Hi, I’m Katy. My fingers are tiptoeing back into the blogging world after a three-year haitus. Because despite others’ criticism and disappointment, despite my own fear and timidity, despite my perfectionism, there are words in these fingers. They won’t stop typing, so I say…let them type!
Now, if you have a minute, let’s sit down and really get to know eachother…
So nice to meet you! I imagine we’ve just met in real life. I’d seem quiet at first, but especially if you were new, I’d make sure to say hi and ask you about yourself. I’d enjoy asking all about who you are and where you’re from. I might share that I’m a Ph.D. student in biology, I’m from a suburb of a midwestern city, or that I love taking road trips, or I enjoy long, slow running. I’d wink as I revealed that I grew up in a house teeming with sisters reminiscent of Little Women or Pride and Prejudice. After our first meeting, I’d try valiantly to remember your name and these things I’d learned about you, and I might write them down but I’d be likely to lose the piece of paper.
If we spent more time together, I’d begin to warm up to you and I’d talk more openly, but I’d still be silent as a mouse in a group.
You would learn that I enjoy far too many things to make them all hobbies – gardening, painting, photography, playing and composing at the piano, writing journals and stories and poems, reading biographies, fixing things around the house, Bible study, cooking, everything homemade and natural and organic. And that I often flit around doing different things and have trouble completing tasks.
I would confess that I sometimes ignore the news and pop culture, I don’t make time to watch movies, that I have eclectic taste in music, and I like earthy colors.
You’d figure out quickly that I value efficiency and simplicity and quiet, and I am easily overwhelmed by clutter, complexity and noise. That I love people but am quickly exhausted by interpersonal interactions. It would become apparent that I overanalyze every event and thought and relationship. That I have an unquenchable and sometimes unhealthy desire to understand everything. And that after arriving at much-thought-out conclusions, I can be stubborn in my perceived correct-ness.
One day you’d see me light up as I shared that my daily work and the degree I’m working toward are far more than an occupation but are a passion and hunger for God’s revelation of himself through nature, and an interlocking of my abilities and intellect with work in a way that only God could engineer. That I consider my interest and ability for this particular work a blessing that allows me to be an image-bearer of Christ in a place where not every Christian can or wants to go. And I’d admit that while I believe that wholeheartedly, I often feel daunted by the task and doubt the brightness of my shy light amid such darkness.
As we came to know and trust each other more, you’d learn that my relationship with my Heavenly Father and Jesus and the Holy Spirit is my greatest joy and the single most important and stable thing in my life. That his presence in my life has accompanied me through the dark canyons as well as across the most majestic mountaintops. If I were especially brave and you were especially gracious, I’d tell you a bit about some of those canyons and mountaintops.
I might share how I connect deeply with God through writing and journaling, but that when my mind needs to process and my heart is full, I find He is closest in the covering of the woods. I might divulge that I go on long, slow walks with my Father there, and He comforts and encourages my soul. And that he speaks to me through the imagery of nature, and my best and clearest ideas of who I am and where I am going come from listening to him in these tender hours. There would be things too precious to share, and so I’d smile and stammer something about “God is SO good and he loves us SO much.”
So whew. Thanks for getting to know me…through many months’ worth of friendship distilled into a few paragraphs. I hope you’ll continue to get to know me and let me get to know you, as I write about my rather ordinary life with my rather extraordinary Father.