Kate Miner

some thoughts.

2011-06-17T19:27:00.001-05:00

I was raised by a beautiful couple. They had been married for nearly five decades when my mom died.
Everything they had, is everything I want.
Unfortunately I didn’t realize this until mom was on her deathbed.

I am earnestly and eternally grateful for what seems to have been woven into the fabric that is me, by my parents.
I learned to harmonize standing close to my mom as she bellowed out the melody of each and every hymn – she had such a beautiful voice. Very tender and honest.
My dad remains, to this day, my hero. It was under his tutelage that I developed an unflappable work ethic.

Because of their commitment to The Church: It’s religion&community, I was left not having to ask one question about any of it.
I followed and followed and followed.
I dressed the right way, sang the right songs, memorized the right scriptures, threw down a full 10% in the offering plate and won my fair share of sword drills.
It was the perfect way to grow up.

And then I grew up.

I believe in Jesus the Christ, and know fully that if I follow his teachings life is better. It’s hard to argue with things like peace, patience, kindness and the like…
I believe in God.

With all of the tiniest, light filled, energetic and remarkable bits of me, I believe.

I have my own children now.
I watch them process things - topics ranging from divorce to Darfur.
They ask questions about timelines and science and mythology and evolution.

Ten years ago, if I had overheard people around me asking these questions I would have had 2 options: 1. Shun them. 2. Pray for them. But they would have never, ever, ever been my friends.

I didn’t need their stinking blasphemy in my periphery. I had God all sorted out.
I look back at the mental pictures of that day and see that God looked suspiciously like me.
Anne Lamott said it this way: You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.

The honest truth is that I can’t stomach my own hypocrisy. I’ll let science hurl me through space for a visit down-unda, I will sprint to science when my child has a suspicious lump in his bone. But I say ‘oh no you di’int’ when science offers up anything to do with all that I think I believe – as if!
I really see it as everyone’s fault (but mine), as the Christian community and the scientific community trend to three legged races for the prize in Arrogance and Smarmy.

HEAR ME HERE:
I LOVE THE CHURCH.
The beautiful Bride. Unblemished, perfection, so white your eyeballs burn.

But now:
If we take GOD, the Supreme Ultimate BEYOND THE UNITED STATES&EVEN PLANET EARTH GOD, and subjugate Him to OUR understanding, what we think we know, what we groan to understand and finally, our twisting of scripture to prove it, we will get no where: and that’s a hysterical understatement.

The bottom line for me is this: Keeping God as small as me takes too much energy.
And anyway, I’m a messed up girl – so I need a really big God.
I need a God whose ways are not known to me. Whose decisions and methods are not dependent on my approval.
A God who needs no instruction. And finally, though humbling, A God who prefers from me stillness and praise.

.life.

2011-03-09T14:11:00.001-06:00

We have BigStaff every Wednesday morning at 9:30.
This is where church wax is hashed. It’s pretty generic but every once in a while Steve will ask, “What’s going on with you? Need prayer? Have something good to say”, and he scans the room.
For one year (minus two days of ditching) every Wednesday he has posed the question and I slink in my chair… think math class, 8th grade.
People talk a lot about how great their kids are, school acceptances, career advancements, proposals, moving to Europe blah blah blah.

At my house we talk about moving, advancement and college too. And my kids have beaten me down with such vigor that not ONLY am I nearly convinced that a pot farm in California is a viable solution for college financing, but it could also answer a bevy of retirement questions I have as well.

I tried the the-family-that-prays-together-stays-together thing.
Maybe the-family-that-harvests-together-stays-together is worth a whirl.

BUT TODAY IS DIFFERENT.
Today I had two things to report – but, alas - no inquiry.

So I’m going to tell You.

Last night, Fat Tuesday, my boys and I were at party in the neighborhood. There was a great band and no once was dancing.
I looked at my 11 year old and said ‘Want to dance??’ He is always up for a good Worm on an empty dance floor. ‘No’, he said.
I looked at my 15 year old, who only came because every once in a while I allow him to drive illegally. I said with a wide grin, ‘Do you want to dance??’

To my utter shock, he smiled and said,
‘Yes’.
He got up, took me by the hand, and proceeded to spin me, twirl me and box step me for what felt like a blissful eternity.
With the most beautiful awkward smile I’ve ever seen.

It was the perfect gift.

Next item: Last week we found out that son #2 (Worm boy) beat out a few hundred kids for a position at the Talented and Gifted middle school in our area.
… He’s got such a bright future.
I hope I don’t mess it up.

Thanks for listening.

hopegnostic

2011-01-20T16:33:00.004-06:00

I’ve been seeing a counselor (comments to self, please).
I’ve done this before (again, no comment needed) but I tire easily because I don’t understand why they get $$ for a 50 minute hour and only ever seem to offer, ‘and how does that make you feel?’ [my girlfriends at least offer wine with that, FOR FREE]
(TANGENT ALERT)
‘Well, Bob, it makes me feel like taking a tire iron and bashing their useless head in’.
‘Oh’, says Bob, ‘And how does THAT make you feel?’
‘Bob, I’ll be right back, I need to get something from my trunk.’

So, I’ve been seeing AnotherBob.
And I learned something about me this time.
I have an addiction.
It is hope.
It’s not HealthyHope. It’s sickhope.

It’s the one that makes you stay when you shouldn’t.
It’s the one that makes you justify something that is unjustifiable.
It’s the one that makes you crazy and end up hating yourself.
It’s the one that causes you to believe something that is unbelievable.
And you put your sickhope glasses on every time your start to see or sense something in someone, or something, that you don’t want to know/deal with/believe.

And then you run/breathe/work/live like you can call it into being – by sheer will.

Trust me:You Cant.

My BFF, Karen, has a beautiful life altering mantra:
No expectations, No disappointments.

(TANGENT ALERT)
Another friend of mine holds to the sentiment: Under Promise Over Deliver – unfortunately what that really translates to in that particular life is Never Promise Never Deliver – lonely, but safe.

I’ve thought about pursuing Karen’s line of reasoning but I have the same trouble with it that I do with fasting (which is why I don’t): I become so obsessed with not eating, that I forget why I’m not, and what I’m to be doing with that space in my life.
The more I focus on expecting nothing, the more my focus moves to what I expect – which, OF COURSE, increases my disappointment… over stuff I shouldn’t be counting on from another human. (which is a crock for another blog).

So I decided that I was going to be Hopegnostic – I won’t believe or disbelieve in Hope. And I will step aside and appreciate another’s pursuit of it, or not.
(and yes I realize that it’s sickhope I should do away with not HealthyHope: think baby/bathwater.

So, I walk through my kitchen this morning, tidying up from the beautiful chaos of a school morning, and see a little black square on the floor beside the fridge.
It’s a teensy tiny magnet from a magnet poetry set we like to have fun with…
I turn it over:

and I know, without a shadow of a doubt:
I’m not ready to.

Life Rocks.

2010-08-22T21:51:00.005-05:00

Oh my Goodness – it’s been forEVer!
I am back from Costa (duh), and in the new house – this new house that represents hope, promise and a future.
We have moved from Egypt to Canaan.
My boys are the bravest men around. Especially Henry. He is 14. Entering high school.
He has made this move without one grumble. One complaint. One negative word. One iota of crappy attitude.
He has left the land of everything he has known for 6 years… which is a world of years when you are only 14.

Henry reminds me of my dad. Strong. Silent. Dangerous. Thoughtful. Proud. Good.
Henry, like my dad, is deeply good.
(and unlike my dad, has all his teeth)

Right now – right at this minute: Harry Potter blasting from TV, laundry set to tumbling, school in the ‘morrow, nail in tire and an empty tank of gas, life rocks.

Woodrow – be good to my son.
God – be good to my son.
Life – be good to my son.
Love – be good to my son.
Sorrow – be done with my son.

kate

Mission Trip:Costa

2010-07-22T08:22:00.002-05:00

July 20 and then some

Headed for bed – but not before I tell you about the most arrogant position I’ve even taken, and the broken humility that came on its heels.

………

I wrote that sentence 2 days ago. It is now July 22.

I have sweat and re sweat and then sweat again.

I have built cinderblock footings, moved concrete and mounds&mounds of dirt.

Today I’m going out with the medical team into the villages. They are taking medical surveys for the clinic that we are building. Two days Drew made a visit. Last night, one of the Drs on the trip told me he had followed up with the child and mom and that Drew had saved that child’s life. Not heroic measures, but with water and Tylenol.

10 of thousands of people die daily, all over the world, due to a lack of fresh water.

10 billion dollars would supply fresh water.

That’s what American’s spend on ice cream each year.

Americans spent 600,000 billion on Christmas each year.

We are 5% of the world population and consume 40% of the world’s resources.

And here is the point I started on July 20.

And then I bring my fat, free voting, Christian, American butt over to save the day.

One small matter of fact, on top of all that: I haven’t had the common decency to learn their language before I swoop in to save the day.

The mighty American. What a crock.

And so, I break my back over a ditch. Lay tile as beautifully as I can. Sand down school desks and pray over each one. Hoist cinderblocks over rebar, and wonder, all the while… Will this change me.

I want to be changed.

Please God.

Change me.

Cuan Grande es Dios.

Mission Trip:Costa Rica

2010-07-19T19:37:00.000-05:00

Sunday, July 18 and then some

I hear monkeys! And I’m not talking about about Tova and Phil HA! Actual monkeys. They do a groan/bark thing. How WEIRD is that??

I have to tell you – Tova sat in with our little small group tonight. She was talking about God, and what God has given each girl. She told the girls how beautiful they were, inside and out. She told them that God has blessed them and they need to know it and do it.

I started thinking about my small groups, and Sunday school classes growing up. I was a TOTAL misfit – not bad – just the wrong fit.

I remember my Sunday school teacher – I guess I was in Jr High ish. She was really together, beautiful, demure, organized, holy and whatever else. I know she meant well – REALLY well – but the message I heard Sunday/Wednesday after Sunday/Wednesday after Sunday/Wednesday was that if I wasn’t quiet and demure: translate: monovanilla – I wasn’t really a good fit as a Christian girl.

Now there’s NO WAY she could have meant for me to hear that (giving her benefit of the doubt) but that’s what I heard.

MAN O MAN did I spend a years trying to fit in with her ideas!! One year I even signed yearbooks as ‘God’s Handmaiden’!!! Can you believe it???? Ick. Blach. Gag me!

As I listened to Tova I thought: What if SHE had been my mentor, leader, teacher? Loving who I was, the heart of me. Seeing it and applauding God in me. Imagine – all the goofy, singing, dramatic, insecure, hopeful, confused, boy crazy, struggling, loving little bits of me being adored by someone who was convinced that God knew what He was doing when He dreamed me up.

These girls and guys are blessed to be in her care. Her momma heart is big. Way bigger than her body – though not big as her laugh.

Time for bed now.

I want to dream about the will of God tonight. Not a ‘what is the will of God for my life’ dream, but I want God to appear to me and tell me if there really is just one will per life.

One.

And if you don’t hit it square in the eye, you’re sunk.

Now, there is a LOT about that thinking that would play well with my life, but I really have doubts about it being the heart of God at work.

Monday July 19

I have no more finger prints.

My back is shot.

My knees are swollen.

It’s very pretty.

Going to dinner, then worship, then bed.

Cuan Grande es Dios, and mi booboo’s.

Mission Trip:Costa Rica

2010-07-18T18:32:00.006-05:00

Saturday July 17, and then some:

First of all, I guess I was the last to know that you could GO to Costa Rica and NOT see a beach. Up until 20 minutes before I got to DFW

I thought I was ‘giving of myself’ at, on or near sand and water.

If I sit very still I can feel a little briar patch creeping up around my we-are-the-world heart.

I am currently sitting in DFW waiting for my flight.

International travel being what it is, I have DAYS to poke around the shops. The bookstores are always my favorite. I found a book called, ‘How to Change Someone You Love’.

I called my boyfriend immediately. I knew he would be just as excited as me. I told him he could read it when I’m done.

Next, I spy with my little eye, a ‘Green’ bible. Really?

Then I wandered to Ben and Jerry’s. I found the perfect flavor, asked for a single/small cone. I was told that their small cones come with 2 scoops. GREAT! How cool!! That’s so customer servicy, so Ying & Yang, which is just so Ben & Jerry! So I picked my #2 flavor and slid over to the cash register. I noticed the cash register had a message on its read out screen. W

e are

accustomed to the innocuous ‘Have a Nice Day’, but Mr.’s Ben and Jerry take every opportunity to make a statement. This message read, ‘Have a Euphoric Day’.

Totally loving that… then I was charged for my small cone. $5.27. I asked if was laced with opium, which would then explain the euphoria…

Btw:My house is 80% boxed up for the move my kids and I are making across town 4 days after I arrive back home. That means that even though I’ve been packing in a way that would assure that I’m lacking NOTHING for the mission trip, I still had to open 7 sealed boxes.

It is HOURS LATER… plane was delayed by 3 hours. Mechanical trouble. New plane. Herd 60+ kids to oppositeside of airport. Take tram. Tram broke. Had to get off. New tram: Twilight Zone experience. Found plane and sat down on it (seat, not wing).

We landed in San Juan, Costa Rica and are now sitting on the floor with our passports in hand. It’s midnight. Computers went down. We have a 2 hour bus ride ahead of us. And the truth is, we could be in this airport for several hours. On this floor.

Oh My Goodness.

It is now morning.

We arrived at Hotel Bambu @ 3am.

My room is gorgeous. Very simple/utilitarian.

What is this wood on the floor??? And it’s EVERYWHERE! Even the outdoor walkways are wood. The view from my balcony is ridiculously stunning. I can hear critters… and if I listen very carefully, a driving bass line – who brought a boombox???

The air is very thick.

B’fast @ 8:

The coffee at breakfast was the smoothest slick slippery brew I’ve ever tasted in my life. I ate my weight in mango – it was perfect mango.

Every morning at b’fast akid will be giving their faith testimony. That’s pretty sweet – sometimes the choir needs to be sung to!

I think what the kid said this morning is pretty right on thinking for most kids that have spent some years in church and the grown ups they grow up to be.

His struggle is with maintaining a spiritual high. He is hoping to be set on fire during this trip – something sustainable.

As much as we all would like that, we know – those of us who are a little further on the journey – it doesn’t happen. Euphoria is not sustainable.

Instead the journey with God is littered with twists, turns, battles and sometimes even terminal wrecks of faith.

If you make it even further in the journey, you realize the highly coveted ‘euphoria’ you’re sporting has more to do with what you have personally come to know: skin graphs can cov

er the deepest woundings: than the celebration of having maintained dignity thru a bone crushing experience good Christians like to call ‘seasons’.

But that’s just me.

Dpt for church @ 9:

I’m told the entire service is in Spanish. RIGHT ON! Have to leave it to my Spirit.

Cuan Grande es Dios,

Kate

PS: ok. explain THIS!!

Jr High Mission Trip Journal: Learning Lessons

2010-06-25T12:38:00.001-05:00

June 24, 2010

7:06 am: in bunk: This is my last day at camp. I head down the mtn tonight so that I can catch a VERY early flight in the morn. The last two nights I’ve sung the girls to sleep with Hung the Moon. Pretty sweet. Tonight all the firefighter guys we’ve been working with are coming to dinner and worship. That’ll be a hoot.
Time for coffee.

June 25, 2010

11:16am: sitting on floor in Denver airport: Yesterday was CRAZY! Just busy. Very good. Worship was AWESOME!!! We were outside again, and I was singing Hung the Moon… when the lyric ‘rest and dream tho I don’t slumber’ came, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BREEZE blew by and shimmied all the sliver dollars. It was AMAZING. If you just closed your eyes you would have SWORN that God was blowing gently on your forehead. SO SO great!
And I had to leave the mountain last night for early flight this morning – up at 5:30 - that was canceled… I was shuttled 2 hours to the Denver airport, where I now sit, and see that my flight has been delayed. AND I left my entire makeup bag at camp. So I look great, and have breath to match!

It was a great trip. I think the best part for me, as a girl, was hanging out with some really great moms – Lee Ann, Becky, Lori and Lucy – that was awesome. Incidentally, they all tried Breathe Right (anti snoring nose prop-er-uper things) I’m just going to say, it wasn’t 100% successful. But that’s ALL I’m going to say.

Can I say OMGoodness about the youth staff – they say the fish stinks from the head back… Well, sort of trade that ‘stink’ for something gorgeous, put the fish head on Tova and BAM. ROCK AND ROLL

And the kids were/are precious. OH MY GOSH I just would not ever be in Jr High again. That was the biggest lesson I learned… don’t need a do-over there. But the friendships that have begun to form are very sweet.
A GREAT GREAT GREAT group of kids.

I also remembered that it is an honor, joy and privilege to be the mom of my radical kids. My own little mission field (swaps out with minefield every now and again) and I wouldn’t trade my spot for all the tea in China!

I am sore and bone weary.
I am PUMPED about the Munger Place Plant Boot Camp this weekend!!

Alright – I’m gonna go find a soda pop. Thanks for following along. I hope you’ve been able to catch a glimpse of something-or-other.

All joy- kate

Jr High Mission Trip Journal: Learning Lessons

2010-06-23T21:24:00.001-05:00

June 23, 2010

6:54 am: in bunk: People have risen from the dead. Good news. But even BETTER news is that our Mr Potty up at the worksite gets replaced with a fresh and new one. Now THAT’s happy day – I’m going to have TWO cups of coffee this morning!!!

7:57 pm: just finished worship: Tonight we sat outside in a little amphitheater with multitudinous Aspen and Pine encircling us. We sang Indescribable, Beautiful One, No Rock, and a couple of others, and I thought of my BFF.

Karen is always moved by nature. She is a sunset chaser, a cloud gazer, a tree wonderer and a sky marvel-or. For as long as I’ve known her she has been this way. She works some aspect of nature into nearly every prayer and can often find the answer to life’s little idiot riddles by stopping to look up or out.

As I was pounding out Indescribable I saw what Karen sees.

I was looking around at the forest of Aspens, whose leaves were shimmering like silver dollars. It was very clear they were applauding the last breath of daylight and coming of sunset. And I wondered what bit of God were we getting a peek into as we sat in His sanctuary.

I am so grateful for what God has shared with me.

I’m going to go back up to that spot to touch the Aspen in my reach until the sun dips under the horizon.

I’m going to listen for God – and He is going to hear me say ‘thank you’.

Goodnight Mudda

Jr High Mission Trip Journal: Learning Lessons

2010-06-22T23:18:00.001-05:00

June 22, 2010

7:55 am: in bunk: People are dropping like flies. And they are primarily in MY bunk area. I’m getting dressed and OUTTA HERE!

3:52 pm: in common area: One of the guys helping/in charge at our reforestation site is Jeff. He is a fascinating guy! He’s worked in film and tv – and not like other people when they say that – you’d actually know his work… think along the lines of Spielberg and Madonna and you’ve named 2 of MANY. He’s done a bunch of other stuff too, but definitely the most fascinating were the rumors of him being a ‘ghost hunter’. NATURALLY that peaked my curiosity. And fortunately he was on the chipping team today so I got to hear it all. I was NOT disappointed. OH! He was ALSO a physics major and is heading into the world of quantum physics as it relates to nature and spirituality. An aside: he can tell you EVERYTHING about the Ute Indians that used to inhabit the land. He can tell you everything about the minerals found in the ground where we are standing, and the fossil site down the hill that dates back 1.3 million years. FASINATING.

So, after hearing a couple of his ‘ghost’ stories I said, “Jeff, aren’t you more of a spirit see-er than a ghost hunter?’ His response, ‘Yeah – I mean, how do you kill a ghost anyway?’ True dat homes!

With him being so tuned in to the spirit world I asked him how he felt about cutting down trees – if only for overcrowding or disease (an alive tree). He told me that he lays his hands on every tree that he is to fell, and he prays and also speaks to them as to why they are being felled.

I loved everything about what he was saying… And it speaks to what I was thinking yesterday about taking care of God’s artistry. PLUS a tree is a living being, you know? It’s not a rock (which the bible says will ‘cry out’ if WE don’t praise Him – so maybe we need to rethink the inanimate too!! GOD USES IT ALL TO PRAISE HIM)

So my point is, who is ready to say they’ve got the spirit world figured out?? Do YOU know if a tree aches when it’s limbs are being torn from it or when it’s upward beauty is being ripped apart from it’s deep beautiful earthy embedded roots? Do you know what kind of humor God invoked when he created little bugs? Which deer, elk, dove, rabbit, and all other hunted for game animals, brought the biggest smile to His face when He dreamed it up?

I am ready to tell you, I HAVE NO IDEA what God is ready to for me to kill. And I am deciding right now to err on the side of caution when destroying, killing, poisoning and other bigbottomed I-am-human-hear-me-roar-rape-pillage-and-plunder, ideas.

WHO AM I ANYWAY??

Taking a gander at Job 38-41 helps me in my personal caution parade…

10:15 pm: In bed: Worship was great – these kids totally rock! I, on the other hand, am POOPED.

Goodnight Mudda

Jr High Mission Trip Journal: Learning Lessons

2010-06-21T21:56:00.000-05:00

June 21, 2010

6:05 am: In bunk – asleep: It can NOT be time to get up. I had weird WEIRD dreams – the bunkhouse blew up because the pink and white balloons I brought, caught on fire from the heater. Everyone got out safely and we watched the walls collapse – only they weren’t the bunkhouse walls it was something like the Roman Coliseum. But then I ended up in a penthouse somewhere, so it was ok.

Do you think there’s coffee somewhere?

4:11 pm: in bunk- dead: but I’ll tell you whut! That 2012-S Storm Chipper will slurp a 14” in diameter pine tree like it’s melted ice cream! Unreal.

Do you remember the Haymen Burn, 2002 – CO? That’s where we are reforesting. And you know what the coolest thing is – without human intervention it would take the forest 8,000 years to get back to where it was. Because of human intervention it should only take 300-400 years.

Here’s what rocks: there are people in the world that aren’t looking to be known, seen, applauded, mentioned – even thanked: it is as simple as : there is a need, and I’ve got me : the whole ‘ask not’ approach.

I am not one of them, but I would like to try. I really would. I would like to be way way way more active in taking care of this planet and it creatures. But GOD FORBID I get caught caring about a whale, or protest the use of foreign oil or 1,000 other things. I need to not care, and just do it.

What are three things I can do to begin to effect a change in my mindset, my kid’s mindset? How do I start living with set on the intention of protecting God’s artistry?

I’m so tired – I have no idea what I’m saying – but I hear my heart, and my eyes have seen!

I want to be a better human.

8:46 pm: in bunk- sleep soon: Tova was so good tonight. And I find it frightening and amazing that she can be speaking to the Jr Highers, and I’m on the edge of my seat hoping she’ll cure me too! The long and the short of it is that she encouraged everyone to look in a mirror and face yourself. Who are you. What are your gifts. What are the lies you are buying into from friends/loves/parents/society that are keeping you from being you : YOU, the fearfully and wonderfully made beauty!

The whole thing fits in with my New Human stategy.

I’m going to eat a fist full of milk duds & read Grisham by flashlight.

I have wood chips coming out my tear ducts… just, by the way.

Goodnight Mudda –

Jr High Mission Trip Journal: Learning Lessons

2010-06-20T23:20:00.000-05:00

June 20, 2010

7:52 am: DFW airport, flight 1361: So far I have learned that everyone else packed their bedding and clothes on a truck that is headed to CO. I was told:

#1 one small duffle

#2 pack bedding.

I have, for a week, a pair of underwear and a Barbie pillow.

3:00 pm: Sitting in my bunk: Ahh… Jr High – it’s like riding a bike… I’ve learned: I’m still awkward, unsure and unpopular.

10:49 pm: Back in my bunk: Stephen spoke on strength; how much strength is required to be silently strong – appearing weak to the onlooker – typically the one we want to act/be the most bad-bottom in front of. It reminded me of the saying ‘walk softly with a big stick’. It also reminded me of the Karate Kid. It reminded me that I’m not really very good at this. Oh, I can walk softly, and I’m quite cute with the stick – I twirl it like yester-years rodeo princess baton queen – and the minute I need to make a point I wield it like Jackie Chan on red bull – 10 people dead, singlehandedly, but it was a very righteous beating, as I offered several chances for the meeting of my sanctified approval.

So, now I’ll have a nightmare.

Great.

Worship was awesome! These kids could teach their parents a thing or two – WHACK – where’s my red bull??

Stinking early call – reforestation – I feel so noble and green and eco-y.

Goodnight Mudda –

kate

monohomo

2010-06-10T11:51:00.001-05:00

6.10.2010

I’m having fun playing out again- outside ‘the church’.

There’s something about connecting with people in that way, that is very satisfying.

While I play, people drink, laugh, listen close - connecting to the lyrics, and hoping to score resolve if it’s offered, maybe even a gust into an answer to a question they’ve been asking too.

The listener and me walking up to the line hoping - expectant for some sort of exchange, dare I say deliverance?

I’m not promoting Kate as Oracle here… I’m just ok with asking questions and looking stupid. (that I’ve chosen to do that out loud and onstage is a topic for another time)

They take the ride with me.

Captured, weightless and silly – caught unawares.

They are willing.

I am willing.

We are willing participants in something that is nearly unidentifiable and entirely intangible.

And that is what I most miss about ‘the church’.

A lack of willing.

Anemic will.

The lack of desire to grope for will.

A want for will.

monohomo

And it’s not every one that comes to church, or any one denomination.

It’s just what I see sometimes.

God is It

2010-06-05T09:44:00.002-05:00

Thursday, June 3, 2010

TODAY I:
made up with my sister.

met young girl with gobs of artistic potential.

smelled pot on my son’s breath.

stared at the cover of the book I’m to be reading for the book club.

thought about a young boy who took his life 7 days ago.

daydreamed about a love and its future.

watered the plants.

considered Fair Trade living.

contemplated what it means to my budget to give up Wal Mart.

wished for a great little bungalow in East Dallas.

God was in it all.

all was in God.

it was God.

God was it.

Munger Worship:Creepiness' & Fabulousness' - It's All Good

2010-05-12T13:20:00.003-05:00

There's nothing like a blank screen and deadline to keep you searching for anything else to do.

3 loads of laundry, 52 emails and 7 Facebook posts later…

The topic: Munger Worship, An Inside Look.

Firstly, let's get semantics right. To me, an old Baptist girl, turned Non Denominational, turned bizarrely Methodist, 'worship' means the MUSIC bits. Please refer to this handy definition provided by Mr. Webster:

2worship

Function: verb

Inflected Form(s): worshipped also worshiped;worship·ping also worship·ing

Date: 13th century

transitive verb

1 : to honor or reverence as a divine being or supernatural power 2 : to regard with great or extravagant respect, honor, or devotion

intransitive verb

: to perform or take part in worship or an act of worship

We don't 'worship' the announcements. We don't 'worship' the sermon. We don't 'worship' the tithe. We come together to worship God! And the music portion of the service is really the only thing befitting of the definition, as it relates to a church service.

Now that I've cleared that up:

I have no earthly idea what Munger worship is going to look like.

All I can tell you is what I know, who I am, and what has moved me, profoundly.

Now, I understand that I am looked at, as my title would exclaim, as Music Director.

But before that I am a girl:

Broken, full of joy, perplexed, hopeful, driven, harried, lazy, spirit filled and vain. (I'll spare you the comparison: Prov 31: I've checked - I'm not in there)

And before that I was fearfully and wonderfully made:

I was created by God.

He placed my creepiness' and fabulousness' in me, and wrote my story.

I have never been hidden from God presence.

I have only ever banished myself.

God has not ever stopped thinking about me.

I have spent my life thinking about me.

I was created by God.

I have broken God's heart.

God created me.

I have disgraced the faith I proclaim.

I am loved by God.

I am selfish with my money.

God loves me.

Yes, I'm a creep, and it's no secret to God.

Why?

Why is it that everyday God lets me do it, creepy, fabulous and all, all over again?

As if yesterday wasn't exhausting enough.

God has given me life, and daily, for whatever reason, He sustains my breath.

Maybe God keeps waking me up so that He has another shot at enjoying me.

Maybe God keeps waking me up so that I have another shot at enjoying him.

Yes, I'm a creep, and it's no secret to God.

But how long do I stay there?

For how long do I sit in God's chair and decide I'm not worthy? Rest assured, many have come to that conclusion on my behalf, thank you very much, but so far I know God as: King and Redeemer. Restorer, Sanctify-er. Healer. Victor.

You may ask yourself: How does Kate being a creep relate to worship?:

Because you're a creep too, and we've been told it's ok to worship God anyway. (enter, King David)

How many more times will we be granted the extreme honor of coming together, in worship, with other people and THEIR creepiness' and fabulousness' so that God can enjoy us, together?? Solely for His delight - giving way to His Spirit as He moves among us!!!?? Renewing us, reviving us, restoring us, rescuing us.

THINK ABOUT IT!!

Munger Worship, An Inside Look:

Our sanctuary will be filled with people who are being encouraged to be honest about who they are, and who they want to be.

People that want to grow spiritually, who seek accountability and community.

People that admit they've let past church/denominational hurts dictate their current church standing.

People that are ready to begin the laying down of social and religious fraud.

People that don't know anything about God and want to argue His existence.

People that accept truth when they are nose to nose with it.

People that give it UP during worship, like when their horse/team/sales dept/fav band/dealership/firm/practice/big idea is on FIRE!

People that dance like those kids at the foot of the stage in Cornerstone.

People that listen to The Muse, Rufus Wainwright, Coldplay and Pasty Cline.

People that appreciate elements of ceremony, liturgy, sanctuary and the Baptist hymnal.

We have all sinned and fallen short, quack quack quack.

Quit acting like that's not you. Get over yourself, already.

We are one and the same.

Kate Miner, CmD.

(creepy music director)

Kate's Bio

2010-05-12T10:32:00.005-05:00

Kate Miner is an artist who "can't separate her performance from the song. The song, singer and performance are one and the same, inseparable." says Chuck Plotkin (producer for Bruce Springsteen and a host of other various artists.) Kate likewise refuses to compartmentalize her life from her art, her spirituality from her humanity, or the calling of God from her identity. As such, her music possesses a raw emotional transparency that crosses all demographic boundaries and cuts deftly to the listeners heart. Kate is "...someone who can move you and soothe you in equal measure." wrote Chris Willman of the L.A. Times.

Kate began singing publicly at the age of four when she performed a duet at her local church. And began vocal work on television commercials at approximately ten.

At twenty-one, shortly after she moved to Los Angeles and began working in local clubs, Kate landed her first recording deal, with Word Records, and an impressive co-publishing/ development deal with Sony Music Publishing. Kate has sung with Tonio K, Pierce Pettis, Christopher Williams, Michelle Pillar, Randy Stonehill, Mark Heard, The Choir, and FunderburkMiner. In 1992, she was named Female Acoustic Artist of the Year by the National Academy of Songwriters.

By 1997, Kate found herself at a dramatic career crossroad. While the road to further music business success and celebrity stretched ahead and was seemingly hers for the taking, she couldn't help noticing that her involvement with the music at church was becoming more meaningful and gratifying than anything represented by Hollywood. Her friend, and manager at the time, Susan Munao, sensing Kate's growing tension, issued a challenge to her to make a decision about the vision for her career. Kate acknowledged that God was pointing toward a special purpose for the talent He'd given her, and though nearly reluctant at first, she would ultimately refer to this new career focus as "the reason I was born." Since that time, and in her inimitable style, she goes at it with everything she's got, with no apologies, and no looking back.

Serving as music director for 10 years at the Vineyard Christian Fellowship of Malibu in California (birthplace of Jason Wade/LightHouse and Kendall Payne), she was given the opportunity to pursue what would ultimately blend the whole of her artistic passion, and formidable musical gifts into the service of God's purpose for modern worship music. The result has been nothing less than explosive, said by many to be like nothing they have ever experienced.

1999 would be a year of both triumph and tragedy for Kate. She would produce two very significant albums in the same year, but she'd also lose her mother to brain cancer.

Upon learning of her mother's terminal prognosis, Kate wanted to comfort her by recording a tape of herself singing her mom's favorite hymns. But, as they discovered mom's health was deteriorating more rapidly than predicted, it was also learned that countless doctor bills were falling through the cracks of the insurance system, threatening to leave her Dad not only devastated by loss, but also strapped with enormous unpaid medical bills. Kate immediately went on the offensive and pulled several music biz friends together to instead produce a full fledged CD, "Old Hymns My Mom Loves." She finished it in time for her mom to hear it round the clock during her final days. Then in the months after she passed away, sales from the CD produced enough money to pay off the entire outstanding balance of medical bills. As a benevolence project, it was a complete success, but it also serves as a loving tribute to her mother and the legacy of spiritual foundation she passed to her kids.

Just two short months later, Kate began pre-production on what would become her most passionate and definitive worship recording to date, "Live From the Sunset Strip." Recorded completely live at the Roxy Theater in Hollywood, it quickly became a landmark worship album with acclaim that was nearly unprecedented in its unanimous praise by critics and fans alike. From this record, a groundswell began. Kate's song, "Jesus You Are Holy", was picked up by Worship Leader Magazine (January 2000) for their Song Discovery CD. Then again, their February issue featured "We Believe". While "Carry Me" and "Jesus, You Are Holy" are fast becoming favorites with churches around the country, worship recording artists like Rita Springer and others are including songs from "Live" on their own CDs.

In September of 2001, she independently released a collection of tracks recorded between 1989 to 1999, all previously unreleased, that chronicle her career trek thus far. She calls it, "the journey that led to 'Live'" and wittily entitled it "These Could've Been My Greatest Hits." In 2006 she released “Prodigal Martha” - her ponderances after vocal chord surgery, and most recently, “Songs” a sort of Greatest Hits Never Heard, Vol 2.

Kate has been a front runner in worship leading and is especially excited as the number of female worship leaders continues to grow around the world. With a nod of respect to the interesting and unusual road she's traveled, she remains focused on being a mom, and an artist. In it all, she admittedly struggles with surrender, fails most days at forgiveness but remains convinced that God is on the throne.

THINGS I LOVE
MY KIDS:
Hannah, 22 who gave me a GRANDSON: TUCKER 3yrs old (YUM)
Liv, 16 guitar, piano, singer, writer, attitude for miles/days
Henry, 14 skater, drummer, eyes on Berklee School of Music
Ethan, 9 so smart you’ll want to nap, eyes on Harvard

MUNGER:
What I said to Paul was: It is the church’s privilege to step into the community, NOT the community’s responsibility to step into the church.

We will bless this neighborhood by our desire to be culturally relevant.

There is no template. RIGHT ON! We won’t be taking a popular church model that works in San Diego or London or, say Highland Park, and trying to smash The Mungers into it -how ridiculous. Our invitation to remain in the neighborhood will come from falling in love with The Mungers and seeking to bless them.

MOVIES:
I love movies. I love GOING to movies. I love movie POPCORN mixed with Milk Duds (I do not share) I like standing in line, looking at people as they leave to see what they thought of the movie. I like foreign movies. I like critically acclaimed & commercially trashed. There is no movie I won’t pay to see. I think, like children, they should all be given audience and THEN you can banish them.

FOOD:
Indian is my favorite, but I can not cook it. HOWEVER, I make a mean chocolate soufle! And for the right price, I will make one for YOU!

MUSIC:
Yes, I like it.
Aimee Mann. Bocelli. Rat Pack. The Osmonds. Rascal Flats.

FAV QUOTE:
... don’t have one I guess -but I’m highly enamored with most everything that comes out of my mouth...

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Discography

> Check out Kate's music on iTunes

SACRED, recorded in 1995. My first record after having departed the club/rock star scene. Think a la naturale and you'll be pleased.
LIVE FROM THE STRIP, recorded in 1999. This will always be my personal favorite. It's live worship, NO OVERDUBS or RETAKES or ANYTHING. The players are superb and the Spirit is soaring!!
OLD HYMNS MY MOM LOVES, recorded in 1999. My mom was dying with terminal brain cancer. My intention was to record some of her favorite hymns, just for her. When I saw the Dr bills mounting I enlisted some friends and pressed up a few copies. We covered ALL medical bills with this record. My dad played it so much during the last weeks that mom lived, my sister retitled it: Old Hymn That Killed Mom.
OLD HYMNS MY DAD LOVES, recorded 2003. Was such a hit with Mom, decided to do one for dad. His response: Do you know something I don't know?
THESE COULD HAVE BEEN MY GREATEST HITS, compiled in 2001. Title, self explanatory. This record is a compilation of demos that span 10 years. If you're looking for a range of songwriting and some hair-don't pictures this record is for you.
PRODIGAL MARTHA, recorded in 2005. I have no words for this record (I used them all up in the songs). Just listen to it.
SONGS, compiled in 2009. My favorite music moment EVER is on this record: A live duet between Darrell Evans and me singing Dream Before You. This record is a smattering of everything I've done