Monday Recap

Last week I surprised myself by doing some office reorganization. And by taking (basically) an entire Friday of not thinking about work. It was much needed and certainly a surprise. Dan took the day off Friday and we spent the day being lazy in the morning, eating lunch at Panera (yum) and getting Christmas shopping done. Only things that we have left are our online purchases.

This weekend I registered our TiVo to stream our unlimited “play now” Netflix queue on our television. I love our Netflix account, but we get the “two at a time” option – not helpful when trying to watch a t.v. series. Which, if you are like me who thinks that the perk of owning a season or series of a tv show is being able to watch it all in a stretch, is annoying. Now we can watch anything that is “play instantly” on Netflix through our TiVo box. This has decreased my general productivity, but I am okay with it for the moment. We are working our way through the Office, as we have been latecomers to the show (only really watching the last two seasons).

We also had this little musical at church called Just Believe that consumed every moment I was not sleeping or watching the Office. I’m only exaggerating a little. I promise. There was also a baby shower thrown by some of my girls for another youth mentor. Very sweet night.

This week I am working on our second performance of our Christmas musical, Just Believe, (Tuesday night, 6:30), hopefully doing some good planning for January teaching series and finishing up wrapping our Christmas presents. And possibly making some lemon cookies. I’ve been in a baking-type mood lately. I’ll embrace it.

Right now I am…
Listening to my iPod on “albums: play all.” Mondays are quieter days in the office so I can crank it up a bit. I had the Beatles’ “Abbey Road” going, John Lennon’s “Acoustic” just came on. Good things.

Working on just finished up filing for some reimbursements. Got to start working on my youth newsletter for January/February

Stressed about I’ll be happy when Just Believe is over tomorrow. I’ve been coordinating the volunteers for these productions, which has given me the chance to get to know some other people, but is pretty intense. Other than that, Dan came down with a gnarly cold this weekend and he took a sick day today. I’m hoping I don’t get it, but my track record isn’t great.

Blessed by the musical was truly a wonderful thing. Also, I had dinner with several of my women youth pastor friends on Thursday. It was a wonderful night of fun, laughter and talk. Talking shop with people in the trenches is totally different than with another member of my staff. I am always realizing how unique this ministry situation is that I find myself in, and do feel blessed to be where I am today.

Final Randomocity the weather is driving me crazy. The high today is -1. Yesterday I got into my car twice to find frost on the inside of my windows (created by temperatures dropping so fast that they caused the warmish air left in my car to condense and freeze). Lovely.

Baby It's Cold Outside

What's Christmas without a song celebrating a man badgering a woman until she concedes to stay overnight, against her instincts? Too cynical for the season? Nevermind, this song is classified as a Christmas song, but really falls under the "cold weather music" mix a bit better. This revamping of the song with Selma Blair and Rainn Wilson (featured in a Gap commercial) is one of my favorite versions of the song that I've seen so far. The other is found below it. Enjoy!

The Night Santa Went Crazy

I was into Weird Al for about a month when I was in junior high. Amish Parasdise was playing on the radio and I was still too young to know what song he was spoofing. But, after that point my Weird Al intake dropped to about 'nil until I started dating Dan. He has several Weird Al cds that we both have loaded onto our iPods. Say what you may about the hair and weird antics - a litte Weird Al makes those trips up and down 35 between KC and Saint Paul a little bit quicker when we aren't interested by comedians, other music or podcasts. One song that I particularly like is this live version of "The Night Santa Went Crazy" it's like a version of "Grandma Got Ran Over By A Reindeer" that I can actually stomach. It's just bizzarre enough to make the list.

Dominick the Italian Donkey

Santa has a little friend, it's Dominick the Italian Christmas Donkey, la la la!

I'm just sayin' -- I had never heard this song until two years ago when the Christmas music station here in the Twin Cities played it one day. I admittedly don't listen to the radio very much, but I've found one other person who knew about the song (and that was last night!) so I think that this is one of the more rare gems of the Christmas music scene. Anyway, no music video, but a youtube version is attached below. Enjoy!

With the passing of Deanna's father, I was ushered into a new stage of adulthood. Frozen in time, grief comes haltingly. It took two days of busyness and hurry for the mourning to set in.

My tears creating new pools of incandescent passion on his back. The words of my mother upon moving out of our childhood home echoed through my mind. "I saw ghosts of little girls dancing." I wanted to take these specters and hold them tight. My ghost does not belong in that house. All of these changes seem to be crushing me.

"I don't want to grow up." Choked out through tears. "I don't want my parents to get old" and die, lay unspoken in the air, hanging there, mocking my grief. The comforting caress on my cheek would not hold back the tears.

"The privilege of growing older, is drinking deeply of life -- of the sorrow and the joy. God loved us too much to let us live forever in this broken state, that's why He took away the tree," my husband murmurs across the pillow, gently kissing my swollen eyes.

And so I grieve. Not just the passing of a good man, and not just the terrible blow my dear friend has been dealt but I grieve my deepening understanding that a moment in time as we know it exists as a gasp. There and then gone, taking us with it. I grieve, not that we cannot live forever in time --

"If you had never grown older, you never would have met me." Would the ghosts of those little girls care? Now that I have met you, have fallen in love with you, I am shouldered with the exquisite burden of caring.

--but that these changes are out of my control, that while hope and love are forever, something -- like snatches of time -- are not. Is this what eating the fruit was like? The sudden understanding of how dearly important things are to you and the simultaneous reality of how insignificant those things most dear really are. I mourned for those little dancing girls, frozen in time who will live forever. I will not, nor care to return to that place.

All I Want For Christmas Is You

I recently set one of my preset stations in the car to the Christmas music station here in the Twin Citites. There has been a lot of talk about now that Thanksgiving is over, it is safe to listen to Christmas music again. Which got me thinking which songs I would want to share with others -- special, obscure, etc. So, begin the blogging of the Christmas Soundtrack.

To begin things with a bang to put you in the Christmas mood, "All I Want For Christmas Is You." The Mariah Carey version will do fine in a pinch, but I'm linking to my favorite performance in my one of my favorite holiday movies: Love Actually. It's hopeful, it's fun and it's infectious. What a great way to start a mix.

Pictures of Fall from up North

Hope, Joy and Anticipation

It seems fitting that Advent comes in the season where light becomes increasingly fleeting. I have begun flinging open the blinds on our windows, scant insulation be damned, just to get a few rays into the house. Too much light, too fast, blinds us and throws our world into disarray. Too little light and we stumble around, hoping that our eyes will acclimate. If we are impatient, if the light comes too slowly for our tastes, we begin charting new paths, we stop trusting and begin rollercoastering into anxiety.

As my little girl chirps and plays at my feet and I savor the last bite of a buttery, flakey pecan pie crust I'm wondering what I want out of advent this year. This season of anticipation is not about getting and wanting, but about waiting, hoping and praying...even still.

I want to see miracles. I want to experience the miracle of a virgin conceiving, the grace of her fiance, the hope and light coming to earth, of Emmanuel. I want the miracle of peace when the storms are raging, because in this early season for many they are already under siege. The miracle of families coming together, of paltry ingredients coming together to make a feast, of a skittish cat who assimilates into a new house. Peace in the storm would truly be a miracle, the next three weeks are going to be intense at work. Maintaining the miracle, the focus on grace and love and hope during the coming days is something I long for.

As the light builds, may my vision be expanded.
May I not flail around for a foothold, but may I cling to hope and joy.
In times of dark and uncertainty, glimmers of light may illuminate my path.
May I anticipate, may I hope, may he come
Emmanuel.

There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill.
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe
Somehow you will
You will when you believe.

A flailing weapon from the 1800s -- only $129.00 from your local Stillwater antique dealer!

Lord willing, if everything goes to plan...we will be crossing into Samaria (aka Iowa) in about 24 hours. I'm still waiting for that pre-trip stress to set in. The stress that gets me to start spinning my wheels, thinking that there isn't enough time to accomplish everything wherein I usually end up getting less done than I could have, had I kept my cool. It'll happen, have no fear. But, until it does, I'm working on getting a few things done for class and work before I start getting concerned about what I'm forgetting.

Lately, though, I feel like my life is pretty boring. Class, work, homework and daily upkeep around the house keep my hours pretty well (over)filled. When it comes down to sit here and write something, I find myself not being nearly the introspective or witty person I want to be (or want to emulate) so I write these filler posts with beige updates about what I've been puttering around and doing. I will say that I feel like I am on the edge. I'm feeling more and more convicted about things in my life, so much so that I may have to begin acting on these convictions (the shock, the horror). What holds me back? The laziness and busyness of my (generally) boring life. Boring is not bad, in fact after a crazy last year, boring is a welcome change. But the whisperings of my heart are quickly becoming too loud for me to continue to ignore. The hollowness I have felt for so long is slowly dissipating. I long to feel a part of something bigger than myself once again. What needs to change? I'm not sure. But I know more and more each day that I can't continue on like this. I can't keep on going the same way I am, if I do, I fear I will lose a portion of myself.

All that to say, this vacation is a welcome return to roots. To break bread and give thanks. To remember where I came from and start to get some perspective so I can begin to think about where I am going. Thankfulness.

I'm worn out. This whole week has been a big push to get to this point, I feel like. Let's do a Sunday recap before I do a Monday looking ahead.

Monday night was class. I'm loving my classes still. I feel incredibly fortunate to be currently in ministry while I am in seminary. It causes me to wrestle more with issues and concepts...and, I think that it's keeping me on my critical thinking feet. I'm thinking more healthily and completely in this area.

Tuesday was work and then Dan and I went over to watch election coverage at his brother's house. Matt had some mutual friends over and we flipped back and forth between Comedy Central's election coverage and the coverage on CNN. We really liked seeing the new technology, but somehow we missed seeing the hologram interview. Celebratory drinks all around -- Gobama. Fingers crossed for January 20.

Wednesday -- long night at church. Busy night, our first night having several of our junior highers at a special practice for our musical, so there were adjustments there. Meetings in the morning, lots of projects get put to the backburner in order to plan creatively for Wednesday nights. It's frustrating to me and I'm trying to work on a better balance.

Thursday I thought I had a meeting at night but dd not end up having one. Worked until 5 and came home.

Friday, my usual day off, had our monthly big event. We had a senior high lockin, by all reports a good success. The kids are really fun, it went well. I'm so tired from it though.

Saturday, Dan and I slept for most of the late morning and afternoon. We did some house cleaning and headed out to dinner with a group of my friends from college. Several of these girls and spouses we see from time to time (or regularly) but it's rare to be able to get so many of us together. It was a fun night with lots of laughter. Even better, Julie and Chris were in town for it and came back and stayed the night in our spare bedroom. It is so much fun to catch up with those two and I wish they lived closer. Such is life.

The boiler was not on in church today and it was cold. Confirmation until 3 and then cleaning up after that took awhile.

It's been a work-heavy weekend, but really a pretty good week, considering. I've built up a little grace so I can sleep in a bit tomorrow, I'm sure. Can it really be Monday again already?

Starting Off On The Right Foot

It feels like: spring today -- some sort of precipitation coupled with unseasonably warm temperatures created a balmy, damp atmosphere as I walked to work. Inhale it all in, because it is supposed to snow on Wednesday.

This weekend: Felt busier than it probably was. We had friends over for Halloween on Friday night. Amidst the handing out of candy and great talking among old and newer friends, we watched a classic: Scream. Parts of the movie still hold up and I remembered how thrilled and scared this movie made me when I was in highschool. We slept in (yay!) on Saturday and then met some of Dan's friends from work for a late lunch at Famous Dave's -- where I consumed some delicious brisket. We came home and relaxed for the rest of the night (I also did some homework). Sunday was a long day. I was at church until 2ish with a student leadership meeting. I left encouraged at the progress these kids are making in leadership and changing paradigms..but with a list of my own that I needed to work on. The rest of the night found us intermittantly working and relaxing. Delicious taco salad for dinner with homemade seasoning -- what an adventure.

This week: The constant grind of class and homework, which I am still enjoying. I'm voting tomorrow and we are watching the election with Matt. Wednesday finds me back in normal programming. Thursday I have a meeting at church. Friday night is our senior high lock-in...and Saturday night friends of mine from college are coming into town and staying the evening at our house. It's going to be a busy week, but full of good things (hopefully).

Today I really need to: Clean out my office and start work on my sermon. I'm preaching on the 23rd and in a small state of denial about it still. Also I need to finish studying for a test tonight.

Goal for the week: I started my day with some exercises and not sleeping in as much as I wanted to. I'd like to start each day like that this week. We'll see.

Pretty Much Sums It Up

I've been having some lucid dreams lately. Those, drifting into sleep where a thought becomes a scene but you can still wake up if your husband rolls over or the cats race up and down the hall dreams. Jesus talked to me in one of them last night. I mean, literally, he leaned out his chair and started yelling at me. Mostly just to get my attention. I'm still not sure what or how much to make of that. I only know that it happened.

I found another toe on Bean last night. We were cutting her nails, and it looked like one of the trimmings got stuck between her toes. I started picking it out and realized she had an additonal toe on one of her feet (front right, for those keeping track) which brings that paw's total up to 7. I love this little girl so much, but she's a freak.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this, Dan and I celebrated our one-year anniversary, I went up to camp, Dan's grandfather died and I caught a cold. It's been a busy week, okay? It's a rainy day which is usually perfect for some good attention-retaining work to be done, but today I'm all across the map. Scattered, tired, stuffy and emotionally spent. Thank goodness tomorrow is my Friday. <3

feeling welcomed

After being gone for about 36 hours, I felt a feline welcome home when I walked through the door yesterday afternoon. Ender jumped up from his sleeping perch, scurried over to where I was and gleefully allowed himself to be picked up. For the next 4 minutes or so he purred while clinging onto my shoulder with his claws, not wanting to be put down. In fact, if I made a motion to put him down, or adjust him, he tightened his grip and looked at me with mournful eyes. Sweet cat.

Just some assorted life updates:

-After having our amazing quarterback taken out for the season in the first game, the Curry6 are currently in first place (according to Dan) in our fantasy football league. Heck yes. We should have named the team "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing...."
-In the past week a/both cats have 1) peed on the papasan cushion 2) broken a lamp from IKEA and 3) barfed on the rug in the kitchen....the one spot where there's not tile and they picked the lighted patch of carpet they could find. I love them but damn, they're being cats this week.
-I started seminary. I really like it. I left feeling good about my schedule and classes and affirmed in my undergrad's preparation for my grad-level courses.
-I realized I'm an uber-nerd.
-We're going to a wedding this weekend.
-My parents come the next weekend (yay!).
-We are three weeks shy of our 1 year anniversary (and delicious Italian wine we can then open)
-Youth group is actually growing in size this year (and will probably shrink tomorrow since I said that).
-We're running again. This time for reals. And it keeps getting easier. Craziness.

So that's about it. Life is busy and good. Work is stressful but there are some real positive points to it at the moment. All positive notes except for the cat's destructive habits (which is typical). :)

permission granted

Making the decision meant my first real failure. Yes there have been misspoken words, missteps and minor mistakes made along the way of these first 2 years of youth ministry, but making the decision to dissolve this ministry meant, in my head, failure.

Not that I ever defined it that way until yesterday. But that's how it felt. A haunting feeling that unless I somehow forced everything into working order then somehow my viability as a youth minister was pulled into question. There was a lot of guilt. A lot of shut doors. A lot of fighting and praying on my part, on behalf of the program. And a lot of beating myself up over how it wasn't working out. Somehow it was my fault (in my head) that there weren't enough volunteers for this ministry and because there weren't, then I had failed.

Until Sunday night. Stomach in knots, anxiety running high while my self worth was plummeting. I was doing what Dan hates -- beating myself up mentally over something that's not important or not my fault. If I had been in first grade I would have faked a fever (something I never did) but because I'm 24 and not in first grade, I had to figure out how to be an adult and "make it work." That's when the realization hit me. I had done the best that I could do. I didn't have anything that should call my worth into question. Yes, it's sad that this specialized ministry won't be around this year and yes, I'm upset at how this makes me look professionally. But truly, in the end, I had done the best I could do...I can't make people volunteer. I was given permission to fail.

I was also able to see the heart of my anxieties as well. I was beating myself up because I assumed that would be what people would do over this (not literally, again -- not in first grade). But if anyone was going to call my abilities and worth into question, it had might as well be me! It's been a weird road to walk down these last few weeks. Usually things work out for me and everything moves along swimmingly. This is one of those rare instances where nothing worked and I really didn't know what to do. The question of course is, so what did you learn from this? We do try to learn things also to justify our failures, don't we? But I did learn. I learned to not be so intimidated when asking for volunteers, I learned a bit more about discerning what the real messages are (when everyone says that they'd love to volunteer but the timing isn't right...and your deacon starts talking about being realistic about the ministries we can sustain at this time in our life, well...you start to get the picture of what God's doing behind the scenes. Maybe.) And I learned to give myself some slack. I haven't felt anxious about this since that Sunday realization. With the permission to fail, my mood shifted and my heart felt lighter. I knew that was the right decision and that I am adult enough to deal with the consequences.

Youth group starts tonight with an entirely different take on things. We're adding in new people and being intentional about how we use others. New volunteers are re/joining our ranks. It's going to be a great night. This is the stuff that I love to do. And I am thankful.

New Kitten Pictures

Crossed-eyed in his favorite place...

Yup, Ender still loves hanging out in laundry baskets

Doesn't Bean make the most beautiful faces sometimes?



There's a lot of love here..

sitting still

hello fall

Hello beautiful cool fall weather that suddenly happened upon us on Tuesday afternoon. It's so lovely to go outside and feel some crisp air. Leaves are still green, flowers are still in bloom and there is still sweet corn from the in-laws in the fridge, but the air outside suggests the change of seasons that is happening all around us. And, while it will fluctuate, it gives me hope for invigorating days ahead.

Hello busy fall season. It's been a crazy week for Dan (first week of classes at Bethel) with many computer issues that need fixing. There are many reasons that I love and admire my husband, but this week I'm particularly awed by his visible peace under pressure and focus to get tasks done. It's been a demanding week and he probably deserves more comp time then he'll get for it...but I'm seriously proud of my husband this week.

Not that my week has been a walk in the park (and not that I want to complain about it). Fall needs are creeping up at church also. Welcome Sunday is in a few days and we launch youth group later that week. There's lots that needs to be done still, and mostly it feels farther away than it likely really is. I wish I could replicate some of Dan's ability to focus, but I know that my environment that I work in is prone to many distractions and last minute changes.

And me? At the moment, I'm sitting still. Calming my mind, trying to think clearly. There is much to be panicked about (at work and in general) and much to be excited about (at work and in general) but today I need to regroup. To sit still. To remember why I do what I do. To remember that I'm passing the two year mark at this job and start thinking about what the future holds (changes or more of the same or both). I'm looking forward to starting school in a few weeks and even though I think that I have a plan and know why I'm attending, I wouldn't be surprised if God shows up and plans are changed.

But mostly, lately, my life has felt like it is all about doing and reacting...and that I have been unable to reflect and think. So I'm sitting still. For just a moment. Giving myself a break before the day even begins. Because God shows up every day, I'm the one who gets too busy to notice. And God wants to be involved in my plans and I'm the one who thinks that I know what I'm doing and goes about it like it's all about me. And God talks and I'm deafening myself with the worries and concerns that are drowning out joy and peace...and I need to pause and to listen. So, today I'm starting slowly. I'm doing some reflecting, some slowing and some listening. Because, if not now...then when?

Feeling like a bum.
Having been gone for the past two weeks, I came home tired, blessed and craving adult conversation. I came home to a new computer (yay!) and a husband with a cold.

Enter Monday night.
Sore throat? Check.
Achy neck and head? Check.
Fatigue? Check.
Chills? Check.
Pushing myself too hard with no hope for a comp day for another two weeks?
...Check.

So, I feel like a bum. I'm sick (of course) and stressed with nary an extra moment to take care of myself or my husband. I spent the night relaxing (as much as I could) and will be going to bed in a few minutes. If I can hold out until Friday...there may be hope yet.

...More meaningful thoughts another day.

It's always the left eye. Fervent prayers before bed, "I already used my backup, I can't deal with this, please heal this eye...make it stop hurting." I know better than to bargain with God, so I merely promised myself an eye appointment sometime in the next month. Prayers still on my lips, I slipped off to sleep. I dreamed the most vividly real dream I have ever experienced. I dreamed that you were leaving me, that you were resolute and I couldn't stop sobbing in disbelief at my utterly complete heartbreak. Gasping for air I broke the dream's surface, shocked to be awake. Tears in real life flowed out of me at 5:30am and wouldn't stop for minutes on end. The relief of the dream's transience, the devestation that racked my body, the overwhelming need to roll over and find you still there, only to find an empty bed, still miles away from reassurance.

As the tears died down, the comfort of your love and the ring on my finger reassuring me, I hear a whisper in the back of my head. "Your eye has been completely washed out, cleaned by your salient tears." Speechless, I thought "thankyou" and wished that it didn't take quite so much to fix that issue.
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I've been biting back tears most of the day. I didn't sleep well the next 90 minutes, restlessly afraid to fall back into the same dream. It seems fitting to be talking about identity to these campers when it is such a question for me. I don't fit, my friendships are changing...and I don't know what to make of it. But as we sing about finding our rest in God, our hope and our salvation I well up with tears. Where is identity when you don't fit right anymore. Joining the ranks of the marrieds alters the playing field. I have to reassure myself of what I tell these campers, that there's something deeper, something truer and less transient. That there's something uniting us all, there's a deep love that I can tap into...and I know I am loved by my creator and rescuer. I am struck that God never ceases to bring me here without something for me to hear, without something to work out in my own heart. Truthfully, I'm nervous to go back to sleep, unsure of what the night will bring. I pray for reconciliation and reunion...I pray for sweet, sweet sleep...I pray.

all this motion, just to stay the same

Coming back here for me is akin to slipping on a pair of your favorite something. Well worn, soft in all the right places...and you know who you are in the clothes. They fit you, they stretched with you. I say that this camp is like my heart's second home, but it's more than just the camp -- it's these people. It's these people who I've grown up with, who know me for me, and it's easy. I know who I am here. And it's these kids -- kids I've known since they were 6, kids I met for the first time today. It's the rugged hospitality, the southern drawl, the encouragement and excitement at this rustic, simple camp. It's Jonesville, and driving by the trailers and civil war houses. It's the beauty of the landscape, the lush rolling hills and 87% humidity. It's the simplicity and barrenness of life, the struggle to survive and the safe haven that CMMBC presents. It's all of the cultural and contextual issues that go into creating this environment of poverty and abundant living that fall by the wayside as you love the kids IN THE MOMENT.

Why does this feel so much like home to me? I'm truly conscious of what's missing here (you) and the skip in my heart tells me that all would nearly be complete with you here. I wish I could share this with you. I wish you could see what I see, live what i'm living, feel this second home for me. I don't know why this place gets me this way, I only know that somehow, I'm doing what I love to do, with people I love doing that ministry with. I need to bring this heart place back to Saint Paul with me, I can't imagine leaving this peace behind. I can't imagine the peace that awaits me. I just can't imagine.

Reawakening

When it came to it, I couldn't remember when I stopped reading. Moreover, I couldn't remember why. Between the pages required for class, anything much beyond some devotional time in my Bible and some long familiar pages from Bill Bryson or To Kill A Mockingbird, the drive flicked out. Until this Christmas, when I intentionally asked for three books and read all of them over the next three months. Muscles and determination long fallow began to slowly flex their muscles again and in the past month I remembered how much I love to read. I mean, this passion has exploded in the vaccuum of a schedule too programmed and full to accomdate this renewed love.

I narrate to myself as I think, weaving words together that cause yearning for an implant in my brain to record my monologues. I wish I was being melodramatic, I wish I was exaggerating...but help me, they sound that good in my head. Conversely, my lack of time to put pen to paper or eyes to novel seems inconsequential...my dreams last night found me hunched over a desk, writing a novel. If it doesn't get done on this end, at least I can accomplish great things in my dreams.
----
Back from a great vacation. Lots of food, family and travels. There's a post brewing somewhere about slipping another's grandparents on like a comfortable sweater...but I'm not there yet. I only leave with these thoughts -- "you are the best one of the best ones...you have stolen my heart."

Members Only

Standing in line, ready to put our Discover card to good use, I turned to Dan and said "Having a membership at Sam's Club makes me feel like we are real adults." To which my dear husband laughed, nodded and said "You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"

Why, yes. Yes I am.

I also felt like a "real adult" going to the dealership and coming out with minimal repairs needed. A nice break from the bottomless hole in your gut of "please fix whatever is cheapest and can get me through until my next oil change/I get a raise/I total this car and have to purchase another. But it was, infact, the need for new tires with a vacation less than 48 hours away that prompted us to trek down the highway and apply at Sam's. I suppose that we are now officially "consumers*" complete with membership to a big lot, bulk packaged store.
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In other news, we head up to Michigan with Dan's parents tomorrow morning. This vacation feels well earned and much needed. In a bittersweet turn of a typical summer, this vacation also signifies the beginning of the end as far as my summer is concerned. I return on Sunday night, only to leave 4 days later. A trip where I will be gone for 8 days, and yes, leaving again 7 days later. Then two straight weeks of camps and trips...back to our Heroes in Training camp, which eats my days, then a 4 day break and we're off to the all-church retreat. Which brings me to the end of August. It's going to be fun, tiring, stressful and awesome.
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*It also feels very adult to have a membership to Sam's and not leave our first time there with a massive pile of things we don't need. A pair of running shorts, vaccuum, cat and bird food were all needed and reasonable. It's important to recognize the small things.

doubts

I have the opposite problem for tomorrow night's even then I had last week. Last week? An overabundance of leaders and 5 kids. This week? Not enough drivers. A welcome problem to have, but entirely too last minute for my nerves. Of course, tomorrow night may come and kids will forget and this stress will have passed along.

But, I'm sitting here and feeling increasingly stressed about finding a driver, knowing that the front end of my day is eaten up by meetings. And I'm doubting. Doubting that a rides will be figured out. Praying that prayer of the desperate "oh God oh God oh God...how is this going to work out?" And I'm realizing, when I place all of the emphasis on me figuring out the drivers I deny a larger power. I need to learn to trust, to trust that it will all work out. Not necessarily to trust that God will tie everything together for me, but I do trust that God is at work, and that I am empowered to make good calls and right decisions...and that I have been called to this position at this time. That is something to hope for, to remind myself to banish the doubts away.

what a weekend

Can it really be true that another weekend has come and gone already, only leaving me with work in the morning? Let's recap, shall we? I suspect that this was one of those so sweet weekends filled with everything and nothing.

Friday began with a meeting at work (I know, right?). From there I visited Dan at work and tried to decide if I wanted a cheap computer. After deciding that, no, $50 was too much to pay for that particular Mac, I gave Dan the scalding cup of coffee I brought him and headed home. I felt that the day was successful in that I found a way to our bank that doesn't require a jaunt on the highway. It seems trivial, but since I usually go midafternoon on a Friday, the highways are usually jammed with commuters trying to get up to the cabin before rush hour begins. This accomplishment is a success and I like that I am learning more about driving around in downtown St. Paul. I suppose that I should feel an accomplishment for celebrating 8 months of marriage (I figure everything is celebratory under a year), and I do. I'll take what I can get!

Saturday was filled with a trip to the farmer's market, a relaxing morning at home and then trekking off to Borders to hear David Sedaris read from his new book. Dan had told me that if I saw anything I should get it. I showed remarkable restraint and only found 3 books that I wanted. He really could have regretted those kind, kind instructions. A steak dinner and a walk to the Dairy Queen and much laundry rounded out our evening.

Sunday was a senior's graduation open house and the weather was beautiful. I didn't think that it would be outside (silly Kate) and am now, of course, sunburned. I'm the bearer of strange lines on my arm, but not my face. I did say a little prayer of thanks that I remembered my moisturizer with spf in it. Proof positive that a little preventative action is a good thing. We saw Kung Fu Panda with friends, played some Mario Party and ended the weekend watching MonsterQuest. Now, if you will excuse me. I have to brush my teeth and tuck myself in with "At Home In Mitford" (not one of the books I purchased, but I also came clean on my overdue library account this weekend and I am once again a patron in good standing. Go me!).

Onward to another week of time with amazing students. Summer is really and truly here.

tape sculptures

I saw the idea for tape sculptures a few months ago on Marko's blog. I knew that I wanted to try them out at some point, probably for a SWIFT. Check out one of our junior high group's creations:


It is in fact the torso of one of our boys and the leg of another's for a head. There were challenges in dealing with the attention span of junior high boys (the girls could have spent the entire evening working on this...just an observation, not a comment on gender in particular), but some of them really got into it. We covered kid's bodies with saran wrap and then layers upon layers of packing tape. We eventually stuffed the inside of them with some newspaper to give it some extra bulk before we took them to a park to photograph.

Other than that, May and the first week of June has been a complete blur. I'm digging out of my office after a hectic week following a week of vacation. More meaningful posts to follow, I think.

show off

I wish I had a video of Bean playing with some of her fuzzy balls. She reminds me of a cocky athlete who does a lot of extra stuff when they're doing something simple. You know, the basketball player who twirls around while they're dribbling, or football player who ducks and dodges blockers who aren't even there.

I like to think that she has an imagination and pretends that her fuzzy toys are sitting ducks, that she's not in the living room but she's somewhere where the extra leaps she makes are bounds over fallen trees, the excessive hiding is due to someone else competing for her prey. It is pretty amusing to watch her be so engrossed in her own little world, I wish I had a real glimpse into her reality.

The other day at work, I was struck by this strong, inner thought: "you are doing exactly what you were created to do." What that "what" is, I'm not sure. I'm fairly certain that walking down the hall in order to fetch a volley ball, even though that was my present activity, is not precisely what I was created to be. A few days later, I realized that I haven't checked the time to count down the minutes before I could leave work. It is interesting how when I've looked for opportunities to bail, affirmation keeps setting in.

Not that I'm looking for reasons to bail from this job, necessarily. I think that my restless tendencies are quite natural to who I am. There are few things that I settle in to, a handful of friendships, my marriage, purchasing a cat or two...some may argue that my ability to frequently wreck my cars (going on over a year in my current Honda) is proof that when I subconsciously get bored with something my insurance takes the hit. So, it is a little strange to me to not have too much to be restless with in my current job.

Not that my performance couldn't improve, or there aren't kids to be worried about, or staff dynamics aren't weird (when aren't they for anyone?)...but vocationally, things are fairly calm. I am confident (still, nearly two years later) that I am where I need to be and that I am doing what I was created to do. What that what is, I'm still figuring out. It must go deeper than youth ministry, I've always thought that this isn't my "Forever" (which would be a bit much, no?http://www.youtube.com/watch?)v=b4qwIi_1eMk) but it is a good place to be until the next burning bush moment comes along.

two dozen

Spring sprung yesterday. Somewhat fitting, that the most beautiful day this year would be on my birthday. As I sat on the front step last night, stuffed to the gills with yummy food and sweet love, I tilted my head back to breathe in the musky damp spring air -- thick with new life and growth. The night had barely a chill, and I peered through the front window, past the two cats curiously peering at their owner outside, looking in and wondering at the life lived inside that room. It looked like a good life, cozy, fairly clean. Beautiful teal walls, cute cats to cuddle with and I knew that in that moment, the people living in that house were lovely people, leading a wonderful life. All I could do was shed a tear at the beauty I saw, at the beauty I take for granted, at the beauty of life.

To all who made this weekend special, thank you. To the one I have shared now 3 birthdays with, I love you.

real. simple.

Most are not likely moved to tears by the presence of a magazine in their mailbox. And, if you know anything about me, you know that I wasn't either. But, if I was the person who was moved to tears with any regularity, then I can assure you that receiving Real Simple in the mail yesterday would have. Instead, I smiled really huge and opened my Valentine's Day gift.

Granted, a magazine subscription is not what most people would ask for when it comes to an occasion such as the big VDay. But, to me, it's a simple luxury that I wasn't expecting. When the two year subscription I had bought for myself at the end of college ran out (as in "we've sent you at least one more issue than we were supposed to in hopes that you'd change your mind and now this is really REALLY the last issue!") I figured that was the end of it. We've been trying to cut back, hold off on some unneeded expenses, and a 200+ page bimonthly tome giving instructions on living simply on a bloated budget seemed to pass the test of "unneeded."

But after a month or two of not getting it in the mail, I started to miss it. And I didn't really hide the fact either. But, when VDay started to roll around, Dan disappeared to the bedroom and came back with a check made out to Real Simple for a renewed subscription. Let me tell you, if you're going to go off of the gift list, let you stray in a way that takes you to the simple heart and soul of a gift like this.

Dan and I celebrated our 6 month anniversary on Sunday. Small victories in a world of arguments and breakups need to be celebrated. 6 months, basically still fairly happy with one another, is 6 months well spent. I look at him and am so happy we got married when we did (sorry mom, I know you wanted more than 4 months) and I can't picture it a different way. This is life. It's real and it's simple...without 200+ pages of bloated budgets. My rock, my clown and my love: my husband who I love more and more each day. I am so lucky to be living this life alongside you. I love you. <3

I'm in that phase of having to do what I don't like to do at work: project things onto a summer calendar. Trying to figure out what worked last year and what didn't. I'm decidedly trying to ensure that these dates are ones that we stick firm to in order to avoid some of the snafus from last year. Arranging those meetings is stressful and tiring. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels just to stay in place.

For the last month and a half, I've been attending worship planning meetings. I've enjoyed it, for the most part, and felt that it's using a different skill set and allowing me some creativity I don't get to tap into generally. Come the advent of the worhip design team and the role the worship pastor had wanted me to play on the worship planning team is being removed and I am now an "email your thoughts in" member of this design team. Does the change free me up, give me one less meeting a month (and less worship planning meetings) which allow me to focus on my role as youth minister? -- definately. Does it also feel somewhat like a slap in the face to be encouraged and then get assigned a lateral position that I don't really feel fits me? Yeah, definately. In any case, I'm still trying to discern how I feel about it. I'm mostly just wondering why they were so eager to have me be on the worship planning team if they knew this was coming down the pipe so soon (which it seems like the case).

All this to say, I'm at work. Trying to focus. Trying to plan. Trying for this to not be a huge pain in the neck (which I don't need, because all my stress already goes to my shoulders.) These last days of being 23, they are trying times.

a lonley bird cries
watch out! the snow is coming
April, you are cruel

Cats At Nap

Sprawld!

I like the stripes on this shot.

I am trying to sleep with my leg hiked up this far!

Sleepy kitty. You'd think that these were all that we talk about. Ever.

Guilty

Meetings

Is there myth to be found in the mundane nature of meetings? I still don't know. In the long term, huge scope of the beast -- yes. There is beauty in the Body coming together, sustaining and supporting a church (the Church) over months and years. In the nitty gritty 12 hour work day reality, there not so much beauty as there is annoyance, boredom, frustration and hope.

Then again, as I reflect on my past few hours this morning, perhaps this is why God exists outside of time. The beautiful drama of our lives plays out in the backdrop of the "big picture", it is seen when taken in context with other things. There is beauty in the small minutae, that is enhanced in the context of story and..well, context. The grace enters when God enters in to the minutae of our lives, into the mundane meetings and meets us in our beautiful, muddled existence.

Maybe it's a stretch. Yesterday was really long.

March's Final Huzzah

I peeked out my window this morning and wistfully thought to myself "If it was 10-15 degrees warmer this would be a thunderstorm." I could use a good thunderstorm, allowing the nature to wash the world and myself clean. Instead, it is coldish outside. And snowing.

Anywhere between 3-9 inches predicted.

March has lived up to it's Minnesota reputation: a snowy tease. Dumping snow and then melting off, snow and melt, snow and melt. Such is life. It would be too easy to focus on the snow and be wistful of warmer temperatures and springtime feelings. Instead, I am happy that flowers have not poked their gree heads above the soil yet. That this snow will, in the next few days (please?), melt away and replenish the ground with the water it needs.

March is indeed going out like a lamb -- fluffy and snowy white, we exit, to a hopeful spring and new month.

Dan wrote some very beautiful words here in reflection of my grandmother's funeral.
Take a look: http://makdan.blogspot.com/2008/03/funeral.html

the joys of cleaning out one's office

I've been finding many pleasant (and not so pleasant) surprises as I've spent the better part of the past two days cleaning and organizing my office. Spring cleaning and the arrival of a consultant are great motivators to get the hectic life I lead in here under control. And, in the chaos of the past 3 weeks, it was greatly needed (more than usual!).

Best find thus far: a bag of Chex Mix (basically my favorite salty snack) still crunchy in my snack drawer that I had forgotten about.
Most embarassing find: Petrified beef jerky in a different drawer. Which reminded me of when I first cleaned out the desk when I moved in and found (in September 2006) a can of Dr. Pepper that had been stashed in a file in my file cabinet and was clearly 2 years expired.

Joel drank it anyway.

I think that my issue is that I start out with the best of intentions and then forget about my filing system. I'm on the last drawer and just found a 2004 annual meeting report. I think I was unsure in 2006 if it needed to be kept. Today, I recycled it with confidence. And, if that isn't growth, then I'm not sure what is. Onward and upward!

funeral reflections

On the way home from the funeral, I spent some time thinking about the selfish injustices of my Grandmother's death. No 4-generation pictures, still sad that she couldn't come to the wedding, sad she didn't really meet Dan, sad for the futures in my family we will be unable to share with her, sad that I am without grandparents -- just sad. Yes, it was a life well lived, but one towards the end...I just wonder if her younger self would have been content with.

The ceremony was nice, it thundered when we were at the grave site. Struggling through the mud to get to the blue, plastic tent I found the most unconnected thoughts going through my head -- why are these funeral tents always blue? Are we sitting on top of Grandpa? Will I ever not think of that house as Grandma's?

Coming back to the house I will likely always think of as Grandma's house I saw that the crocuses and the tulips had begun to send their exploratory green shoots up and out of the earth -- sentinals to see if all was safe. I anted to tell them to be careful, that March always brings more snow, that life isn't fair and it is certainly too cold for them to bloom.

But, as much as my grandma would have hated that she was buried in the rain, I believe that she also would have known that those same rain drops were preparing the way for better things to come. That those flowers she enjoyed needed days of inconvenience to grow and to bloom.

Perhaps it is not so dissimilar to life. The unfairness of life makes way for proven character to net bigger and better results. Life is lived when we clasp on tight to inconveniences: falling in love, a sleeping kitten, labors at work, making time for a friend, smelling the wet earth during a rainy funeral. I can't help but wonder what new life may come from the passing of my grandma -- what will become of my little family? The funeral brought several Boonville ex-patriots and some native daughters together over bread anc cup. While we are an unholy bunch on the best of days, there was something sacred in the celebration of family and shared history.

When I go, I hope it is not convenient -- at least not conventionally. It is easy to gloss over the dark ethos of the deceased -- it is all together convenient to not reconcile yourself to the whole person. I was as gracious as possible to my grandma while still remaining truthful on some points. But for me, be honest about the good and the bad. Let them know Kate had doubts and issues never resolved, I could be selfish and lazy, that I often live in disappointment in myself (and to a lesser extent in others) because I hold myself to standards unattainable.
That I swore too much and often had the humor of an adolescent male. But, that when I loved, I did so unashamed and whole heartedly. That when I laughed, it was for keeps. That there was beauty true in my imperfections. Don't let my disposal be on any convenience - take a vacation and scatter me at home, at water, from the window of a car, in a place I loved and a place I have never been. Keep some of my with you. Let my body finally be free from this world that has chained me for so long. Let me be free. Utterly inconvenient. And as I am played to peace, may you find some of yourself as well. May you find some of that myth within yourself, even in something as mundane as a funeral.

now, about those clothes

Two papers. Finished. Checked. Emailed in. Out of my hands.

Feels good. Sneezing kittens around me who like to come in and visit and push the keys on my computer for me. Clicky clicky.

Hungry. I'm realizing that on my days off, home alone, I don't have normal eating patterns.
I'm basically okay with that, but question myself on it too. On the other hand, I did just spend the day writing two papers. I had forgotten how much mental power it takes to string together coherent words that aren't about me. :-D

Okay. Time to change out of Dan's sweatshirt and into some different clothes. Make some dinner. Do some laundry. But first, the clothes.

Good for the Heart, Good for the Soul

I've been listening to a bit of Derek Webb and David Crowder at work and in the car this week. Things don't usually move me to tears, I'm an easy crier, but not in ways that you would readily assume. A 94 year old woman's testimony in church? Moves my friends to tears, I stoically sit in the pew and appreciate her story. But, listening to Crowder sing "For the Glory of It All" as I drive through my east-side ghetto at sunset found my eyes welling up. There was something tenderly convicting. The refrain announcing "for the glory of it all, he came here, for the rescue of us all that we may live, after all our hands have wrought, he forgives, for the glory of it all..." The juxtaposition of grime, crime and snow with the sunset and words speaking of a greater presence, moved this hardened evangelical's heart to something softer.

Went to the dentist yesterday. No cavities. Healthy teeth. Found another baby tooth deep in the bone on the lower left jaw. Consistantly an overachiever. Thanks for those genes, Dad.

mood rings

Do you remember mood rings? The cheap ones that you could purchase at Claire's that usually turned your finger green around the band and were a better barometer for the circulation in your extremities than the actual mood of your person. Today, I found myself wishing, quite fervently, that I had a mood ring that would let me know before I got up what kind of day it was going to be. I think I would need an adult version of the colors. Something along the lines of:

• Blue: You are perfectly lovely today. You are pure sunshine. Speak freely as you choose.
• Red: Vah. Vah. Voom. Your 13 year old adolescent is in top snarky, innuedo-d form. Please enjoy but also be aware of your audience.
• Yellow: The stresses of life are making you extra weepy today. Please remember that your cats don't play mean out of spite but out of habit. Despite appearances, they are not actually out to get you.
• Green: You are reading too much into everything. Hold your mental tongue, don't take things too seriously. Hold you verbal tongue as well, while you're at it.
• Black: What appears to be a good start to the day crashes around your feet by your AM shower. Watch your tone and your actions. Hold your mental tongue but actually talk to those who are annoying you. The scary quiet thing has lost all charms. Be kind.

Reading these, they are actually half fortune cookie, half mood ring. But, in the interest of being transparent (modeled by my husband) I'm going to confess. My mood ring probably went to bed yellow last night, only to start the day off green and then take a quick U-Turn to black this morning.

In the group home setting I used to work in, we didn't talk about mood rings, per se, but we did look for triggers, for signs of an immenint meltdown with the girls. As I live in my situation, I find that it is all too easy to try and pinpoint triggers. And I could pinpoint them. Lots of transitions. Lots of typical oldest child behaviors (impossible standards for self, for starts). Lots of busyness, not enough rest for this introvert. But, and this is an important but, but it doesn't matter. Those things, they just let me off the hook. A hook that I hung myself up on when I didn't keep myself in check. I have the blessing of self awareness, I ought to know myself enough to know when I need to shut down and reboot. And today, I didn't. Did I need to overreact about the windows? No. Did I need to assume that he had assumed the worst about me? Again, no. In fact, shouldn't I be assuming that he assumes the best about me, in love? In fact, the question that is probably best: should I place my own issues on him ever, much less first thing on a Monday morning? No.

As I finished getting ready for work and walked across the black-iced-sheathed parking lot, my own self actualization took a deeper hold. My capability to be a bitch as well as a lovely person is astounding. I'm not proud, but I am more aware. This is, I know, part of living thoughtfully. It is not all beauty and flowers and creativity. It is being thoughtful in the times of the black mood ring, in the times of the snarky wounded sinner and revising how I cope, how I live, how I treat those I love the most. Living thoughtfully brings tears of shame and repentence, as well as tears of joy and laughter.

Where to from here? Ask for forgiveness. Cling to grace. Seek health. Repeat until death. Take the cat to the vet. Get a haircut on Friday. Keep breathing. Keep learning. Keep living.

But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.-James3

Lots of Pictures.

So. Things to update. We'll let pictures more or less do the work for us. We rearranged the living room. I love it. It was in the upper 20s and sunny today. I love that too.
Ender's favorite activity is watching the birds on the feeders. This is a picture from the first day we had them up. In this smaller feeder, we probably have to refill it every other day. The other one is less frequent as it is bigger. Squirrels are thrown from it repeatedly.
Cuddling with BlueBear is Ender's second favorite activity. And this is possibly one of my personal favorite pictures of the kitten. He was definitely hugging it. For cute.

We have a new resident in quarantine in the bedroom. Ender is still trying to figure out how he feels about her.
This is Bean. She loves feet. She is 14 weeks old, medium haired stray cat. She was found near a sewer drain and was found by a family who kept her overnight and brought her to the Saint Paul Human Society. I saw her online on Friday and pounced on it. Dan has always wanted a black kitten, she is wonderful. She's an odd cat, with 5 toes on her front paws. She is completely cute and was too playful to pause for pictures.

Spring? Is that you?

While the high for my part of the world today is a balmy 16 degrees (compared to the veritable icebox that the past few day's temperatures of between 1 and 6 degrees have been), I am looking forward to the forecast of the next week. Temps in the mid 20s to low 30s. And while I trust Minnesota to throw a raging blizzard our way sometime in mid-March to throw an Arctic wrench into the machinery, I still choose to hope. Spring? Is that you, knocking at the back door?

Seeking Cohesion

I don't like presenting blogs that aren't a unified whole in some way, shape or form (at least in my head), but in order to get thoughts down, here we are. Maybe someday I can expand and be more thoughtful. If anyone can spot an underlying theme, I'll give them a cookie.

And here we go:
-Had coffee with Vanessa yesterday. She's on a 4 day vacation in town so we had a chance to catch up and grab some Caribou time. What amazes me is how easy this friendship is now. What was, at one point, a friendship that seemed more forced by proximity (at least to me) has, as it has been given space, grown into a relationship where I find that there is true care and concern on both parts. We have been through three years of living together, something that at this point only one other person outside of family can say about me (and it's not my husband!). It would be easy to say that it's easy because we only see each other a handful of times a year at the moment, and there may be truth in that. But in reality, I think that we've grown up. We've come more and more into our own. And it's just easy. Not forced.

-I feel like the past few days have been a wash of new information and chances to learn about doing student ministry in an urban setting. I feel humbled by how much I am still learning, how much of what I am comfortable doing is within my context from growing up (white, middle class, suburban) and how my experiences at Bethel have prepared me for what is coming and what I am doing. We are all in this learning, learning from one another and trying to live out our calling. I have been convicted that we talk so much about where we are lacking and don't pay attention to the resources that we do have (particularly, male leaders and our location to local schools) and as such, we haven't used them as well as we should. Lots of thoughts percolating.

-In light of all of these thoughts, however, is my list of things that I really must do this week here at work. I'm trying to list out, intentionally, what I need to do during my work week. As a way of being more accountable to my time and the ministry's needs. I'm almost overwhelmed already. This is a busy season for all of us. I am also incredibly excited.

-We rearranged the living room this weekend. I really love it. It feels homier. If that's a word. Anyway. It hadn't been rearranged since the wedding, since Dan moved in. And really, that wasn't rearranging, that was fitting his things in as best we could. This was more collaborative and feels better.

-I'm working 3 out of 4 Mondays now. It's a different feel, well, the first hour of my work day has had a different feel. My Monday seems more like a Friday so far...but I know that things will pick up considerably. Speaking of which, my self-allotted time to blog this out has come to an end and I must really start my day. So I'll end with these three closing, short thoughts.

-I think that Christian is going to win Project Runway. And, the more I watch it, the more I think that Jillian is an alien. I wish she'd show some emotion. Or change her vocal frequencies. Something. Throw me a bone, Jillian!

-Lost blew my mind this week.

-Dan and I are going to the Matt Costa concert tonight. It's a combination birthday present, and Valentine's day dinner out. I'm really looking forward to it and hoping that Dan enjoys his gift.

-Why the heck does blogger let you use webdings as a formatting font option? It just doesn't make sense!?!?

roses are red, poems are read

In truth, this Valentines day has been just like the day before, and I anticipate, will be quite similar to the day I will have tomorrow. I'm not complaining or bemoaning the state of affairs. Dan and I exchanged gifts earlier this week (two more years of RealSimple. My not so subtle hints took hold!) and are going out to dinner this weekend. We enjoyed a simple night in and took in yet another exhilerating episode of Lost. I don't mind Valentines Day...as I lovingly remind Dan, Valentines Day likely single-handedly paid for my education and childhood. (And that other Hallmark inspired holiday -- Mother's Day.) Still. I like simple, heartfelt gestures and I felt that I missed the boat on partaking in some this year. I'll have to be more creative in the month's to come.

As I was driving I listened to a story on NPR interviewing Ted Kooser -- a former poet laureate. He used to write valentine poems and mail them to women (his wife is incredibly good natured). He recently collected the numerous Valentine Poems that he wrote over the years and published them in a volume. He shared one of my favorites and, if you are reading this far away, let it serve as my Valentine's wish to you -- to share in your company and share what you mean to me. He was inspired by a friend who was trying to get a girl to notice him, so he kept slipping flirtatious pieces of paper in her sweater pockets when she wasn't looking.

"Pocket Poem"
If this comes creased and creased again and soiled

as if I'd opened it a thousand times

to see if what I'd written here was right,

it's all because I looked too long for you

to put it in your pocket. Midnight says

the little gifts of loneliness come wrapped

by nervous fingers. What I wanted this

to say was that I want to be so close

that when you find it, it is warm from me.

Finches Feasting

Sometime in the last 24 hours the birds found one of our birdfeeders. Approximately 15 minutes later Ender found the finches. He is, of course, frustrated by the sink and window blocking him in.

This morning my dreams danced around, not really settling on a specific theme. Shapes and patterns shifted with every plaintive cry of the cat outside my door. My last dream was spring. A dark, rainy morning. I could smell the moisture in the air, feel it in my lungs, it was heavier, warmer. As my eyelids fluttered open, knowing it was 8 o'clock and that the sun should be out I grew foolishly hopeful at the darkness filtering in through the curtains.

"Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." Genesis 2:7

What would the man have been without the breath of God? Nameless? Without identity? Without proof of maker or foundation? Instead, man became a living being. It is the breath of God that sustains me, that moves me, that grows me. It is the breadth of God where I find grace, acceptance, mercy and identity. The breath and breadth of God move me through these final weeks of winter (5.5 more, if the gopher is to be believed) and into days where dampness and growth are breathable things. 40 days of movement toward the cross, denial of self, time of reflection. Spring.

I was stuck in Madison, WI at a Days Inn overnight. Bad weather combined with bad roads caused us to unanimously decide to get off as soon as possible. The particularly tense tone in Karen's voice motivated me to stop in at work to check in before heading across the parking lot and unloading the car. Big mistake. I hadn't had a moment to unclench from the previous 24 hours worth of tense and anxious moments. I don't know why I didn't expect it, I don't know why it surprised me as much as it did. After an amazing4 days of hope and dreaming about what ministry and church is and should be, to come back to reality's dark side. There is a spiritual current to all of this -- in the face of hope, doubt and anxiety tries to knock us over. Today, in this moment, I have to choose grace. I have to choose that people can be restored and are in the process of transformation. All of us. So I have to cut them some slack and pray for the same.

Okay. I have to finish unpacking and head back across the parking lot. Tensions high, teeth clench, white knuckle gripping on love and transformation to keep me warm.

Do I have it in me?

"And the problem is this, we were bought with a kiss
But the cheek still turned, even when it wasn't hit
And I don't know what to do with a love like that
And I don't know how to be a love like that
And all your love in the world is right here
Among us, hatred too
So we must choose what our hands will do
Where there is pain let there be grace
Where there is suffering bring serenity
For those afraid help them be brave
Where there is misery bring expectancy
And surely we can change, surely we can change something."
~dc*b

Change. Wrapped in it is so much baggage. Can I change? Can I become the person I long to be, can I grow from my limited place, my limited view of self and capabilities? Do I have it in me to change? Knowing full well that I don't. Knowing full well that the sort of change I long for comes from a love, from a place greater than myself. The question changes from "can I" to do I have it in me to open myself to that change? Do I have it in me to pray bigger, love harder, try more, cry harder, laugh deeper, care deeper, and in doing so open myself up to becoming the person I long to be where that love intersects? Do I have it in me to, as I open up one part of myself, know that my life will be wonderfully, irrevocably and utterly changed? Do I have it in me to choose light, to choose love, to choose truth and life? Do I have it in me to be open, to humbly admit that I can't do it on my own? Do I have it in me to explore what this even means, as I have no idea how to get to where I want to be, except to admit that I can't get there on my own.

God willing, I do. God willing, I choose grace, serenity, bravery and expectancy. God willing I must change.

survival

"Our problem is not that we ask for too much, but that we settle for too little." C.S. Lewis

Crossing the parking lot as I trekked to work today, the chilled wind chapped my cheeks. The sky maintained it's unpolished pewter luster, with the promise of snow on the horizon. "January is a month for survival" I thought to myself, ducking my head down and picking up my pace into the building.

Now, as I enjoy my coffee and take a quick break from my day, I'm reflecting on that statement. The truth is, in years past, January has been known for delivering me some substantial blows. Even last night, as I considered watching the first night of the American Idol auditions, I remembered where I was a year ago (sequestered by neighborhood unrest and recent car accidents at Dan's apartment) watching the same show. In my past, January has been a month to survive. February is the proverbial Thursday of the calendar (thank God it's Thursday, the weekend is almost here! Spring is in sight! It's merely a shortened month away, in word if not in actual temperature. And word can affect morale, for certain!), and January is that blasted hump-day Wednesday to get over to start breathing in that hope.

What occurs to me is what the word survive implies. Survive means to scrabble through until the end, clinging on for life by the shredded tips of your fingernails. It doesn't exactly bring thoughts of abundant living or beauty to mind. And I wondered, (in my best Carrie Bradshaw voiceover), has my difficult history with January caused me to choose to survive instead of thrive?

As the msuical RENT so beautifully puts it, "the opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation." Bringing something new and beautiful into this world, something better, is what will cause the tide to turn. Not hopes for peace, but active reconciliation through new life. Instead of hunkering down and dreaming of a better day (a better month?) maybe the best way to beat the January survival-itis's is to live in the reality that a better day is already upon us. A day of grace and beauty. Instead of lamenting creative force or healthy feelings, do things to foster those to well up in you again. Break the mold of coming home, eating a beige meal, doing something mindless and then going to sleep. Do something that excites me, that tires me out, that causes me to be engaged with what is going on. It's not any easier in January than it is in June or July, but it is possible. I choose to not settle for survival, I choose life.

Blank page. Mocking me.
You think you're interesting?
Well go on, prove it.

watch 'em and weep

I just don't get it. I mean, cognitively, yes, I get that a company will do anything to make a buck by catering to any demographic they can (and yes, I understand that these are two commercials catering to two different demographics). But, how these two commercials can both come (within a span of 1-2 months) from the same company just blows my mind. See for yourself:

In one commercial, we have a morbidly obese cartoon character who, in real life, would be considered one to have profound mental disabilities and potentially abusive to family and friends (I'm being leinient) peddling out "healthy food" (which, granted the sandwich is huge. But Subway time and again peddles the "we're the healthy choice" card. It's what it's know for and accepted as). He certainly is the picture of health (physical and otherwise), and good judgement, isn't he?



In the next commercial, a cheeseburger order preys on the internal fears of most women when faced with eating out and restaurant choices. The amount of emotional and physical baggage that Subway is trying to sell to women for eating a damn cheeseburger (probably similar to the same food that got Peter Griffin to his size) is a low blow. Nice shout out to Coke Zero at the end as well. Obviously loads of caffiene and baked chips a healthy, guilt-free meal make.



If the inundation of conflicting messages that women experience their entire lives (consciously or not) isn't a part of the reason why females (and many males) are so hung up about food, size and weight...then I don't know what is.

I should note. I like Family Guy. I think it's a funny show. Peter grates on my nerves most of the time, but as a whole I get and appreciate it. What I don't appreciate is his image and all that that entails trying to sell us "health" in one commercials (among many other things, communicating that for guys to look like that is okay and not questionable) when in a different commerical an already quite skinny woman is shamed and guilted about a cheeseburger. It's wrong and it makes me sad.

it's not a resolution...it's a resolve

Fact: Pre-wedding, Dan and I were on this "low-carb, modified South Beach"-type diet.
Fact: It worked. Between wedding stress and healthier choices, my wedding day found both of us at a lower, healthier weight. The proof is in the pudding (or lack thereof) (ie: comments and pictures).
Fact: The wedding came at a horrible intersection of season and celebration to continue such a routine. It's ludacris to think about carbs when you're getting married (or at your rehearsal dinner) (or a shower) (or bachelor/ette party) (or when you're family is in town). And after the wedding comes the honeymoon. And a week later, the reception in KS. And a month later, Thanksgiving. And after that there's more parties and Christmas, and New Year's and... see?
Fact: The diet went out the window somewhere around the first week of October. Approximately.

And, it's not that we've since gorged ourselves in butter and lard (who am I, Paula Deen?). But I notice a difference in how I feel, how I sleep, how things get processed through (Scrubs season 6: it all comes down to poo).

So, Dan and I have resolved (see, not a resolution) that we're getting back to healthier eating. Less carbs, more water, more green things on our plates, up the protein, less stress (me) and more sleep, etc. That, combined with a resolve to save some money (less debt, new computers, a house, a new kitten, fun trips and vacations, all being things that we'd like to see in the months and years to come) means that we're eating in more. And cooking for ourselves more. And being more creative.

Lately the idea of having a theology of eating, of the food that we consume keeps coming back to me. I'll share more of that as it comes to fruition, I'm not sure how it will play out or what that will mean for us. But, in the meantime, I'll share what we made for dinner tonight.

Thanks to Real Simple for the recipe: Bean and Sausage Stew
Heat 1 Tb of olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat. Add 1 13 oz. pkg. chicken sausage links, sliced 1/4 inch thick (we used sausage from our friendly neighborhood Target. Archer Farms has a tasty chicken Italian sausage that worked just great with this) and cook, without stirring, until browned (3 minutes or so). Turn, add 2 cloves of garlic (thinly sliced) and cook for 2 minutes more. Add beans (1 19 oz. can white beans, drained), broth (14oz of chicken broth), and tomatoes (14.5 oz can diced tomatoes, undrained). Increase heat to medium high and bring to simmer.

This is where we veered off from the intended recipe. RS originally called to use kale, which there wasn't any of at Target that day. So, we used spinach. Any dark, green vegetable would probably do. Whatever you use, tear it into large pieces, removing any stems that wouldn't cook down. Add it to the pan and cook (still stirring as needed) until it wilts. Remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper.

We think this would be equally tasty with onions in the mix as well. Quite delicious and Dan claims, it looks better than the picture in the magazine. High praise indeed. :)