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 NovIt’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 NovAnother 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 NovI 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?
theological high.
9 Nov[A politically correct title? Likely not. Oh well.]
Fall theological conference for pastors, baby!
Paige and I left Owatonna Sunday afternoon bound for Rochester where we would meet up with jD. Not due to arrive to pick up the missing third of the triple threat, Paige and I stopped for lunch. Here. It’s kind of a classy place; a place that most of the people in the area know about and have been. I’m fairly certain we walked in and lowered the average age of restaurant guests by about 40 years. It was the Sunday-after-church-older crowd. We stopped for chocolates at the chocolate shoppe across the street and then were off again, ready and poised for more adventures.
Once we were three in the car, we began discussing how we wished the car ride was longer. I was looking forward to going off with friends but I just wasn’t sure that I was prepared for a two-day conference with stodgy pastors. Alas, we arrived, checked into our hotel rooms and took a deep breath as we entered the reception area and cash-bar-with-the-bishop before dinner and the official start of the conference.
To recap: We enjoyed the journey. We were uncertain of the actual conference and reason for travel. Would it be enjoyable or just boring as all get out? These fears were real.
It turned out our uncertainties were not actualized. Hooray! While there certainly are some stodgy pastors [you can’t tell me everyone at a dentist convention is full of fun either], I met some awesome colleagues. Both nights we were there included pastor hang out sessions in various hotel rooms. It felt comfortable to be with other pastors who understand, who can also take off their ‘pastor hat,’ and who can have a good time. One particular pastor – who shall remain nameless – made his way into my heart with his rebellious side and cursing mouth. We’re just people, people.
I got to see dear Karen of Stillwater – the one who now works on the synod staff – and she invited Paige and I to the secret seventh floor appetizer parties. I met other first call friends and had lunch with the bishop. It was, however, eventually time to leave. jD, Paige, and I piled back into Sprocket, bound for Chinese food before leaving LaCrosse. The resulting restaurant find was not overly pleasant and none of us were brave enough to try the number five.
There is a price to pay for the crazy faith-filled fun of clergy. Hot tea is now my best friend as I nurse a sore throat and icky nose deal. Lack of sleep and that darn sleep-number bed that would not cooperate I will blame. [We tried to figure out our sleep number but the remotes were too advanced for our kind.] I will conclude, however, that fall theological conference ranked quite high in my book. It was a high I needed and a renewal that came at the right time. I feel – at least a little – rejuvenated for ministry back in the grove.
off to lacrosse.
6 NovI blogged here today.
And now I’m off for the southeastern Minnesota synod fall theological conference until Tuesday.
Translation: Paige, jD, and I are going to LaCrosse. [Together, of course.] We will listen to a key speaker, worship with all other SE MN synod pastors, stay in a hotel, and go pastor crazy. For us, that might mean a board game and a couple large cranberry juices. Watch out.
Mabel is being boarded for the first time while I’m away. This pastor may shed a tear or two if the parting is full of sorrow. But I think she may have fun.
And now I leave you with the text I preached on today for All Saint’s Sunday:
See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure. [1 John 3:1-3]
less than perfect.
4 NovTwo songs: F**kin’ Perfect by Pink and That I Would Be Good by Alanis Morissette.
I’m never totally up on the music scene so excuse me if I’m way behind the times. I just heard the Pink song on the radio a few weeks ago. The second song is an older one. I recall listening to it in a pastoral care class and my recent renewed addiction to Dawson’s Creek has brought it to my attention again. It was used in a recent episode and caught my ear. They’re good songs, people. Good songs.
You’re so mean when you talk about yourself … change the voices in your head … make them like you instead. Pretty pretty please don’t you ever ever feel like you’re less than – less than perfect. Pretty pretty please if you ever ever feel like you’re nothing, you are perfect … to me.
... that I would be good even if I got a thumbs down … that I would be good if I got and stayed sick … that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds … that I would be loved even when I’m not myself … that I would be good even if I lost sanity … that I would loved even if I wasn’t myself …
I like these songs particularly lately because I of all people need to hear them. I resonate. I may be mistaken as a confident young woman but, more often than not, I’m insecure, unsure, and fearful.
I need to change the voices in my head. My thoughts of late are constantly filled with judgement, self-doubt, and mistakes. I second guess my decisions and consistently tell myself that I don’t do enough.
It’s not that I’m not given grace. It’s not that I’m not learning and growing in skill and confidence. It’s not that I’m not supported. Perhaps it’s how I function and a little enneagram #2 coming into play. [I blame my 2-ness a lot. Perhaps that needs to be a blog post of the future.] Perhaps it’s how my history has seasoned me to act. Perhaps it’s greater culture.
Whatever it may be, mission: attitude change must begin. A colleague told me that someone once told him that this pastor tells himself, “I am okay.” Perhaps I need a personal mantra. Something I can tell myself and believe. Something maybe like:
I am a child of God.
I am gifted.
I am loved.
I don’t have to do everything.
I must take care of myself.
I carried a watermelon.
[strike the last one from the record. but name that movie and I’ll give you an air high-five.]
You should repeat every one of those statements and know it to be your truth.
Say it. Believe it. And I’ll try and take that advice for myself too.
week one.
3 NovBe thankful on paper, week the first.
I sent out two thank you notes yesterday addressed to three people. [It’s almost like a riddle!]
One thank you was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. jD and Lauren and the second to Ms. Paige. The thank you notes were simplicity at its finest and said only the following:
I am fairly certain that first call would be miserable without you. Thank you for being my friend(s)!
True story. I think that sums it up.
My first call as a single pastor in rural Minnesota would be incredibly lonely, filled with despair, and miserable without these three friends [exaggeration noted] who were wonderfully already in place when I arrived to Austin. But seriously, if I didn’t have these colleagues in the form of such wonderful friends, things would be so incredibly different. We can call each other at any point to discuss certain situations, possible sermon topics, and the unique aspects of our congregations. They’re up for coffee dates, afternoon lunches, and television viewing on Sunday evenings. We can be brutally honest with each other, say naughty words [except for Paige. she doesn’t swear.], and simply be ourselves without our pastor hats on. We go to pumpkin patches, synod functions, and might polar plunge. We’re that cool.
And for that and for them I am so incredibly thankful.
love this.
2 NovI love this. I will fashion my own on the macbook and print it and frame it myself.
I don’t think I carped the hell out of this diem. It’s not even 10 and I’m exhausted. The confirmands and I did make microwave smores. [score.] Mabel threw up. I finished a baby quilt top and now I’m drawn into and addicted to season three of Dawson’s Creek. Darn it all, Pacey Witter.
I’ll try and carpe the hell out of tomorrow’s diem. Promise.
