I wonder now why raising support ever stressed me out.
Several times the past few weeks, people have come to me with checks, asked for support letters, or offered to buy my paintings.
Why do I worry? Why do I freak out? God knows what I need. You know what I need. Your love is strong.
John Piper tweeted something today about the importance of preaching to yourself. When my roommates get stressed about the future, I just say, “Lilies and sparrows, babe. He knows, He’s got it figured out.” Saying that to myself does so much good, and receiving donations for my upcoming Race underlines the truth of His provision. My friend Nate, who also lives on the tithes of others, said this week,
“I constantly have the feeling like… God just gave me this money.”
Every time someone hands me any money or encouragement or email prayer, it feels like God looking straight at me and saying, I see you. I love you.
Tuesday is my favorite right now. It’s sleep-in-bake-things-write-songs-paint day. Throw that in the mix with my freshman LIFE group, and you’ve got a happy Katie. Even so, every day is Work on Book Translation Day, and that’s not so happy.
The translation devastates my heart with every page. Peace by Piece is my friend Peter’s memoir, and I’ve come to see him as “the Forrest Gump of oppression”. From his birth as a German Jew in Stutthof Concentration Camp, to a string of rape and abuse in Polish orphanages, to having a black father in 1960s Atlanta, to fighting in Vietnam, this man has lived through everything hateful that life could offer. I know the end of the story. It’s one of a powerful encounter with God and a choice to forgive that cripples all 60 years worth of hate and hurt. Today, Peter is one of the happiest, most whole and peaceful people I have ever met. There is a subtle strength in his presence. He loves.But at this point in the book, recounting (in French) the details of each abusive episode, I want to call him and tell him through my tears, how sorry I am that he faced these atrocities. I want to tell him how it I’ll make up for it by loving every child I meet as if they were him. I know what he’d say: that forgiveness is final, that Jesus overcame all those things for him. That’s the point of his story.
Even so, my heart breaks for the children, even today, orphaned by wars they don’t remember, suffering the brunt of hatred they don’t understand. Hopefully, next year, I will encounter these children. I know I’ll see 9-year-old Peter in their eyes. I’ll tell them that no matter what anyone has told them or done to them, God sees them. God loves them. He’s sending me to love them. Lilies and sparrows.
