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new goal.

2 Apr
Flirt with the parking ramp guy at Mayo in Rochester.
I’ve been back and forth to St.Mary’s a lot in the last weeks.  Lots of people in the hospital for long periods of time.  It’s about an hour drive there; another hour back.  [huh. funny how that works.]  On the way there, I typically blast music and lose myself in the cornfields.  [not literally.]  On the way back, I write blog posts in my head.  But I digress.
Parking ramp guy.  St. Mary’s.  Flirt.  Right.
The last couple times I’ve been to the hospital, it’s been the same guy working in the booth where I hand over my ticket and he presses the magic button that raises the possessive arm so I can leave.  He’s in his 20s [I don’t trust myself to single it out any further than that.] and wears his little parking ramp vest.  Oh, the vest.  I’m not saying I really like him or anything; I’m just saying it might make going to Rochester a little more of adventure.  
Today I pulled up and he said, “Hey.  How’s it going?”  It was no how you doin’ all Joey style but it was the most we’ve ever spoken.  [whoa.  is that a sign?  #thingswomensay]  I do wonder if I can use Friends as my basis for flirting.  Phoebe, the masseuse, feet flirts with a client.  She knows that as she is giving him a massage, the only part of her body he sees is her feet.  She paints her nails, wears toe rings, etc.  She’s smart.
So let’s think about this – how does one car flirt?  I could write flirty messages on my parking ramp ticket but that seems a little much.  Display my gnomes more prominently on my dash?  That’s probably a little creepy and very much like voluntarily flying a giant red flag for him to see.   And that’s it. I’m out of ideas.  I guess mr.parking-ramp-attendant and I aren’t meant to be together.  [not that I ever thought we were.]
For hopeless.  [you don’t even know the half of the for hopeless.]
I hope you realize this is all an incredibly long and drawn-out joke.  Pastor Lindsay doesn’t flirt.  psssh.  Don’t be so silly.  
But if you have any more ideas for brilliant car flirting in a thirty second window of time, let me know. Really.  It will be a great social experiment.

Dear Isabelle,

27 Mar
I know we haven’t met but I wanted to thank you.  When I got home after a morning of Holy Week worship planning with jD at the local lunch cafe in Blooming and heard your message on my home answering machine, I was so happy.  I told you that you were the bright spot in my day!  It was no lie.
I called you back right away.  I had just heated up my turkey taco chili from the freezer and I just left it sit in the microwave.  Soup wasn’t important.  Calling you was my first priority.
Then, on the phone, you were so kind and helpful.  We set up an appointment and you shared that charming story about how it all came to be.  Daniel, your boss, told you to call the pastor at Red Oak Grove.  What’s his name? you asked in reply.  Her name, said Daniel.  And then we both chuckled on the phone like old friends.
I don’t know that we’ll actually ever meet.  Heck, I don’t even know your last name.  But the fact that it was you who set up the appointment for Red Oak Grove puts you on the good list in my book.  Thank you, Isabelle, for calling me and scheduling that magical time when Daniel will come to the church and parsonage on Wednesday, April 11th to install internet.  It’s been a long time coming and I thank you.
Forever yours,
Pastor Lindsay

tales of a college crush.

12 Mar
Jake was a college classmate of mine.  We were both in the religion department at Luther and we actually went abroad during Jterm together on a school-sponsored trip.  We had fun in Greece and Turkey* with other awesome students and he borrowed my Maroon Five cd.  [It was 2005 – we traveled with personal cd players and lots of batteries.  AND my camera had film.] 
Truth is I thought Jake was the bee’s knees in college and I had a bit of a crush on him.  I still remember the day he walked into a religion class we had together with Melanie Johnson-DeBaufre [the most awesome prof and travel guide ever] and he came to where I was sitting.  “Is anyone sitting here?” he asked about the desk next to me.  “No.”  “Can it be me?” was his slick reply.  I think I blushed all day.  
Anyways, that crush is long in the past and so I figured, well, why not tell the interweb?  If it ever gets back to Jake, maybe he’ll just be flattered.  Or he’ll think it’s really awkward.  Either way, I promise I’m not a stalker, nor was I ever.  pinky swear  I just thought he was adorable and awesome.  [And I’m sure his wife agrees.]
What’s the point of all this?  Jake was recently diagnosed with hodgkin lymphoma.  [whoa.]  Jake is an avid blogger, tweeter, and now he aims to create a documentary of this journey through treatment and recovery.  Check out the kickstarter page here which explains the project and also links to his blog.  Send prayers and happy thoughts his way and add his blog to your feed reader.  [Not that he needs me to promote his blog.  He doesn’t.  He’s like Mr.Blogger with lots more klout than I’ll ever have.  But add his blog to your reader for your own sake.]  I admire the way in which he is facing this challenge, inviting other to come alongside, and sharing his experience for the benefit of others.  Admirable and couragous for sure.  
* Want to know a bit more about this Jterm trip?  We went to a soccer game at the Olympic stadium in Athens, saw so many impressive monoliths and columns, roamed the grand bazaar in Istanbul, went to the springs at Pamukkale, smoked a hookah, and – wait for it – were flipped off by Dave Chapelle outside the Blue Mosque.  It’s true – you can’t make that up.

women in ministry.

7 Mar
Last spring, I took a course called Women in Ministry.   Taught by the always stylish and super awesome Karoline Lewis, it was a full classroom of women with a few token guys talking about what it means to be women in ministry.  Well, lo and behold, Professor Lewis asked me – along with two other female classmates of mine – to come back and be on a panel of women in ministry for one class session of this semester’s course!  
I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to say this past Tuesday at 9:30am in Northwestern 230.  I’m six months into my first call.  I wasn’t sure that I had much experience to speak of or much advice to give but I went, a bit nervous.  Plus, remember how I normally don’t talk in class?  I went … and it was pretty engaging and fun.
Those of us on the panel introduced ourselves and then the class asked us questions.  We talked about wardrobe and mentors.  We talked about safety … and it was in that part of the conversation that one woman said to me, “If I were you, I’d be scared at night in that big parsonage of yours!”  [It was like she gave me permission.  I do get scared.]  We talked about balancing work and life and rest and self-care.  We talked about the comments we receive about how we dress/how we look that men would likely never hear.  [I’ve heard little comments on and off again in my time here but I found it really interesting how next week in their class they are talking about how those little comments add up to their own form of sexism.]  
Super fun and refreshing.  It was fun to see how far I’ve come in a year; last year, it was me in those chairs as a student.  Fun to reflect on my own experiences and use my experiences to … help others?  Yes.    Also just super awesome to remember that I’m not alone in this.  

another visitor!

7 Mar
Emma came to visit!  She is on spring break and decided to make the trek westward.  It’s a week of family sleepovers for this pastor!
While Emma was here we watched much How I Met Your Mother, laughed at Mabel, ate lunch at Muffaletta’s [just down the road from seminary], loved on Ryan Gosling in Lars and the Real Girl, and did a little city shopping.  [more about why we were in the cities to come.]
While we were in the cities, we went to a cake/candy supply store.  I’m on the search for a new candy coating; I’ve had enough of failed Wilton bags.  The supply store had the Merckens brand for which I was searching; we picked up a bag and put it to the test that night.  The verdict?  They are a dream compared to Wiltons!  I will pay the extra money for the beauty of it all.  My cakepop life has been reinvented and reinvigorated.  
What else did we find at the cake/candy supply store?  A gum paste baby, as pictured below.  Super weird, right?  Super weird.  Emma suggested I buy it and send it to cousin, Connor, as sending him baby doll bits is a tradition but I thought this might cross the creepy line.  [I do have a line.  I try not to cross it.]

oscar par-tay!

27 Feb
We walked the red carpet, ate lovely enchiladas, and filled out our own Oscar ballots to guess the winners.  There was costume jewelry, a date in a suit, curly straws, and general merriment.  Here’s a photo summary of the night that was:

long-distance relationships.

18 Feb
You well know that Brentt [hair stylist] and I have been doing things long distance the last couple month.  [The I-call-him-when-I-need-him-sort-of-thing.]
Well, as anyone who has been in a long-distance relationship [with their hair stylist] can attest, it’s hard.  It’s really hard.  I’m beginning to understand why long distance simply doesn’t work [for my head of hair].    It’s hard to find the time to dedicate going to visit him and … well …
I cheated on him.  On Thursday, I had a date [an appointment] with someone else.  It was closer and more convenient.  Don’t give me that look – I wasn’t happy about it either.
I regret it already.
First of all, it wasn’t nearly as welcoming or awesome as Brentt.  I walked in and no one – NO ONE – said a word to me.  So I just sat down in the waiting area and waited for them to acknowledge me.  I was not offered coffee [Apparently every other customer was offered coffee.  I probably wouldn’t have drank it anyways.  Dumb coffee at the stupid salon.] and I was told to take off my coat … but wasn’t directed where to put it.  [When I have dates, err, appointments with Brent, my coat is always whisked away and then he helps me put it back on at the end of our time together.]
And Brentt.  Oh, Brentt.  He’s such a good listener [about the kind of cut I want].  On Thursday, I wasn’t listened to at all.  I told her I liked my hair big.  Five minutes later, she’s telling me that way she’s going to cut my hair will minimize the big-ness of short curly hair.  And Brentt takes the towel and dries the inside of my ears.  sigh  I guess that just a Brentt thing.  Not every [hair stylist to customer] relationship is the same.
New stylist: Do you ever flat iron?
Me: Not anymore.  I like it curly.  I’ve embraced the curls.
Yes, that conversation happened.  And wouldn’t you know, without even asking [Brentt would have asked] she styled my hair straight.  If listening is a key component to relationships, I don’t see this one going any further. 
Sure, I pay Brentt a lot of money to be with me [and play with my hair, dry the inside of my ears and offer me coffee] but I think what you pay for is what you get.  [Ah, the golden rule to every relationship.]  On Thursday, as I paid at the desk with my card, the lady handed back my receipt to sign and I asked, “Can I not add a tip to this?”  Her response? “I could of if you had told me before.”  Awesome.  Well I didn’t know because she never asked … and all I had was a $5 bill in my wallet.  I handed that over and she said, “Thank you.  That’s very generous of you.”
A $5 tip on a $20 crappy haircut?  Only Brentt deserves so much of my affection and appreciation [as shown through money from one customer to her gay hair stylist].  

Dancing Bananas.

4 Dec
It’s just a fruit.
And it’s a little ridiculous to think that they can dance.
The Dancing Bananas are facing trials and tribulations by the bushel basket these days.
Surgeries. 
Child custody.
Job uncertainty.
Fertility wonderings.
Questions about the future.
Potential moves cross country.
Aggressive cancer in a father-in-law.
Searching for answers to medical conditions.
It’s a lot.  So much.  The emails are nearly daily at this point with communication, support, and funny stories in the midst of it all.  The seven of us currently live in five different states and it’s been nearly ten years since we graduated from high school.
I’m not completely sure what holds us together and so tightly.  Maybe it’s the fact that you don’t often find bananas that dance.  We’re rare and find comfort in being odd together.  Or that we love each other and have been friends for over twenty years.
The bananas of the world are meant to unite, jump, dance, and go.  And so we do, along with support, hug, and love.  Early morning phone calls, cake pop care packages, and anything more.  I love my Dancing Bananas.

Sunday.

20 Nov
Sunday.  Sunday.  Sunday.
Church at 9am.  I started with a joke today.  It felt right.
[Dear Noah,
We swear you said the ark wasn’t leaving until 1.
Sincerely,
The unicorns]
Har.  Har.  Har.
Then I challenged the congregation to share the peace without touching each other.  They weren’t allowed to shake hands.  They thought it was cute but it was probably the novelty of it.  I don’t think they’ll think it’s cute next week.
Then hello sermon number two.  I had to preach this evening at an ecumenical [read: Lutherans and Catholics] Thanksgiving service.  To heck if I was able to write it while still thinking about my Sunday morning service.  It’s not how I work, folks.
Sermon writing intermission: Mabel and I walked out to the dumpster to throw something out.  I opened the lid of the dumpster and a terrified cat jumped out.  Mabel chased it and treed it.
Print sermon.  Smell something foul.  Find Mabel had gone number two on the hardwood floor of a spare bedroom.  That’s a first.  [And hopefully a last.]
Paige and I had a date to meet at 4pm at one of jD’s church.  It’s church dinner season in Minnesota, donchaknow, and Aurora Lutheran was hosting an oyster stew and chili supper.  We had kept it a secret that we would be attending and surprised the bowtied pastor at the door.  He convinced me I wanted to pay two extra dollars to try the oyster stew.  I tried.  And soon traded the bowl in for chili instead.
From there [and after requesting that our server tell Lauren in the kitchen that we were highly unsatisfied with our food to get her attention – the perfect ploy] I drove to Blooming to prepare for this Thanksgiving service and the preaching of the sermon I was really unsure about.  Lo and behold, it proved true again that any sermon I think is terrible is the one I receive the most positive feedback.  [Unless of course everyone was just super nice to the new girl.  That is also possible.  Pity compliments are always a possibility.]
Long Sunday, folks.  Long Sunday.  A long Sunday to be followed by three long days of busy, busy work in order to prepare to take off for Wisconsin on Thursday for a couple days.  Here we go.
[You can be the judge yourself.  Below is the sermon I thought was mediocre but highly complimented by others.  Pity praise?  You decide or can jump on the boat of pity.]  [It’s a joke, folks,  I’m not really that down on myself or think that everything said to me is a lie through other’s teeth.]
What do you see?  It’s like that popular children’s book Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see? The book goes through different animals of different colors, teaching children about animals and colors and patterns.  Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see?  I see a red bird looking at me.  Red bird, red bird, what do you see?  I see a blue horse looking at me.  And the pattern continues.  Maybe I should ask you –  people of God, people of God, what do you see?  We likely haven’t seen any blue horses lately so our answers would be much different than the book.  And I would add a second question on the next page – What do you do when you see?
It kind of goes without saying that what we see makes all the difference.  What we see shapes our outlook and our behavior.  If we see snow on the ground outside, we put on our boots.  If we see someone crying, we comfort them.  If we see the stoplight turn yellow ahead of us, we use the brakes on our car.  And if we saw a blue horse like the one in the children’s story, we might be speechless.
What we see makes all the difference.  People who wear glasses know this.  People who have been subject to unfortunate eyesight loss know this.  I wear contacts during the day and so, come night, I take them out and put on my glasses.  I go to bed, putting my glasses on my beside table.  Always in the same place.  One morning, I woke up, grabbed my glasses, put them on, and went about my morning.  I turned on the light in my bedroom and turned on my computer.  Something wasn’t quite right.  Was the light not working properly?  It seemed awfully dark in my bedroom.  And my computer screen was hard to read.  I blinked over and over, leaned in closer to the desk and realized my eyesight was terrible.  Why couldn’t I see?  What we see makes all the difference and at this point, I couldn’t see like I should be able to and my behavior reflected that.  I became a bit crazy, a bit fearful, wondering what could be going on.  I took off my glasses thinking, maybe, just maybe, they were really dirty and needed to be cleaned.  In my morning fog, my still half-awake state of mind, I pulled off … my non-prescription sunglasses.  They weren’t the right glasses at all.  What we see makes all the difference.
In verse 14 of our gospel reading, Jesus sees the lepers who call out to him.  And when he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’  In these times, if a leper was healed, it was a priest who had to certify that the person was clean once again before they could become a part of the community once more.  And as the lepers went as Jesus said to them, they were made clean.  Jesus saw a need and acted to meet it. 
Likewise, then one of the lepers sawthat he was healed and turned back.  Because he saw that he was healed, he praised God and thanked Jesus.  What the leper saw affected his behavior.  When the leper saw that he was healed, he didn’t just celebrate his good fortune on his own or with the other nine, but turned around with gratefulness. 

In both [of these] cases, seeing means more than just physical sight – it means on the one hand perceiving the opportunity to be merciful toward another, and on the other hand the recognition that God’s mercy has touched one’s life.

It’s not only what you see but it is what you do when you see. 

When Jesus saw people in need, when he saw people on the outside, he acted.  Jesus restored them to fullness.  With the healing Jesus pronounced upon the ten, those ten lepers would no longer need to live outside of the community.  Those ten lepers would no longer need to cry out, “Unclean, unclean” if someone were to approach them.  Christ invites them into a wholeness of life once more, into a lifemuch unlike the one they were forced to live before.  And the one who returned recognized the mercy of God that had touched him and made him clean; for that, he was grateful.

Seeing can make all the difference. What do you see?  Make sure you are not wearing your sunglasses instead of your prescription lenses and take account of what’s around you.  It’s not even always about what we see – it’s what we feel, touch, and smell.  Are you aware of what goes on around you?
Take account of the people around and the needs that are present in our lives and the lives of our neighbors.  Jesus saw the need of the lepers – people cast outside because of a disease.  What needs do you see?  What do you perceive about the world around you?  Around us?
Let’s take our community of Blooming Prairie as context.  Some people might guess that the needs in our community are small.  Blooming is a small and proud community; the kind where people know people and directions are given by landmarks instead of street addresses.  Yet, there are still needs present in this community and in communities around us.  It’s true that sometimes people in need simply do not catch our attention. A coworker we label as crabby may be struggling with a difficult family situation, and we might learn that if only we ask. Who notices an international student far from home and family, or the person separated from family during the holidays? Other times, we simply pass by people whose lives are a day-to-day struggle to survive. There are people who need care, families who need help, and people who may simply need to feel that they are loved.
Remembering also the tenth leper who returned to give thanks once he saw he was healed, let’s touch on his reaction to what he saw.  There’s this second part of seeing and acting present in the text.  What do you see for which you can give thanks?  How do we live grateful lives in response to how we see God is working in and through us?  In this season of thanksgiving, we focus on the gratitude piece.  I asked the confirmation students at Red Oak Grove to put together a wall of thankfulness.  Everything from friends to pets to family to music to chores showed up on their lists.  I would wonder what you see each and every day – this season and throughout the year – for which gratitude is a wonderful and proper response. 
Remember the big question is this – what do you see and what do you do when you see?  If you go home with one thing stuck in your head, think about what you see and how you act.  Do you see the need for food shelf availability and purchase extra food items at the grocery store?  Do you see a lonely neighbor in need of conversation and so you knock on her door?  Do you see the blessings of parents, children, and friends in your own life, and make them aware of the gratitude you have for their love?  Do you see God healing someone you love and thank God in prayer and praise? 
As we read this text and as we are a part of this thanksgiving, soon to be advent, and upcoming Christmas season, perhaps what goes forward with us is that faith is a way of seeing.  Believing in Christ calls us to open our eyes and employ all our senses to the world around us.  Which of our neighbors need assistance?  How can we help?  What are our blessings for which to be grateful?  A rabbi says it this way – “Religion is not primarily a set of beliefs, a collection of prayers or a series of rituals. Religion is first and foremost a way of seeing. It can’t change the facts about the world we live in, but it can change the way we see those facts, and that in itself can often make a difference.”
If we believe that faith is a way of seeing, what we see should lead us to act.  Reaching out, helping others, and making a joyful noise in response to God’s mercy and grace.  Thanking and praising God along the journey.   What do you see and what will you do when you see? People of God, people of God, what do you see?  Amen.

BP vs. DB

19 Nov
I went to the semi-final football playoff game at the Metrodome today.  Dawson-Boyd Blackjacks vs. Blooming Prairie Awesome Blossoms.  While I sat on the side of the team where I now reside, deep down I cheered for the team across the stadium.  Talk about conflicting loyalties.

It’s not that Blooming Prairie isn’t awesome or that their team didn’t deserve to win.  They have worked extremely hard and have had a great season.  They’ve broken records and the town united over the team going to state.  They’re awesome and great and are made up of wonderful kids.  Totally.
Maybe there is something to be said that the amount of my life spent in Dawson at this point still outnumbers the amount of time I’ve spent in the Blooming community.  There’s probably something to be said that my coworkers at Grace who remain dear friends all have kids who play on the team.  There’s likely also something about my own safety, after receiving threatening text messages about my allegiance to DB.  [one guess who was behind those]  Nothing against Blooming Prairie but my connections with Dawson are what they are.
I also think this – there is so much truth in this article, written about the small town pride of Dawson, that has to do with why part of my heart still resides in Gnometown.  There is just something about Dawson … 
Congrats to the DB football team as they advance to the final state game next Friday at the metrodome again.  Likely another week of nerves and excitement for that small town with such a big heart; a heart worn on the sleeves of Dawson-Boyd Blackjacks apparel.  
[ … so I’m fairly certain I can still legally and without consequence write such posts because no one from my new congregation reads this.  To my knowledge anyways.  None of them are friends with me on facebook so I don’t know how they would have ever come across it.  If there are any BP fans reading and I offended … well, let’s talk.]