four pictures.

13 Apr
Four pictures that showcase the joy of my day:

My brother, Ben, on his way back from Alaska via MSP, stopped at my apartment to teach me all about car fuses and replace the broken one that killed my radio, clock, and cigarette lighter.  I helped him find the spare fuses in the fuse box that was under the hood.  I asked, “How do I get it out?”  I had no needle nose pliers in my belt.  [I tell you, the ONE time I’m caught without them!]  There is a tool – a little plastic pincher grabber – in the fuse box to grab the fuses from their places!  Who knew?!  [Okay.  Maybe you did.]  I was certainly impressed.  He changed the fuse but I’m confident I could do it in future situations.  [Maybe.]
A letter from my penpal, C., was found in my mailbox today, complete with a flower!
A box of cakepop chicks and easter eggs sent off to my favorite staff members in Dawson.  Here’s hoping the sugar rush helps them get through the craziness that is holy week in a church.
Excuse me?  Say that one more time, please.  The world’s largest textile garage sale?!  I think I found my Saturday study break!  [I’m pretty sure this is the sale you told me about last year, Karen?  Maybe?  I totally happened upon the poster at a store in Stillwater this afternoon and, boy, am I glad I did!  To think I almost missed it!]

proof that I play.

12 Apr
You guys know me, right?  I don’t think for one second you could be convinced that all I do is work with no play and thus am a dull boy like Jack.  Right?  Allow me to give you substantial evidence.
Maybe you’ll remember my posts about Kevin, aka Joel.  I’ve been hanging out with Joel and his Pinterest pinning wife, Melissa, a lot of late.  They’re a lot of fun.  Often, Joel will lean over in our 8am Friday morning class and ask me, “So what are we doing tonight?”  Then we make plans.  Last Friday, we went out for dinner at the Wild Onion on Grand and then they came over to play Just Dance on the Wii.  How intensely did we dance?  Just know this – Joel sweat on me.

The last two nights, we’ve been celebrating half birthdays – Melissa’s, Joel’s, and my roommate, Jeanette’s.  (Why? you ask.  Because the school year is drawing to a close and we will take any excuse to hang out together.  What better reason do we need than that?)  Thanks to a Groupon given to me by one friend James, we also ventured into south Minneapolis to the Pumphouse Creamery for organic, fair trade ice cream in interesting homemade cones.  [Ignore my horrid hair.  It was not a good day.]  Granite City last night, Cafe Latte tonight, and I promised my confirmation ladies a dinner out tomorrow night.  Ugh.  I need to eat at home one of these nights.
All work and no play make Lindsay a dull girl but a happy combination of the two make Lindsay a happy and accomplished girl.  I finally cleaned off my bed of clothes and this afternoon, soaking in the sun outside of Starbucks, I was quite productive. A couple one-page papers written and the finding of the perfect quote/chapter from a theologian that I needed to jump start my thesis.  Want to hear it?
Theologically, in the eyes of God you, the person, are worth 
more than anything you can ever achieve.  (James Loder)
Boom.  Done.  There’s my thesis.  [In relation to fourth and fifth graders.  With a little discourse on the effects of body image/bullying.  A bit of child development.  Some doctrine on creation.  And throw in a twist regarding creativity and imagination.]
Remember when we went to the library as little kids in elementary school and we had a three book limit?  I had to be strategic about that book limit as I pulled books from the shelves and dreamed about taking them home.  I always wished it was five books and not three.  It’s quite fortunate that the Luther Seminary library trusts students enough to not impose a limit of books that can be checked out.  Here’s the current stack, that seems to only grow by the day:

one with a LOTR reference.

10 Apr
thesis.*
I talked to Aunt Peggy tonight on the telephone.  We caught up on life details and as I told her about my ever-impending thesis, she interrupted me, “Lindsay, are you having any fun up there?”
Apparently, I had made my life seem filled with school assignments and future congregation processes.  [Ha.  Fooled her.]
I told her not to worry.  That I was probably having more fun than I should be, and that going out with friends or trying a new craft project usually topped homework on the list of things that actually get accomplished.
Because, she told me, you only have a few more weeks.
So true.  And I’m all emotionally jumbled about it.  [Maybe one could say I’m in a glass case of emotion?  Maybe?]
I spent the first two years of seminary making my way through but pretty much just looking to the future and being done.  I spent the latter part of my internship year wishing I didn’t have to come back to classes.  The first semester of this year was spent in a slight depression, wanting with my whole being to not be a student.  There are right around four weeks left of the semester.  Four weeks left of my four years of work in my master’s degree.  And now I kinda want them to slow down.
Because when these four weeks are over [and add another week and a half of “senior week” before graduation], I’ll be moving away from the cities.  For all practical reasons, I’ll be moving home-home after graduation, as every weekend of June is booked with fun family and friend events.  [See this not as complaining; I actually think it will be quite lovely to spend June in the country and preparing for party upon party.  It will be grand to have the windows open and hear only corn growing, not kids screaming.  As is what happens here.  All day long.  Since my apartment faces the parking lot.  Where the kids ride their bikes, play ball, and scream.  All day long.]  I’ve come to love all the cities has to offer and it’s been great to get out this past year and experience a lot of new things.  Last year, two weeks prior to the end of internship, I wrote this rant.  [And this one four weeks prior to that.]  I’m not quite to the point of ranting, but still think the ‘little sleep, much coffee’ attitude will begin now.  Or at least until this thesis is written.  Or tomorrow.  I’m sleepy now.
A fancy dinner party this Friday with friends. // Half-birthdays to celebrate. // Tandem bike riding and/or canoeing with dearest Sara. // Minnesota History Center in St.Paul.  [Anyone?] // A mosaic class, a letterpress class, and potentially a truffle making class. // A Southeastern MN synod assembly.  [Can I get a ‘woot’?!] // A thesis to write and the same thesis to defend. // A weekend home for Easter to make kinder eggs, maybe an adult egg hunt, and spring cake pops to create. // Thursdays out and about. // The normal load of reading and writing [which I’ve already confessed I do minimally – shh]. 

Perhaps I need to begin by cleaning my bedroom and finding my bed.  My mother will totally be embarrassed [but probably not surprised] by me posting this photo but let me relieve her of any blame – she did teach me better than this.  I’m simply being honest with you that my life is not perfect and that this is what happens when Lindsay can’t decide what to wear and when Lindsay is too lazy to hang things back up.  But trust me, the kitchen and bathroom are [nearly] always spotless.

* There is this scene in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, that has been playing through my head all day.  Galadriel, crazy elf woman, is narrating as we watch Frodo and Sam continue to travel towards Mordor.  She says something to the tune of this: “In his heart, Frodo begins to understand.  The quest will claim his life.”  Replace Frodo with Lindsay.  Quest with thesis.  Both his with her.  That, my friends, is how I feel after this weekend.  I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

favorite links of late.

9 Apr
It gets no cuter than this.  Seriously.

How genius is this?  Oh, Martha, how I love you.

I love Easter.  [Were you aware?]  As a child a la middle school, I held Easter parties for my friends.  Egg hunts, art projects, pin-the-tail-on-the-bunny, you name it.  These are on my to-do list, maybe even to coat the inside with chocolate like a European Kinder surprise egg.

A good reminder.  Know your gifts and use them.  It’d be a shame not to share all you’ve been given.

Growing up, my mom had a wingback chair.  I used to think it was uncomfy and definitely not my favorite.  Seeing these green ones makes me think my tastes have changed.  To do: Learn to reupholster furniture.

spring.

8 Apr
I love spring.  But don’t tell fall.  
The sunshine, the melting snow, and the warmer temperatures of the last couple days have been refreshing and an excellent way to stock up on the missing vitamin D in the body.  Rumor has it there may be a thunderstorm this weekend.  Oh, to cuddle up with a mug of coffee, a quilt, and a book while it rains and thunders outside.  [Excuse me.  Let me rephrase that.  Oh, to cuddle up with a mug of coffee, a quilt, and my thesis resources and notecards as it rains and thunders outside.]
I have wonderful spring memories of growing up on the farm.  My brothers and I would slip on our mud boots (theirs were black; mine were red), our farm clothes, and disappear for the afternoon.  We’d explore the barns, the pastures, and build makeshift bridges across the creeks.  I don’t quite know how this kept us occupied for hours upon hours, but I do remember how awesome it was.  There is something about growing up on a farm, especially in the springtime, that is simply wonderful.
Your favorite thing to do in the season of spring?  A favorite spring memory?  Here are a few more of mine.
I remember visiting home one spring.  Cousins Sam and Molly came out to my house to hang out with me.  I wanted to fly my kite, and the day before would have been perfect.  Suddenly, as spring tends to do, the weather changed drastically the next day.  It was freezing and terribly windy.  [Though, really, it’s constantly windy at our house on top of a hill.]  We went about our kite-flying anyways.  We had little success and even more so, because of Jetta, my brother’s then puppy.  Jetta thought it was a grand time to chase our kite, grab it, and run about the yard, Sam chasing her the whole time.  The kite-flying didn’t last long that spring day.
Puddle jumping.  M. and I used to go puddle jumping.  These photos are from two different years, the years when babysitting for her consisted of walking up and down the sidewalk, up and down the sidewalk.  Oh for cute.

a request.

6 Apr
There has been a request.  A request for a post.  A post about music.
Here is some musical insight into Lindsay, as well as an embarrassing story in bad taste.
I’ll be the first to admit that my taste in music in my high school days was pretty horrid at times.  After a steady diet of Garth Brooks and Reba McIntire throughout my early years [who gave Reba lip-sync “concerts” in the tobacco strip house with her playschool microphone?  this girl.], I went pop for a time … but not necessarily to the good stuff.  I won’t tell you how much money I paid to see Ricky Martin in concert my 9th grade year.  [Okay.  I will.  $80.]  I was in love with Ricky Martin ever since he sang ‘Copa de la Vida’ at the Grammy’s in, oh, 1999ish?
I was in the midst of my Spanish classes and I loved his Spanish albums from that point on.  I listened to him bunches, and then saw the Livin’ la Vida Loca tour in Milwaukee.  [I will maintain that his early Spanish albums are better than the English ones that followed.  Does that help my case at all?] My dad was such a good sport, toting four high school girls to the Bradley Center to see Ricky Martin.  [He didn’t actually attend but dropped us off and picked us up following.]  I think we even took signs that we held up to the car windows – “Ricky Martin bound!” and the like.  [ugh.  embarrassed.  the things we do when we’re 15.]  When I was at that point in my life, I probably would tell you that the concert was awesome.  I remember there was confetti and free Armani perfume samples.  Currently, I can’t say that Ricky Martin is on my playlist any too often.
It’s on days like this – sun shining, flip-flops on, and sitting outside on the patio of the Stillwater Public Library overlooking the flooded St. Croix river – that I wish the radio in my car worked.  I think there is no better sign of spring than country music and the windows down.  Even if it’s still a bit too cold, I’ll put the window down and the heat on to turn the music up louder.  Country music is ultimately my roots and my default.  
That’s not to say I didn’t go through a huge Lady Gaga phase while on internship.  Matchbox Twenty is probably my favorite of all time.  Josh Groban and Michael Buble rank pretty high.  Taylor Swift goes on repeat quite a bit lately.  I think Darius Rucker and the Zac Brown Band know me too well as every song seems to apply to my life.  Keith Urban is dreamy.  And I would pay more than $80 to see Snow Patrol in concert.  LOVE them.  Unfortunate for me that they’re based across the ocean.  [Nearly half of my “25 most played songs” playlist on iTunes are Snow Patrol.]  
I’m not too eclectic and pretty mainstream when it comes to what’s on my ipod, but I’m always up for suggestions to make me more musically hip like you.  Who is your favorite right now?  What should I listen to so we can become better friends?

a blog is a funny thing.

4 Apr
Can we just take a minute to talk about blogs?
They’re interesting creatures.  An online journal, forum, soapbox; it could be described in lots of way.  For me, it’s how I process my days, how I share my life with those I don’t see everyday, and a creative outlet.  I’ve always loved to write.  I was that dorky kid who loved writing research papers in middle school with all the notecards.  [color-coordinated, of course.]  I had more than one pen-pal, and throughout middle and high school, I actually wrote a sometimes monthly, sometimes quarterly newsletter for the Dancing Bananas, my close group of friends.  [For real.  It was called Update! and – if I may say so myself – my friends loved it.  Unfortunately – but also conveniently for blackmail purposes – I have no issues of Update! to share on this current computer.  Pretty sure most are saved on a hard disc.]  Perhaps all signs in my past lead to me being a dedicated blogger.  I wouldn’t have posted 34 times in the month of March alone if I didn’t love writing this.
Recap: It’s how I process, how I share my life, and how I engage in my passion for writing.
Additionally, it has helped me make friends.
Seriously.
A blog is a funny thing.
If we meet in person, I’m a pretty shy and guarded person right off the bat.  An introvert who is aware she can say some pretty dumb and awkward things [especially if you don’t know me], I usually keep my mouth shut.  It’s been crazy how I have discovered that certain people read this blog and suddenly, friendships begin to form.  I can’t quite pin it down but something about sharing of myself here, on this blog, allows me more open up further in person and it’s a great conversation starter.  If you already know things about me and, knowing that, haven’t declared me too weird or off my rocker, then let’s be friends. It’s been awesome this year to gain those friendships, and so good for my soul.  
That being said, I’m still not always certain who reads this.  [A fun example: Tammy, my office neighbor in Dawson, had mentioned that her brother reads my blog.  I don’t think I’d ever really met him until this past Saturday when I was at the musical.  Tammy and her family sat next to me.  As her brother scooted past to his seat, he bumped my arm and said, “I read your blog.”  Here’s a shout out to Terry; thanks for reading!] I’m not always sure why people visit this funny thing called a blog.  I ramble about my life and am humbled that people read it.  And enjoy it?  If you say so.  
That being said, I ask in the most polite and kind-hearted manner – Who are you?
I share my life with you.  I keep the blog updated with the ins and outs of my world, but that’s a pretty one-sided deal.  If we’re going to be friends, it needs to go two ways.  I think it would be awesome if you commented on this post or sent me an email [lmstolen at gmail dot com].  Introduce yourself. Let me know what’s going on in your world and I promise to respond.  [If I know you well, see you nearly everyday, or you’re a family member, you’re exempt from this request.  I would, however, still appreciate a life update.  Or a joke.  Or the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done in your presence.  That could be a good post to come.]  Then I can better know who you are, we can hold hands, and skip into the sunset. 
I really think you should say hi.  Then we can be friends and do things like high-five each other.

[Speaking of blogs … I blogged here tonight too if you feel so inclined to take the energy to click the link and then have the energy to listen to my ramblings on coats.]

blessed to be a blessing.

3 Apr
*ahem*  My weekend story.
Once upon a Saturday morning, Lindsay drove south to a small country church for an interview.  [Not such a blessing: The iPhone car charger I bought the night before in anticipation of this long weekend traveling about Minnesota somehow blows a fuse in my car.  The radio, clock, and cigarette lighter worked for none of the ten hours I spent driving yesterday and today.  What worked overtime?  My brain.  And the voices in my head.  Not good.  This blog post?  Written mentally on the drive.  My one-page paper due tomorrow?  Not written on the drive.]  The interview went … well.  [Also well?  The fact that I discovered there is a Target AND a JoAnne Fabrics not ten minutes from where I would be living if I were to receive the call.  Score!]  I feel blessed to have reached this point and am so excited to begin doing ministry in a new place.  I’ll keep you posted!
From this small country church, I drove west and north to Dawson dearest.  [Four hours.  Did I mention no radio?]  There was a ticket and it had my name on it.  A seat was reserved for me to see the Dawson-Boyd High School production of Hairspray.  It was magnificent.  Hilarious.  [Enter any synonym for “awesome.”]  Those high schoolers and adults who participated both on stage and behind the scenes are blessed with incredible gifts.  Incredible.
I felt greatly blessed to return to Dawson and be greeted by so many friends.  I honestly cannot tell you how it ever happened.  I spent a year in this place and met some of the most wonderful people.  In that one year, they shared humor, confidence in me, hugs, and loads of love.  I love them to bits.  And miss them bunches. 
As I ran into friends in the rush that followed the end of the musical, I smiled so loudly.  I couldn’t stop as I saw people I didn’t expect to see and received/gave hug after hug.  I caught up briefly on Dawson lives, shared my own life update, and was the butt of [only a few] jokes.  The one that had me laughing the hardest?
     [discussing whether or not I’m going to worship at Grace the following day]
     Sam: You could go in disguise.
     Me: Hmm.  I didn’t bring any disguises.
     Mary:  You could not wear a cardigan.
     [hilarious.  and sadly true.  I had packed a cardigan for the next day.]
I was blessed by former coworkers who opened their home to me.  Again.  I was lucky to have a couch to sleep on in a house that feels like a home to me.  [I think that’s a compliment, Emily!  I hope you take it as such!]  After spending time there dog-sitting Abby, the mischievous lab who played many games with me this morning, and numerous late nights of dinner and wine, it feels completely comfortable and wonderful to return, if only for a short night.  
This morning I worshipped at Grace.  It was the first time I’d been back to the church and, actually, the first time I’d simply sat in the congregation and worshipped.  Kendall preached – after I had a red-faced introduction from the current intern as the returning intern – and it was all about blessing.  Paying attention to the blessings in our lives.  We have received blessings upon blessings, and with those, we bless back.  We bless with what God has given us; with what we have received, we bless others. 

This past weekend, I was so incredibly aware of blessings I have received.  [And then I came back and had to do homework and this group presentation meeting and became really crabby and I should probably apologize again and again to my group members.]  Many of the blessings I was again reminded of are faces, names, and arms that hug me again and again.  [Two examples of many: Custodian Keith.  He and his wife give me a hug when they first see me.  *mingle, mingle*  Keith and Gail are on their way out, and Keith wonders if he’ll see me in church the next day.  I told him I wasn’t quite sure, so he said he’d better give me another hug just in case.  He says, in reference to the staff at Grace, “We were a pretty tight group.”  Aww.  Yes, we were.  Second: A hug, quick conversation, and kiss on the hand from my five-year-old friend, C.]  I’m so incredibly blessed; here’s hoping I take those blessings and am a blessing to others.  Source: 24.media.tumblr.com via David on Pinterest 

In this new week, pay attention to the blessings in your life.  
What/who are they?  AND 
How are you a blessing to others?

the things I dream about.

31 Mar
Last week, I had this really wacky dream.  I was somehow cast to be the substitute on a hockey team.  [Note: I can’t skate even the tiniest bit.]  The game was in overtime [Is it even called overtime in hockey?  Hint at how little I know about this sport I play in my dreams.] and time is going in super slow motion.  As people skate about the rink, I think to myself, “Which goal is ours?  Did it switch?  I don’t remember …” as I search wildly for any kind of clues.  Suddenly – or as suddenly as things go in slow motion – the puck is in my possession.  *insert naughty word*  WHICH GOAL IS MY TEAM’S?  *insert naughty word*  I still don’t know so I take my best guess.  Naturally, I guessed wrong.  The team lost on my account.  I woke up feeling absolutely terrible and being reminded why I cannot bear to play competitive team sports; I fear I will let people down.  [Hello, Enneagram #2.]
While that is apparently what I dream of while wrapped in my warm quilts at night, not quite where I intend this blog post to dawdle.  [Unless you want to hear about my dream of yellow shoes made of jell-o.  That’s a classic.]  Here are the other things I dream of, while my eyes are still open –
A hammock between two trees.  Wherever I end up once my time is seminary is spent, may there be two trees close enough together to match the length of my Mexico hammock.  Please, God, please.  [I may need to invest in these to hang it more securely.  Right now, it’s always a guessing game of how quickly the hammock with drape to the-butt-touching-ground height with slippery rope.]
Time to get lost in a book.  [A friend posted this on facebook.  It is wonderfully written, and captures my childhood love affair with books; a love affair I hope to rekindle once not a full-time student.  If you’re a reader – or if you date one/are married to one, certainly click on over.]
That my thesis would write itself OR at least give me the time and energy to do so.
My future craft room.  Seriously.  

passion.

29 Mar
I’m a wordy person.  I associate a lot of meaning with words and am cautious that I use the right word in conversation and writing.  I love etymology and a good thesaurus.  If we’re talking about the written word, I love a good type too.  Fonts and typography get me excited.
The newest word I’m in love with?

passion |ˈpa sh ən|noun1 strong and barely controllable emotion : a man of impetuous passion. See note at emotion .• a state or outburst of such emotion : oratory in which he gradually works himself up into a passion.• an intense desire or enthusiasm for something : the Englishhave a passion for gardens.• a thing arousing enthusiasm : modern furniture is a particularpassion of Bill’s.

There is something about a strong and barely controllable emotion.  Something that makes me so excited I’ll risk lack of sleep to do it.  That thing that unleashes a vigor, a fervor, a mania.  (Thank you, thesaurus.)  Something that leads to eagerness and intense energy.
Passion is crucial.  
So important that a lack of it could kill you.  
Not in the literal sense but in real seriousness – what is life without passion?  
[You could probably say that Pinterest feeds many of my passions, and fed the formative push for this blog post by unveiling the following to me on a board I follow – ]
What about life makes you barely able control your excitement and enthusiasm?  
If you can’t even contain it [Please!  Tell me you can’t!], what do you do with it?  
How do you share it?  
What happens?  
Tell me!
If you’ll allow me to consider this a passion, here’s my example: Vacation Bible School.  VBS is like the perfect combination of all things I love and a week in the summer where my energy is high despite incredible lack of sleep and long hours of work.  Love it.  L-O-V-E love it.  
Crafts?  Check.  
Crazy games?  Check.  
Loving on kids?  Check.  
Teaching?  Check.  
Community?  Check.  
Watching kids discover the love of Jesus?  Check.
[I’m getting super giddy just thinking about it!]
Passion is on the brain for Pinterest reasons and for ministry reasons.  Many know my secret but if you don’t, here you go [even after I swore off revealing secrets on this blog as of, oh, yesterday] – I interview with a potential church this weekend.  Stress levels are high as I anticipate the questions and the nerves that I hope won’t show.  If it’s a good fit, it’s a good fit.  If not, other options will come.  But I wonder how I wear my passion; how will they see my passion for ministry?  I hope I can share who I am – who I’m created to be – and wear the enthusiasm I have for ministry in the church.  I’ll most certainly keep you posted.
[It’s still March and this is my 33rd blog post of the month.  Safe to say that writing/sharing/being in this media relationship with you via blog land is a passion of mine?  Perhaps.]
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