ten and eleven. [of ten thousand]

Here we are, the end of  a wonderful weekend.

I went to a show on Friday with my [former] roomie and it was excellent. Well, the two of the three bands were excellent. The headliner, The Head and The Heart had a really great set and I found some new music to intake from the opener, Bryan John Appleby.
I've been asked before how I "get into" a band. The typical process is usually:

1. Gotta dig the sound. 
• I have a fairly wide range of genres I like, hard to describe exactly what I like and why I like it...but I know what I like.
2. Scrutinize the lyrics
• Doesn't mean I have to completely understand or interpret them, sometimes that's near impossible. (Or actually impossible...Sigur Rós...) Sometimes the lyrics just paint a brillant image. But sometimes, and best of all, lyrics speak directly to my heart. Those songs that seem to take the jumble of my thoughts and emotions and put them into a great song.
3. Get to know the people.
• Call me a creeper, but I'm definitely in the habit of wanting to get to know the people behind the music. Even if I'm not actually meeting them, I love to learn and hear the stories of the artists, especially the ones who have written songs that really spoke to me. How does their story relate to mine?

Anyway, all that to say The Head and The Heart has written a couple of necessary songs. Songs that have lyrics that hit home. I couldn't help but belt them out with the rest of the crowd. 

ten.

"you're already at home where you feel loved"

Praise God for home. 

The kind of home that is more a state of the heart rather than a physical place. I think I associate "home" with people more than I do with places. My roomie is home. The Feavers are home. The kids and families of Espaço are home. My family is home. 

"these are the places I will always go"

eleven.

"and I am on my way, I am on my way back to where I started"

Praise God for memories. 

I know it's impossible and unhealthy to pine for the past, but I do think it's important to look back every once in awhile. To see where you came from and how you got to where you stand now. To remember and not forget. Look at Israel and how they were called to remember and not forget (the Psalter alone has so many other examples of salvation-history!)   So praise God for reminding me where I was, even though it's difficult to want to remember some of the places I was. Praise God I remember what it's like to be in a place of desperation. Praise God He brought me out of that. Praise God I'm not there now. Praise God I can see the signs and little red flags and have time and energy to do something about them. 

rivers and roads

rivers and roads

rivers till I reach You.

nine. [of ten thousand]

nine.
Praise God for knowing even the smallest details.
Those few extra minutes of sleep. That  feeling after a good shower. The smell of a hot cup of lav cream earl grey. Those first familiar chords of that one song. That safe, comfortable place in the company of your best friend.

It's the little things that remind me that God sees me and knows me. When I notice these little things, I remember He hasn't forgotten about me.

So, I keep fighting, knowing I'm not alone.

seven and eight. [of ten thousand]

I'd be lying if I said this has gotten easier each day. Going on in faith that one day it will be easier, that it will be as natural as breathing.

seven.
Praise God for cleaning.
My car, my room, my heart. Clearing the windshield to see, making a path to walk, shining the light of truth in to expose...from quite insignificant to most important, slowly but surely I'm we're making progress.


eight.

Praise God He's patiently full of grace.

As I was reminded through the radio today, "If I'm so thankful, why do I easily forget that You died for all of this?" This is why  I have to choose daily to see and remember just how good He's been to me. And every time I forget, He just patiently and gracefully reminds me again...and again...

six. [of ten thousand]

Today's reason for praise probably doesn't come as much of a surprise for those that know anything about my Wednesdays...

six.
Praise God for the gracious hearts, inquiring minds, and infectious joy of children. Wednesday evenings never fail to lift my spirit and bring a smile to my face. Praise God for my kinder lifegroup. Praise God for these two hours each week filled with shamelessly silly hand motions, meaningful games and crafts and encouragingly insightful discussions with the coolest four and five year olds.

five. [of ten thousand]

Here I am, end of today.

Funny how ever since making the decision to be intentionally focused on finding [at least] one reason a day to praise God, the days seem to present themselves with opportunities to do the opposite. But I've got another.

five.
Praise God He knows our hearts, He knows my heart.

Today I met with the director of Friends of Portugal to discuss my role in the organization. I'm going to be doing a lot of their  administrative  work (mailing lists, newsletters, etc.) and later on outreach and "advertising" (social media presence, website maintenance, seeking out blog content). I'm so excited to be moving from the "sidelines" of supporting what FOP is doing to being "put in the game" with this opportunity to be working with everyone to help them get things done! This position combines my clerical/administrative knowledge and experience with my love for and of Portugal in an excellent way. I know I'll really have to manage my time well with my full time job, kindergarten life group and other commitments in addition to this part-time postion, but it definitely helps that this is something I'm so passionate about!

Praise God for knowing I needed a way to be connected and involved with what's going on at home and providing one that utilizes the skills I'm gaining at the job He provided for me while I'm here.

four. [of ten thousand]

Yesterday I was dead asleep before 9pm. Yesterday, and today, my heart sang His praise for rest.

four.
Praise God for rest.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” -Matthew 11:28-30

And from that, I can see I'm still learning...

two and three. [of ten thousand]

Well, it's been a tough weekend. This really is a battle.

I'm determined to keep going, to keep trying, to keep fighting.

This morning I read through the majority of my previous posts. It left me feeling pretty convicted and down. Like, who is this girl writing these words? She's trying, she's learning, she's growing. And then she stopped. I stopped. But I'm back again, willing and wanting to pick up where I left off and move onward and upward.

Anyway,I have reasons two and three to share today:

two.
He sees me, He knows me, He loves me. Specifically: I am quite thankful He put the notion in my head to start up a blog at the beginning of this year. In my first post I mentioned that this would serve as a giant post-it of sorts. I remember things much better when they're written down. Even when I don't remember them, I can look back and remember if they're written down. I forgot, but I had written it down and now I'm remembering. He sees me, He knows me, He loves me.

three.
He provides. Specifically: I have a home, a bed, a car, a plethora of clothes, a full fridge and pantry and a steady job. The essentials and then some.

This is short, but it's something.

As another wise friend once told me, deep breaths and small steps.

one. [of ten thousand]

After quite a hiatus, I am back. Back with words, words that matter.

To be completely honest, these past couple of months have been/are still difficult. There are many factors  that have contributed to that. But I'm being honest here, so I have to say, the biggest factor is...ME.

Paul sums it pretty well here:
"For we know that the law is spiritual; but I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me."

I've definitely been feeling overwhelmed by my sin rather than His love. It's a constant battle within myself, and some days I really don't feel like fighting it. But I have to. Why? As a wise friend told me less than an hour ago, "to give up is to give away Christ's victory."

 As a step forward in this battle I'm challenging myself, and anyone who'd like to keep me accountable or join in, to find 10,000 reasons to praise God. (yeah, I was inspired by the song)

The plan is to share at least one a day. And these are  solid, specific reasons. 

Tonight, I praise God for the friends He's put in my life to pray me through this battle. For Trav and Beth and Tom, for Anna, for Lys, for Lauren, for Marissa,  Courtney, Fran, Micaella, Kelsey, Natalie, Cynthia, Ashley, Faith, Jianni, Amanda and Krissy, for Annie, for Marisela, for Amie, for Av, for Steven, for Sarah, for Emery, for Kim and Susan, and for so many others. These encouragers and prayer warriors,these friends and givers of great hugs, these tear-driers and hand-holders...they are reminders that I am seen, I am loved and I am not fighting this alone.

"But there's one other thing I remember, 

 and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
   his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He's all I've got."

- Lamentations 3:21-23 

clean up, aisle 4.

Caution: Word Vomit ahead.
You've been warned.


Have you ever had the feeling that something big is about to happen? Like in a movie, when the dramatic music starts building up and if you're me, you clutch the pillow beside you and brace yourself for the chaos but secretly hope that it's just a false alarm.

Okay, maybe that really is just me. But in any case, the music is playing in my head...and I just have this feeling that God's doing something in my heart, something big.

Where to begin? Let's start with the known. I think I remember learning that's what you're supposed to start with in problem solving. So, here's what I know:
I miss the community and culture of Massamá, Portugal on a daily basis.
God has done, is doing and will do some amazing things in and through Espaço Vida Nova. I want to be apart of that.
God has done, is doing and will do some amazing things in and through The Well. I love doing life with the girls and kindergartners in my Life Groups. I want to be apart of that.

Now for the unknown, the question(s)
Am I getting too comfortable here? Am I "settling in"? Am I supposed to?
Can "home" be in Clovis and Massamá?
What would it look like for me to love two places?Won't l I always be pining for one or the other, a constant "the grass is always greener" feeling?

[Okay,  these questions sound a bit ridiculous, like I'm trying to sort out a weird love triangle or something... ]

As I mentioned last time, I've been trying to come up with a mission statement--what I'm doing with my life. One of the phrases that lingers in that brainstorm is "sustainable relationships".
Relationships built with others that are founded and grown in Christ. Relationships that can withstand time, distance and life. Relationships that hold not I, but Christ, as the vital element. Is that what I'm doing in Fresno? Are those the kinds of relationships I'm developing? Will I be able to do that in Massamá too?

I don't think I'm going to get any further going on like this, but I figured it was better to get it out ask for help sorting through it. Anyway, sorry for the chaos...

work in progress.

I'll have more to share very soon, but for now...a preview of my brainstorm for a personal mission statement:

when children pray.

On Wednesdays, I hang out with Kindergartners. We sing, we pray, we play, we learn about Jesus--we do life together. It's a highlight of my week, every week.


At the beginning of the month I got a brand new group of kids to hang out with, the ones who will be going into Kindergarten in the fall. On the night of the "up-grade" one of the moms asked for my name, so they could pray for me during the week. I thought it was sweet, introduced myself and thanked her. Weeks passed and I kind of forgot about it.

Until tonight. The same mom came to pick up her daughter and this is the conversation we had:

Parent: "It's Katy, right?"
Me: "Yep, that's me"
Parent: "Ohhh, we hear all about Miss Katy at home!"
Me: "All good things, I hope!"
Parent: "Of course! A* tells me all about how she gets to sit next to Miss Katy during worship. Also that Miss Katy wears a ring, but doesn't have a husband."
*Laughter*
Parent: "So, thank you."
Me: "Umm, uhh..."
Parent: "We got to talk about purity and loving and serving God."

What an amazing story! I am really just relaying it...all I did was wear a ring and answer, to the great dismay of the eight girls that were there that night of the up-grade, that I wasn't married and didn't have kids. The parents of this precious child should be getting the praise here. For engaging in conversation and encouraging prayer with their daughter, even though she is "only" four years old. Look what great fruit is being reaped! Can you imagine what amazing conversations they could be having once she's fourteen? 

It all starts here. Kids.

That Jesus knew what He was talking about.

So talk to kids. Pray with kids. 

p.s. I've been inspired to re-read this book that I read while I was a children's ministry intern oh so long ago. It's a good one.

*name changed

adopted.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as He chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before Him in love. He destined us for adoption as His children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of His glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace that He lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of His will, according to his good pleasure that He set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth. In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance,having been destined according to the purpose of Him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In Him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance towards redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of His glory.

--Ephesians 1:3-14, NRSV (emphasis added)

Ohhh LORD, You're doing something in me. 

There's a big long story that goes along with all that has the wheels in my mind turning, but I think there's just this one part that I need to share here. The rest is best saved for a solid conversation over a good cup of tea.

Being adopted, I feel I have been blessed with a fairly unique experience and understanding of being called a Child of God. When I was adopted twenty-three years ago, I became a part of this family called the Hetheringtons. I became a Hetherington. 

I am my parents' daughter. I am my brothers' sister. 

Where I came from doesn't define me. I am loved as a part of my family.

How much more so is this true with Christ? 

I have sinned, epically. I have failed, constantly. 

But that is not what defines me, I am a daughter of The King.

Did you get that , Katy? A DAUGHTER of the KING.

All He has is mine. 

And yet, I am stuck living as if I am nothing, no one. 

Lacking in knowledge, skill, faith, ability.

As if He isn't sufficient, that He isn't enough. 

But I'm taking a stand against the lies. 

The lie that I am not good enough but somehow have the ability to make myself better.

The lie that I have no purpose, no use for The Kingdom. 

The lie that my identity is found in anything or anyone but Christ alone.

And claiming the truth. 

That I am no longer defined by my past, my sin, but am made NEW in Christ. 

That I am a child of the King, I am loved as part of His family--the Church.

I am His. He is All.

surrender.

Ever had one of those days when the strings of conviction are tugging so intently on your heart you have no choice but dropping everything and saying,

"Yes, God."

Today was that day for me.

It started this morning.
Christian was going through the promise of Jesus, explaining that He was God's intention from the beginning. God didn't choose to send Jesus after His other "attempts" to cultivate a relationship with us were "thwarted". Jesus was not the back up plan. God doesn't have those. His plans are the ones that prevail. Christian challenged us to examine ourselves, to take an honest look at what plans we are pursing--Plans B, C, D or Plan A?

As I drove home, I heard God whispering,
"Which plan are you seeking? Whose is it?"


tug, tug. 

Then tonight, I went to hear my dear friend Alyssa share about selfless service. She talked about how sometimes the best way to serve selflessly is to take a step back rather than insisting to meet every need we see. That we don't pick and choose who and when to serve, but gladly serve whoever, whenever and wherever. And that even when it doesn't make sense, we must surrender our plans to Him.

As I listened to Lys speak of how God is moving and working in her life as she surrenders her life to Him, I heard that familiar whisper again,
"Do you trust me?"


Tug, Tug.

On the car ride home, I heard TobyMac's song Me Without You. It's pretty catchy, despite being quite far from the type of music I typically listen to, but the lyrics really pulled on my heart, the final pull that brought down the wall I've built around my plans, my heart.

I'd be packing my bags when I need to stay - because I'd really like to move to Portugal NOW.
I'd be chasing every breeze that blows my way -because I'm so eager to find a way to get there.
I'd be building my kingdom just to watch it fade away - and I wonder why all my plans fail.


TUG, TUG.

I think God's leading me to read through the book of Jonah this month. I feel a bit like Jonah. God's given me a a gift, the heart for a country, but I'm insisting on using it on my own terms. I don't want to have to get swallowed by a fish to figure out that God's plan is going to prevail no matter what tricks I think I have up my sleeve.


I'm realizing that although it was most definitely God who has given me the gift of loving the people of Portugal, everything I've been doing--or trying to do--has been of my own ambition. I have created nice, neat one, two and five-year plans. I claim to be willing to be okay with "however God moves" but in my heart and mind, I've already decided the basic framework of  how and when I will serve while only saving the "nitty gritties" for God.

So today, God clearly said, No.
I don't know if this means I will never go to Portugal and live as I imagine and long to but rather learn how to better serve and love them from here. Just typing that out has me struggling to see my screen through the tears.

It's terrifying.

If I'm not leaving for Portugal in the next few years, then what am I doing!?
Why am I working at a job that has nothing to do with my major if not to pay off my loans and leave?
And WHAT do I do with the daily ache to live and serve and be in Portugal?

I. Don't. Know.

But if I'm honest, I do know that all of those questions can be summed up with one confession.

God, I'm terrified of what You will say when I lay down my plans and ideas and say yes to You.


But following God is not about the easiest, safest choice. It's about saying YES to Him.

So here's to a month of reading, listening and surrendering to the One whose plans never fail.

fathers.

When I looked up the word "father" in my Apple Dictionary, the first thing I saw was this:

   

father |ˈfäT͟Hər|

noun

1 a man in relation to his natural child or children.

That really doesn't cut it for me.
See, there is a man who fits this description for me. I've never met him. I have about three full sentences to tell me about him. He really didn't want anything to do with me...

"knowing she was pregnant, he tried to avoid his responsibilities for the child, and quitted the coffee house [where my mother met and fell in love with him]."


There is another man who doesn't fit that description, but has been a provider, protector, leader, teacher and friend...my dad. As I mentioned when I bragged about my momma, I really am blessed to have hand-picked parents. :)

I guess you could say I'm a bit of a daddy's girl.Not because I've got him wrapped around my finger, but because we've always had a special bond, me and my dad.

He was the one who read  a chapter of Sideways Stories from Wayside School(and a slew of other books, I'm sure)  to me before bed. The one who always had Juicefuls(anyone else remember these?) in the driver's side door. The one who took me to The Coffee Shop to get a hot chocolate topped with a tower whipped cream. The one took me to the Six Flags water park and skipped all of the big slides because I was too scared to go on them. The  who I called when I totaled my car the second day of college. The one who cuts out the his favorite Pearls Before Swine funnies for me.

He works so hard, often out of town because that's where the work is, but his only complaint is that he's far from us. He's really the only person I know who could be "stuck" in Hawaii for two months and hate it. :)

But I know that the reason my dad is so great is because he loves our Father. The One who created both of us. Our Savior who loved us both first.

I know Father's day may have been difficult for many people because the man they know as father is nothing more than a "man in relation to his natural child". If that's who I was supposed to celebrate on Sunday, I would have probably wanted to skip it too. But praise God that He is the  Father who loves us best. 

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are." -1 John 3:1a (ESV)

sempre em frente.

I was inspired today.

This afternoon I had a chance to share tea and conversation with my dear friend Alyssa. I feel we've been so blessed to share similar "heart-stirrings" for people and places that are so far from  those that we grew up calling "home"--Espaço in Massamá for me and The Imara Health Clinic in Kenya for her. After five years of living in different cities/states/countries, it has been/is truly a blessing to have such a genuine friendship.

As we spent the afternoon catching up, sharing both joys and challenges we've encountered, I realized something really important...


It may not be easy to carry out the call that God's put on our lives, in fact it has potential to be downright difficult. I know I may come across seemingly impossible obstacles and will not get to take the "easy way out". I am not under the impression that the grass in Portugal will be greener and life will be without oppression or hardship, I know life there will come with its own challenges.

But, regardless of what obstacles I'm facing now or which ones are still yet to come, I'm called to love God and love others and for me,  the Portuguese are a specific people God's placed on my heart to love.

I don't know why and I can't explain it, all I know is that after five years of daily thinking and praying for them and almost weekly weeping in homesickness, I can't deny that God's going to bring me back there. And because of that, I should not, could not, would not give up pursuing God's plans. (Sorry for the Dr.Suess-esque phrasing)

When you're giving or getting directions in Portugese, you say, "sempre em frente" to communicate that one should go straight. If you break apart this phrase it reads, "always in front". I love this. In order to stay straight on the path God's calling us to, we have to keep Him in front of us always---our number one priority.

So I head to bed in peace tonight as I cling to the hope that although I face obstacles, He has overcome!

a thousand words:part three.

when all that's within me feels dry.

You are still God.

a thousand words:part two.

I am trying to understand, how to walk this weary land.

whatever's in front of me help me to sing hallelujah. 

a thousand words:part one.

*I know I intended this blog to be a place of reflection through written word as I wrestle with and learn what living missionally looks like, but lately God's been drawing me back to reflect, cry out and worship with art. (No pun intended...really, I don't draw, I paint). So,with paint splattered arms and thristy heart...here is part one of a few days of a few thousand words.

when my my world is shaking, heaven stands.

when my heart is breaking, I never leave your hand.

Inspired by:

"Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" 

and

blank page.

I've decided it's better to wait until I have something to say than write simply to write.

I wrote that two days ago, hoping I would have find some sort of inspiration or have a grand epiphany...

nothing.

So, I reluctantly stuck to the original statement, and didn't write. I thought about not writing anything at all this week, but the thought of breaking the weekly post was so irritating.

I've got to find a balance between inspiration and discipline. 


And that's where I am right now. Trying to figure out how to be directed,intentional and genuine in the way I pursue loving God and loving others.

So far I've  found/am finding:

1. I need to keep working on being open and honest with the people in my life, specifically with those in my daily life.

2. I have to CHOOSE to TAKE the time to build relationships, with God and with others. I'm seeing that for me it's not about "making" the time, the time is there...to paint with Jesus, to pray for people when I say I will,to meet a friend for coffee, etc., etc., etc.

3. I cannot do either. I just can't. I am not wise or honest or brave or disciplined enough to figure this out on my own. God didn't intend for me to be, not without Him. So really this is about me learning to lay down my pride.


So there it is. Here is where I am. I'm still not entirely sure if this ended up being a blog post written for the sake of having a blog post for the week...




p.s. here's something I started to paint this week. You know, when I made the time...

heart check.

I kind of like writing on Sundays. Not only because it gives me a chance to reflect back on the week I just finished(I usually see my weeks as being Monday to Sunday) but because often I figure out(aka God shows me) what I should share after listening to the sermon at church.

Anyway, today it came to me when I heard Brad talk about how our behavior is an outward indicator of our inner condition, of our heart--what we believe and what we love. I saw how much of what's gone on in the past couple of weeks was the beginning of a major heart check for me.

It's getting late and I'm not sure that I'm ready to spill all the messy details of what that's looked like so far, but here's what I can say:

(Also from the sermon today) I'm seeing how individualism is an idol in my life.  Although I can talk a pretty convincing talk about the joy and benefit and calling to live in community and do life with others, if I'm honest, my heart isn't quite there and my actions prove it. Yes, I've joined a life group of peers and am leading a life group of some awesome Kindergarteners, but I know that I'm holding back and keeping a lot of my life to myself. My compulsive Darkside shows itself as I carefully decide what parts of my life are open and which doors must remain shut, locked and expertly wallpapered over. It's going to take some time for me to open those doors, but I think I can at least start on peeling off the wallpaper and acknowledge that they're there. (sorry for this analogy, but my dad is a wallcovering specialist)

Other than that, all I know is that my heart is not too healthy right now. I know I'm always going to need some kind of work and that this time of cleaning, discovering, refining and repairing has no real end. I know it's going to be painful and humbling, but I trust that it's necessary and hope for a day that I  might truly be able to understand that.

So here's to walking my talk. Letting you in to hold me to it.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence,
and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and sustain in me a willing spirit.

-Psalm 51:10-12

momma.

second Sunday of May. Momma, this one's for you.

Being adopted, I feel like I get to say that my mom was hand-picked just for me. (Well, I suppose it was more like me being picked by my parents...anyway...) I've often been asked how I feel about being adopted, and in a word: blessed.

I feel incredibly blessed to be the daughter of such a wonderful woman. She's hard-working, generous, compassionate, selfless--a genuine example of a woman striving after God's heart. But more than that, I feel blessed to have a slightly different understanding of what it means to be adopted into the family of Christ, to become a child of God.

How so, you ask?

Here's my thoughts:
My adoption was never a secret. For my family, adoption was not something to be ashamed of, quite the opposite! My mom always made a conscious effort to make me aware of and cultivate an appreciation for my Korean heritage. That being said, I often forget that I don't look like the rest of my family. My momma, is my momma.

I have had the opportunity to experience what it's like to be taken in and loved as part of a family that wasn't initially my own.

I don't say all this to disown or forget about my mother who went to great risks to keep and grow and bear me, for her sacrifice I am forever grateful. Actually, I am blessed to have two mothers to remember and thank and be grateful for. So...

To my Korean mother,
Thank you for choosing to give me life. For deciding that my life and all that it would become was worth the risk. Thank you for selflessly giving me a chance to be loved and cared for, I most definitely am. Most of all, thank you for showing me selfless love from the start.
사랑해 (I love you)
리 경 림 (Lee Kyung Rim)

To my Momma,
Thank you for choosing me. For loving me as your own. As a poem or book or card you've shared with me said, I "didn't grow in your belly, but I grew in your heart." Thank you for giggles and Katy days and trying new food and traveling to visit me and prayers. Most of all, thank you for your genuine example of unconditional love.
Love,
Kate

visiting me in Portugal 2007

Happy Mother's Day!

seasons.

Graduation was on Saturday.

Not for me, but for the rest of my class. We're done with undergrad. We're moving on.

The season is changing.

I've really struggled with the whole "seasons" thing. Change can be pretty difficult on its on, whether it's changing schools, jobs or place of residence. But mostly I've dreaded friendship seasons. I've heard it over and over that "Some people are only in  your life for a season, Katy."

I HATED that. 

Why couldn't they stay around? Was it something I did? How do I not do that or why did I keep doing that? 

I've talked to many and prayed a lot about having peace with this, and it's a work in progress.

I had a bit of a breakthrough yesterday, though. A breakthrough after a bit of a breakdown.

Breakdown: My roommate who became an amazing friend moved home to Southern California. It's been an enormous blessing to have her in my life for the past four years, and I'm confident we're "stuck" with each other, but it's still hard to see the seasons change from living in the same room to living on the same campus to living in the same town to just living in the same state. 

Breakthrough: Brad spoke on 1 Corinthians 9:1-19 and Paul's teachings on choosing Love over our rights and freedoms. It was the perfect message for me to hear on many levels, but a breakthrough came when I realized that God's calling of my heart to Portugal means I'll have to sacrifice a lot. A main focus of the passage was on Paul's defense and later refusal of his right to earn money for his ministry. (v. 14-18) Now, I came to accept the fact long ago that I wouldn't ever make a lot of money  doing what God was calling me to do. That I have no problem with. It wasn't money I'd argue with God about.

It's relationships.

Not even romantic ones, although there's been arguments and someday they'll be again over those too. But friendships. Deep, genuine, intimate friendships. 

It's been a common lament of mine that the friends I feel closest to and safest with live the farthest away from me. Whether it's another city or another state, there's at least four hours between us. 

In my selfish, narrow-sighted anger, I'd cry out: "Why are all of the people who "get" me and love me so far away?" What's wrong with me? Why doesn't anyone stay around?"

And then yesterday, the breakthrough...

God's placed those people in my life in different places so that I can learn how to do daily life without them and with Him. He's showing me that I can maintain friendships, deep, rich, intimate friendships, with people who live far from me. Whether we have eight hours of a time difference or driving separating us, it's totally doable. 

So, if you're changing seasons, remember He's got reason. ;)

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: 

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up; 

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 

a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 

a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to throw away; 

a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

- Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 

eavesdropping

I've been really into stories lately. Life stories. You can kind of see it in the past couple weeks' blog posts.

I've been asked to share a story of my own for the Friends of Portugal blog.
(For those of you who don't know what that is or are wondering what me moving back to Portugal might look like check it out here.)

Anyway, I've been really excited to be apart of what FOP is doing and to be able to be a part of it all, but I was really struggling to give my story words.  And then, it just kind of happened. God's timing is impecable.Today, when PJ was speaking, I heard these words and knew how to tell my story...

"It's not what you know, but who you love."


When I was eighteen, a month after I graduated from high school, I and a team of three other ladies moved to Massamá, Portugal to work with the Espaço Vida Nova Church there. We were there ten months, living, learning and serving. I think I must have had some idea when I left my California hometown that this "trip" was something special, but in a lot of ways I feel that I am still discovering just how instrumental those ten months of my life were.

During our time there, I spent a lot of time hanging out with kids. I came with several years of experience working with kids in a variety of settings, so it was just a natural fit. There were three kids in particular that I spent time with: Joe, Mary and Harvey*. These were my three faithful attendees of any and everything that I did at Espaço. Sunday school, Saturday kids' club, changing the window display, sweeping the floor, you name it. If we were there, they were there.

When I work with kids, I sometimes wonder how much they're really taking in.  Are they really listening to this story or are they just interested in the awesome flannelgraph? Are they memorizing a Bible verse or just coloring a photocopied page? Are they learning what it means to live and love as a community or just concerned with winning the wacky relay race? (Present day me would like to just answer "Yes!" to all of the questions above by the way...) In all honesty, I felt this way, this doubt and uncertainty, for a large portion of my time in Massamá.

Did it matter? Was anything I was doing going to make a difference? Would these kids even consider anything I said in my broken, limited Portugese to be true?

Then, one Sunday near the end of our time there, all of those doubts and worries were silenced by an overheard conversation.

That Sunday, Marjorie taught her class (really just the table of the older kids that was next to mine of the younger) about Heaven. They talked about what it was like and that it was where Jesus was. After the service, while I was cleaning up, I saw that Marjorie was talking with Harvey. I continued to pick up the scraps of paper and stray crayons from my lesson while I watched them pray together. After they prayed Marjorie asked Harvey,

"So, do you know where Jesus is now?" 

He looked at her with this incredulous look expressing a sort of "DUH!" as he replied,  

"We just talked about that today, He lives in Heaven, remember?" 

Marjorie waited for a moment, and then I saw it. His little face lit up and a giant smile spread across his face and he pointed to his heart,  

"HERE! He is lives here now too!"

And that's when I knew. I was brought to Portugal not solely to plan lessons and relay races and create window displays, but to spend ten months with these three kids, to overhear that conversation and to see that expression of pure, genuine joy.

As I said before, I don't think I fully knew what ten months in Portugal would mean for me when I left, and I'm still finding ways that it has impacted my life that I didn't see before. But without a doubt, I came to Portugal and fell in love. I fell in love with a culture that values family and traditions and history. I fell lin love with the beautiful parks and old castles and cafes at every corner. And I fell in love with the people who live there. I may not know everything about Portugal, I'm still learning and have much more to learn, but I love Portugal. I think that's a good place to start.

*Names have been changed

behind the music.

 Apparently being out of town on a Sunday means blogging get pushed back to the middle of the week...

"Where words fail, music speaks." - H.C. Andersen

There's just something about words that are put to music that speak so much deeper into my soul than words by themselves.

I went to a concert on Sunday. That's not really big news, as most who know me know.
It was a Bon Iver concert. That IS big news. He's been on my list for a while now.

It was...
beautiful, visually (outside.Santa Barbara.stage design.lights.) and aurally, and cathartic.

I sat alone--well, alone while surrounded by strangers--and let the music and voice of Justin DeYarmond Edison Vernon (isn't that a fantastic name?) wash over me.

There's something about hearing a favorite song played live that makes me love it all the more.
Especially when it's prefaced with a bit of insight from the artist himself:

"Life is weird. *chuckles* Like how the hell'd we get here? But we're here. And it's weird. This is a song about that.  'Coz , sometimes it's unclear when shit's supposed to be good when it's bad."

Mister Vernon then proceded to play re: stacks, arguably my favorite song. Definitely in the top three.

What I'm trying to say is that as much as I love the song and find meaning in it for myself, it means so much more to Justin himself because he wrote it. It's his. His introduction was just a small glance into the story behind the words. [here's more on that song and others of his...]

That's what I love. That's what speaks to me in music. The story. The thoughts, emotions, joy, pain,  hurt and healing that prompt writing and are poured into the delivery.

Another example:
I have a friend who writes songs. He wrote one about one of the worst panic attack I had that he was present to help me through. The experience itself was awful. Terrifying. Dark.  Powerful.
The song that came out of it is simply perfect. It's an excellent song on its own, but for me, and my friend and maybe even for those who really saw where I was during the years I really struggled with depression and anxiety, it meant so much more.

I guess the point in writing all of this is to acknowledge:
1. We all have a story to tell
and
2. Words don't say everything, although they do say a lot

So...let's listen to each other this week. Let's take the time to find and listen to
the story behind the words

disney & roomies.

Well, I'm a couple of days late, but better late than never, right?
Tonight I just want to share how I got some perspective from a Disney movie and a former roomie.

Let's start with the Disney movie since that came first.

Pocahontas.


Hopefully you have seen this movie, or at least know the general plot line.
As I was watching the movie that I had enjoyed so much as a child, I realized how much I still really enjoy the movie. When I was younger it was the music, the characters and the fact that the bad guy isn't really too scary that drew me to the movie. This weekend it was the story.
One of the song's lyrics really stood out to me. I couldn't seem to get them out of my head.

You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew

I heard those lyrics and was reminded of how often we (okay, I) can be so quick to think our way, of thinking, of speaking, of living, is the best way. The only way.
How ignorant. How prideful.

The (former) roomie.
I spent the majority of the weekend with a friend/former roomie and it was simply excellent.
(for the record, I had two awesome roomies in college)

Aside from just spending some much needed (and missed) quality time together over the past couple of days, I was really inspired by her, simply being herself.
A specific instance of this genuine inspiration happened during our day in SLO on Sunday.
I took her to one of my favorite local cafes for breakfast as soon as we got into town. We enjoyed a delicious (and pretty healthy) light breakfast and then took some time to just relax and rest. (We left Fresno just before 5am, so we were pretty tired already)

While we were sitting on the comfy, worn in couch, an older gentleman struck up a conversation with us. I immediately felt awkward and let my roommate do most of the talking. During the time he was telling us about some of his experiences as movie and tv show extra, I continued to feel painfully awkward as I listened and tried to keep a polite smile on my face while nodding from time to time.  I kept thinking of ways to politely leave without being too obvious about how uncomfortable I was.

We eventually left and the day went on. we stuck gum on Bubblegum Alley, drank chocolate milk,  ate a big lunch, visited a friend, ate otter pops, watched a movie, toured Cal Poly, took a nap, ate fro yo for dinner and finally drove home.

But throughout the day and during the long, late drive home, I kept thinking about the man at the cafe. As I said, he didn't give the most reliable stories, but he did have a story. No, I did not know him. Yes, some of his stories sounded more like fiction than fact. But, so what?

So. What.

I am selfish. and sheltered. and scared. That's what.

I talk a big talk about wanting to live missonally, but I keep finding myself shying away from it being reality.  I talk about being frustrated with people who can't seem to see past the Fresno (and/or FPU) bubble, yet most nights I spend at home. In Clovis. Alone with a book.

I know being honest about all of this doesn't solve this problem, I still have to take some action.
But at least now you know.
So keep me in check, kay?

Let's take some steps, together, out of our comfy spots this week!

less.

When I sat down to write tonight, I had lots of things  I thought I wanted to write about.
But every time I'd write out a paragraph or so, I'd end up "⌘ + A" and "delete" to start over. 

So, seven attempts and and ninety minutes later, I am here.
Empty page and bedtime closing in.

Maybe it's for the best. Maybe tonight, less is best.

I woke up with one thought today. It's what P.J. spoke about this morning at the eleven.  And what we sang about before leaving. It's what we remember, and never forget, today. 

the greatest day in history.

Death is beaten. We are free. Jesus is alive.

Did we get that? 
Jesus is alive!

What a glorious truth! Yet I found myself dwelling on other things today. 

friendslonelinessfutureheartachefamilynostalgiajealousytripsmusicpastrestlessness


STOP.




I know I've talked about listening for God's still, small voice. It seems I haven't quite gotten the hang of putting it into practice. There's so much more that could be said. But I really feel like not much more needs to be said. So this is where I end.

greatest day in history
death is beaten, You have rescued me
sing it out, Jesus is alive


the empty cross, the empty grave
life eternal, You have won the day
shout it out, Jesus is alive
He's alive


oh, happy day, happy day
You washed my sin  away
oh, happy day, happy day
i'll never be the same
forever i am changed

graça.

I've had a heavy heart today. All weekend really. I've had some excellent, tough, encouraging and emotional conversations in the past few days. I feel like there is so much I want/need to say, but I'm not really sure how to say it. I usually do better in writing than in person, so here's my attempt:

I'm sorry.
I've remembered, reflected and realized how awful I was to those who meant (and mean) so much to me. I was needy, draining and demanding. I was selfish, inconsiderate and hurtful. I think I had a small idea of what I was doing to my friends who loved me so well, but I am now starting to realize how deeply I hurt them. Even now, I am sure I don't know the whole of the pain, grief, despair, worry and hopelessness I brought to their lives. For this, all I can think to say is, I'm sorry.

Thank  you.
Despite all the things I did, the way I acted and the things I  said, you still loved me. You walked alongside when you could. You watched and prayed fervently when you couldn't. You cared about me, and you didn't let me forget it. You helped me to remember that it mattered that I was here. For this, I hope you know I am forever grateful and I want to say, Thank you.

Ultimately I want to say,
Praise the LORD.
I know that it is because He loved us first, that I was (and am) loved so  by the people in my life. It is encouraging and extremely overwhelming to know that I have people in my life that demonstrate genuinely love as they know and experience from Love. I am so unworthy, but yet I am loved so deeply. And as amazing as the people in my life are, it's not them. It's God. I am overwhelmed as I think of all the love and friendship and community that I have experienced and filled with joyful encouragement

THIS IS THE CHURCH.
Loving God, loving others. What more is there?


I apologize if this is kind of a downer post. It's not meant to be. In fact, I hope for the exact opposite! I have undoubtedly been humbled and overwhelmed by grace this weekend, but how sweet it is.

Words cannot express how thankful I am that He and you never let go. 

on the willows.

By the rivers of Babylon—
   there we sat down and there we wept
   when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
   we hung up our harps.
For there our captors
   asked us for songs,
and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying,
   ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ 

How could we sing the Lord’s song
   in a foreign land? 

--Psalm 137:1-4

So FPU Theater's Spring Mainstage this year is Godspell and I highly recommend going to see it if you are in Fresno and haven't yet.  The cast (which includes two of my close friends) is crazy talented and it's really a fun/exciting/emotional/thought-provoking show. Seriously go.
Okay, I'm done plugging.

Sort of.

I went on opening and again this afternoon with my momma. Both performances were excellent and both times I was in tears at one of the final scenes and songs, "On The Willows."(Note: The link is the Broadway cast. You really need to hear the FPU cast sing it. Do it.)

SPOILER ALERT. (you've been warned)

In the scene, Jesus is saying goodbye to each of the disciples before he is betrayed by Judas and crucified. Each disciple has their own unique relationship with Jesus and that is reflected in their goodbyes. I think it's seeing the personal, intimate interactions that brings the tears for me. 

I also know that the lyrics of the song really laid heavy on my heart during and after the show. Nerd me knows that they are from Psalm 137 (thanks BLIT 321). The psalmist wrote these verses in reference to the Jews' time of being held captive, a time when they were abused and insulted, far from the Temple and  everything they knew.  I don't want to suggest that I have experienced anything so intense. But I hope it's not offensive to suggest that in a very small way I can imagine the hopelessness, the disheartenment, the pain that comes when we lose sight of God in our situation. How could we possibly sing the songs that we sing out of the overflow of joyful worship from our hearts when we're in a place, literally or figuratively, that is so cruel and foreign?

Sometimes it seems impossible to praise God in the midst of our situation, when we really feel how far away we are from Him here in this broken and foreign world. But we were never promised it would be an easy, or even enjoyable journey with Christ. In fact, if we're really living the way we're called to, it's quite costly. We're called to  deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Him. I am pretty sure following Him is not limited to the glamorous, exciting, and safe places.

Scary? Try, terrifying.
Difficult? Extremely.
Necessary? Absolutely.

Like Paul says, "Not thatI have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me His own."  (Philippians 3:12). But as important as it is to remember this is what we're called to do, we should also remember:

we're in this together. 

maybe it's okay.

I LOVE this weather.
If you remember, a few weeks back I talked about the significance of rain in my life. So, yes it's been chilly, yes it's not fun to drive in, but man, I love this weather.

Something I did this weekend, besides enjoy the rain with a few good books and cups of lavender cream earl grey, was clean. My room had become a disaster in the past couple of weeks with piles of dirty clothes, (neater) piles of clothes to be put away, shoes that had been quickly and careless abandoned after a long day at work, books from the library, cards from friends, buttons and thread. The little things of daily life that don't seem to warrant much time or thought until they all pile up into one giant mess.

So, after about a week and a half of creatively finding a path from my door to my bed, I set out to actually get things in some sort of order.

By set out, I mean I tried. By tried I mean I started. 

I mentioned last week that I get distracted easily and I know that played a part, for sure. But when I felt the need to re-read the card that my friend had sent me two weeks ago or look through the photos scattered on my endtable, something else came to mind that I remembered from my time meeting with an MFT at Link Care.
When I shared that it sometimes can take me a few hours to tidy up a room that my mom always insisted should only take an hour at most because I stopped to look through things, or was reminded of a late night run in the rain as I folded a mud-stained t-shirt, he said three words that challenged me to re-think how I view myself.

"Maybe that's okay."

So deep and profound, I know. But really, as much as I love my momma and know that she simply wants to see that my room isn't a pigsty, maybe it's okay that it takes me longer to get my room in some sort of order. Maybe it's okay that I clean my room in a different way other people do.

Maybe it's okay that I prefer rain over a sunny day with a high of 75.
Maybe it's okay that I am not called to work with high schoolers.

Maybe it's okay that I don't like the phrase "do missions".

Maybe it's okay that I'm not sure how I'm going to get back home to Portugal. (yet)

This is a bit of a scattered post. I guess the three things I wanted to communicate:

1. The rain always inspires me. To think. To rest. To be drenched in His love.

2. The best way, I've found, to tackle a big mess (literally and figuratively) is one piece at a time. (p.s. this might will take a while...which leads me to the last point...)

3. Maybe it's okay.

Maybe I'm just totally off my rocker. I guess the only way we'll find out is by asking...

Let's come back next week and compare notes? :)

distracted.

I started this post about two and a half hours ago. (it's currently 10:27 PM)
I knew I wanted to write something about distractions and tangents and details.
And then I got distracted. 

text message.facebook notifcation.dinner.text message.tweet.dessert.look up song lyric stuck in head.clean up dishes.lingo.read an article.close the garage.

you get the picture. 

Now it's getting late and I'm still exhausted from this weekend, but I'm determined to write something each Sunday. So, here's what I've got:

I was listening to Jason Mraz's Details in the Fabric and thinking about how easy it is for me to get caught up in the details of life. Let me rephrase that, it's so easy for me to worry about the details of life.  I have found that the details shouldn't be overlooked, but that doesn't mean I can/should obsess over them. I'm learning (and by learning, I mean I'm definitely still in the process of learning) the best way to handle the details is one. at. a. time. Otherwise, I find I'm quickly overwhelmed and don't feel like I want anything to do with any of them. 

all the details in the fabric are the things that make you panic

I am learning that when I slow down, I can hear that still small voice amidst the chaos and sort through the details.

So why should I worry, why should I freak out? God knows what I need.

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. -Philippians 4:6-8

His Love is Strong.

investment.

I've been thinking about stuff lately.
I don't mean that ambiguously, I mean I've been thinking about literal stuff. Specifically MY stuff.

I've been getting in these moods lately where I walk into my closet (if you've ever seen my closet, you know I mean literally walk in, maybe even lay out and take a nap) and start yanking clothes off hangers and putting them in hand-me-down and Goodwill piles. These often seem to come after instances like these...

About a month ago a good friend of mine moved from California to Mississippi. Let me clarify, about a month ago a good friend of mine DROVE from California to Mississippi. I had a chance to hang out with her a few days before she left and something she told me has been floating in my mind ever since.

"I'm driving around with my whole life in my car. My whole life fits in my car."

Or something along those lines. I guess I shouldn't put quotations around an approximation...oh well. The point is, I can't say that. I am no where near being able to say that.

And this morning I drove by a man on his bicycle towing a trailer carrying a cardboard box and a couple of black garbage bags and thought to myself, "That's his whole life, going with him wherever he goes."


Also, I discovered this blog today which reminded me of this book, both fueling the desire to get rid of my stuff.


I think part of my angst comes from the thought of moving home to Portugal in the near-ish future. I know near-ish is more like a few years, but college was a "few" years and that flew by.

When I think about moving back, I think about what I'd take with me. The last time I lived there I packed everything into two suitcases. That was for ten months. (I took a backpack and carry-on when I visited for a month) This next move will be for at least three years. Would it be possible to pack my whole life into two suitcases again? It's not like Portugal doesn't have HUGE malls, grocery stores, feiras (markets), etc. where I can buy lots more things. Will I leave things here in my room? Will I ever be moving back here to Chickadee Lane once I leave?

These questions are somewhat frequent, but the question that most often comes to mind is much more difficult to wrestle with.

"How much of myself do I invest here? Now?"
How much time? Should I start working with this ministry if I already know I'm not in it for the long haul?
 How much money? Should I save  up for a more reliable car?
How much of my heart? What happens if I meet someone (you know, that kind of someone)? Should I forget about them if they don't want to move to Portugal too? (Should I even really be worrying about this one at all? Answer to that one: No.)
How much of my interest? Can I love this time and place wholly and fully without losing the love of Portugal? How do I do that?

I have answers to some of those subquestions, most of them I don't. I've been listening to lots of Mumford lately, and this is the thought I'm left with (and the thought I'll leave you with):

"where you invest your love, you invest your life."

q & a.

Anyone who has known me for a while, will tell you...I'm a worrier.
I used to have this joke(?) that one of my best talents was worrying. Sadly,  it's kind of true. I'm really good at finding something to worry about.

But you know what is also true? God knows that I'm a worrier. He knows I am a planner. He knows what I need to hear, when I need to hear it.

This idea, that God knows me and knows what I need is where the title of this blog comes from:

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will He clothe you--you of little  faith!
- Luke 12:24-28

Well, I just wanted to share some of the times that God has silenced my worry with His faithfulness. Even when I forget and get caught up in worry again, He patiently, lovingly reminds me of how He loves in His still small voice...

God, I graduated from high school, what am I supposed to do??

come to Portugal, meet these people, open your mind to a new way of life.

God, I am back in California, I'd rather be in Portugal. What am I supposed to do??

come to Fresno Pacific, meet these people,  open your mind to a new way of life. 

God, I have to pick a major. What am I supposed to do??

come to MBMSI, meet these people, open your mind to a new way of life. (it's okay that people don't think it's a practical major)

God, I am Biblical Studies major, I don't want to be a pastor. Do I have to go to seminary? . What am I supposed to do??

visit some seminaries, meet these people, open your mind to a new way of life. (it's okay not to go to seminary)

God, I still think about Portugal a lot. I need closure. What am I supposed to do??

come to portugal with this ticket that you can afford, reconnect with these people, open your mind to a new way of life. (you'll be coming back)

God, I know You're continually keeping Portugal on my heart for a reason but I have all of this student loan debt. What am I supposed to do??take this full time job.* and this check for half of your loans. learn skills to be used in the role I'm preparing you for in Portugal. 

*By the way...this is a really awesome story that is best, in my opinion, told in person. You should ask me about it sometime.

Sometimes it's difficult to hear the whisper of His voice among the noise of world and the voices of others. A whispered voice is best heard when you're close, When you're intimate.

Let's take some time to draw near to God this week. Just see what happens. :)