Carb Loaded Tears

I am here to tell you it is okay to cry into your mac and cheese at Panera because the world is broken.

Today I have cried three times. I cried at 3am reading my to-do list, feeling overwhelmed by life. Those tears ended and I found myself sleeping off the worry. I cried during lunch watching this video. Normally I have my hesitations about Alexa but this video got me. I started with the title, but the tears came when she spoke about her grandmother. I still am on the fence about Alexa but my heart aches with her at the loss of a grandparent.

It is 7:43pm and I just got finished crying in Panera. I am waiting for a child I stay with to get out of cheer practice. I thought I would camp out at a table, have some tea, and eat way too many carbs while studying for finals. I found myself reading through the hashtags on twitter. I became paralyzed with sadness as I read more details about the California mass shooting today. I read more about how this was the 352^nd mass shooting this year. I read as people tried to point the blame. I read as Parliament decided bombing Syria was the right choice. I read. I cried.

In my hope to escape the horrors of the world, I began reading my favorite blogs. As I made my way through Hannah’s, I realized my heart was breaking for a reason. I understood that as much as I despised the pain in my chest and the salty tears on my face, God had called me to read these words. He had asked me to show my compassion, to make my opinions, to have a say in what was happening. Our heavenly father has been breaking me down. He has been asking me to see the brokenness in the world. He is showing me my path.

This year I have learned a lot. I have learned that our world is in pain. It is shattered and it is in need of healing. Our world is in need of compassion, grace, and willingness. I have learned that I am inadequate but I am also enough. I am the person that cries obnoxiously in public spaces. I am also the person who understands my words will not change the world, but they can be a start. I am the person bold enough to say that prayer is the only solution I know for sure cannot be wrong.

So yes, tonight I made people uncomfortable with my tears as I wept into my mac and cheese, but I also hope that I can help find the light in our dark world.

Tonight I do not care who you are, what you believe in, what you know to be true, or what in this world scares you. Tonight I encourage you to find joy in our dark world, or better yet be the joy. Even if you have to shed some tears to get there, you can do it. I promise. The Lord does not call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

Always cry over carbs,

Katie Ann

All Saints Day 2015

Words I wish I had shared at my grandfather’s memorial

All Saints’ Day is a time to rejoice in all who through the ages have faithfully served the Lord. The day reminds us that we are part of one continuing, living communion of saints. It is a time to claim our kinship with the “glorious company of apostles … the noble fellowship of prophets … the white-robed army of martyrs” (Te Deum). It is a time to express our gratitude for all who in ages of darkness kept the faith, for those who have take the gospel to the ends of the earth, for prophetic voices who have called the church to be faithful in life and service, for all who have witnessed to God’s justice and peace in every nation.

Pat Smith had many titles. Coach Smith, Principal, Mister, Sir, Father. However, I believe his favorite was Grandpa.

I was lucky enough to be one of four grandchildren of Pat Smith. I was even luckier to be one of two granddaughters. People remember the eagerness of football in this town by the image of my grandpa sitting in his car while my brother and cousin William practiced football. It is easy to remember him cheering us on at academic achievements and milestones. All these qualities made him a wonderful grandfather. However, I remember him sitting for three hours at my dance shows only to see me on stage for a total of 15 minutes. I never had to doubt if he was in the crowd at a one act play competition even if he had seen the show four times before. He never discouraged Sarah and I from keeping up with the boys, or holding our own. He never had to second-guess being there for his grandchildren. These things make him a wonderful grandpa.

Many of you will nod your head and agree. He had all these wonderful qualities. He was a wonderful human being. Many of you can recall wonderful moments and actions that add to his character. If you told me Pat Smith saved your life, I would believe you without a doubt. The wonderful thing about Grandpa is he treated everyone with kindness and respect first. If you were having a conversation with him, he made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. To him you were.

That is what makes him so wonderful in my eyes. He had this heart for people. He shared himself with everyone, but I cannot recall one moment in my life where I did not feel like the most important person in his world. His memorial had standing room only. He was a part of so many people’s lives, yet I felt like the only one. I only hope that one day I can make people feel as half as special as he did.

As some can recall, our family walked in first to the church. We took our seats and filled up two pews. Behind us, followed people that are not related family but are more than just friends. My grandparents have built this community around us of people who support and love us like we do share blood. There is not a day that passes by that I think it would just be easier to tell people we were related to The Little Family. I grew up with this idea that family was the most important, but family did not have to be defined by your last name.

My grandpa may not be with us here physically but he has done a damn good job of making sure we have a strong support system to help keep us going. He also left enough of his spirit in each member of this extended family, past students and athletes to make sure I never forget what grace looks like in the world.

If he were at his memorial service, I know three things to be true, 1) he would be crying. He was a big softy and we all know it. 2) He would be in a suit, the man loved his holy shirts and ratty jeans but important events called for a tie and 3) he would be shaking his head mumbling that the service was unnecessary because he is the most humble human I know.

Pat Smith had a lot of titles, a lot of wonderful qualities, and lot of joy to share with this world. I am unimaginably grateful for the chance to be his granddaughter and be a witness to his love on Earth.

Thank you all for loving Pat Smith, our saint, with me.

Always missing you,

Katie Ann