I won! I won!

8 Nov
You know when you go to those restaurants and the hostess gives you the little light-beeper thing that shakes when your table is ready?  In high school when going out with friends, that sort of event required the one holding the light-beeper thing to jump up and yell, “I won!  I won!” when it started to shake.  
That story?  Very little to do with the actual purpose of this post.  
I received a mysterious check in my campus mailbox last week.  A check from the business office here at seminary.  I was utterly confused.  I mean, Luther sending me money is typically a good thing but why?  I look on the attached info sheet and it reads thus: “Honorable Mention in Intern Stewardship.”  To break that down into normal-people’s talk – 
The seminary holds a stewardship sermon contest for interns.  Interns can submit a financial stewardship sermon that they preached while on internship.  I preached and I submitted.  (With many thanks to Grace’s Summer of Stewardship preaching opportunities!)  And I won!  Well.  I won one of three honorable mentions. Not the big prize.  Or the second biggest prize.  (There are my inner jackals – the ways in which I down-talk myself.)  But hey – honorable mention! 
I accept.

{ make and share these }

7 Nov
I decided it was time for a mini-break this weekend of past – time well-spent with my favorite college roomie and her adoring husband.  I’m ever so thankful for my friendship with the pair and the fact that I feel comfortable simply inviting myself over.  My mom always told me it was rude to invite myself over to friends’ houses but I think that guideline went out the window when the friends started living in their own places.  I have a handful of close wonderful friends with whom I know (I think?) they welcome me inviting myself over.  Joe and Amanda are a pair of those friends.

I arrived and we made our plans for the 24 hours of my stay.  Said plans seemed to revolve around food and church.  We decided upon lunch out at a favorite restaurant, lasagna for supper, and these.  Amanda delightfully suggested that we make good on my fall list and either bake a pie or make the pumpkin cinnamon rolls.  We went with the cinnamon rolls … and now I must work out each night this week to correct that damage.  They. were. delicious.  

While at the store, they also picked up a pomegranate.  Never before had I watched the dissection of or ate the seeds inside.  The seeds were great to snack on as we prepared our evening meal on Saturday and apparently are filled with vitamins and other good stuff.  They will become my sickness-prevention food.
What else did we find at the grocery store?  Wine.  Wine by the title of my nickname, Sweet Pea.  It was a blackberry-flavored apple wine which was quite tasty.  (As was only to be expected by a wine of that name.)

{ get lost in a corn maze }
{ bake a pie }
{ prepare a pot of chili, beer bread, invite friends over to enjoy }
{ step on the crunchy leaves }
{ sew a baby quilt }
{ homemade pizza on the pizza stone }
{ attend a wine tasting }
{ make and share these }
{ 10k training – the hiatus is over – it’s back on }
{ find a fall festival }
{ cabin weekend. a hike to the fire tower }
{ scarves.  puffy vests.  boots. }
{ read a for-fun book }
{ cheer on the twins from target field }
{ take a stroll around a lake } 
{ pick my own pumpkin.  carve.  light. }

{ sew a baby quilt } & { pizza }

5 Nov
We’ve been wonderfully blessed with an extended beautiful autumn in Minnesota.  The first week in November is nearly over and I’m still without a heavy winter coat, hats, and boots.  It’s grand that the season is continuing because my fall list is still not complete!  (And will it be completed?  We’ll see.  It may carry over into a winter list.  I like this whole list thing …)
I finally finished this baby quilt, made and sent to my college friend, Deb.  Deb and her husband, Scott, welcomed daughter, Isabelle, into the world last week.  I’m eager for more photos on facebook but understand the new parents are most likely otherwise engaged.  Perhaps even a trip to Arizona to visit the family is in works for February.  I just want to hold her.  I hope they have received and enjoy the warmth of the cozy flannel.

The pizza stone is called just that – and I finally can say that I baked a pizza on the said stone.  Check.  Pepperoni with a string cheese stuffed crust.  Lots of cheese as pizza is meant to be.


{ get lost in a corn maze }
{ bake a pie }
{ prepare a pot of chili, beer bread, invite friends over to enjoy }
{ step on the crunchy leaves }
{ sew a baby quilt }
{ homemade pizza on the pizza stone }
{ attend a wine tasting }
{ make and share these }
{ 10k training – the hiatus is over – it’s back on }
{ find a fall festival }
{ cabin weekend. a hike to the fire tower }
{ scarves.  puffy vests.  boots. }
{ read a for-fun book }
{ cheer on the twins from target field }
{ take a stroll around a lake } 
{ pick my own pumpkin.  carve.  light. }

taking guesses.

4 Nov
I’m waiting for a package.  A gift.  My sister, with two friends, went to CO to visit our older brother last week.  Apparently, she found something so great, so wonderful, so Lindsay that she just HAD to buy it.  (Her words.)  She’s texted me or told me about this mystery thing at least five times.  Oh, you’re going to love it, she says.  When are you coming home next?  Because if it’s not until thanksgiving, I’ll mail it to you.  
Apparently, it can’t wait two weeks until I’m home for break.  She texted me tonight – 
[[ okay, then I’m mailing your awesome gift tomorrow.  hope you’re prepared for it. ]]
Prepared?  What could it be?  I guessed a gnome scarf – the combination of two of my most favorite things – but she said no.  It was better.
What’s better than a gnome scarf?  
Guesses?

be thankful on paper (1).

4 Nov
Way back when, I signed up to be thankful on paper this month.  Together with many other bloggers, including the creator at No. 17 Cherry Tree Lane and my friend, Jenni, at After the Chapel, I agreed to send a written thank you note every Wednesday in November and then to write about that person on Thursday.  Installment one is here. [Hop on over to No. 17 to read other thankful on paper blogs!]

I sent out six thank you notes yesterday.  One went to Illinois, another to Texas, still another to Indiana, and three to Wisconsin.  I couldn’t thank just one so I thank all six of my Dancing Banana friends.  My high school gals.  I love them to bits, eight years out of school and separated in five states.  This is what I sent to each of them with a personal note – 

(click on the note to make it bigger and easier to read)
That youtube video I mentioned?  You’ll hate me later … though actually, no.  Don’t hate me.  Hate my friend, Kim.  She’s the one who finds these things and shares them … but I secretly love it.  And love Kim.  “CHICKEN!”

stories are gifts.

3 Nov
I’m killing time before confirmation.  I had a few errands to run on my way to Stillwater this afternoon and arrived at church over an hour early.  It feels awkward and strange to go to the family pizza time or wander around, no longer having a role in the children’s ministry arena of Trinity.  (So now I sit on my computer, tucked away in the leader room, stalking people on facebook, maybe eventually getting to a few paragraphs of a paper.)  It is awkward but it also can be wonderful because I am in awe of how many kids remember me after my year and a half away.  One boy who consistently gave me grief and a hard time in Bible Explorers as both a third and a fourth grader, Simon, found me tonight.  He no longer wears glasses and is about a foot taller.  “Hi, Lindsay,” he said automatically.  Another couple of girls who were constantly in my cubicle, chatting about life, eating my candy, and hugging Herbert Butterfield (my giant inflatable penguin) visited me tonight and told me they had missed me in my time away.  That warms my heart – 
– like my nonfat toffee mocha warms my tummy.  I had a headache earlier and figured it was due to either a lack of water or a lack of coffee.  I went to Starbucks.  Halloween is over so, naturally, let’s jump ahead nearly two months and whip out the Christmas colors and drink flavors.  Starbucks cups are red again, their cup sleeves have snowflakes, and this phrase – “Stories are gifts.  SHARE.”  For Christmas this year, I will write down stories, wrap and deliver.  Deal? 
We talk about story a lot at seminary.  As Christians, we share the common story – that of the gospel.  But, unlike fifty or a hundred years ago, there’s competition to the story.  We can no longer assume that everyone believes or has the same story.  There was a community forum held on campus today about the challenges that the church faces – one strong challenge being that we lack identity.  Who are we as the church?  What does it mean to be Christian, to be Lutheran?  While we’re uncertain of our identity, it’s difficult to proclaim the story of Christ and what it means for our life.  The forum kinda led me to despair at the place and the ministry into which I’m going …
Starbucks tells us to share our stories.  Well, if Starbucks says so …  Share your story.  Share your life.  It’s meant to be shared with others, not kept locked inside yourself.  I think, as you share your story, you’ll also be sharing the gospel and the ways God has worked in your life.  Your story is a part of your identity – it makes up who you are.  As we share our stories, maybe the church will find the voice to its identity … I don’t think that’s quite what Starbucks has in mind but I think might move us forward to better understanding, to closer connection, and to education.  Stories are gifts.  Share.

Hey. It’s November.

2 Nov
When did that happen?
I don’t mind too much.  The weather is still great.  Cardigans and puffy vests and even, on chilly mornings, my black knit mittens make me comfortable and happy.  
Halloween is over and that’s fine by me.  What did I do on Halloween?  I went to church.  (Reformation Sunday.  Martin Luther.   You know.)  Sewed a little  bit.  Watched a movie or two while fiddling with things.  Read.  Went to the gym.  The end.  If there was a Scrooge of Halloween, I’d be it.  I didn’t even hand out candy.  *gasp*  The Scrooge of Halloween.  Despised by children, loved by dentists.  That would be my slogan.
November also means plans are in order for the fifth annual Thanksgiving Day Bake-Off with my birthday buddy and cousin, Connor ‘The Robert.’  The sister and another random cousin or two usually join us in seeking the treasured bake-off apron prize.  This year’s theme?  Ready?  Can you handle it?  Dessert that looks like a turkey.  Take that and run with it.  (The wheels are turning.)
I’ll be writing about people in my life for whom I’m thankful this month and writing snail mail notes to those people to tell them why.  A special trip to my favorite paper store was very necessary for this venture.  (Paper Source has an entire back wall of every size blank card to go in every size envelope in every color imaginable.  It is my happy place.)  My first thank-you hits the mailbox tomorrow.  The problem? (… that really is a blessing.)  I have far too many people for whom to be thankful in my life.  How on earth do I choose?
November, I think I welcome you.  I look forward to the bustling busy of the days to come with a new class on the book of Psalms, a Gap outlet shopping trip, a concert or two, a week break at Thanksgiving, and the possibility (more like promise) of the first snow.  You’re going to come and go faster than I please and probably before I can say (or complete), “rostered leader profile.” *  

*Papers upon papers of carefully thought out words and decisions and regions that will go to the powers that be to decide my fate for assignment as a pastor.  Due December 1.

smitten.

28 Oct
I got my hair cut yesterday.  Six weeks had passed since the last cut and my head was showing it.  It was time for a trim, a little boost.  With Brent.  And I am so smitten by him.  Again.
I am smitten by my gay hair stylist.  I love how he cuts my hair and gives me tips to manage my curls.  (He told me that with my hair type, I should only be washing my hair every third day.  Ew?  On other days, just rinse and condition.  We’ll see about that …)  I like how when he dries my hair after washing, he make a conscious effort to dry the inside of my ears with the towel.  (Creepy?  Possibly.)
We also talked about his dad.  The last (which was the first) time I saw Brent for a haircut, he told me he was jetting home to Arkansas that night to be with his family as his dad underwent heart surgery.  All is well.  Recovery is happening in wonderful ways.
While I’m smitten with him, I’m not smitten with the cost.  He told me – as he helped me put on my coat – that he had his review last month and has moved to the next level of stylist, which means his price increases.  Now, my next haircut with Brent in the big city will cost nearly as much as THREE (also awesome) haircuts at the Aveda salon in Montevideo, where I got my hair cut while on internship.  eek.

you. (me too.)

26 Oct
The process goes like this – I interviewed for approval with two faculty members of Luther Seminary, one being my advisor.  From there, they write a statement, either recommending the candidate or not, and bring it to a small group of faculty.  Once the small group approves it, my name is on a list of all approval candidates and will be voted on by the entire faculty.  … yea … complicated.  (necessary?  well.  not my call.)
Where am I going?  Here.  I received an email from my advisor today with the statement of my approval which will be presented to the small group of faculty.  Despite spelling my name incorrectly – I’m forever a Lindsey – it feels wonderful to read the things that were written.  I feel that they have an accurate sense of my call to ministry and gifts, including, “Lindsey takes great joy in how justification by grace alone make us children of God.  This doctrine opens up to her the love of God she hopes to share with others in and through her ministry.”  (That’s how it currently reads.  After a follow-up email, it will hopefully begin with “Lindsay.”)
I read the statement written about me for approval – specifically focusing on those two sentences I shared above – and then I found this photo on another blog.  It fits.  Believe it for yourself and those around you.

Believe it, originally uploaded by silent sequoias.

1.21 gigawatts.

25 Oct
“What the hell is a gigawatt?”
It was on this day, twenty five years ago, that Marty McFly went back in time to the red letter date in history of November 5, 1955.  October 25, 1985.  Thus began the back and forth journeys of Doc Brown and Marty, making up the Back to the Future trilogy.
Now, if you were unaware, Back to the Future is my favorite movie.  If anyone asks what my favorite film is, there is no hesitation.  There’s no list of two or five that share the first place spot.  Back to the Future.  Hands down.  Favorite.
Sometimes people ask me why it’s my favorite.  It is kind of an odd choice of favorite movie, not shared with many others.  Back to the Future is a movie I grew up watching.  Remember when McDonald’s sold movies – just a few choices at a time – with the purchase of a meal or something?  I think we bought the Back to the Future vhs in a McDonald’s deal for $5.  I remember watching it as a family, specifically with my dad.  He loved the movie and I grew up watching it with him, asking questions about how the pieces all fit together, and quoting parts of the movie.  We used to quote and act out scenes in the tobacco strip house with my cousins, Mike and Kyle.  (I can still picture Mike using a tobacco lathe as his guitar, doing his impression of Marty McFly’s guitar solo at the 1955 Enchantment Under the Sea mating ritual.)  As I grew older and watched the movies more, I loved how they all fit together.  I loved watching it one more time and finding another similarity or something that answered a question from the movie prior.  
It’s a special day – a heavy day, if you will.  (“Weight has nothing to do with it.”)  The AMC theater is playing Back to the Future tonight at 7pm … but I have class.  What may be my one chance to see my favorite movie on the big screen is being trumped by a class on youth culture.  Tonight, we’re talking about body modification … ick.  I guess I’ll drink my Pepsi free in class instead of at the theater watching the digitally remastered classic.  (“If you’re going to have a Pepsi, son, you’re gonna have to pay for it.”) And maybe I’ll wear my brown “life preserver” as tribute to Marty’s red one.  (“Dork thinks he’s gonna drown.”)  And eat peanut brittle from a bowl like George.  Yes.  This will work.

(I don’t actually like peanut brittle.  This won’t work.  I still wish I were at the theater.)

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