Why Obey?

Why Obey?

A sermon preached at First Presbyterian Church, Burbank (March 7, 2010), and the Chicago Presbytery (March 22, 2010)

2 Peter 3:8-15a
8But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

10But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare.

11Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives 12as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. 13But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.

14So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him. 15Bear in mind that our Lord's patience means salvation.

The summer before I started high school, my parents made me get a job. This was not in my plan for the summer. As a typical teenager, steeped in the art of persuasion, I tried everything I could think of to talk them out of it (you know, arguments like: “But I have the rest of my LIFE to work!”). No matter what I tried, they remained firm in their decision. After my eighth grade graduation, I soon found myself at a nearby resort every Saturday morning, cleaning cabins. I hated this. I hated getting up early, I hated cleaning up other peoples’ messes (especially at an age where cleaning my own room seemed to be a monumental task). Most of all, I hated being forced to do a job that I didn’t want to do.

Only one thing kept me going: The resort owners came around regularly to check my work. I worked so that I wouldn’t get caught not working. I didn’t want to get in trouble. Needless to say, I worked with a grudge in my heart and a scowl on my face.

Do you ever feel like the living the Christian life is a job you don’t want to do? Obedience can feel like quite a chore, and at times following Jesus feels more like drudgery than joy. The commands of Scripture to love our enemies, to give generously, to serve the poor among us, to care for one another, and to walk faithfully with our Lord are meant for our good, but sometimes they feel like just the opposite. Why should we obey when we don’t feel like it?

Our passage today from 2 Peter speaks to the issue of obedience. The passage begins with the author writing about what to expect at the end of the world, referred to here as the “day of the Lord.” The day of the Lord is a time when God will return to bring about a “new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells” according to verse 13. The old earth will pass away, and there will be no more pain or sorrow. Instead of creation’s ongoing struggle, there will be peace. Righteousness will dwell on the earth.

Some of you may be wondering what others in the early church wondered: “Well, where is this day? Why hasn’t the Lord come back? And why should we bother obeying when God will fix everything in the day of the Lord, anyway?” This question becomes even more pressing when we see injustice or experience suffering. The recent earthquake crises in Haiti and Chile are just one tragic example. Closer to home, we may know friends or family members struggling with chronic illnesses, loneliness or financial ruin. We may be in the midst of a time of great suffering ourselves. With all that’s wrong with the world, what’s God waiting for? God promises us this new heaven and new earth, so why hasn’t God come back already?

But let’s wait just a second. This time will indeed be a time of great celebration, but we also know from today’s passage that the day of the Lord will be a time of adjudication as well. 2 Peter verse 10 ends by saying that “the earth and everything done on it will be found out.” Yikes! Now maybe we might feel a bit more hesitant about wanting this day to come. Everything that is done will be found out. In another translation, this verse reads “Everything done on the earth will be disclosed.”

A logical move to make here would be to say, “Well, we’d certainly better behave, because Jesus is coming back, and he knows what we’re up to!” And in a sense, this is true. Not in the Jesus-is-out-to-get-us sense, but in the sense that God is always present with us, and knows our hearts, our minds, and our actions. Scripture tells us that we will face our creator someday. And this should give us pause when we are tempted to live lives of purposeful disobedience, taking no notice of God’s Word to us. God is real, Jesus is coming back, and we are called to live our lives in light of this truth. So yes, this is one reason to obey. The Lord does know our hearts and see our actions, and according to 2 Peter, upon Christ’s return, everything will be found out.

Yet, praise be to God, this is not the full message of the good news or this passage. For the gospel is genuinely GOOD news, not just warning that God is watching our every move like some sort of temperamental cosmic babysitter, waiting for us to mess up. We do not serve a God who desires the same begrudging obedience I gave when I cleaned those cabins. Living in obedience because we’re afraid of judgment can be a bitter and resentful way to live, and it is not the way to abundant life that Christ proclaims to us in Scripture. Wisely, Scripture gives us other, more important and joyful reasons to live in obedience in light of the Lord’s day to come.

First, we are to live in obedience because the Lord, in his infinite grace and love, is waiting for us to turn to Christ with our lives. The start of 2 Peter 3, verse 9 reads: “The Lord is not slow in keeping [the Lord’s] promise...Instead the Lord is patient with you…wanting all people to come to repentance.”

Most of us aren’t naturally very patient. We’ve probably all been in a situation recently where someone has pushed us to the brink of our patience. Spouses can be good at doing this. I don’t have any children, but I’ve heard that they are great at this. Someone gets under our skin and just pushes and pushes and pushes, until finally… we snap. We say something we shouldn’t, we storm from the room, or we internalize our anger and let it eat away at us. This is a very human response to being pushed. Yet, God does not snap. God does not act out of momentary spite. Unlike the popular children’s book about crazy hippos, God does not ever “go berserk.” God is patient, even when we haven’t earned this patience. Even when we live lives of willful disobedience.

Why is God patient with us? The answer is here, at the end of verse 9: “…the Lord is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” God is patient because he wants us all to turn to Christ. God waits so that all people have a chance to turn from the darkness to the light. Think of all those who have not heard the good news of the Gospel. God, in love, is waiting for them. Think of times in your life (maybe you’re in one right now), when you wandered away from living in faith and obedience. When we wander away and allow ourselves to be drawn in by wealth or power, fame or familiarity, idolatry, safety, or selfishness, the Lord is waiting for us. God wants to take away the bondage of our sin and the pain that it inevitably causes ourselves and those around us. Verse 15 puts it this way: “Our Lord’s patience means salvation.”

Therefore, in its most life-giving form, our obedience is our loving response to a loving God who wants to save us, care for us, and heal us. As further evidence of God’s love, in verse 13 God promises a “new heaven and a new earth.” Not only can we be free from sin’s bondage when we turn or return to the Lord in repentance, but one day we will no longer be surrounded with sin’s devastating effects. We will be part of the new heaven and the new earth, where righteousness dwells. The reason for obedience is that when we obey, we are serving a good, merciful, loving God who offers us freedom, grace, and healing in Christ.

Secondly, we are to obey because our obedience is for our good. Verse 14 instructs us to “make every effort to be spotless, blameless, and at peace with God.” Why? Not only because it brings God glory but because it brings us life. This is vitally important to understand: the Lord calls us to obedience not just for God’s glory but also for our good. God is not a cruel master, asking for obedience to a host of random manipulative tasks. The lives Christ calls us to live—lives of obedient sacrifice, discipleship, justice, holiness, and love—are lives that bring life and wholeness to us and to those around us.

Put another way, lives of disobedience turn us into prisoners. Earlier in 2 Peter the author reminds us that people are “slaves to whatever has mastered them.” In Octavia Butler’s novel The Parable of the Talents, Butler writes of a future world where crime is rampant and the government has become utterly corrupt. One of Butler’s characters, Len, loses her mother to an addiction when Len is only a teenager. This addiction isn’t to drugs or alcohol, but rather to a virtual reality room where she can be anywhere she wants. In a broken world, Len’s mother spends her days in virtual Paris or the virtual Bahamas, relating to virtual friends. When Len enters the room to talk to her mother, she is berated for interrupting her mother’s ongoing fantasy. What started out as an enjoyable activity has actually become a trap. Len’s mother has become a slave to her virtual world, and cannot escape it. Her own desire for escape has mastered her and turned her into a prisoner.

This caution from 2 Peter continues to be a prophetic one for us today. Human beings continue to be “slaves to whatever has mastered them.” What turns you into a prisoner instead of a free disciple of Christ? You know the hurdles for your own obedience (and we all have them!). Though living in slavery to sin may be fun for a moment or a season, but will ultimately bring despair. Something that seems fun or rebellious or life-giving for a season ultimately brings despair. Christ came to set us free from this bondage. Thus, we are to live lives of obedience because this obedience helps us walk in the life-giving freedom of the Gospel not only today—right now!—but also tomorrow, next month, and next year, in all its joy and peace.

“But wait,” you may ask. “I do my best to follow Jesus. I make mistakes sometimes, but with God’s help, I always get back up. But my life is hard. I’ve served God faithfully, but my family can’t make ends meet. Sometimes people at work make fun of me for being a Christian. My mom was just diagnosed with cancer. You say that obedience brings life and peace, but it doesn’t feel like it to me. Not right now. My obedience isn’t life-giving. It’s exhausting.”

Friends, this is where the message of the good news about life-giving obedience intersects with the cross of Christ. It’s easy to sell life and peace—any self-help book or spiritual guru can do that. Yet Christianity is about the resurrection and the cross. Death and life. It would be dishonest not to admit that sometimes obedience feels nothing like joy or peace. Sometimes it feels like utter exhaustion, or frustration, or even suffering. In these moments we must not forget where our own Lord’s obedience led him. Christ was obedient even unto death.

Even so, his death was not the end. Christ’s crucifixion, his obedient death on the cross changed everything, for our God is so big that even death cannot contain him. Christ’s death and resurrection changed the world. We do not serve only a crucified Lord—we serve a risen one. Our God has conquered sin and sin’s ultimate end: death. For this reason we have both a present and a future hope.

Our obedience is life-giving both because it helps to unbind us from sin’s entanglements and because it allows us to know our Lord more intimately, to follow him more closely, and to begin to be transformed into his likeness. Please don’t get me wrong—our obedience to God is not what saves us. Only Christ’s work can do that. But through our obedience—by following after Jesus even when it is hard, we begin to know Christ. In Philippians 3, the apostle Paul puts it this way: “I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain the resurrection from the dead.” When we are suffering, we aren’t alone. Christ has suffered on our behalf, and Christ suffers with us in our pain even now.

Indeed, we are invited to encounter the hope of the cross and resurrection in the big sufferings of life and in the daily, common struggle to just get through the day. Not everyday was the day of crucifixion for Jesus in his ministry. Some days, we can only imagine, involved walking from one town to the next town with nothing but the heat, hunger, and the disciples’ innocent, but perhaps annoying questions to keep him company. We follow after Jesus’ obedience in those common moments as well. And as we journey with him we are invited to slowly learn that obedience to him is not about fear that he is looking down on us; it’s about the intimacy of knowing he’s next to us on the journey. This is the intimacy of getting to know him in our daily lives whatever challenge—big or small—may come our way.

While I was cleaning those cabins back in high school I worked because I was afraid of “the day of the Lord” in the form of the “checking in of the owners.” To draw the parallel to our Christian lives, I was being obedient so I wouldn’t get in trouble, and this made my work full of resentment. But what I didn’t tell you earlier was that I didn’t clean those cabins alone. The resort owners’ daughter, Jessie, cleaned them with me. While I begrudgingly scrubbed bathtubs at a snail’s pace, Jessie worked diligently and professionally. I would often quickly proclaim an area of the cabin “good enough” and she would return to carefully double-check each room for any oversights. I thought she was crazy to, but as the summer wore on, she shared with me the reasons behind her diligence.

While I was working just so that I wouldn’t get caught not working, Jessie worked hard because she loved her parents—the owners. She also knew that her obedience worked in her favor. The money she made cleaning those cabins paid for her skating lessons and her soccer uniform. The rental revenue her parents received from the cabins eventually helped send her to college. She worked hard because she knew her parents had her good in mind. While I worked solely out of obligation, Jessie worked with love.

A funny thing happened that summer. Jessie’s diligence started to change my perspective. I began to realize that my bad attitude was actually making the work harder. I eventually joined her and began to work industriously too. And do you know what? The work—though those cabins were exactly the same—got easier. The cabins were cleaned much more quickly when I wasn’t dragging my feet every step of the way, and when we got done early, we often had time to go swimming in the nearby lake, washing away all of the sweat and Windex from our labors.

Just as Jessie taught me, our lives of obedience can teach our friends and families what it means to serve God in love. And this can change their lives, as they turn to the Lord themselves and live out the repentance and holiness 2 Peter talks about.

But remember: living a holy life isn’t merely to be an example for those around us or because God says so. When we follow after Christ, a miraculous thing happens. We find peace with God and within ourselves because we are no longer slaves to sin. We begin to know Christ and to have fellowship with him and with one another. And even when our lives are difficult, we remember that the “day of the Lord” is coming, that Christ suffers with us, and that our present sufferings are “not even worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”[1]

So as you go out to your community, your job, your family, your home today, remember the message of 2 Peter to you and God’s promises of freedom that come with obedience to Christ. This week, and every week, “make every effort to be found spotless, blameless, and at peace with God” (v.14) by God’s abundant grace and the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

[1] Romans 8:18.

Ten on Tuesday (Take Seven)

Thanks to the usual folks.

1. What television character do you identify with?
On my best days, I am CJ Cragg from The West Wing. On my not-so-on-the-ball days I am Donna Moss from The West Wing. On my really-off-the-wall days I am Phoebe, from Friends.

2. Describe your morning routine.
I wake up to my alarm and lay in bed for a few minutes, praying. If I'm extra tired (this is most morning), I'll hit the snooze once or twice. I eat breakfast (cereal, 98% of the time it's cereal... I love the stuff) while I surf the Internet. Because 9/11 happened during my first few weeks at college, I can't really start my day without checking the news. On September 11, 2001, I just got up and went to class right away, before learning about what had happened from a classmate. It really formed part of my morning psyche to want to know if the world is okay.

Then shower, brush teeth, dress, blow-dry, and bolt out the door. Sometimes I have time for makeup, sometimes not. The day goes distinctly better when I do.


3. How do you do lunch? Bring from home or dine out? Same thing every day or mix it up?
Since I live only 3 miles from campus, the easiest and cheapest (and most restful) thing is usually to run home and cook something quick. I've become a huge fan of guacamole and chips, chocolate-chip pancakes, or baked potatoes and veggies for lunch this year (not together, natch).

4. What is one moment that, although seemingly trivial at the time, changed your life?
During the first day of my freshman year I went to Wheaton chapel for the service and quickly realized I didn't know how to get to my class afterward. After the service ended tall guy with a shaved head stood up a couple rows in front of me and yelled, "Does anyone know how to get to Breyer Hall?" Someone in the row immediately in front of me (a sophomore) kindly offered to show him the way. I tagged along.

We all sat together during that first class and ended up forming a study group of four (with one other girl from that class) and met several times a week (enjoyable group studying is the key to learning Greek). We all became fast friends. Four years later, that tall guy and I were dating. Two years after that, we got married. I'm so glad I scheduled Greek at 11:30 on Mondays!

5. Name your top three beauty products.

Mascara, colored lip gloss, and mousse. Without them I look disheveled and undone. With them, I look slightly less so. Also, as my loving sister Caitlyn used to say, my eyes are my "one beauty" so I have to play them up. She was kidding... I think.

6. What do you do when you’re alone in the car?
I fluctuate between the Christian music station and NPR. Lately the Christian station has been playing the same 10 songs over and over and over again, so I've taken to supplementing it with Oldies. A doo ron ron ron a doo ron ron.

7. What is the ideal city for you to live in? If you can, take this test (< that’s a link) and tell us the results. Do you agree with them?

My ideal city is west of Jersey. It might be Nashville, Madison, Los Angeles, Duluth, Jackson Hole, Missoula, Idaho Falls, Glenwood Springs, Seattle, Minneapolis, Portland, or Tuscon. I'm pretty open, just not to the far east coast. Too far from home, too crowded, too East Coast-y. I'm going to miss the accents, though.

Wooter? Seriously? It's WAH-ter, people.

8. Are you waiting for something?

I am indeed. With a few job applications sent off (one to my dream, dream job!), I'm waiting to see what the future holds. I'm waiting (we're almost at 30 days!!!) to live with my husband again. I'm waiting to leave New Jersey and my flooded basement. Right now, most presently, I'm waiting for Easter. It is the very best day.

9. What was the last shocking news you heard?
I heard that a very gifted friend of mine didn't pass an ordination exam. Now he's going to be held up in the process for at least seven more months. I couldn't believe it - he's really bright and gifted, and I felt terrible for him.

This is a hard season  for folks applying  to upper graduate degree programs, too. With the recession, more people are looking at graduate school as a viable alternative, and programs are incredibly competitive. For every dear friend who has gotten an acceptance lately (yay, Peter and Cambria!!!), others have been turned down. My heart aches for them.

Four years ago Daryl was turned down to Princeton's  PhD program. Many advisors and friends had assured him that he would get in, and while we weren't certain, we were very optimistic. When the "no" letter came (Someone at Princeton once corrected Daryl that it isn't a "no," it's that they have "declined to offer you admission." Right. Same difference, friend.) he went straight to the bathroom and threw up. It was a bad, bad day.

We got through it, and so will those who didn't get into the program of their dreams this year, but it's hard. Still, as we look back we're grateful for that bump in the road. It led us to M.Div's at Princeton together. It led us to a deeper understanding of ministry and grace. And now it has led Daryl to Vanderbilt and us out of New Jersey.

10. What are three things you wouldn’t do for a million dollars?
Leave Jesus, cheat on Daryl, and eat a bratwurst. In that order. I'd think about eating that bratwurst, but in the end, I don't think I could do it.

New Baby Pics

Welcome to Sophia Joy!

Here is my mom (aka, Grandma!) with Aleah and her new little sister.

 

New Niece

I have a new niece!

My sister Caitlyn and brother-in-law Jared welcomed their second little girl, Sophia Joy, at 4:45 this morning in Minneapolis.

Their first (Aleah) has bright, bright red hair. Sophia is a dark brunette.

Pictures to follow!

Lily the Bear

My mom sent me this link a couple of days ago. If you catch her when she's awake, it's ultimate cuteness.

Lily the Bear's Den.

On Missing Him

Inspired by my friend, Nish.

This is my Daryl. We've been married for over three years, and I love him more with each one.

We're counting down the days (only 38 now!) until we live together again, when I graduate from my M.Div. program and move to Tennessee with him.

The distance has been terrible. On the phone last night with Daryl I finally found words to describe why it feels so painful. "It's just... unnatural." That's the best way I can describe it. We're married. We love one another. We enjoy each day of our life together, and yet we're spending this year apart. It's absurd, really.

I realize that I am far more blessed than many. I have friends in the military who spend months or even years away from loved ones. But for us, being apart during this year has been hard. Just plain hard.

When I broke my ankle in high school it ached. It didn't hurt that acutely, it just ached. And after a few days of aching, it began to wear me down. Until I had surgery to repair it, nothing made it better. No painkillers or ice or positioning up on a chair took much of the ache away. It just ached, and every once in awhile the ache would be so long-lasting that I would just break down and cry in a choir practice room at school or in my room at home. The ache hadn't become stronger, it just never stopped, and this was exhausting.

In a way, this is what this year has felt like. I don't miss Daryl acutely most of the time. I'm not in terrible emotional pain. I won't die from missing him or "take to the bottle" as some Eagle River folks might say. Yet the ache is always present, and nothing really helps. Distractions help for a little while. Writing papers, rehearsing for the play, traveling to Chicago for meetings, all of these help a little. Morning "I love you" emails from him help a little. Phone calls late at night help; praying together before we go to sleep helps. But the ache is always present. My sorrows are deeper because I cannot share them with Daryl in person. My celebrations are more muted because he is not here to rejoice with me. The dinners I cook are usually haphazard because I often eat them alone. Nothing says "I'm living the life of a single graduate student again" like the dinner I ate last night of guacamole, tortilla chips, and (microwaved) scrambled eggs.

I turned in my PIF (the PCUSA's ministry application) earlier today. It's been a long road to get to the point where I am allowed to do this, so it was a big (okay, HUGE) accomplishment. I called Daryl to share the news, and he celebrated with me. But what I wanted was a "yay! you did it!" hug. A big Daryl bear-hug of congratulations. And I will get it, though I will have to wait another week first. Like I said - it's hard being apart.

Still, God has met us in incredible ways this year. When I met with my Presbytery in Chicago this week, several folks commented that I seemed to have a "new maturity" they didn't see in me last year. I think this is true for us both. After learning to depend on one another in marriage for our first years together, this year apart has taught us to be independent once again, while still relying on each other for support and encouragement. I have a greater sense of self and identity after living through this year. I know more about who I am and what I want, and more about following after Jesus even when my heart aches each moment.

Since this is intended to be a post about Daryl and not about me, here are ten things I love, love, love about him (and also reasons why I can't wait for May!).

1. He is joyful.

2. He is brilliant.
One of the reasons I began to fall in love with Daryl was because I couldn't beat him in an argument. He stood his ground, and he had support to back up his claims. I was fascinated by his mind, and I still am. During my final readiness review at the Presbytery my committee asked me several theological questions and then remarked at how poised and calm I was in my answers. "Well, I do live with a theologian," I said. "We do this over dinner." This is true. And I love it. I'm never, ever bored in our conversations, and there's always something new that's piqued his interest from his reading or writing that he wants to share. This isn't limited to theology, either. There's philosophy, sociology, biblical history, anthropology, and biology floating around in his head, too. He definitely makes for a great road-tripping partner.

3. He is practical.
 I've mentioned this before, but Daryl is the catalyst that makes me go to sleep. One of the worst habits I've developed in his absence is staying up until all hours of the night and dragging my feet on the way to bed. Daryl doesn't think like this. He's mister, "Well, it's time for bed." When we are together he actually brings me my toothbrush as a way to make me head for bed. He knows that once I have to get up and spit, I'll head to bed on my own. It's brilliant, really.

4. He is thoughtful.
I've written before about Daryl's incredible kindness in flying out last minute to rescue our cat. What husband flies hundreds of miles to force-feed a cat? Mine does.

5. He loves Jesus.
Daryl once admitted to me that before he officially decided to marry me, he had one big hurdle to get over. He knew that if he married me, I would follow after Jesus and always, always, always encourage him to do the same. Things that were harder for him, like tithing, would be done because I would encourage them. After we became engaged, I had the same sorts of feelings. Not that either of us was in danger of losing our faith, but marrying someone who is passionate about following Christ is another safeguard our lives of faith. When we are too exhausted to pray, we have someone to pray on our behalf. When we have doubts or concerns, someone is around to help answer them. This was my most basic criteria for a husband, and Daryl meets it 200%.

6. He can cook!
Boy, do I miss this... I grew up with a father and mother who both cooked (and well!), so sharing responsibilities in the kitchen is a sure way to my heart. Cooking me dinner is an even surer way, and when we're together he does this often.

7. He is hilarious.
 I miss not being able to fall asleep because we're lying in bed laughing together. Often when one of us has had a bad day and are talking about it, we'll just dissolve into laughter. I mean, think about it, how many bad days are really funny when it comes right down to it? So many times we begin with frustration or irritation and end in giggles.

8. He is giving.


9. He loves sports.
This might sound a little silly, but I grew up with sports on the television often. My Dad is a great lover of sports (according to my mom, he'll "watch anything with a ball"). So to marry someone who is much the same makes me feel really at home. Depending on the season our Saturdays are full of football, college basketball, World Cup games, NBA basketball, or the occasional baseball or hockey game. And I do now what I did as a kid - find something to busy myself with (crochet and crosswords if I'm relaxing, schoolwork if I'm not), and sit with the man of the house. Despite myself I'm almost becoming a fan, too...


10. He loves me. 
He really does. Not just on paper. Not just a little. The first thing I do when I wake up is pray. Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his book Life Together writes about the importance of giving God the first and last words in a day, and I agree. So I pray, asking the Lord for guidance, thanking God for waking me up to a brand new day. And then I think about how blessed I am to have such a husband, and how much I can't wait to live with him again... Soon. Very, very soon.

I'll just make it.

Sunny California

Our spring break trip to Los Angeles was, as always, wonderful in a thousand ways. Why we don't live there I don't know...

This is Bel Air, my favorite street in Burbank. It just screams, "Yay! You're in California!"

We went to the beach in Ventura. Out in California we always spend a lot of (wonderful) time with Daryl's family, so because of our long-distance year we took one day just for us and drove up the coast to Santa Barbara. It was so, so, so gorgeous up there.

We went to the Farmer's Market.

We bought the world's tastiest oranges.

We ate tasty meals.

We hung around the beach. It wasn't warm (50s and 60s), but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Daryl always looks 100% himself in California, as if he's been waiting to put on his sandals, shorts, and shades for months (which he probably has).

I gave Daryl Laker's tickets for Christmas, so we got to see a game one of the nights we were in town.

He thought it was a pretty rockin' present.

As for me, I've become a bit of a fan myself...

And they won! After a three-game losing streak! With a buzzer-beater! Yeah, it was awesome.

I had breakfast with Hannah, a friend from Eagle River who is pursuing an acting career in Hollywood, and Jinelle, a friend from Eagle River who won a silver medal at this year's Olympics!

She let me wear the medal, which was pretty cool.

Jinelle was in Burbank to film the Ellen show with her team. Aaaaand... in this picture I am in desperate need of a tan.

For most of our visit, we stayed with Paul and Luanne, Daryl's friends-who-are-practically-family. They cooked us some delicious meals and stayed up talking with us until late in the night. This is June, Paul's mom. She's a really wonderful lady.

And we got to see Jenn and Curt, Daryl's friends from high school. I love that getting married means you double your friend base. Daryl has incredible, caring friends, and now they're my friends, too!

Daryl's grandma was in the hospital for part of our stay, so we went to visit her. During one of our visits Daryl's dad and aunt, Alex, were there, too. She's doing a little bit better now.

We had dinner at P.F. Chang's with Daryl's dad, step-mom Deborah, and step-brother Greg. P.F. Chang's has a great gluten-free menu (and it's on the back of the regular menu, so I feel like a regular customer!), and they were nice enough to base our dinner meeting based on what worked best for me. Greg was nice enough to celebrate Princeton for us.

We had some good time with Daryl's mom and brother, Dave, too. One night we hung out with Dave and his wife Emily up in Santa Monica, but I forgot the camera...

We spent a night at Jonathan and Jessica's. Married for just five months, their house is already settled and really cute.

They made us creme brulee for dessert! Daryl was brave enough to torch his own; I was not.

Kent drove down from Whittier for an In 'n Out lunch. I tried to take a picture under the In 'n Out sign, but some lady nearly ran me over with her car. She was in a hurry for some burgers...

More than anything, it was great to have a week with Daryl. A whole week, like normal married people have. I can't wait for May, when daily life together like this just becomes a regular part of life.

Abundance

Our God is a God of abundance.

This can be easy to forget. As Daryl and I headed off to seminary three years ago, I remember confiding some of my shallow fears to him during our drive from Chicago to New Jersey.

"I don't want to be shabby," I said (as if that were the worst fate that could befall a 20-something woman). "I know we're going to have to sacrifice a lot, and I know that money will be really tight, but I don't want to look shabby." I had visions of wearing the same handful of t-shirts every day to class and work, of scrounging at thrift stores for a wearable pair of shoes, of graduating from seminary without a single fashionable or well-fitting piece of clothing to wear before my Presbytery for an important meeting.

How quickly our thoughts can go crazy when faced with the prospect of sacrifices--even small ones.

My deepest fears (of course) never came to fruition. Not only do most of my clothes from three years ago still work fine, but friends and family members have been generous with Christmas and birthday gifts to help us through seminary financially. We've had to budget, certainly. We have some student loan debt from our schooling, despite my part-time jobs, but that was to be expected. But God has always provided for us. Sometimes via our home church, sometimes via friends and family, sometimes in surprising ways. In a year full of plane trips, we've each been bumped several times and received free flight vouchers. Through the kindness of friends, we ended up with a free place for Daryl to stay in Nashville and a free car to use for the academic year. Just the other day I opened up an envelope full of crossword puzzles (my grandma cuts them out of the paper and mails them to me - always one of the happy things in my week!), and $20 fluttered out onto the floor. We're reminded almost daily that God has not forgotten us.

I'm held speech conferences last week with the junior seminary students. We watched their video presentations of Scripture and poetry readings and talked about how they've progressed over the semester. Then we discussed their final projects: a reading and retelling of a Scripture passage of their choice. One of the students brought in a passage from John - the wedding at Cana. After she left the conference I found myself riveted to the passage and to all it says about who our God is.

Here is the passage:

 On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus' mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus' mother said to him, "They have no more wine."
 "Dear woman, why do you involve me?" Jesus replied, "My time has not yet come."
 His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you."
 Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.
 Jesus said to the servants, "Fill the jars with water"; so they filled them to the brim.
 Then he told them, "Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet."
   They did so, and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, "Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now."
 This, the first of his miraculous signs, Jesus performed in Cana of Galilee. He thus revealed his glory, and his disciples put their faith in him.

With Easter approaching, it's a great time to think about abundance. Christ doesn't just conquer sin and death on our behalf, he destroys it. He rises from the dead. He brings us new life, not just band-aids for our wounds. He redeems and transforms us, doesn't just help us to behave ourselves.

I love the theme of this passage in John. The wedding is out of wine. Sometimes I'm tempted to view this lack of wine as just a cultural faux pas, and surely God doesn't care about this, right? Why should the God of the universe care about a small wedding that has run out of the beverage of choice? Can't the people just make do without it? Why bother God with such a silly request? But to God, no request is silly. And not only that, God breaks in with the miraculous into the mundane. God does more and better than the people's request. God doesn't give us just enough, so we can squeak by. God breaks in with abundance. Our cups overflow. The wine is not only more than enough for the wedding, but it is the best wine.

We don't always get what we want from God, but we get what we need. And often, we get over and above what we even asked. I was afraid of being shabby in outward appearance during seminary, but during my time here the Lord has spoken to my heart, stretched me in my ministerial gifts, and helped me to mature in my faith. My heart is stronger than it was, and my sense of self more firm. God has given me all of that and a new pair of shoes now and again. The shoes seem silly, but God cares about the sparrows and my need to be presentable and professional has not escaped God either. I have not been forgotten, even in my smallest need. Neither have you. Our God is a God of abundance.

*The "Wedding at Cana" artwork is by Dr. He Qi, seminary professor at Union Seminary of Nanjing, and is found here.

Thankful

It's been a rough re-entry to Princeton after this year's Los Angeles pilgrimage for many reasons...

It took me nearly 24 hours to get home after being bumped from a flight on which I already had a boarding pass (thanks, United).

It took me 24 more hours to get my suitcase, when they sent to Newark after flying me to Philadelphia (thanks again, United).

Upon my arrival home to my apartment, bleary-eyed and exhausted, I discovered two things:

1) There was a leak in our ceiling, and the ceiling had become soaked, smelly, and moldy over 1/3 of the bedroom.

2) Our Internet was down. And didn't come back on for days.

Needless to say, the above things, when combined, were enough to make me quite cranky. And when I'm cranky, I usually just need to go to sleep. Which I did. But then I woke up and the ceiling was still leaking and the Internet was still down and my suitcase... well, you get the picture. If sleep doesn't cure the cranky, sometimes gratitude can.

So here's what I'm grateful for now, today, after a difficult re-entry and a long semester of separation.

1. Difficult Lessons. Yes, I'm thankful for the lessons of this year. This year I've learned that I am stronger than I ever thought. I've killed my own spiders, taken my car in to get it fixed, done all of the housework while still working two jobs and going to school full-time. I've reached out to old friends and made new ones. I've taken responsibility for my health and stopped eating wheat and gluten entirely. I've served on-call at the hospital overnight on my own. I've gotten myself out of bed on mornings where Daryl would have had to pry me out with a crowbar, had he been around. I've been independent and married together, held the two in tension, and worked to strengthen my marriage even from a distance. I've learned that I need Jesus desperately, and that when nothing makes the ache of missing Daryl go away, there is nothing to do but feel that pain and live through it, moment by moment.

2. Uncertainty. Yes, I'm thankful for uncertainty. This is the way I learn to trust God. Next year I'm not sure where I'll be working. I hope and pray for a job as a minister, but in many ways that is out of my hands and in God's. When I don't remember this, I become anxious. When I do remember it, I am at peace. God is the God of our uncertainty as well as of our joy and hope. God is bigger than my uncertainty, and stronger than my unknown future. I don't like uncertainty very much, but I'm grateful for it.

3. The Fact That Seasons Have Ends. I remember once, in undergrad, I was struggling with a time of real sadness. Over dinner with Daryl (who I wasn't dating at the time), he told me that "we all go through seasons." Oddly enough, this had never really struck me before. To me, emotions and difficult times often feel as though they will never end. If I'm sad today and tomorrow, who's to say I won't be sad forever? But this is not the way our lives usually work. And he was right - in another week or two, the sadness, which turned out to be mostly a product of final exams, little sleep, and a romantic breakup, had lifted.

I'm thankful that this season of separation from Daryl is nearly at its end. I could only endure it for a season, and that season ends May 4. And it will usher in a new season of life - Nashville, a new job (I hope!), a new place to live, a new season of marital togetherness. Praise Jesus.

4. The Play. The seminary is putting on "The Caucasian Chalk Circle" on April 8-11. And it's going to be awesome. And it is so, so, so, so fun to spend my evenings rehearsing, singing, acting, and generally remembering what it's like to do something just for the fun of it with twenty other people. After sitting at work or studying all day, it's pretty amazing to remember that I am capable of more than typing, reading, and emailing...

5. My Princeton Friends. I will miss these folks. I've made incredible, dear, wonderful friends during my time at seminary. Many of them are graduating and leaving, too, which makes it easier to graduate and move on myself. But this is a wonderful community. Princeton's married housing, affectionately known as "CR-Dub," is a little microcosm of Christian community. People have barbeques together, fold each other's laundry, hang out on each other's porches. Probably half of my girl-time I spend walking around the neighborhood with friends, just talking. It's free, it's exercise, and it's healing to my soul.

6. My Cattens. Yes, I love them. Yes, we call them the cattens. Eliot is usually "Ells-bells," and Kenyon is usually "Kenny-ken-ken."

7. Sleep. When I got overtired as a teenager (and cranky as a result), my mom would tell me, kindly, that I just needed sleep. I always found this condescending and annoying. I was practically an adult! I could take care of my own needs! How dare she say I just needed sleep! Then, I would go to bed and realize that yes, I did just need sleep. It can cure a lot of things. And, thanks be to God, a new day brings with it newness and hope. Without Daryl around I struggle to go to bed on time (or some nights, before 3am...). I'm working on this. So tonight, at 12:01am, I am off to bed, because sleep is a gift, and I'm going to untie its bow, rip off its wrapping paper, and crawl into bed.

'Night all.

Ten on Tuesday (Take Six)

 Courtesy of my friend, Megan.


1. If you were given an hour to use a $200 Amazon gift card, what would you buy?
Novels. Glorious, interesting, assorted novels. I always have a running list of ten or twelve that I'm dying to read, and there's something about owning them in paperback that makes me infinitely happy. They're like reading candy, with all their beautiful colored jackets. I don't own them to be selfish, either. I probably give 3/4 of them away to friends because I love them (the novels and the friends) so much I want them to be together.

Over break I read this, and it was amazing:

2. Are there any fairly common foods that you’ve never had?
I'm scared of sauerkraut, and have avoided it to this point. Is that common? Also, brats are a staple in Wisconsin, and I've never eaten one. I had a babysitter when I was in kindergarten that told me I couldn't leave the table until I ate the brat she cooked for me. I sat there until my mom came to pick me up hours later. Totally worth it.


3. What was your favorite way to use your imagination as a kid?
My sisters and I (and my friend Tonia, once she had been ingrafted into the sisterhood) put on elaborate shows. Dancing shows, musical shows, ice skating shows. They were complicated and involved many, many costume changes. I was always the star. Tonia was the secondary star. Poor Caitlyn was relegated to the supporting characters - Chip, the teacup, when we played Beauty and the Beast. Rajah, the tiger, when we played Aladdin. She was a good sport and I owe her many nice Christmas presents for putting up with my bossy self.

4. What’s your favorite state? Why?
I love Wisconsin. Always, always will. I've now lived in five states (WI, IL, NJ, CO, and CA), been to almost all of them (minus the Pacific northwest, which I am dying, dying, dying to see!), and they all have their own type of charm. Sometimes that charm takes a bit to uncover (NJ?), and other times it's so obvious it smacks you in the face (CA!), but it's always there in some form. It just can't compare to the kindness-of-strangers charm of Wisconsin.

5. If it was our culture to have our parents choose our spouses, do you think yours would make a good choice?
Oh goodness... In some ways yes (he would certainly love Jesus) and in other ways, maybe no. I love my Daryl, and I don't know if he is the guy they would have chosen for me in part because they never would have run into him in his Los Angeles habitat (though now they're thrilled I chose him!). I'm encouraged to know that they never would have chosen someone like one of my well-meaning relatives once did. He set us up on a date of sorts, and the first thing prospective-boyfriend-guy asked me was, "So.... can you cook?" Date over.

6. What’s your favorite herb?
I'm with Megan on this one. Cilantro. Though rosemary is a close second, especially with beef in soups. Mmmm... When we move to Nashville I'm starting an herb garden. Mmmm... fresh rosemary!

7. If you could have dinner with one celebrity, who would you choose?
Assuming we mean celebrity in terms of movies/film, Jeff Bridges. Married to his wife for 33 years, an incredible actor, just won a well-deserved Oscar, plus: he's the dude!

If we can include novelists, then my list grows much, much longer. I always wanted to meet David Foster Wallace, but sadly, that can no longer happen.

As for sports figures, I have a pretty substantial figure-skating crush on Evan Lysacek and I certainly wouldn't mind meeting Brett Favre or Derek Fisher.

8. What’s your favorite Disney movie?
I love Ratatouille. It is the perfect adult-kid movie, and it symbolizes the relationship with food I am now discovering (good food = gooooooood food). In my more kid-like moments I love Monsters, Inc. the best. As a kid I was head-over-heels in love with Aladdin. I wanted to BE Princess Jasmine with a pet tiger and a scandalous midriff-bearing blue outfit, riding magic carpets. Sometimes I still do.

9. If you had to listen to the same song over and over for 24 hours, what song would you choose?
"You're Beautiful" by James Blunt. I don't know why. It's kind of a dumb song, actually, but the acoustic-y melody gets in my head and helps me to be productive. In English graduate school I would play this on repeat until Daryl would change it himself, he was so tired of it. But hey, James helped me write some pretty darn good papers!

10. How do you order your steak?
Medium well, unless I'm trying to impress someone, like the French chef at the restaurant Daryl and I were gifted a dinner at over spring break. Then I say medium, so I don't sound so uncultured and charcoal-loving. And sometimes I even enjoy a medium steak, though sometimes (I'm embarrassed to admit), I just eat around the periphery and save the innards for Daryl, who likes his meat to moo.

Share Your Airport Rant

At first, I was mad at Delta. Delta stranded me in Cincinnati for two days, made me pay for my own ($$$!) hotel room, lost my baggage, then sent my baggage to Cincinnati after I was already back in Princeton. To add insult to injury, I got stranded on my way to see my best friend in all the world before she left to deploy for IRAQ. Instead of two days to catch up and relax and see each other, we had eleven hours. Stellar.

Then, I was upset at American. Long story that one. Rude flight attendants, no gate agents, Allentown, PA... Never again. Nuh-uh.

Today, I am angry at United. Long story, I don't want to go into all the gory details now or I will just get angrier. The short version is that my sweet week-long visit with Daryl ended with a slightly delayed red-eye flight that resulted in a flat-out airport sprint in Chicago with ten other passengers (nothing like a flat-out airport spring to bond you with New Jersey strangers). This said flat-out sprint ended with us all breathlessly reaching the gate for a flight that supposedly "left early" (we all would have been just on time) but was clearly still sitting on the tarmac, connected to the jet bridge for another twenty minutes after we got there. Oh, also? No flights to Newark until tomorrow. And it's currently 6am. So now I'm at the Chicago airport buying expensive Internet, biding my time until they fly me to Philadelphia in vie hours where I can then attempt to locate my luggage which supposedly has been sent to Newark. Rock on, United.

To add to the fun, I only got about an hour of sleep on the red-eye (some college kid in the seat in front of us was watching "Father of the Bride" and chuckling hysterically with each scene... I'm glad she was enjoying such a wholesome movie, but honestly, put a lid on it at 3am!), I had a super-fun gluten-attack, and I haven't showered since yesterday. I feel tummy-achey, zombie-fied, and greasy like an oil rig.

I have lots of wonderful updates to post about our Los Angeles visit, which I will do shortly. It was a really sweet time of fellowship, family, and sunshine, and I was (as always) sad to leave. But today's post is dedicated to the airport rant.

Daryl has his own rant. As soon as the folks behind the counter at the gate announce the boarding of first class, he begins grumbling about how the "special people" get to walk on the "magic carpet."

My rant is usually about the inhumanity of it all. Barth writes about "Lordless powers," bastions of evil that are faceless, nameless, and incredibly oppressive. In some small way, this is what dealing with an airport/airline feels like. Whenever something goes wrong, and it inevitably does, there are two options: 1) crabby gate agent who has been dealing with irate customers all day because of problems that almost always aren't his/her fault, or 2) customer service hotline, where you will be on hold until you grow a beard (even if you're a woman), and will finally talk to someone in another country.

After getting the runaround for over an hour during one lost-luggage airport debacle awhile back (mind you, we had only brought carry-on bags, but they had taken them away from us on the plane and checked them through to our final destination which was, as it turns out, the moon), Daryl finally asked the woman at the other end of the line where she was. "The Philippines," was her answer. He cracked up. "So you're in the Philippines trying to help me find my luggage that is supposed to be in Cincinnati, Ohio, but has accidentally been sent to New York?" To her credit, she cracked up a little, too. It is comical, really, when it isn't all infuriating.

Hopefully I'll make it home today. Hopefully I won't be giggling like the Mad Hatter when I do. So help me out, friends. What's your worst airport story? Or what's your best one - the one where they stuck you in first class for no reason and gave you free strawberries and bon-bons? How do you feel about airport travel, and how can we all make it through without losing our minds? Share!

In Only Fifteen Hours...

Tomorrow I am going here:

To be with him:

And have an excuse to wear shoes like these and toenail polish like this:

Even though I'm madly cleaning the house and finishing up some grading, I am still smiling hugely in anticipation...

On Slow Learning

On Slow Learning

by Scott Cairns

If you have ever owned

a tortoise, you already know

how terribly difficult

paper training can be

for some pets.

Even if you get so far 

as to instill in your tortoise

the value of achieving the paper,

there remains an obstacle--

your tortoise's intrinsic sloth.

Even a well-intentioned tortoise

may find himself, in his journeys,

to be painfully far from the mark.

Failing, your tortoise may shy away

for weeks within his shell, utterly

ashamed, or looking up with tiny,

wet eyes might offer an honest shrug.

Forgive him.

How Much Do You Weigh?

In the past two weeks, I've had two encounters with relatively thin women who were asked about their weight (for a relatively good reason) and sort of flipped out about it.

The first one was asked for a costume fitting for the seminary spring play. On a piece of paper we were asked to put down basic information that would be helpful to our costume designer. Among them were height, shoe size, and weight. Then she measured us each for bust, waist, hips, arm length, etc. One of the women in the show did NOT want to write her weight down. Didn't want to do it. Just left it blank.

Now, mind you, this woman is pretty thin. She definitely weighs less than I do. Also, she was about to be measured anyway. So why the concern over writing the number down on a sheet that only the director and the costume designer would see, especially when said costume designer was about to head after her with a tape measure anyway? After the director called her in and told that she had to write down her weight if she wanted a part, she finally wrote the number down, but added an "ish" at the end.

The second time was yesterday in the seminary's Senior Placement office. A woman who is a bit taller and only slightly heavier than I am was filling out the cap and gown order form in front of me. I assume the form only asks for your weight in case you won't actually fit in the regular gown sizes. They're pretty roomy (tent-like, actually), so I'm sure it's only occasionally necessary information when they need to go up a gown size for width rather than just height. Basically, she could have lied by a good hundred and fifty pounds, and it wouldn't have mattered. But she wouldn't write it down. After protesting a bit to the administrative assistant, she just left it blank.

I would have understood these two women much better if they were seriously overweight. But they weren't. Neither of them. They both fell easily into the average-to-thin category. Both were beautiful (and not just "beautiful on the inside" beautiful, but really quite outwardly attractive). Both seemed confident and poised.

So what gives, friends? Why can this simple number mean so much?  Why is it so freighted with worry and anxiety? What about our worth depends upon reaching a certain number, and what is so shameful in rising above it? Who decides what the perfect number is, anyway? I weigh ten pounds more now than I did near the end of college. Ten. Less exercise and more long nights of studying will do that. I have days where my pants don't fit right, and I have cute short-sleeved dress shirts with sleeves that won't button on my upper arms because my climbing muscles are now just flab. Well, they'll button, but they now dig into my arms and hurt quite a lot (and hence, are left unbuttoned...). There are parts of my body that I like (eyes, hands, calves, neck), and parts that I'm not too crazy about (tummy, thighs, love handles...). But the scale is just a number! It doesn't define you or me or anyone else. It doesn't mean you're better or worse than anyone else, or that you have anything to be ashamsed about.

Also, this model may be considered beautiful, but this body shape is not healthy! Someone give this poor girl a burger and some cheesecake, STAT.

I decided long ago that I would fight against the evil-scale and evil-food mantras can so easily plague women (and men) in our society. Sure, we'll eat a piece of chocolate cake, but only while proclaiming, "Oh, I'm so BAD!" Why? Did you rob a bank? It's just CAKE, folks. Don't eat a whole layer cake every day, eat some veggies sometimes, and you're pretty much good. Exercise when you can. More is better, but some is good.

I think I grew up in one of those rare households where nobody was ever on a diet. My mom, who has always been on the average-to-thinner side (but not unhealthily so), told me early on that if I deprived myself by thinking I could never eat certain things or over a certain number of calories, it would only make my eating habits worse. Moderation was key. Want a cookie? Have one. Or two. Or three. But when you don't want anymore cookies, stop eating them. Listen to your body. Are you hungry? What are you hungry for? I realize even now that I'll often go for the bag of Cheetos (gluten-free!) when I don't even want them. I want a carrot, or a glass of juice, or some chicken and rice.

The author Anne Lamott describes relearning to eat normally after years of fluctuating weight and self-esteem issues. She puts the scale away and decides to learn how to listen to her body and just eat. She describes herself as "the world's biggest toddler," peering down at her navel as she realizes that her body will actually speak to her if she only listens. At first she only wants Cheetos (a woman after my own heart). But then, a few days later, she realizes that she wants sautéed bell peppers. And fruit. And veggies. And she learns that feeling full is a delicious and wonderful feeling, not a disgusting and shameful one.

One of the best examples of female health and beauty I've seen recently is the female Olympic athlete population. The women came in all shapes and sizes (speed skaters with muscular thighs, short and tiny figure skaters, strong hockey players, athletic snowboarders, solid skiers). Sometimes NBC even listed their weights. 180, 145, 115, 170, 130. But the focus wasn't on the number, it was what these amazing women can accomplish with their well-trained bodies. Does that number on the scale matter as much to someone who just won a gold medal? I hope not.

One of my college roommates admitted to struggling with body image issues throughout her high school years. In college she discovered yoga and pilates. Suddenly her focus was not on making herself smaller, it was on the incredible things her body could do. After some dedication to exercise she found that she could do hundreds of sit-ups and incredible stretches. She had more endurance and flexibility, and began to carry herself with more confidence. She began to treat her body with gratitude rather than suspicion, building it up rather than concentrating on how much she could deprive it of nourishment and still make it through the day.

When I'm tempted to get down on myself for gaining a few pounds in the last few years of seminary, or for failing to exercise regularly during my busy weeks (I'm pretty neglectful of this...), I try to remember the lessons that roommate taught me about being grateful for all the things my body can do, and the lessons my mom taught me about just eating. Food isn't the enemy, and a human body is a truly amazing thing. Sure, I can't climb a 5.11 anymore (or even a 5.9...), but I can stand on my feet and lecture for a three hour class. I can act in the spring play. I can sing, go for a jog, climb a mountain. I can work two jobs without wearing out. My body allows me to hold a hospital patient's hand and pray with her, to lift up my arms in worship, to haul 40-pound bags of cat litter up the stairs. It can do tremendous things because it is a healthy, normal body, and for this I'm incredibly grateful. My body is an amazing gift. So is yours.

Weight is just a number. Don't let it get you down. There was a sign outside the Body Shop in London when I was living in England that said, in huge letters: "There are three billion women in the world who don't look like supermodels, and only six who do." Amen, sisters.

Mysterious Guests

I'm curious as to who reads this blog. I'm not a serious blogger; I write it for my own amusement and to share what I consider funny/insightful/entertaining/thought-provoking stuff. I know a few folks who read my ramblings (Hi, Megan, Tonia, Nicole, Daryl, Cam, Leah, Sharece, and Mom!), but those folks are about it.

I put up a "hit counter" for the site three days ago just for interest's sake. It is currently at 60. 60! In three days! Who are all you people? Granted, probably six of those hits are from me checking comments and making posts, but still. Those are 52 mysterious hits...

So if you're reading, drop me a comment. Leave a footprint. I'm intrigued...

Ten on Tuesday (Take Five-ish)

Today's Ten on Tuesday (that, yes, is being posted on Monday, but my Tuesday will be quite busy!) will have a vocational theme, since this is what's on my mind these days. As a Candidate in the PCUSA, I am near the end of the ordination process. My dream of all dreams is to receive a call as a pastor, to spend my days serving God and the church with all that I am. Lord willing, if goes well ("if the way be clear" is the official Presbyterian phrase often used here) I will be certified as ready for ordination at the end of March. Once I'm certified, I can officially look for a "call" (Presbyterian-ese for "pastoral job"). And this makes me excited and nervous and hopeful and excited.

This is me in my university chaplain internship days. I miss these students! I run into some of them when I'm teaching, but I miss hanging out with them all week and leading Bible studies. They're incredible, incredible folks.

So in honor of the call/job search that I am currently beginning to embark upon, I will answer the following ten vocational questions:

1. What is the best job you've ever had?
 I've had a lot of "best" jobs, but they were great in different ways. I loved, loved, loved working at Wheaton College's rock climbing wall. I taught students and staff how to climb and belay, set new routes on the wall, and (when I wasn't doing either of those two things), hung around and talked about climbing all day. It rocked. Pun intended.

The job that was best for my personal growth was my summer CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) internship. I worked as a hospital chaplaincy intern, and in three months it really felt like I saw it all. Brand new life, miraculous recoveries, incredible suffering, death, grief. Injuries that I didn't know were possible (did you know that it's possible for your legs and various other parts of your body to fill up with fluid and swell up to four or five times their original size?! Me neither, before this summer. Eep.) CPE is structured with prayer, reflection, chaplaincy work, debriefing, and supervisory sessions. It's a crucible, that's for sure, but with the right supervisors it's also an incredible and transforming experience. It wore me out at times, but I loved it.

I was a bar pianist back home in Eagle River. That was a blast. It got hilarious later in the evening when people had had several drinks with dinner and would request things I had just played. "I haven't thought of this song in years and years, but would you play 'Misty'?" Uh... sure. Just like I did six minutes ago? But I got free chocolate cake (mmmm... the BEST chocolate cake), nice tips, and an excuse to wear fancy dresses on top of it all. It was SO fun.

2. Have you ever had an internship?
I have had four internships. FOUR. One editorial internship at a rock climbing magazine in Colorado (fun, fun, fun) and three ministry related internships. I've enjoyed them all and learned a great deal, but I'm ready to be a non-intern for a change. Here's to the end of interning and the beginning of working jobs that last longer than an academic year or a summer! Hooray!!! 


3. What is the worst job you've ever had?
I worked at an office furniture company for a summer years ago. It was a great company and the people (including my boss) were really amazing, but the job itself would have perfectly fit someone with the exact opposite personality traits that I have. It was a position for an extroverted, non-type-A, incredibly flexible, very organized person. I am an introverted, not particularly organized, relatively type-A, and very focused person. It did not go well.


4. What kind of boss will you be (or are you, if you already supervise others)?
A good one, I hope. The pastor I interned with a few summers ago and my CPE supervisors are my models for this. Under their leadership I always felt like I had great gifts to offer the world.

5. How many jobs have you ever worked at one time?
Oh goodness... Last year at seminary I was a full-time seminary student (I certainly count this as a job), a university chaplain intern (10-12 hours per week), a teaching assistant at the seminary (10-ish hours per week), and an adjunct professor at a nearby university (10-ish hours per week). Needless to say, Daryl did 99% of the housework AND cooked me a lot of dinners. I believe my entire household duties were as follows: 1) Feed the cats. 2) Load and unload the dishwasher. By November Daryl took over feeding the cats, too. Love that man.

6. What is a job you would be worst at?
Anything that involved hurtling through space at high speeds. Astronaut, circus performer, ski jumper. Also, anything involving higher, higher math. Nuclear physicist, NASA engineer, etc.

7. What is a job you aren't currently pursuing that you'd be good at?
I think I could be a really great gluten-free bakery owner. I love to bake, and I'd love to give people who can't eat gluten the joy of eating a gluten-free but incredibly yummy cupcake or cookie or even wedding cake. It's hard to truly understand gratitude until you've fed a gf baked good to a gf-er. They might kiss you.

8. What was your first job?
Cleaning chalets at Zaugg's resort. I can now say that I cleaned the cabins that belonged to the resort of the parents of Jinelle Zaugg-Siergiej, Olympic silver medalist. Woot.

9. What's your most marketable attribute?
Pastorally, my preaching and pastoral care skills. Teaching-wise, my strong student evaluations. As a chaplain, my ability to think quickly on my feet and not overreact to any perceived craziness/medical disaster.

10. Are you good at job interviews? 
Usually. Unless I get really, really nervous, and then I can say stupid things by accident. When a member of the admissions staff at Wheaton College interviewed me as a high school senior (granted, this was not a job interview, but still...) I was totally unprepared. I wasn't expecting the call, and I got really flustered. Then the woman asked me what I liked to do for fun. My response? "Well, I sometimes skip school to go snowboarding..." Well done, Courtney. Well done.

What about you all? Best job? Worst one? Job prospects for the future? Gratitude for a great current job? Spill!