I were lucky enough get the "night off" and chose our own place to dine in Nashville, while the rest of the gang headed to Ruby Tuesday.  Here is where soul food comes in the picture.  My little sister and I share a fondness for food we think just about cures what ails you - some times this comes in the form of a fresh batch of brownies or some other baked good (preferably with peanut butter) - other times it comes in the biggest Diet Cokes you can find...but most times, it comes in the form of Thai food.  WE LOVE THAI FOOD. So, instead of heading to Monell's or the Opry, we headed to this place:

AND IT WAS AMAZING. It looked a little sketch, but it had the best service and the food was amazing.  And just what we both wanted to eat.  The spring rolls were springy and crunchy, and the peanut sauce was phenomenal. And then the noodles...and chicken...yum!!! After being caught in a torrential rain storm which little sister managed to stay gorgeous in :

(I was mourning my chaco's being soaked, resulting in wet feet...which I HATE), we grabbed a latte and headed back to the hotel.  We were lucky enough to be able to watch Say Yes to the Dress and Randy to the Rescue while drying off before gathering with the youth choir for their last evening together on tour.

Thinking back to my quick trip to Nashville, I was nourished WAY more than just some amazing Thai noodles and lattes.  Spending time with my sister, spending time with these amazing youth whom I miss so much, and visiting with mentors and former staff workers who I miss daily was SO good for me - even if brief!  The smiles, hugs, laughs, and stories shared over 18 hours meant so much to my soul.  Even thinking about it now brings a smile to my face.  

So, cheers to "soul food" - whether it comes in the form of mom's homemade chicken spaghetti or in the stories and giggles (and Randy to the Rescue!!!) shared in a hotel room miles away from home.

And congratulations to CCPC's Revelation for the completion of yet another awesome choir tour!  It was such a joy to see you all and I am counting down the days until we see each other again!

But the joy that you have given me 
      is more than they will ever have 
      with all their grain and wine.

-Psalm 4:7