Archive | October, 2011

guilty.

9 Oct
Did I purchase the entire Dawson’s Creek series on dvd?  
Guilty.
[Here’s hoping I still find the series entertaining as I did when I was in middle school.  I do love dvd on tv.  And in my defense, I don’t have cable/satellite and it was less than $50 for the whole bit.]
Did I cut corners while assembling a bookshelf?  Does it look a little sloppy?
Guilty.
Do I drink cough syrup directly from the bottle so as not to dirty that little measuring cup?
Guilty.
[Still sick.  Hacking lungs, headache, and all.]
Did I drive all the way to St.Paul last night to get my hair cut by Brent once again?
Guilty.
[He was puzzled by my previous cut but I think he fixed it.  I trust him.]
Will I be in bed by 10:30 tonight?
Guilty.
[Long week ahead.]

fun photos.

7 Oct
I went to the Blooming football game and stood next to this guy and his pocket friends.
I roasted a chicken with harvest vegetables and fresh thyme.  It’s decided that I love sweet potatoes. 

Jesus is My Coach.  I found these gems in a church supply catalog.  Because this is how I play sports – envisioning Jesus right next to me.  Jesus is cool, athletic, and a ball hog.

This is on the short pillar leading up to the parsonage.  I’m still not sure what word to use to describe its presence.

This is what Red Oak Grove looks like at night.  A cross on fire.  Begin debate of red cross now.  [This filtered photo can’t help but bring KKK thoughts to mind … terrible, Lindsay, terrible.]

excitement.

6 Oct
I’ve been at Red Oak Grove for officially a month.  I started with my first day in the office on September 6 and have been through emotions, introductions and lots of firsts.  There is much to be excited about here in the grove but, of the story I’m about to tell, much of this has primarily been focused here in my last week.
In the October newsletter and last week in the bulletin, I introduced a new approach to moving forward together in ministry.  Well, new to me and the congregation – not new to ministry or the greater church.  I propose that we meet in small groups – ideally no more than 12 people – in people’s homes for coffee, treats, and conversation.
These cottage meetings – spoken of highly in many my seminary courses – are safe places for members to speak about what’s exciting in the church, where the strengths of the congregation lie, and where they hope to be in the next ten, twenty, and 150 years.  I proposed these cottage meetings first to the council and I was met with … hesitancy.  They weren’t sure and were reluctant to give me a substantial go ahead.  
I struggle with the idea that I’m the sole pastor and have some sort of power.  I hate to even call it that – power – but ultimately, I’m in the place to make such decisions.  [Just like I’m in the place to buy Bibles for our three year olds … but just can’t get myself to spend the money without running it by someone else first.  That’s what I’m used to!]  And so I made the decision.  I was going to throw the idea of cottage meetings out to the congregation and see what happened.
In this last week, I’ve had three people contact me and tell me that they are willing to host a conversation! Yessss!  Three people plus another one at the parsonage [I’ll have to borrow folding chairs from the church!] and another potentially in the church fellowship hall, and there we have five possible meetings.  By golly gee, people seem to be on board.  This is exciting – super exciting!  I know these meetings will be invaluable to moving forward in ministry.
The next step is to put up sign up sheets so people can choose a cottage meeting that fits their schedule best.  From there, we meet, we talk, and we dream about the ministry at ROG.  I feel strongly that ROG has great gifts and is ready to move forward in ministry, trying new and innovative things to reach and draw people.  [They’re ready for new and exciting – they did just call their first ever female pastor!]  It’s an exciting time, and I’m excited to be their pastor.  

comfy clothes, tv & a beer.

6 Oct
Thursday is the new Friday.
Friday and Saturdays are my days off which means that come Thursday night I am so anxious to throw on the sweats, put in a movie [or a few episodes of a tv show] and be completely lazy.  By this point in the week, I’m so ready for it.
It was a good, terribly busy week.  It somehow sneaked past without me being able to do any home visits [which makes me feel guilty].  But I did meet with parents who are having their son baptized next Sunday.  I planned the confirmation year and met with those families.  Wednesday morning was spent with 100 WELCA woman from ROG and surrounding congregations.  I had dinner with the Blooming ministerium.  I spent this morning in Blooming hanging out at First Lutheran with Heidi and Charlie, the pastors there.  [Both of whom are AWESOME and will be great colleagues to have.  Heidi is fun and super helpful and Charlie is one of those pastoral presences that I could sit and talk with for hours and likely reveal my deepest darkest secrets.]  Then, from 3-9pm today I was off at a synod event, gaining energy around mission and stewardship, all while texting Paige who sat at the next table over.  [throw in worship planning, website design, mail sorting, and necessary conversations with Marilyn, it was a busy week indeed.]   
I arrived home at 9 tonight, took Mabel outside, and the sweatpants were donned.  I’m in an Irish mood so Leap Year is the movie of choice.  I might drink a beer and soak it all in tonight because, truth be told, tomorrow I’ll be working.  There’s a sermon, a visit, phone calls, and a Blooming homecoming football game to attend.  [What’s the Blooming Prairie mascot?  A flower.  They’re the Awesome Blossoms.  True story.]  All things that can’t wait until Sunday.  This is where that whole conversation about self-care comes into place and how terribly hard it is for pastors to ultimately take care of themselves.  
I tell myself I’ll take comp time next week but who are we kidding?  I’m having company next weekend [Luther homecoming bound!] so the sermon prep will need to be done early and time dedicated to the fall festival we’re hosting at ROG on Sunday afternoon.  It will be busy but it will also be good.  Welcome to ministry.

nothing much.

5 Oct
I don’t have much to say tonight except that it’s not even 10:30 and I’m exhausted.  

And Mabel ate a loaf of bread which I had figured was safely out of reach.  [figured incorrectly.  I was angry and she knew it.]  
And I really want to buy this … and think I might.  
And I’m on my third episode of McLeod’s Daughters tonight.  
And I’m drinking tea to hopefully nix an oncoming cold.  
And Marilyn brought bones to work today for Mabel.  [oh for cute]
And tomorrow is Thursday – a day pretty well booked with meetings – and I have yet to start on my sermon.  [goodbye weekend]
And that’s really it.  Nothing much.  ‘night ‘night.

*ahem*

4 Oct
Let’s clear the air here.  
Just because I’m a pastor does not mean I don’t drink beer or the occasional long island iced tea.  [mmm]
Because I’m a pastor does not mean I don’t ever swear.
Sometimes I don’t even want to go to church so don’t worry.  I’m not judging you when you’re not there.  You don’t need to make excuses to me.  Please, don’t make excuses.
I read things other than the Bible.  Actually, most things I read are not the Bible.  [Should I dwell more in Scripture?  Probably.]
Sometimes my shoes may be quite pointy and the heels a little high than what one would expect for clergy.  [“You don’t look like a pastor!”  I got that one last week.]
…
One of my greatest pet peeves of late are the comments I get in regards to these things.  Well, a pastor can’t say that.  Lindsay – you drink?!  But you’re a pastor!  
Nope, people, I’m a human being.  I don’t define you by your occupation/vocation so please don’t let this define me.  I feel called to do this and love what I do, but I’m no different than you.  A flawed, sinful person in need of God’s constant grace.
It’s a tricky thing but that’s where I’m landing right now.  Other clergy would fight me on it regarding the life we are called to live above reproach and whatnot.  But just verbally fight.  Pastors can’t throw punches.
[Right?  My point exactly.]

father & fruity friends.

3 Oct
This post is about two things that begin with the letter D – Dancing Bananas and Dad.
Today is my d-day.  Seven years ago my dad died.  It’s an evening that I can play over and over in my head, nearly minute by minute.  It feels like it was yesterday … and yet it feels like longer than seven years.  It can’t be described.
This date is burned in my head.  I mark it each year with a ritual of sorts.  I watch Back to the Future.  You well know by my consistent referencing that this is my favorite movie.  It happens to be a movie I grew up watching with my dad.  He liked it too.  [But not as much as The Shawshank Redemption.  That was his favorite and I’ll admit that I’ve never seen it.  Shame, I know.  *throw tomatoes here*]  And so Marty McFly and I spend some time together every October 3rd simply for ritual’s sake.  Today will be no exception.
Now for the fruity friends.  You also well know that the Dancing Bananas are the six of my closest friends.  Jenni, Kay, Kim, Krissy, Allison, and Lynn are my besties from high school and still we remain close.  We email regularly and it’s not uncommon for me to get a phone call a week from a few of them too.  There are emails going around today – emails in which they send me virtual hugs and share their favorite memories of my dad.  Here are a few of the memories that have been shared –

  • One Halloween in high school, I baked pumpkin cookies to take to my friends.  I ended up running late that morning and so my dad took to frosting them for me as I rushed to make it out the door in time.  Not only did he add the orange frosting, but he wrote my friends’ names in black frosting, one on each cookie.  [He had the neatest handwriting.]  He even put Mrs.Hoimt’s name on one cookie – my high school language arts teacher who had also been his teacher.  [And people wonder why I do weird things.  It’s in my blood.]
  • It was not uncommon when we drove past golf courses that my dad would lay on the horn just as people teed off.  How convenient that Highway 51 to Stoughton cuts right through Coachman’s 18 holes.
  • My dad was a farmer and pretty notorious for wearing work boots and shorts.  This made for amazing tan lines in the summer.  It often looked like he had white socks on when really, he was barefoot.
  • Krissy mentioned how my dad would often encourage us to do the things that my mom would ultimately disapprove of; she listed no specific examples but I can see this being true.  He was a trouble maker.
  • My dad was always willing to drive a bunch of high school girls to concerts, including Ricky Martin in Milwaukee.  We were crazy and I’m sure he knew this when he said yes to my plea; therefore, by default, he was also crazy for accepting such a task.  [I remember holding signs in the car and lots of screaming.  Oh my.]
The Bananas are so sweet and full of love to help me remember this day and hold me [virtually] through it.  My dad was always sweet and full of love too.  Be sweet and tell your family and your friends that you love them, folks.  Do it.

I’ve lost it.

3 Oct
Not my marbles.  My motivation.
Mondays are always hard.  Coming off a Sunday which tires the dickens out of me [even if it is only technically half a day of work], it’s hard to get back into the office and get work done.  Today is no exception.  I’ve been in the office for an hour and have nothing to show for it.  
But it’s not even that.  I feel like I’ve lost my drive.  Not necessarily in regards to church work but in regards to life.  My world is typically filled with do-it-yourself projects, crafts, and various goals that I’m working towards.  I like to be busy.  And yet, at the end of my days here, I find myself sitting on the couch and watching dvds.  I’m not sewing.  I’m not attempting to make friends with macaroons again.  I’m not running anymore.  I would do all three of those things in any one day while on internship.  What’s the difference?
I don’t know.  Maybe I need to give myself more space for the transition.  Be more patient with myself in this time.  But still, Lindsay, it’s been a month.  It might be time to just kick things into high gear and limit myself to one episode of McLeod’s Daughters a day.  [I do love television shows on dvd.  Last night Paige offered to share her wealth of tv on dvd with me until I get proper television.  I’d never heard of the Australian drama but I’ll admit, I’ll watch it.  I’m intrigued, even if the acting is slightly to overly corny and sometimes equally horrible.  Recent Amazon research indicates there were eight seasons of this drama that originally aired in the 90’s.  Trouble.]
Maybe I need a list of goals.  Much like the seasonal lists of my blogging past.  
Yes, this sounds like a good idea.
Today’s goal: Come up with list of goals.  
Stay tuned.

installation.

2 Oct
I was installed today.  Much like an appliance.  Or carpet and laminate flooring.
Installation – according to the congregation members who shook my hand following worship – means that I’m official now.  It’s real now.  I’m the pastor at Red Oak Grove.
Installation meant that Larry from the synod office came to preach and do the installation portion of the service.  It meant that the service was changed to 10am to better suit the dinner that followed.  It meant that I was extra nervous and that I was lucky to have visitors representing my happy places – Aunt Kari and Grandma Julie representing from Edgerton; Mark and Karen from Stillwater; C. and family from Dawson.  It was so wonderful to welcome guests to ROG and my home.  Mabel was quite excited to meet new friends too.
I received lots of “Congratulations!” [Is that what you say to a newly installed pastor?  No one really knows.]  “It’s official now!” was heard a lot.  Hugs and kisses on the hand from C. and his sister.  I got a “Congrats, kiddo!” [Kiddo?  Really?] and many “We’re glad you’re here!”  
I’m glad I’m here too.

mabel&i

2 Oct
I’m at Paige’s in Waseca as I type.  We ate burgers with avocado at The Boathouse and now I steal her internet as she watches The Amazing Race.  The show hasn’t started quite yet – 60 Minutes is doing a tribute to Andy Rooney.  He has very impressive eyebrows.  
I left my house to the whining and barking of Mabel.  As my Aunt Kari would put it, she has separation issues.  She does not like it when I leave.  She scratches at the door and then runs to the dining room window, puts her paws on the sill, and watches me walk away.  
It’s true.  When I’m home and in the house, she’ll follow me from room to room.  If she senses that I’ll be there for a while, she plops down on the floor.  Even when I cross from one side of the bedroom to the other, she’ll switch the side of the bed on which she plops depending upon where I am standing.  To the basement to do laundry and upstairs to brush my teeth she follows.
Needless to say, we’ve bonded.  I no longer question if I made a mistake and think we’ll get along swimmingly.  To the point where I have the tiniest degree of anxiety leaving her.  We tried to put her in a crate last night while Aunt Kari, Grandma Julie and I went out for dinner and to Target.  She was in when we left.  She was out when we returned.  Whelp.  As long as she continues to chew nothing, it will be okay that she’s not in there.  Just yipping and barking at the door when I leave.  *pulls on heart strings*
← Older Entries
Newer Entries →