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.]

confession:

18 Nov
I put up a Christmas tree tonight.
I’m taking nods from my mother and now have two.  I purchased one at Target today for a good [cheap] price.  It’s going to be my crazy out-there color-coordinated tree.  My second tree – to be put up while watching Elf one of these nights – will be the traditional tree of ornaments from my childhood.
I know, I know.  It’s not even Thanksgiving.  However, I feel great about my decision because I will be gone next weekend [who is going to eat turkey at grandma and grandpa’s?  this girl.] and by the time I would put it up upon returning here, it would easily be December already.  I feel good about this.  Judge me if you want.  [but please don’t.]

thankful with scones [3].

17 Nov
I’m being unconventional.  [That’s code for lazy and procrastinating.]
I didn’t say thank you with paper this week.  I said thank you with lemon scones.  These lemon scones.

I said thank you to Marilyn, the administrative extraordinaire at ROG.  She’s awesome.  She puts together the bulletin and listens to my questions, my tears, and my outbursts.  Marilyn has had a bit of a crazy week and another crazy one ahead of her as her husband has surgery.  I figured scones were necessary.  We had a staff meeting with a scone and coffee, and I sent the rest home with Marilyn.  She deserves them and more for all she does for me and for the office.  
In other Thursday news, I think I might have pink eye …

dr. knock-me-down and how I learned to stop crying and embrace the party rock.

16 Nov
*cue refrain*
Sunday was great.  [Church was … meh – I blame my own preparation – but it was followed by an afternoon of the Blooming High School musical and local church potato supper with two lovely congregation ladies.  That was followed by Mabel and I trucking to O-town to hang out with the first-year-first-call groupies and having great conversation about Catholic pre-marital counseling.]  
Then Monday kinda sucked.  Tuesday morning wasn’t a whole lot better.
If life and work could stop being such a roller coaster, I would greatly appreciate it.  
I felt knocked down on Monday.  I’m facing fears of change, trust, and lots of different emotions that I can’t even name at this point.  It’s hard to know how to go forward without experience or much confidence on my end.  I cried, watched Dawson’s Creek, and ate a fruit smoothie to nurse my sore throat.  [you may play your sympathy music here.]  Bottom of roller coaster.
I started to go up on the ride yesterday.  I embraced the party rock and began my day with a blow-dryer-loud-music dance party for one in the blue bathroom.  That doesn’t mean that I didn’t cry when I got to work but that also doesn’t negate the power of party rock.  An afternoon of tea and website conversation continued the climb.  A night of nothing.  Literally nothing.  Needed.
Welcome to Wednesday.  Another party rock morning.  Naomi Circle meeting at Perkins.  Good.  Nursing home communion visits.  Good.  Dorcas Circle meeting at church.  Good.
It was a day of great stories.  Stories of second chances, long lives, and how God works through all of it.  Stories of going home from the nursing home after a two month recovery.  Stories of being married for 71 years.  Conversations about deep roots, good soil, and necessary silence.  
And then confirmation.  My confirmation group of four is beyond awesome.  They’re engaged, ask questions, and – dare I say? – a bit excited to be bringing their Bibles each week.  Tonight we talked about what we’re thankful for, the movie Serendipity [one could say there are likenesses to, oh, Isaac and Rebekah?], and the relation of music and faith.  
One of the confirmation gals also said she is working through the Bible reading plan that I stuffed in the bulletins last Sunday.  [Yes!  At least one!  And a youth at that!]  As we reviewed what we learned last week, I asked a bunch of questions about Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac.  This particular gal wanted clarification on whether it was a lamb or ram given for sacrifice in the binding of Isaac.  I told her to look it up and asked her where she would find the story, hoping she would be able to give me the book name.  “Genesis 22?” she asked.  Yes!  Yes!  “I just read it yesterday,” she said.  “It’s on the reading plan.”  Yes!  Yes!
Up and down.  Up and down.  Tomorrow is first call colleague group over lunch [up] and a day of two sermons on my plate [down].  There will also be cleaning for a visitor this weekend [Adam!] and thoughts of a state football playoff game at the Metrodome on Saturday morning.  [Blooming Prairie is playing – guess who? – Dawson in the state playoffs!]  Up and down.  Up and down.  I’m holding out for less dr. knock-me-down and a little more party rock in the next days.

DEAR

14 Nov
Do you remember DEAR time from elementary school?  [Drop Everything And Read]  I loved DEAR time.  I was that kid with her nose in a book all the time.  All the time.  
I hereby reinstate DEAR time in my life.
When I was at the fall theological conference, it seemed people were constantly suggesting I read this book or that.  They would tell me that this one book sounded a lot like what I was going through or talking about or they found that one other book really helpful in their first year of call.  Forget the pile of books that are already on my shelves, waiting to be read or reread post-seminary [now with a context to which apply them].
I hereby promise to make the best attempt I can to read for 30 minutes during each work day.  Thirty minutes of theological, devotional, or educational reading.  Maybe more.
I always felt guilty sitting in my office and reading.  I felt like I should be doing something.  Fall theological helped me realize that reading is doing something and it is part of my job.  It belongs in the office and deserves at least 30 minutes of my day.  jD and I are holding each other accountable … or at least trying.
First up: Sabbath, by Wayne Muller.
Perfect in many ways for my life right now.  Perfect because I often feel like this:

A ‘successful’ life has become a violent enterprise.  We make war on our own bodies, pushing them beyond their limits; war on our children, because we cannot find enough time to be with them when they are hurt and afraid, and need our company; war on our spirit, because we are too preoccupied to listen to the quiet voices that seek to nourish and refresh us; war on our communities, because we are fearfully protecting what we have, and do not feel safe enough to be kind and generous; war on the earth, because we cannot take the time to place our feet on the ground and allow it to feed us, to taste its blessings and give thanks. [p. 2]

And want the ability to feel like this:

Sabbath implies a willingness to be surprised when creation renews itself, when what is finished inevitably recedes, and the sacred forces of healing astonish us with the unending promise of love and life. [p. 37]  

the curse of two.

11 Nov
Number two.
[no.  not that.]
Enneagram number two.
The enneagram is a personality system.  Nine numbers, each with different manners of thinking, living, and acting in life. I find both comfort and challenge in knowing my enneagram and being able to see the ways I feel and live through that lens. 
I’m a two.  A giver/helper.  And one cursed to always feel like I’m disappointing other people and foregoing my own needs to be in service to others.
In ministry, this has its place.  Definitely.  But lately, I’m feeling more how it drains and consumes me.
I hit a certain low today.  It’s my day off and I can’t help but feel all the ways I’ve failed/let people down this week.  It didn’t help any that work called me away to a conference for two of my workdays [which was a good thing until the stress of today].  I didn’t return the rake to the proper custodian closet and he had to go get it himself.  I should have called about the microphone issues we’re having earlier in the week instead of scrambling to fix it on Thursday, perhaps now facing a Sunday without my microphone in working order.  I didn’t make any visits this week and upon discovery of the previous pastor’s milage reports in the file cabinet today, I find he visited at least one person a day.  Things that have been on my to-do list for weeks still remain, consistently being pushed further back.  It’s my day off but I’m spending it doing everything I think I should have done earlier so I won’t let anyone else down.
And really – have I let anyone down?  No one has told me such.  But that’s what I sense.  That’s what I feel I know.  I have this fear that I’m not living up to the congregation’s expectations of a pastor.  I need counseling.  [Seriously.  I will be exploring the avenue of counseling as soon as I figure out how to find someone in my health care network.  The synod encourages us as pastors to find a counselor.]  I don’t hear much positive feedback [except that I have great children’s sermons] so I’m always wondering where I really stand.  [So, naturally, I think they don’t like me when in actuality, maybe they’re simply not vocalizing what they’re thinking.  Apparently I crave feedback.]
I’ve heard again and again from other new pastors that in the first year I must be patient with myself.  I need to give myself grace and remind myself that I’m always learning.  But do I really need to face a whole first year of feelings like this?  I sure hope not because that would suck.  [I should also add that I realize this is not an exclusive number two issue, but it’s how I can easily put into words my own issues.]
*over-exaggerated sigh*  So that’s my current emotional state.  Please excuse me now while I eat a bowl of chili [mmm.  with noodles.  comfort food.], begin a Harry Potter night of both Deathly Hallows films [#2 was released today.], and exercise the self-care I have lacked so far today.  [Another facet of the two: two’s will often care for others and their own needs remain unmet.  That’s not good either.]  
I’m trying and trying to do my best.  That’s all I can do.  [Right?]

ps. I blogged here again today.  And I’m thankful for you.

perfection.

10 Nov
This is my picture of perfect.

No snow here yet, and none in the forecast.  That won’t prevent me from getting the Christmas tree out of it’s box mighty soon and making this as my tree skirt while watching Elf.

thankful on paper [2].

10 Nov
It’s time to be thankful again.  Here we go.
It’s quite possible today’s thank you note recipients will read this blog before the card shows up in their mailbox.  I really should send my notes out on Tuesday instead of Wednesday …
Today, I am incredibly thankful for Grandpa Bob and Grandma Julie.  [Not to leave out dear Grandpa Sid.  I’m thankful for him too.  I sent him a letter last week about lutefisk.  It’s his favorite.  Geeps is always one for a good story and tales of his life growing up.  And he made me a coat rack and lazy suzan for my spices in my cupboard.  He’s pretty handy.]
I started to write the thank you note and quickly found that the list of things for which to thank them was too long to fit in the card.  They helped me move and they gave me a gnome for my new place.  They’re super supportive of my call into ministry. They took me out for Chinese.  Grandma sends me greeting cards for every major holiday, and always invites me to her knitting coffee group when I’m home.  I bet Grandpa would even be willing to help me make this.  [*wink*]
I especially feel like Grandma and I bonded this past summer.  I was home, jobless and – most of the time – bored.  I would stop by in town often and we would have weekly – if not twice or three times a week – phone conversations.  I could normally call it when the phone rang and I hadn’t talked to her for a couple days – it’s Grandma Julie!  There were a couple times we caught up on life for well over a half hour.  
They’re pretty awesome as far as grandparents go, along with Grandpa Sid on the right.  [Grandma will tell me she hates this photo.  Sorry, Grandma.]

that’s strange.

10 Nov
Another story about how I’m single?  Oh, sure.  Certain people seem to focus on it so why shouldn’t I?  [read: sarcasm]
But this one is pretty funny.
The same man at the assisted living facility that told me weeks ago that I should get a move on was in worship this past Sunday.  I talked to him at coffee hour and it was evident he didn’t remember the last conversation we had because this one started like this:
You married?
Nope.
[dramatic pause]
That’s strange.

That’s strange.
Thanks.

a baby visit.

9 Nov
I arrived home from LaCrosse on Tuesday at the exact perfect time to greet seminary friend, Kari, her husband, Chris … and their baby, Markus!
Kari, Chris & co. live in Washington state and have been on a whirwind midwest tour for the past week visiting family and friends.  I was lucky enough to be their last stop before they headed for the airport and home to the west coast.  
We ate dinner, cooed a lot with the baby, and caught up on all things life. 
It was lovely.
And Markus is absolutely darling.  Absolutely darling.  And a flirt.  He knows he’s cute.  How can you look at this and not agree?

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →