Caution: God at work.

23 Mar

He probably wasn’t wearing a bright orange construction vest,
 but where did you see God today?

The human missionary task is to give visibility to the Divine work in the midst of our daily existence.

[Henri Nouwen]
…

Midterms.  Five to seven pages on my missional theology of faith formation.

Did mission trips and service projects shape your faith?
[If you comment and let me know, that would be fun.
Fun for the sake of fun and not to be used in my paper.  I promise.]

Buckets of concrete to roof houses; Jackson is hard at work. [Mexico Mission ’08]

work in progress.

22 Mar
I sat in a theater, with every seat filled, next to my bestest, Sara, tonight and watched a work in progress.  I’d tell you the name of the film, but I had to sign an agreement that I would not use facebook, blogs, twitter, etc. [or any social media site that had not yet been created before the printing of the agreement.  seriously.  it said that.] to share what I saw.  They threaten legal actions to be taken if that was proven to be the case.  I mention not the title of the film and, hey.  Try searching for my blog on google.  It doesn’t exist.  It hides from the man.  [or at least then men for whom I signed the agreement.]
I woke up to an email this past weekend – an invitation to the screening of a motion picture that’s due for release in July.  The email came from a site on which I’ve bought movie tickets before and, heck yes, I’ll drive to Eden Prairie, wait in a line, sign a legal agreement, and surrender my cell phone to security for a free movie.  Not to mention a free movie starring – 
just kidding.  I can’t say.
It was just a really funny process.  I signed up online and the confirmation I received said we must report to the theater an hour before the movie was scheduled to start.  We arrived and found there was already a line.  We stood and filled out our legal paperwork.  We waited some more and then were subjected to a purse search and were ‘wanded’ by a security guard.  [Legs shoulder width, arms up and the wand.  You know.  The wand.]  We also had to check our cell phones at the door.  [Boy, did we feel naked for three hours.]  All the while, seemingly important people talked on walkie talkies and paced the corridors.
This was apparently the first showing of the movie, announced the guy who was big and important and wore his clothes a bit too tight and told us they’d just flown in from LA to do the screening.  [the audience clapped at this.  lame.]  He stood in the front of the theater to address us, right next to the guy with the video camera that I’m pretty sure filmed us through the whole movie, recording our reactions.  It was our job to sit back, enjoy, and then remain in our seats for ten to fifteen minutes following the film to fill out forms regarding what we thought of the movie.  Everything from the music, the scenes we liked the most and the least, and the websites we visit most often.  [I nearly put down workingpreacher.org.  so kidding.  but not.]
Again, for a free film that was pretty flippin’ hilarious with some romance thrown in, I’ll fill out an evaluation form.  Please and thank you.  It was a great night to end the dreary weather day – shopping the housewares at Kohl’s, eating Punch Pizza [thanks to Lauren for sharing this coupon on fbook earlier; click over and use it through thursday!], and seeing a free movie, all with Sara.  An adventurous friend, a better-than-I-expected [did I mention free?] movie, and too much laughing at a Bath and Bodyworks store equals a fabulous evening.  Thank you and good night.

the starbucks drive-thru.

21 Mar
Cassie and I went to the bank [she needed quarters], to DSW [she needed shoes], and then to Starbucks [we both needed wanted coffee].  [Can you tell I was the tag-alonger on Cassie’s errands?]

[enter drive-thru]
Guy: Welcome to Starbucks.  How are you today?
Cassie: Good.  How are you?
Guy: [kinda giggles, almost surprised that someone returned the question] Oh, pretty good.  What can I get for you today?
[Cassie places order.]
Guy: Can I interest you in a rocky road cakepop today?
Cassie:  No!  We don’t like your cakepops!
Guy: Oh, well … [kinda giggles again] how about another treat?
Cassie:  No thanks.
[Guy gives total; asks us to pull forward.  He opens window.]
Guy: Bon jour!
[Cassie and I giggle.  Exchange of money happens.  Guy runs away from the window, and then returns.]
Guy: Sorry.  I had to shut the dishwasher off.  Didn’t want it to overflow!
[He leaves the window to grab out drinks.]
Cassie: [turns to me]  He’s a redhead!  [my favorite.  along with Matt Damon.]
[He returns.  Hands us our drinks and leans down, his arms resting on the ledge of the window.]
Guy: So where are you guys off to?
Cassie: We’re heading back to school.
Guy: Where do you go to school?
Cassie: Luther Seminary.  [gives directions as to where the school is]
Guy: Oh, yeah.  I know where that is.  It’s really beautiful over there.
[We giggle.  We’re a little smitten by the redhead.  And because, yeah, it’s nice but it’s not that nice.]
Guy: Well you ladies have a good day.

[Oh.  We will, Mr. Sing-song-lean-down-onto-the-window-to-have-a-chat-with-us.  We will.  Because of you.]

adult relationships.

20 Mar
My younger-by-a-year-and-a-half brother stopped over tonight.   With his girlfriend.  [Yes.  You heard that right – he has a girlfriend.  Here’s hoping I don’t jinx it … but he seemed really happy about it too.  Exciting.]  It’s funny.  Really, it’s just humorous to me to think about how my siblings and I have grown up and now have these adult brother-sister relationships.
I grew up on the farm, having mudball fights, shooting bb guns with my younger and older [a year and a half on either side of me – they have the same birthday] brothers, and playing baseball with lots of ghost runners.  I always got along with Ben; never with Matt.  [Sometimes that remains the truth.  But there are times when it’s not; we’re growing up slowly.]
Then there is Emma, nine years younger than I.  I was the live-in babysitter; I loved watching her and dressing her up.  I remember carrying her around in clothesbaskets and being angry that one time she got a hold of a box of kleenex and spread them ALL over the living room floor.  Now she’s 18, preparing to graduate from high school and go off to college.  We exchange scarves and books, and we’re planning a sister trip to Seattle in the month of June [hoping it works out to celebrate both of our graduations].
So my brother stops over.  This is a week after he called me to see if I wanted to have coffee.  I never thought such an invitation would pass through the lips of my bike-riding, lettuce-with-mustard eating brother.  He was in the Cities, visiting formerly mentioned girlfriend, and wondered if we could get together for coffee before they took off for a camping trip to Arkansas for her spring break from school.  [Because everyone thinks of Arkansas when they think of spring break, right?]
I think tonight, as Ben stopped over to my apartment, I got a glimpse of what it might be like someday when we visit one another in each other’s homes for holiday, birthdays, or whatnots.  This is how it went – Ben walked in.  He walked nearly immediately to the stove, on which sat the tuna noodle/green bean/broccoli concoction I had thrown together for dinner.  [Mind you, it’s after 8pm at this point.  Late dinner.]  “Oh, yeah, what’s this?”  I explain.  “Well that sounds good.”  [pause]  I asked if he wanted some.  “Oh, sure, that’d be good.”  Ben helps himself to the hotdish.  Then to something to drink.  Then to the candy in the canisters on the counter.
I simply acknowledge and not complain this comfort level.  I think it’s humorous … and good.  [It reminds me of cousins, Brent and Mike, who would walk into our farmhouse and straight to the fridge.  They lived in our house as much as we did.]  Perhaps it won’t ever really matter that it’s not the farmhouse we grew up in, or the house on the hill our family built and in which we currently reside.  A family member’s house is a home for each of us.  
It’s hard to tell where those homes might eventually settle.  Matt’s in Colorado and Ben has upcoming plane tickets to Alaska to search the possible job market outside of the continental forty-eight.  Emma’s future is yet unknown, knowing only that next year Carroll University will be the place she resides.  I’ll be somewheres in southeastern Minnesota.  I think it’s kinda fun to dream about where life will take us all, and where we’ll settle down to open our homes to each other in the future.  Now I know to have a hotdish of some odd kind waiting when Ben stops by.  And old Starburst for him to chew.  [He’s pretty easy to please.]

mmmatt.

19 Mar
I have no problem sharing with you that I’d pay good money to stare at Matt Damon in a mediocre movie.  [He’s my favorite.]  But who are we kidding?  He doesn’t do mediocre movies.  Example #23:
The Adjustment Bureau dives deeply into questions of fate and destiny, the different paths we choose [or do we?] and people we encounter in life.  The unfortunate happenstance of spilling coffee and being late because of it can change the course of a journey, the people we meet, the bus we take – so the plot of this film guides its audience.  There’s a plan, a chairman in charge, a destiny we each are to fulfill.
Take it theologically, if you will.  [Cassie and I did.  Or don’t.  It’s awesome either way or with some mastered combo.]  I have had many conversations with friends – those who may not ascribe to particular beliefs or label themselves as religious – that push against God/religion/specific beliefs because of reasons this film addresses [intentionally or unintentionally so is unknown].  To not ruin the film for those of you who will rush to see it upon my advice [Do it!], I say no more.  Except let me know if you do see it.  And tell me what you think.  Or maybe we can go see it together?  [My arm does not need to be twisted for Matt Damon.]

distraught.

19 Mar
I’ve lost my gym shoes.
Have you seen them?
[Seriously.  I’m not typically too spacey … and don’t often lose things … but I can’t seem to find them anywhere.]
Last worn on Tuesday.  [I know, I know.  That doesn’t bid too well for my work-out schedule … but I did do yoga today, one form of exercise that does not require shoes.  I wore them home from the gym on Tuesday.  I know this for sure because I remember thinking to myself, ‘This is naughty,’ as I stared at the signs in the gym that yell at us in capital letters – ‘PLEASE DO NOT WEAR YOUR GYM SHOES OUTSIDE.’]

If I had a picture, I’d show you what they look like.  And if I had money to spare, I’d give a reward to the person who finds them.  How about a cakepop?

seriously. watch this.

18 Mar
If you haven’t yet seen this, watch it and love it.  [And if you have seen it, watch it again.  Like me.  I’ve watched it – and laughed hysterically – at least eight times.  Okay.  Twelve.]
Do you think I can, like, somehow ensure that any potential child of mine has facial expressions that equal this?  

what up, wednesday.

16 Mar
As Seinfield was a show about nothing, thus is this blog post.  [I never really got into Seinfield; I didn’t really understand it.  Bet you have real high hopes for this post now, eh?  Not.]  I think I’ll talk about the good things of today, I thought as I walked up to campus for a meeting.  I wanted alliteration in the title (always good) but ‘wonderful wednesday’ was a little too rainbows and gumdrops for my taste.  So I go gangster on you instead.  [Right, you think.  Lindsay?  Gangster?  Synonymous with DON’T GO TOGETHER.]
what up, wednesday. *head tilts back in oh-so-cool acknowledgement*
What’s up today?
A date [okay, appointment] with Brentt, my hair stylist;  
AND lunch out with Katja, M.’s mom;
AND plans to spend lots of time crafting with M. next week while she’s on spring break;  
AND a new-to-me fondue pot, courtesy of Katja; 
AND the watching of last night’s Glee, which I really appreciated and enjoyed;
AND p. 12 of the Concord, Luther Seminary’s student paper; 
[Who’s that girl with the snarky look?  Yup.]
AND a meeting about my children, youth, and family thesis, which I’m now totally excited to write;  
[Who’s the crazy lady who likes to write papers?  Yup.]
AND it was sunny and nearly fifty and I wore flip flops;
AND stopping at Starbucks to chat with friend, Cassie, while my eyes were dilated after an eye exam;
AND time to quilt tonight;
AND should I keep going?
What’s on your what up, wednesday list?  
I hope you can mentally make a list like this for your own day.  It’s not to say that your whole day has to be peaches and ice cream; mine wasn’t.  [And peaches and ice cream?  Why would I use such a comparison?  Ack.  No thanks.]  I could have told you how I shelled out lots of money for an eye exam and contacts on top of it.  I might have mentioned the load of midterms I feel weighing upon me.  I could have talked about any number of things that didn’t go spectacularly on this day like the matching blisters on each of my pinky toes due to a pair of shoes.  
But eh.  Why focus my energy there?  Not today.  Not worth it.  Instead –
Source: google.com via Hana on Pinterest

[Easier said than done.  But let’s give it a try.]

self-care.

14 Mar
Tonight, in my Women in Ministry class, we had a guest panel of five female pastors, poised and ready to take our questions.  Conversation ranged from fashion to humorous stories to boundaries in relationships.  Much of the conversation was helpful; some was not.  [If not here, then certainly on Steeples and Stilettos, further address of their take on fashion in ministry will be had.  I don’t consider myself much of a fashionista by any means, but I disagreed.)
One topic that was helpful was that of self-care.  I’ve heard about it, talked about it, and practiced it in many different ways in the past, but a firm refresher was … refreshing.  Namely, self-care is not selfish.  [Say that aloud.  Do you believe yourself?  You should!]  Allowing myself Lindsay time, finding the people I need to remain sane, and saying no are not bad practices.  In ministry, there is always more to be done.  If one really wanted to, a work week could easily consist of sixty hours.  (I’m pretty sure some of mine on internship did …)  That’s unhealthy and completely not cool.  [Not cool … one would think I would have a better way to describe it.  You don’t want to be uncool, do you?  That’s what I thought.]
Reflecting on last year, I think quilting was my self-care, or at least a large part of it.  I need to be busy; I hate being bored.  To break away from work, to focus on a project I enjoyed was what quilting helped me to do.  In honor of that hobby and the reminder I was given tonight, I came home from class (which ends at 9pm), said no to further homework, and am taking care of myself.  I fully intend on putting in a disc of Gilmore Girls and working on the binding of this flannel blankie with my glorious Fossil sewing kit.  Amen and goodnight.  

cakepop conclusions.

14 Mar
I conducted tests.  I employed friends as consultants.  I heard from many and the results are in.
Starbucks cakepops kinda aren’t good.  At all.
[phew.  sign of relief.]
Sorry, billion-dollar international corporation.  I will still purchase coffee from you.  I love your VIA instant packets and your oatmeal.  But your cakepops?  [said to the tune of “Buzz, your girlfriend,” Home Alone reference]  Yuuuuck.  *sick sounds*
Starbucks was giving away free cakepops with the purchase of a drink last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.
Do I sound pathetic if I tell you I went everyday?
Kara isn’t sold.
I went on Thursday by myself.  Friday, my friend, Kara, said, well hey, let’s go on our way to the Luther College alumni event that night.  Saturday, I did further research with pals Joel, Melissa, and Paige.  [So I didn’t go by myself each day, and it wasn’t my idea to go everyday.  Less pathetic?]
Paige, Joel, and Melissa are less than thrilled.
I also heard from friends, Kay and Megan, and cousin, Molly, who all told me that Starbucks has nothing on the homemade version.
Molly, one of my biggest cakepop fans and eaters, says thumbs down.
Thanks for your dutiful research and cakepop conclusions, friends.  I’m confident that homemade cakepops will continue to taste better than the coffee shop version, but my fear is that now the novelty of the cakepop will be lost.  “Is that a cakepop?   I’ve seen those at Starbucks!”  Grr.
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