[summer list.]

23 Jun
I know this summer will speed on by; it always does.

Heck, June is almost over as it is! In the hustle and bustle, I’m attempting to make the most of it.

That means it’s list time, people.  And it’s all about rest, rediscovery, and joy.

. I have a state park pass in my window.  I shall use it.  Mabel and I can go hiking.  [We were going to explore Myre Big Island State Park this morning but then it was overcast with rain.  Another time soon.]
. Screw makeup.  I’m hiding away all my eyeshadows and eyeliners and bronzers and everything else.  Why do I spend time doing all that?  [I will still put on a protective layer of foundation.  It has sunscreen in it, people.  And maybe a little mascara.]  On a similar note, find the easiest, low maintenance hair style ever.  I think my haircut on Friday may have helped in this department.  [Short in the back!]
. Perfect the overnight refrigerator oatmeal breakfast.  Six individual servings in canning jars in the fridge now.  With strawberries!  [Old fashioned oats.  Almond milk.  Strawberries.  That’s it.]
. Drink water, drink water, drink water.  And iced coffee.
. Always be crafty and re-inventive.  Some things need new life.  [I spray painted a file cabinet today – avocado green with hopeful gray chevron drawers to be yet achieved and fabric yet to be found.]
. Sermons written by Thursday.  [I know.  I say that all the time but this time, there is motivation.  Paige made a bet with the devil and I hope to help her lose.  Two week success so far and it’s such a joy to not be writing on Saturday night.]

. Find and embrace Sabbath time.  We all need that.  Often more than we even know until we take it.

. Get out of town!  Opportunities for this and places tbd.  [With the exception of Stillwater next weekend already on the calendar.  Gieseke B&B bound!]

. Find myself in a canoe or kayak on the water as often as time will allow.  [Finding a man with a Subaru Outback and two kayaks strapped to the top would be a great alternative to this, but I’m not holding my breath.]

. Learn to let things be.  I’m pulling back on pushing certain church work things through … maybe they just need to be instead of pushed.  There are other things on which I can spend my time.

. Read.  I already feel this being a huge stress relief at work, as I made time each day this past week.

There’s more.  There’s always more.  But this is a good place to begin.

I’ll keep you posted [as always].

self-care things.

22 Jun

best best best friend.

21 Jun
I had dinner plans again tonight.  
Last night it was with a group of women in their 60s and 70s.  
Tonight it was with a 6 year old.
If you look way back into the blog archives, you’ll find stories about my Dawson friend, Carter.  Carter was right around 4 when I was the intern at Grace and we struck up a friendship.  His parents were lovely enough to invite me over for dinners and play time throughout my year there.  [Mmm, salmon loaf.]  Luck would have it that Carter’s grandma and grandpa are my neighbors while I’m here at Red Oak Grove!  They live just down the road and since Carter is staying with them this week, they invited me over for dinner.  And legos. 
Carter was super excited to have me come over.  When I responded to the message they left me a few days ago, Carter was jumping up and down on the other end of the phone line.  I have to admit – I was pretty excited too.  We had fun!
I knocked on the door and I could hear him bounce down the stairs.  He swung open the door and gave me a giant hug.  We went on a gator ride and explored the farm.  We played legos and ate homemade pizza and talked about how crazy Pastor Kendall is.  Carter and I explored outside in corn fields and groves of trees.
We even formed a club.  It actually started like this –
I have a club, Carter said.  But you can’t be in it.
He then told me a little bit about his club and his friends in it.  I couldn’t be in it because I don’t live in Dawson.  But don’t worry – then we formed another club and we spent an hour dreaming about what the club would be about.  
You see, the club’s purpose was to collect sticks.  There was a special tree where we would collect them, and another special tree whose bark we would use to write secret club notes.  The club would be mostly for him and his cousins, but I could be an exception.  It would be called the fire club and the process of it all reminded me how fun imagination is.  It was super just to be outside exploring with this creative six year old, making stuff up as we went.  

I might have stayed a bit late because we were having so much fun and that might have led to Carter staying up a little past his bedtime.  I told Carter he could just blame me if his parents found out [Hi, Aaron and Sabrina.  Hope your cruise was awesome!  Don’t hate me for depriving your child of sleep!]  to which Carter said, No!  I would never blame you because you’re my best best best friend.
Aww, shucks.  Here’s to a fun and imaginative Thursday night with my best best best friend.

reassurance.

21 Jun
First, a little background info.  Pastors often attend weekly text study, a time when a group of pastors gather to discuss the texts for the upcoming Sunday and talk about preaching topics.  I used to go to text study in Austin but I didn’t feel entirely comfortable in the group.  [They would often call me out.  Lindsay, what do you think?  If you know me, you know the anxiety being put on the spot causes me.]  The conversation came up at our Blooming Prairie ministerium meeting and the two pastors at the Lutheran church in Blooming, jD, and I decided to try our own text study.  We met for the first time this past Tuesday.
Today, I was at a meeting in Waseca about the monkey business that is confirmation.  At my table was Pastor Charlie, one of the pastors in Blooming.  Our conversation went something like this over lunch:
Charlie: What did you think about our first text study?
Lindsay:  I enjoyed it.  I think we have a good rhythm to our group.
Charlie: I agree.  I think it will be good.  I have a feeling Heidi and jD will be the more talkative ones of the group.  I usually stay pretty quiet, much like yourself.
Lindsay: Yeah, you won’t hear me speak up too much.  But I feel more comfortable to contribute in this group than I did in my former text study.
Charlie: Speaking in a group has always been hard for me.  I’m always worried I’ll say the wrong thing or say something that doesn’t need to be said.
Lindsay:  Me too!  I’m always afraid I’ll sound dumb.
Charlie: Lindsay, we have more in common than we know.
It was reassuring to me that this gentleman, who I see as a wonderful pastor and I never would have once guessed considered himself quiet, had similar public speaking fears as I.  We totally had this moment [at least on my end] where we completely understood the other.  Charlie’s also fun.  jD had to leave early so at the end of the meeting – when we each had to sign in/decide what further discussion formats we wanted to be a part of – Charlie signed jD up for every single thing possible.  [You’re welcome, jD.] 

mascara: not just for eyelashes.

21 Jun
I went out last night.
That’s right.
I went to dinner and to see The Sound of Music at the local community college with four women from the church.  It was an enjoyable time but worry it’s a glimpse of my future.
We left the church parking lot at 5pm.  Austin is about a 15 minute drive and the show was at 7:30.  We didn’t want to be late.
We ate at Culver’s where I learned that if I ever have gray hairs around my face, using mascara as a temporary cover-up is always an option.
We got to the theater at 6:30 to pick up our tickets which were being held for us.  There were only two other people there at that time, and neither of them were the box office people.  So the five of us journeyed to the bathroom.
There were five sinks in the bathroom.  Five sinks; five of us.  I was at the middle sink, washing my hands, and looked to my left and my right and knew I had to get out of there.  I left and waiting in the hallway while they combed their hair.  I tweeted from my iphone, needing to do something that reminded me I am still under 30 years old.
We waited some more.  Doors to the theater weren’t going to open until 7pm.  twiddle thumbs.
The show was good but a wee long.  I didn’t get home until after 10:30 which made it a long night.  [says the youngest gal in the group]  It was very nice of them to ask me to go with and it was a fun time but I underestimated how much energy it would require me.  I was one tired lady.
To bed I went, dreaming of raindrops on roses and white woolen mittens, and reminding myself that I’m only 28 going on 29, even if my typical company was a wee bit older.  And my mascara is reserved for my eyeslashes.  For now, at least.

dolls.

19 Jun
Today, I learned about dolls.
China dolls.  German and French-made dolls.
I sat at a care center and thumbed through a quarterly publication for doll collectors.  Pat, the member I was visiting, has photos of her dolls interspersed with photos of her family members tacked on the bulletin board in her room.  She has hundreds of dolls.  She used to go to doll conventions.  She’s moving out of the care center at the end of this week, and moving in with her daughter and son-in-law.
Are you ready to move?, I asked.
I’m excited to see my dolls, she replied.  You’ll have to come visit and see them.  If only you could shrink to doll size then you could stay even longer and play.
We learned about the bleuette doll specifically.  I read captions to photos of the doll from the collector’s magazine but lots of the words were in French, as bleuette dolls were made in France for French girls.
Oh, Pat, I don’t speak French, I said as I found French words in front of me.
Congratulations, you’ve just started to learn, was her reply.
She’s funny.  And as I left I told her she was a blessing and a joy.  She made my [long] day.

asparagus.

15 Jun
I wanted to find out how to cook asparagus in a new way.
I went to pinterest and searched.
My search results were interesting.

Reminds me of the llama, llama, cheesecake, llama video of college popularity. 
Asparagus, asparagus, creepy animal, asparagus …
I’ve included a photo of my finished dinner plate. Grilled cheese is one of those foods I could eat forever and ever, and it’s been forever since I’ve ate one. The bread was an afternoon purchase from a Mennonite family at the Austin farmer’s market. That bread is so delicious it’s dangerous. Danger. Danger.

lonely.

15 Jun
In the last two weeks, I’ve been told two specific things, each three times.  Stay with me –

Three different times, people have told me that they appreciate my honesty.

Three different times, people have had conversations with me about how lonely ministry is.

I will now share with you honestly how ministry is lonely.

ding.  turn page.

Ministry is lonely.  That seems like an absurd thing to even say.  You might want to respond, Lindsay, you’re with people all the time.  Part of your job is to have conversation with people.  How is your job lonely?

It is.

The role of an ordained minister is, by its very nature, lonely. People often see us as set apart, which we means we must be intentional about finding relationships that allow us to be our true selves. We desperately need the space to laugh, cry, and rejoice together! [source: supporting young clergy]

True story.  And it’s hard to find those intentional relationships that allow us to be our true selves.  And it’s hard to work at a solo call with no colleague to bounce ideas off us, celebrate, and complain.  And it’s hard to have a long day and not have anyone with whom to share that.

I certainly am surrounded by family and friends who I know I could call and say all these things to … but it’s not quite the same.  I also know how fortunate I am to have Paige, jD, and Lauren nearby; I wouldn’t have made it this far were it not for them.  But it’s still lonely at times.

In every other place I’ve moved [college, Stillwater, seminary, Dawson], there have been potential friends built into the structure – be it coworkers or fellow students.  Here, alone in the middle of a cornfield … not so much.  And I’m completely at a loss where to even begin.

That’s life.  And that’s part of why I cry so much and am slightly, halfway unhappy here.  It’s not all the congregation and it’s not all me.  Part of it is simply is loneliness and part of it is that I don’t know how to fix it.

And I guess that’s really all I know to say about that.

[Talk about an anti-climatic post and ending.  When I first starting writing this yesterday afternoon, I anticipated it being a long, involved post.  … guess not.]

the good in Sunday.

11 Jun
I think I so heavily focused on that one slightly sexist remark that I failed to see the good in yesterday.  Not once, but twice, I was recognized for the hard work and hours I put in here.  It’s not that I need to be recognized for it but so often – I think particularly in this church given their history with certain pastors – it seems people are skeptical that I actually put in a full week, they feel the need to check in on me, or always think I need to be doing more.  [Welcome to it, I suppose.  People will always think I should do more.  Fact of life.]
I was locking up the church after worship, when I noticed two women in the parking lot.  Two members – a mother and a daughter.  I haven’t had a whole lot of reason for interaction with the daughter in my time here but we had a lovely parking lot conversation about fairy gardens and going out for lunch.  As we were saying goodbye, this woman told me, Thank you for all you do here.  Aww, shucks.  Thank you for saying that.
Second, for miscommunication reasons, I was sitting outside the lutheran church in Blooming last night.  It was VBS and I thought I was needed there but really I wasn’t and so on and so forth.  A ROG member – also involved in the communication – caught up to me as we were both on our way home after not being needed.  We chatted a bit about youth things and what was coming in the next week.  You sure do earn your keep, she said.  You keep so busy.  Yes, yes, I do.  Thank you for recognizing that I am working hard and this isn’t easy!

what year is it?

10 Jun
I mentioned before it’s strawberry festival week at Red Oak Grove.  The event is on Tuesday but things are already in full swing.  Today, following service, potatoes and eggs were cooked and peeled.  Celery was chopped with amazing precision, and manly men moved tables.  

This is my first strawberry festival so I’m not entirely sure what to expect or what my role is to be as pastor.  I had mentioned to a couple ladies that they should let me know what I can do.  I feel totally uncomfortable being a person at an event without a job.  I want something to do so I’m not standing awkwardly, waiting for people to talk with or whatnot.  The introvert in me needs a task – something to fall back on and keep my hands busy during conversation lulls.  I told them I was willing to do anything – just lead me to it and sign me up.  I’m game.  Just don’t tell me my job is to talk to people all night.  That would not be overly enjoyable.
Bake sale, I was told.  The baked goods are put on tables in the narthex and I could help Judy run that sale.  That way, they told me, I was still in the middle of the action and could still greet people.  [So, really, I didn’t completely escape the-pastor-as-hostess role but I got close.]  Great, I said.  Bake sale it is.
I chatted with a dear woman this morning over coffee.  I hear you’re looking for a job, she said.  I explained that I would be helping with the bake sale so I was set.  We’ve never really had to think about giving the pastor a job, she said.  They’ve always been men but of course you can help.
She meant well and nothing she said was directly insulting really.  She was just fine with me helping.  But the only reason I can help is because I’m a woman?  Or pastor-men always just assume that their role is play host and woo the crowd?  Or shame on us – our pastor is a woman now; we should include her in the womanly tasks?  I’m not quite sure but the comment shook me bit nonetheless.  
This is on the shirttails of another conversation with a younger woman in the congregation who was told last year that she couldn’t scoop ice cream in the kitchen because it was a man’s job.  Props to her for sticking with it.  She said her arm hurt the next day but she did it.  [whipping-face-mask-off-in-the-final-scenes-of-Return-of-the-King: I am no man!]
What year is it again?
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