"Did you learn anything?"

I must have passed Hermeneutics, because I found myself in my first OT501 class tonight: Genesis through Ruth. I typically adore the first day of class -- getting to know my professors, getting my syllabus and the verbal walk through of it...and getting a sense in my head for how the class is going to be. I can get a general idea of these things before class, but it really does take that first session for me to get my bearings.

However, as my professor began to outline the Bible -- basic book groupings, the TANAK, etc. I was taken back to my intro to Bible course. This first class ended up being a great refresher of some of those things that I learned in undergrad. I find myself holding that knowledge in tension -- knowing that I've got a good and solid foundation for my studies at seminary, but also knowing that I can't be cocky because there is a lot that I don't know.

On the other hand, I'm in a Spiritual Formation class -- one that I think will clench for me by the end whether or not Marriage and Family Therapy is a legitimate path for me to consider. It's completely like (in the best possible sense) and completely UNlike (again, in the best possible sense) the spiritual formation class that Yomi's took (so, basically Jess and Dan will know what I mean when I say that this is the anti-Sherry Mortenson formation class).

They placed us in small groups of 4 for the next 9 weeks. And whaddaya know -- I'm in a group with my least.favorite.person.in.the.class. I had to consciously uncross my arms and make sure that I wasn't unconsciously throwing out some hostile body language. You think God's up to something there?

Boundaries part one

I have a few boundaries to keep my life more sane than naught. Hey, a girl's got to have some sort of balance when she lives a stone's throw (literally) from her first and second place (work and other place where I am known...school is quickly becoming my third. There go my hopes and dreams to have a Cheers or Central Perk to call my own. Le sigh, maybe someday.)

Anyway. Boundaries. Part one. I don't check my work email after 8p. Okay, okay, let's be real. Most days it's 8p...some days I get curious and it's more like 10p. But what I've learned about myself is: if I read an email late at night, there's probably no cure for the anxiety it will cause. No one else is reading their email so late at night (well, likely no one who is sending me anxiety-inducing emails, at least), so there's nothing I can do about it. My boundary? If I don't read it, I can't be anxious about it. I can be curious (as I just was this VERY minute) but I'd rather be curious and put it off until tomorrow than wreck a perfectly good bedtime routine and sleepy state with anxiety inducing email that I can do nothin about.

Rambly? Yes. Too much self-disclosure about my fragile psyche that can be wrecked the feather weight of an ambiguous email? Perhaps. Boundaries maintained? Indeed. And goodnight blogland.

Tuesday Cat Blogging

You'll notice that in this picture Ender is looking at my slow cooker (red crockpot) contemplating whether or not he's going to jump on the counter.

It's inevitable that he's going to jump on the counter, because there is ham in the slow cooker. Like the dogs (and father) in "A Christmas Story" were to turkey, Ender is to ham. I think that he'll just lust after it all day, but a part of me wonders if he'll try to knock over the cooker while I'm gone at work just to try and get at it. We will see what happens. Oh, and while we're at it -- here's some more cute pictures of them...




And while this isn't cat blogging, you'll see our table spread for Valentine's day just pre-steak. Yum.

"Mexico" -- Jump Little Children

Despite the half unpacked boxes strewn across the living room, the house seems impossibly big for her. Cooling evening air after a warm, sunny August day on the heals of a day of pouring rain. Damp air mixing with the dry breeze ruffles the flyaways around her face. Does the house seem so big and empty because her possessions seem too few to fill a house (they barely filled half of an apartment!) or because the task of unpacking and finding new niches for everything is so enormous, monumental, permanent? There is one couch facing the hyacinth bushes outside the windows. A hand-me-down end table matches the hand-me-down couch and the hand-me-down everything else. Does it seem so large because none of it seems like it belongs with her yet? Too many hand-me-downs still stinking of former owners. This place is still too much of a house, and not yet a home.

Perhaps it's the delicious unknown in front of her. Not just the job and the future, but him. Her body thrums with anticipation, fear and relief. The questions that have been cowering in corners, wall flowers in her mind too shy in the light of new horizons and possibilities to show their face or make too much of a fuss until now. Questions that, while wallflowers, have been constant companions, keeping her company along the pathways of discovery.

A deep breath of the warm air reminds her that it is not quite yet time for the first dance. There is unpacking and adjusting still to happen. Simple things like breathing and forward motion seem too terribly mundane in the face of this sweet anticipation. But until then, she pushes herself forward, glances toward the street a constant syncopation to the steady rhythm of the music.