Katie Ganshert, Author at Katie Ganshert

What’s Your “This”?

Posted on June 17, 2013June 17, 2013 by Katie Ganshert

Do you believe in God’s goodness?

It’s a question I’ve had to ask myself lately.

In my head, yes. Of course I believe God is good.

But sometimes my heart isn’t as readily agreeable as my head.

I think sometimes, I fall into the trap of gauging God’s goodness based on the circumstances of the moment.

He heals a sick loved one.

He restores a marriage.

He blesses someone with a child.

He gives us the dream we’ve been chasing.

And God. Is. Good!

But what about when the loved one dies or the marriage ends or the child doesn’t come or we never catch the dream?

Do we still declare Him good then?

What happens when that thing we’ve been praying and praying and praying for with the kind of prayers that give us callused knees and hoarse voices and dried-up tear ducts…what happens when God says no to that prayer?

I can hear Him whisper “Will you believe that I am good even if I don’t give you this?”

Whatever this is, this thing we grasp to our chest with knuckles as white as bone.

It’s a scary thought, isn’t it?

Ready for a truth moment–one that might wallop you as much as it’s been walloping me?

Perhaps the level of fear this particular question induces says much about the heart of our worship.

Are we worshiping God?

Or are we worshiping what God might give us?

It’s like that book by Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

All the whos in Whoville are Christmas-crazy.

They love the presents and the food and the decorations and the goodies.

But then the Grinch steal everything.

And what happens?

The Whos join hands and lift their voices and celebrate anyway.

Because they know that Christmas itself is worth celebrating.

It’s inherently good, even without all the trappings.

Christmas itself brings joy. The rest is all extra.

So what about us….do we have that same understanding of God?

Can we open our fist and hold up our this, knowing He’s good if He hands it back and He’s good if He doesn’t?

Frightening, yes.

Freeing, absolutely.

Let’s Talk: What is your this? Has it become more important than God in your life?

Friday Favorite: Rubber Legs

Posted on June 14, 2013June 14, 2013 by Katie Ganshert

I went running for the first time in two years this week……TWICE!

Sure, my legs were sore as all get out the next day.

Sure, I huffed and puffed like a train engine.

But it sure felt good to get the heart pumping!

And get this. The first day, as I’m chugging along, I pass this older gentleman who smiles at me and says, “Good job!”

I love the way God gives us those little winks of encouragement.

Let’s Talk: Working out….love it or hate it?

Congo

Posted on June 10, 2013June 5, 2013 by Katie Ganshert

Will you be posting about your trip to Congo?

Several people asked this question when I returned.

Only I didn’t know how to answer.

I thought I would write. I thought I would fill a whole journal with words upon words after returning. Writing is how I process, after all.

But every time I sat down and picked up a pen, I would stare awhile at the blank page.

Then I would set the pen down and close the empty journal and do something, anything else.

Because how does one put into words all that is Congo?

A place wholly broken and wholly beautiful.

Where corruption and redemption are so inextricably entwined, telling them apart is a complicated, messy business.

Where an abundance of the world’s coveted resources exists right alongside a poverty so abject it could rattle a person’s soul.

Where men with crippled legs sit outside a Fondu restaurant serving $40 meals, beating on drums for money.

Congo is a walking contradiction.

A lively one, too.

With its cacophony of sounds and its mishmash of color.

Beeping horns.

Crying babies.

Mmmbote Mundeli! and Bonjour!

Children’s giggles and that adorable way they say madam, like ma-DEM. Oh, I could melt.

The lush vegetation.

The bright oranges and yellows, purples and blues of fabric that women stitch into dresses and shirts.

The darkness of skin and the whiteness of smiles.

Children in uniforms walking to and from school and children without uniforms, sometimes without any pants at all, walking the streets, tapping on car windows, begging for money because they have nowhere to go and nothing to eat.

Rains that flash and flood all within the time it takes Shakira to sing Waka Waka.

A sun that rises and sets at six o’clock, on the dime, every single day.

Heat and dust and humidity and bugs.

Women and men carrying eggs and water and towers of whatever else atop their heads.

Orphanages overflowing with bald, big-bellied children, their lips quick to smile, but their eyes?

They tell a different story.

One of sadness and injustice and a whole world of heartache.

Little girls walking around with even smaller children strapped to their backs.

Because while childhood is almost a given here in America, in Congo it is a precious, rare commodity.

I visited a country saturated with resiliency, love, passion.

It’s a country that has not received a fair shake, not then and not now, but marches on because what else is there to do but keep going?

How does one write about a trip such as this?

There aren’t words to do it justice.

Let’s Talk: Have you ever gone on a life-changing trip or had your eyes opened to something they can never be closed to again?