Archive | April, 2011

a request.

6 Apr
There has been a request.  A request for a post.  A post about music.
Here is some musical insight into Lindsay, as well as an embarrassing story in bad taste.
I’ll be the first to admit that my taste in music in my high school days was pretty horrid at times.  After a steady diet of Garth Brooks and Reba McIntire throughout my early years [who gave Reba lip-sync “concerts” in the tobacco strip house with her playschool microphone?  this girl.], I went pop for a time … but not necessarily to the good stuff.  I won’t tell you how much money I paid to see Ricky Martin in concert my 9th grade year.  [Okay.  I will.  $80.]  I was in love with Ricky Martin ever since he sang ‘Copa de la Vida’ at the Grammy’s in, oh, 1999ish?
I was in the midst of my Spanish classes and I loved his Spanish albums from that point on.  I listened to him bunches, and then saw the Livin’ la Vida Loca tour in Milwaukee.  [I will maintain that his early Spanish albums are better than the English ones that followed.  Does that help my case at all?] My dad was such a good sport, toting four high school girls to the Bradley Center to see Ricky Martin.  [He didn’t actually attend but dropped us off and picked us up following.]  I think we even took signs that we held up to the car windows – “Ricky Martin bound!” and the like.  [ugh.  embarrassed.  the things we do when we’re 15.]  When I was at that point in my life, I probably would tell you that the concert was awesome.  I remember there was confetti and free Armani perfume samples.  Currently, I can’t say that Ricky Martin is on my playlist any too often.
It’s on days like this – sun shining, flip-flops on, and sitting outside on the patio of the Stillwater Public Library overlooking the flooded St. Croix river – that I wish the radio in my car worked.  I think there is no better sign of spring than country music and the windows down.  Even if it’s still a bit too cold, I’ll put the window down and the heat on to turn the music up louder.  Country music is ultimately my roots and my default.  
That’s not to say I didn’t go through a huge Lady Gaga phase while on internship.  Matchbox Twenty is probably my favorite of all time.  Josh Groban and Michael Buble rank pretty high.  Taylor Swift goes on repeat quite a bit lately.  I think Darius Rucker and the Zac Brown Band know me too well as every song seems to apply to my life.  Keith Urban is dreamy.  And I would pay more than $80 to see Snow Patrol in concert.  LOVE them.  Unfortunate for me that they’re based across the ocean.  [Nearly half of my “25 most played songs” playlist on iTunes are Snow Patrol.]  
I’m not too eclectic and pretty mainstream when it comes to what’s on my ipod, but I’m always up for suggestions to make me more musically hip like you.  Who is your favorite right now?  What should I listen to so we can become better friends?

a blog is a funny thing.

4 Apr
Can we just take a minute to talk about blogs?
They’re interesting creatures.  An online journal, forum, soapbox; it could be described in lots of way.  For me, it’s how I process my days, how I share my life with those I don’t see everyday, and a creative outlet.  I’ve always loved to write.  I was that dorky kid who loved writing research papers in middle school with all the notecards.  [color-coordinated, of course.]  I had more than one pen-pal, and throughout middle and high school, I actually wrote a sometimes monthly, sometimes quarterly newsletter for the Dancing Bananas, my close group of friends.  [For real.  It was called Update! and – if I may say so myself – my friends loved it.  Unfortunately – but also conveniently for blackmail purposes – I have no issues of Update! to share on this current computer.  Pretty sure most are saved on a hard disc.]  Perhaps all signs in my past lead to me being a dedicated blogger.  I wouldn’t have posted 34 times in the month of March alone if I didn’t love writing this.
Recap: It’s how I process, how I share my life, and how I engage in my passion for writing.
Additionally, it has helped me make friends.
Seriously.
A blog is a funny thing.
If we meet in person, I’m a pretty shy and guarded person right off the bat.  An introvert who is aware she can say some pretty dumb and awkward things [especially if you don’t know me], I usually keep my mouth shut.  It’s been crazy how I have discovered that certain people read this blog and suddenly, friendships begin to form.  I can’t quite pin it down but something about sharing of myself here, on this blog, allows me more open up further in person and it’s a great conversation starter.  If you already know things about me and, knowing that, haven’t declared me too weird or off my rocker, then let’s be friends. It’s been awesome this year to gain those friendships, and so good for my soul.  
That being said, I’m still not always certain who reads this.  [A fun example: Tammy, my office neighbor in Dawson, had mentioned that her brother reads my blog.  I don’t think I’d ever really met him until this past Saturday when I was at the musical.  Tammy and her family sat next to me.  As her brother scooted past to his seat, he bumped my arm and said, “I read your blog.”  Here’s a shout out to Terry; thanks for reading!] I’m not always sure why people visit this funny thing called a blog.  I ramble about my life and am humbled that people read it.  And enjoy it?  If you say so.  
That being said, I ask in the most polite and kind-hearted manner – Who are you?
I share my life with you.  I keep the blog updated with the ins and outs of my world, but that’s a pretty one-sided deal.  If we’re going to be friends, it needs to go two ways.  I think it would be awesome if you commented on this post or sent me an email [lmstolen at gmail dot com].  Introduce yourself. Let me know what’s going on in your world and I promise to respond.  [If I know you well, see you nearly everyday, or you’re a family member, you’re exempt from this request.  I would, however, still appreciate a life update.  Or a joke.  Or the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in your presence.  That could be a good post to come.]  Then I can better know who you are, we can hold hands, and skip into the sunset. 
I really think you should say hi.  Then we can be friends and do things like high-five each other.

[Speaking of blogs … I blogged here tonight too if you feel so inclined to take the energy to click the link and then have the energy to listen to my ramblings on coats.]

blessed to be a blessing.

3 Apr
*ahem*  My weekend story.
Once upon a Saturday morning, Lindsay drove south to a small country church for an interview.  [Not such a blessing: The iPhone car charger I bought the night before in anticipation of this long weekend traveling about Minnesota somehow blows a fuse in my car.  The radio, clock, and cigarette lighter worked for none of the ten hours I spent driving yesterday and today.  What worked overtime?  My brain.  And the voices in my head.  Not good.  This blog post?  Written mentally on the drive.  My one-page paper due tomorrow?  Not written on the drive.]  The interview went … well.  [Also well?  The fact that I discovered there is a Target AND a JoAnne Fabrics not ten minutes from where I would be living if I were to receive the call.  Score!]  I feel blessed to have reached this point and am so excited to begin doing ministry in a new place.  I’ll keep you posted!
From this small country church, I drove west and north to Dawson dearest.  [Four hours.  Did I mention no radio?]  There was a ticket and it had my name on it.  A seat was reserved for me to see the Dawson-Boyd High School production of Hairspray.  It was magnificent.  Hilarious.  [Enter any synonym for “awesome.”]  Those high schoolers and adults who participated both on stage and behind the scenes are blessed with incredible gifts.  Incredible.
I felt greatly blessed to return to Dawson and be greeted by so many friends.  I honestly cannot tell you how it ever happened.  I spent a year in this place and met some of the most wonderful people.  In that one year, they shared humor, confidence in me, hugs, and loads of love.  I love them to bits.  And miss them bunches. 
As I ran into friends in the rush that followed the end of the musical, I smiled so loudly.  I couldn’t stop as I saw people I didn’t expect to see and received/gave hug after hug.  I caught up briefly on Dawson lives, shared my own life update, and was the butt of [only a few] jokes.  The one that had me laughing the hardest?
     [discussing whether or not I’m going to worship at Grace the following day]
     Sam: You could go in disguise.
     Me: Hmm.  I didn’t bring any disguises.
     Mary:  You could not wear a cardigan.
     [hilarious.  and sadly true.  I had packed a cardigan for the next day.]
I was blessed by former coworkers who opened their home to me.  Again.  I was lucky to have a couch to sleep on in a house that feels like a home to me.  [I think that’s a compliment, Emily!  I hope you take it as such!]  After spending time there dog-sitting Abby, the mischievous lab who played many games with me this morning, and numerous late nights of dinner and wine, it feels completely comfortable and wonderful to return, if only for a short night.  
This morning I worshipped at Grace.  It was the first time I’d been back to the church and, actually, the first time I’d simply sat in the congregation and worshipped.  Kendall preached – after I had a red-faced introduction from the current intern as the returning intern – and it was all about blessing.  Paying attention to the blessings in our lives.  We have received blessings upon blessings, and with those, we bless back.  We bless with what God has given us; with what we have received, we bless others. 

This past weekend, I was so incredibly aware of blessings I have received.  [And then I came back and had to do homework and this group presentation meeting and became really crabby and I should probably apologize again and again to my group members.]  Many of the blessings I was again reminded of are faces, names, and arms that hug me again and again.  [Two examples of many: Custodian Keith.  He and his wife give me a hug when they first see me.  *mingle, mingle*  Keith and Gail are on their way out, and Keith wonders if he’ll see me in church the next day.  I told him I wasn’t quite sure, so he said he’d better give me another hug just in case.  He says, in reference to the staff at Grace, “We were a pretty tight group.”  Aww.  Yes, we were.  Second: A hug, quick conversation, and kiss on the hand from my five-year-old friend, C.]  I’m so incredibly blessed; here’s hoping I take those blessings and am a blessing to others.  Source: 24.media.tumblr.com via David on Pinterest 

In this new week, pay attention to the blessings in your life.  
What/who are they?  AND 
How are you a blessing to others?

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