vacation: it’s over.

9 Jun
Cry for me, Argentina.  The vacation is over.  Over and back at it with a funeral this morning and a Sunday sermon to write this afternoon.  [The children of the deceased are British and totally have that beautiful European look.  I wanted to be their friend.  I wanted to listen to them talk all day long.  #anglophile.]
But before I can face that second sermon, let me show you the rest of my vacation.  
After breakfast conversation with Alex from Zurich, I hit the road.  I walked the breakwater on the harbor in Grand Marais before driving reluctantly south on Hwy 61. I made two state park stops on the way home – Cascade River State Park and Gooseberry Falls.  I think Cascade was my favorite because it was a bit off the beaten path and I didn’t have to wade through people like I did at Gooseberry Falls.  I was bummed I couldn’t spend longer hiking the trails but also learned that, hey, I really like hiking.  Mabel and I will have to get some solid use out of the park pass that now sticks to my windshield.  
rock art on the breakaway.

the harbor.
Cascade River State Park

Gooseberry Falls
And then I drove home.  Boo.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t start to sob the minute I hit the southern edge of the cities.  It was like a switch flipped.  I didn’t want to go home.  I didn’t want to have to work again.  I realized that I’m really kinda sorta unhappy here.  Or maybe the end of vacation cued a flair of dramatics.  Because while I would much rather be hiking or kayaking or exploring a new town, the last two days haven’t been terrible.  No tears since that initial night of return.  As Pastor Heidi told me, it’s all about finding the recreation and joy in everyday and not just vacation.  But oh how nice another couple nights of vacation would have been.
le sigh.  To Sunday sermon prep we go … and then it’s Strawberry Festival week, people.  [The annual festival of Red Oak Grove is Tuesday.  Approx. 800 people are fed meals of barbecues and any kind of strawberry dessert you may desire.  It will be my first experience of it all.  I anticipate chaos and long prep days ahead.]

two thumbs up.

8 Jun
Two thumbs up for bed and breakfasts.
When I left the MacArthur Inn on Thursday morning, Max and Sherry, the delightful owners, walked me to the door.  They thanked me for my stay and I thanked them for showing me the greatness of b&bs.  It was quaint, convenient, and just plain different than a hotel.  Two thumbs up.
It was breakfast on Thursday morning that really convinced me of the greatness.  While there were only five of us for breakfast on Wednesday morning, the next morning the table was full with eight guests.  Next to me was a gentleman with an accent.  Alex from Switzerland.  We had small talk as a table during the meal [blueberry strata] and then Alex and I began talking as others wondered off to their day adventures.  We sat and chatted for close to an hour about how we had come to Grand Marias, about driving to Alaska [he wanted to and his friends in Europe told him he was crazy.], and what we do for a living.  He works at a hostel and does city tours of Zurich.  Twelve years ago, at 21, he came over on a temporary work visa to work the summer months as a housekeeper and dishwasher, and so the town of Grand Marais is close to his heart [he said as he tapped his chest].  [The tourism of the town depends on European help, much like the WI Dells, I suppose.]  I told him I was a pastor [and you know how Europeans are about church…] and he said, “Not to be ignorant or rude, but what do you do all week?”  A super fun chat that – chances are – would never have happened at a hotel.
On another note, I think I’m on a kayaking high.  I think that happens when you conquer a certain fear successfully.  And I think I just really liked the experience and am totally psyched to go again sometime soon.  [But maybe in a recreational kayak as opposed to a sea kayak.  And maybe somewhere a bit calmer water-wise.]  I kinda feel like this kid – I can do anything now.  [If you haven’t already seen the video, you must watch it.  Must.  It’s an oldie but a goodie.]

Two thumbs up for rock and roll, for kayaking adventures, and for bed and breakfast stays.

thoughts on traveling alone.

6 Jun
Traveling alone isn’t all fun and games. 
There is no one to share in the inside jokes. 
No one to whom I can complain. 
No one to laugh with or with whom to people watch.
Congratulations. You have just become that person. I am now going to tell you everything I couldn’t tell anyone when it happened.
You know how that one husband who is staying at the B&B looks like the gay guy Cher kinda sorta dates in Clueless? Totally.  They kinda laugh the same too.
How funny was it when that couple at the restaurant last night sat on the same side of a table? [A table designed to have one person on each of its four sides.]  It apparently was their anniversary and the wife kept asking, “Did you move your chair closer, honey? Did you move your chair closer?” Lay off, woman, and eat your vegan dinner. You don’t need to be sitting on top of your husband right now. “Did you move your chair closer? Did you?”
Do you think Phil-the-kayak-guide is single? Also, what do you think it would feel like to run your hands through his curly red hair? (Answer: amazing.)
And that woman on the kayak trip who apparently knew everything? Gross.
< Was it just me or would you also want to run inside and yell to the people behind the counter at this donut place, “You did it! You finally did it!” like on the movie Elf?  World’s best donuts?!  Congratulations!  
Do I really have cause to currently dislike my job or do I simply have too high of expectations? Maybe it’s not the job that has to change; maybe it’s me.  [shoot.]
I don’t want to go home tomorrow.  Please don’t make me.  One more night would be perfect.
my dinner view at the angry trout.
>The server I had for dinner at The Angry Trout restaurant was named Lenna. Of course she was.  I wonder where Ole was.  All I know is that she didn’t charge me for my glass of wine because she kinda forgot about me for fifteen minutes.  I’ll take it; it wasn’t like I was just sitting there doing nothing.  I was reading my book on introverts by myself like most crazy people would be doing.
No, Stone Harbor Outfitters, I will not rent one of those stand-up paddle boards to try on Lake Superior.  You crazy.  But I will buy a set of playing cards called Don’t Die Out There to give to my brother, Ben.  Each card has a survival tip on it; not that he needs it.  He just got back for a bear hunting trip about which he sent an email.  He called it “exciting” and is apparently getting a bear rug out of the kill.  Huh.
Bright yellow Keen sandals were a very wise investment.

vacation: post four.

6 Jun
Really, my whole reason for traveling to Grand Marais for vacation was to go kayaking.  One might call it a bucket list item for me; I’ve wanted to go kayaking for a long time and have never found the friends or the opportunity to do it.  Today, I went sea kayaking on Lake Superior and I survived.  I didn’t even tip over or make a gigantic fool of myself.
The more I thought about it prior, the dumber I realized this plan was.  My first time kayaking to be on frigid, choppy Lake Superior?  Really, Lindsay?  Did you think this through at all?  Maybe not the greatest plan of attack.  But Stone Harbor advertised that this half-day trip was suited for beginners.  deep breath.  Okay, that’s me.  Let’s do this.
I was fearful going into it.  Nervous.  I was worried I would tip over.  I was worried I would be completely uncoordinated or not able to get in and out of the kayak with grace.  I was worried the guide would be cute and I would get flustered and dumb because of it.
The first two worries didn’t happen.  The third did.
This is quite literally what happened – 
I arrived at the outfitter and checked in at the desk.  I began filling out the waiver/medical info and the dude behind the desk said Phil would be my guide and he was off getting things ready.  He hasn’t lost anyone yet, dude said jokingly.  I’m writing on the clipboard and a guy appears next to me, talking to the dude behind the desk.  Dude behind the desk directs my attention and says, Lindsay, this is Phil.  He’ll be your guide.
I look up, shake Phil’s hand, and my inner monologue seriously mutters, Shit.  A redhead.  
I’m a sucker for redheads.  And this one was absolutely adorable.*  
There were two other ladies on this trip.  We met up with them, walked out to the back of the building, and put on the equipment we needed – wetsuits [gross.], windbreakers, PFDs, and a spray skirt.  There is no question that I looked like a complete moron in pants too tight.  We went to the beach and learned how to sit in a kayak, how to get in and out, how to paddle, and how to attach the spray skirt [which is probably the hardest part of it all].  Phil adjusts the foot peddles inside my kayak awkwardly while I’m still sitting in it [when you sit in a kayak, you don’t sit with your legs flat on the bottom of the boat.  there are peddles to rest your feet on and pads to put your knees against while bent.] and then pushes me out to sea.
I was completely freaked out.  There were waves.  It made me sway.  I really, really didn’t want to tip [just like everyone else ever].  Was the rhythm of it all going to make me seasick?  Could I really do this?  But then … it was okay.  Gradually, I got the hang of it and it was lovely.
Artist’s Point
We paddled around Artist’s Point and continued on the water for a couple hours.  We stopped along a rocky beach for a brief break; a break needed more to stretch the legs than for the arms.  [I felt like my arms didn’t get nearly as tired as they do when canoeing.]  It was at this point I really had to go to the bathroom but I was wearing a frickin’ wetsuit and there were no bathrooms in sight.  We ate energy bars, I drank no additional water, and headed back out, in and out of the harbor, and back to where we started.
I survived sea kayaking.  I faced a fear and lived to tell the story.  I label this day a success.  
* You know how they say everyone likes the sound of their own name and to make a good impression with someone new, you should use their name frequently in conversation?  Phil knows this technique.  He was so personable and good at the name game.  He also applauded my graduation from seminary  [and I applaud him for knowing the word seminary and that that’s where pastors go for school] and seemed … impressed? … that I was a pastor.  Maybe not all hope is lost.

sabbath.

5 Jun
Pastor Siri, a former coworker of mine at Trinity in Stillwater, is leading a group of people in reading the book Sabbath by Wayne Muller.  It’s a book that has been on my shelf since it was recommended to me during CPE and a book that I still haven’t read all the way through in those last three years.  I’m thankful for Siri’s structure and accountability in finally reading it as I join in the virtual reading group.  
today’s ponder text.
There is a schedule; a couple chapters a week for the summer.  Throughout it all, Siri will text us questions to ponder and thoughts, along with blogging about it on her blog.  Chances are I’ll be blogging about it too.
Hello.
She sent the first group text today and it encouraged me to start my reading of the book this evening.  

To be unavailable to our friends and family, to be unable to find time for a sunset … to whiz through our obligations without time for a single mindful breath, this has become the model for a successful life.  [Sabbath, p. 2-3]

Muller’s theory is further proved by a commercial on the television just a moment ago.  I don’t even recall what company it was for but this company prided itself in being “unwilling to rest.”  That’s exactly what Muller talks about – we don’t rest and … that’s become a positive thing?  

While many of us are terribly weary, we have come to associate tremendous guilt and shame with taking time to rest. [p.8]  

I can relate to everything he writes and thus, I’m declaring my summer one of sabbath.  That doesn’t mean a summer of vacations or simply making sure I get one full day off a week.  It’s more than that.  It’s a restored rhythm to living.  It’s a way of effortless, nourishing rest. It’s said best by Muller –

Sabbath is a way of being in time where we remember who we are, remember what we know, and taste the gifts of the Spirit and eternity. [p. 6]

Yeah.  That.  That’s what I’m aiming for this summer.  Hold me to it, will you? 

vacation: post three.

5 Jun
I write while watching television and laying on the bed in this room –

I feel relaxed already.
I arrived in Grand Marais and to the destination bed and breakfast in early evening.  Since arriving, I had a colloquial chat with the couple that owns the b&b and walked to a very nice restaurant for a very delicious dinner.  I wondered how eating alone at a toursit-y restaurant would be so I went prepared with a book.  Cliche to read a book about introverts while sitting alone and talking to no one?
The drive to the north shore was quite nice.  I stopped little but for a quick lunch break at a rest stop and an hour exploring Split Rock Lighthouse State Park.  There were many places I wanted to stop [a crazy roadside flea market which – from what I could tell – had tables upon tables of only fiestaware pitchers] but was on a schedule to arrive at my final destination.  Hopefully on the way home, I’ll have more room to stop and browse rivers and waterfalls, wayside rests, and random flea markets.  For now, I relax and be gradually more and more nervous about kayaking tomorrow afternoon.  
lunch.
this cold water makes me fearful for my kayaking adventure.
split rock lighthouse.

gospel messages.

4 Jun
I felt preached and ministered to twice on Sunday and neither was the sermon in worship.  [gasp.  yeah.  a pastor just said that.]  These were both gospel messages I needed to hear.  
The first was during worship.  If you are in the Dawson community, you know but if you’re not, you likely don’t know the talent and awesomeness of musicians at Grace.  Two of them together sang a song during the offering.  And not just any song – a song they wrote.  Deep gratitude to Jacob and Kelsey [who also happen to both be children of internship coworkers] for sharing this message and sharing their gift of words and music.  I needed to hear it.  I think my purpose needs a little realigning … but not necessarily by me.
The second time was just as I was leaving gnometown and saying my final goodbyes.  [It sounds like the bachelorette.  You did not get a rose.  Say your final goodbyes, says Chris Harrison every week.]  Sharon – who was the chair of my internship committee while I was at Grace – reads my blog and knows that it goes on spurts between depressing and super depressing.  She gave me a hug and then she said something to the tune of you are wonderful.  remember that.
I’m so keen on showing and telling everyone else that they are enough just as they are and created by God … but I often forget that applies to me too.  Sharon, in that graceful way, reminded me.  Another gospel messenger at just the right time.  Thank you, Sharon.  

vacation: post two.

4 Jun
I write from the crazy world of Joe & Amanda – a world filled with laughter, inside jokes, and quoting obscure youtube videos and snl clips.  I arrived around 8pm and we had a lovely dinner of lasagna followed by ice cream with homemade cookie dough [sans eggs] balls.  [Enter ball jokes here.  They ran amok.]  And there was coffee.  J&A sure know how to welcome a friend. 

 You should know that they are very hospitable people and always have been.  It’s even to the point where Joe checks under the guest bed for monsters before we turn in for the night.  He says he scared them away but if they come back, I’m supposed to go get him and he’ll get his monster spray.  Thanks, Joe.

This night in Sioux Falls comes after another lovely day in Dawson.  I worshipped at Grace [with tears in my eyes more than once – for missing the community and for the gift of simply being able to worship] and spent a long coffee hour chatting with Batman and his wife.  I had lunch at Kendall & Emily’s and spent a few hours with Karen and her family.  We went for a walk around Dawson and talked sewing.  Karen passed on an awesome book written by her sister-in-law.  I see summer projects in my future!
The last order of business in Dawson was one more graduation party.  Counting the table I shared with organist Chris at the party, I connected with every one of my wonderful coworkers from internship this day, plus many more awesome congregation members.  There were more hugs.  More come back soon!  More wonderful gnome support.  It’s still hard to leave but I was so thankful for the opportunity to visit, even if so shortly.  There’s no place like gnometown.

vacation: post one.

3 Jun
Vacation is here and it’s wonderful.  [I’m choosing to temporarily not address the fact that a member passed away last night and I have funeral details to figure out for a Saturday funeral.  Eventually, I will have to address it … but it can wait until Monday.] Here’s the play-by-play so far –

I dropped Mabel off at her favorite home-away-from-home and home for the next week – Camp Canine Kennels – and headed for Golden Valley to the wedding of Frank and Kate.  It was super fun to reconnect with seminary friends I hadn’t seen lately both at the church and at the reception that followed at a local park.  Super low key and chill.  [I’m taking notes if I ever get married.  Low key = great.]
Following the wedding and reception, I spent the evening with gal pal, Sara, and her boyfriend, Josh, at their new house.  We ate at a local malt shop in Chaska, chatted with the neighbors, and introduced Josh to Carcassonne, the dorky German boardgame.  [During which he called his meeples “meatballs.”  We let it pass; it was mildly humorous.]  An episode of The Office, overnight oatmeal in the crockpot, and a little local antiquing was all part of the fun and frolic too.  [I bought a window for $12.  Don’t laugh; it’s cool.]  A little shopping at Gander Mountain and Punch pizza rounded out our time together.  It was lovely.

I left Chaska and drove west in lovely weather to the town near and dear to my heart.  I always tear up a little bit when I drive into Dawson; this town and its people have been so good to me.  Two sons of coworkers from my year of internship are graduating from high school and it made a perfect excuse to visit.  The first party was this evening and it was super fun to catch up with so many people. I’m going to attend worship at Grace tomorrow morning and stick around for the second of the two graduation parties.  It’s so great to be here.  I’m spoiled by all the hugs.  [Seriously.  I love seeing these people for so many reasons but one of the big ones is the hugs.  Love it.  Love them.]
We’ll round out leg one of the vacation with an overnight in Sioux Falls tomorrow night [a two hour drive from Dawson] with Joe and Amanda.  They always know how to keep things interesting and keep me laughing; I’m looking forward to it!  It will lead to three different beds in three nights.  One could say some pretty crude jokes about that but really what it means is that I’m blessed to have so many friends in so many different places … and they’re willing to let me sleep over.  Grateful this girl is.

bacca-what?

31 May
Wednesday was baccalaureate for the seniors of the Blooming Prairie Awesome Blossoms.  [I still can’t get over that their mascot is a flower.  I no longer have the privilege of complaining about my high school – the Crimson Tiders.]  This service was held at the Catholic church in Blooming in the evening and all six pastors from the town participated in the service.  
What do you get when four Lutheran pastors, a Baptist minister, and a Catholic priest lead a service together?
First, Lindsay gets ulcers and then we get ice cream at Dairy Queen.
I remember telling Kendall on internship that I don’t do surprises in worship.  I like a clear plan with nearly every word I say scripted.  I like to know where I need to be when and how I will get there.  If these pieces don’t exist, I get anxious.  I need to know what’s going on and my role in it all or palms are sweaty, the voice chokes, and nothing can be in any sort of focus but a nervous one.
The six pastors met beforehand but no one said, “Hey.  Let’s walk through the service together.”  [I suppose I could have been that person.]  No one, as we walked to the back of the sanctuary to lead the graduates in procession, said, “Dudes.  Let’s be strategic about who sits where in the aisle based on role and timing.”  [Okay.  I said it quietly and without the initial dudes.  I could have spoken up.]  [And that’s when Stephanie, aka Heidi, aka a pastor at the big Lutheran church in town, said, “You should blog about this.”  It was all sorts of circus.  Check.]
The service happened.  We processed, prayed and preached.  Songs were sang and Scriptures read.  We high-fived the graduates as they left the church in lines – a high-give gauntlet, if you will.  Survival was the result.  Thanks be to God.
Thanks be to God because the pastor tradition is to get ice cream afterwards.  A fun tradition, say I.  A late night treat that reminded me how thankful I am for companions in ministry.  How awesome is it that I get to be a part of services like this next to a seminary friend with whom I can fist bump before leading the benediction?  [And who begins to eat my ice cream by mistake but I feel comfortable enough sharing germs and saying, “That’s okay.  But keep your own spoon.”] I’d say it’s pretty rare that two seminary classmates – let alone pretty wonderful friends – end up sharing in such ministry right out of school.  And how awesome is it that the two Lutheran pastors at the big church in town are so great?  One – Stephanie/Heidi – is my mentor which basically means we go out for ethnic food or coffee once a month.  [Not a bad deal.]  The other is simply pastorally wonderful.  Neither is crazy or off their rocker.  They can be trusted and approached. Thanks be to God.
So bacca-what?  Bacca-circus.  Bacca-ice cream.  Bacca-awesome.
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