home | contact
Kari walks into the new sanctuary

Love carries Kari into the new sanctuary

Nearly 1,800 people stepped into the new sanctuary for the first time on Open Up Weekend. But few put one foot in front of another with quite the faith and determination of Kari Olsen. “If I was only Kari, I wouldn’t be anything of the woman I am,” she says in the tones of her Norwegian childhood. “But I knew I could do it with the help of God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit.”

Without the cheers that such a victory deserves, in a hushed time before the sanctuary filled with people, Kari’s husband Harry wheeled her within range of her goal. She rose to balance with her walker. And then, painstakingly, Kari moved her prosthetic legs to a front-row chair for worship.

“I thought maybe I’d say hallelujah,” says Kari. “But I just knew I had done it. I sat there and thought, ‘Who am I to deserve a church as fine and as beautiful and as vital as this church is?’”

Born in Norway in 1937, Kari’s early life was shaped by World War II — the long absence of her merchant marine father, the blackouts, the terror of sirens and bomb shelters. “I would pray the Lord’s Prayer over and over until the siren went off and it was all clear.” By the time Kari was 17, she had a maturity beyond her years and a spirit to “see and experience new things.” She met a handsome American soldier, and within a week they knew they would wed.

As Harry and Kari raised their four children in Chicago suburbs, they put down roots in a church. But one day last year, when daughter Lisa Gaston announced that her family was moving to Davenport, Kari didn’t miss a beat. “Well, dad and I are moving to Davenport too.”

“My roots are anywhere in the world that my home is. I can be totally content learning new things. I knew nothing about Iowa, but I knew that God was going to show me a new way to live,” explains Kari in the accent that spans an ocean and expands her citizenship.

But not long after Harry and Kari moved, she broke her hip. Complications related to diabetes led to the amputation of both Kari’s legs. During this crisis, Harry and the Gastons began to make St. Paul their church home. They worshiped on Sundays, and during the week the church came to Kari in the form of pastors, hospital chaplains, and Befrienders.

One day as she lay in her hospital bed, Kari overheard a doctor talking about “the stump” that remained of her left leg. “When I was a girl in Norway, we had bonfires and we always looked for stumps to burn. I cradled my leg and said, ‘Baby, no one’s ever going to burn you.’”

It came to Kari that she should call what remained of her left leg “Eva” — the name of her childhood friend. The right leg became “Baby Eva.” Says Kari, “That’s God who puts these thoughts in my brain. I cradle my legs and I am very fond of them. I have loved them from the day they were born.” The amputations were not so much a loss as “a new birth” for Kari and her legs.

Doctors and nurses were startled when Kari would say, “I would like to introduce you to my new friend. This is Eva.” But soon they would ask, “How is Eva today, Kari?” And she would reply, “Both girls are fine and they are very happy.”

Kari became an inspiration for visitors, patients, and therapists. She got people talking and smiling with one another. “My purpose on earth,” she says firmly, “is to let God shine through me.”

In early summer, with the news that the new sanctuary would open in September, Kari thought, “I am going to walk into the church with the help of God. That was what was in my mind. It was so strong.”

Fitted with new prosthetic limbs, she entered the rigors of daily training. Sometimes she would cry in pain. But she reassured Eva and Baby Eva: “It is all going to be fine, because you’re going to be walking. The three of us were together on this.”

Four days before her Open Up walking debut, with window-washers at work around her, Kari entered the new sanctuary with Harry and her physical therapist. It was a trial run. Kari tested the finish and slope of the floor, declaring them good. She was ready.

On Sunday morning, Sept. 16, Harry delivered the sobering news: the car battery was dead. He guessed they couldn’t go to church. But “no” is not an acceptable response for this woman. They rallied son-in-law Lee Gaston to deliver them. And Kari walked. With her own determination — and with God’s power of love to give her the strength.

Kari has an affinity for certain words in the English language. Beloved is one of those words. To her, the curious child standing next to her wheelchair is beloved. So is the pastor, the new friend. “You are my beloved,” she tells them. “We didn’t talk that way in Norway,” she recalls of a more reserved culture.

But she has come to understand that love is “big and powerful yet so simple.” It is Love that got Kari Olsen to her new feet and carried her into this new house of God.

  ::  

"Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend." ~Martin Luther King, Jr.