Apartment Hunting: Round 3

I suppose it is misleading to label this series "Apartment Hunting" because, as we soon discovered, we do not want to live in an apartment. After visiting only one we became immediately irritated with the whole mass-marketed apartment world.

"Come! Rent our place!" they scream. "We have amenities like pool parties that you will never go to and free popcorn from six days ago!" And then, when you need something fixed, they hassle you. Also, they keep the garbage dumpster far, far away from where you live so that you get to take your trash for a car ride. Fun.

So after our very first apartment glance, we changed course. We wanted a house. A home. A place that felt like maybe we were grown-ups and not just displaced college students.

The problem there was that homes are pricey. Way over our budget, for the most part. Enter townhouse/condo/duplex. Ah, this was good. The personable nature of a house with a smaller price tag because of one shared wall. Perfect.

So we looked some more today.

First we saw a run down duplex that had five of these living next door:

But it's cool, right? Because the yard was separated from the duplex's yard by a shoddy fence. And pit bulls are friendly, right? I mean, they love people so much that sometimes they eat them.

Next we saw a cute-and-affordable-but-kind-of-far-away-and-in-a-sketch-neighborhood place. We fell in love with the landlord here (around our age, a former Christian college student, offered to put in lots of sweet amenities for not much money), but the distance and neighborhood were too much for us. Also, it was right across the road from a BP refinery. Lots of issues with that one. Like, I like to breathe air. And not have cancer.

Throughout the day we were waiting for K, our potential landlady, to call us. She was offering our dream townhouse to the first folks who viewed it. If they didn't want it, it as ours. So we waited, nervously, while looking at other potential options. I had a hard time sleeping last night because I was so anxious. What if someone else took it first? What if it fell through? What if she decided that she didn't want to rent to us for some bizarre reason? What if she suddenly changed her mind about allowing cats?

So we continued our just-in-case tour. We saw a cute house and called to see how much it was renting for. The number was over twice our budget. Eep. You could buy a house for that much in some places in Wisconsin.

We waited. We were nervous. We waited.

Then, she called.

"I haven't heard from the first folks," she said. "If you want it, it's yours."

We told her we were getting in the car with our checkbook.

And we signed a lease.

I was a silly disorganized person and forgot the camera when we toured it, so there are no photos (yet). Tomorrow we head back to Wisconsin.

So, beginning in August we are now living 1.5 miles from Vanderbilt, a couple of miles from the hospital where I'll be twice a week, and only 20 minutes from my place of work the rest of the week. We are one mile from Daryl's favorite coffee shop and my favorite resale shop. We are less than a mile from my two favorite gluten-free restaurants. We are just over a mile away from some friends (hi, M and P!) who moved downtown last week. We are in a safe neighborhood that's still close to the city. We have a yard. We are a hundred million times excited.

We have a fireplace. We have a washer and dryer. We have a garage. We have two stories. 

Also, we have a guest room. So come visit.

And we are very, very happy.

Apartment Hunting: Round 2

Today was a better day. No broken-down car, no side-of-the-interstate, and (perhaps most importantly), no venomous insects. Today went as follows:

1. Drove the drive from Place #1 (hardwood living room pictured below) to Daryl's school and my work to see how long it would take. Were hoping for 30 minutes or under. It clocked in at 40-45. Boo. Still, love the place and are thinking it might be home.

2. Visited a really, really awful place. Quoth the landlord's lackey: "Yeah, if you see any pests, that's probably, you know, your fault, and you should call the pest control guy and pay him yourselves." Ooookay...

3. Stumbled upon an amazing house within two miles of Daryl's school. Called the landlady, who came by a little bit later. Saw it. Loved it. Are waiting to hear back from the landlady tomorrow to see if the people who visited just before us want it. If not, this is home. Praying for this to be home. So close to everything! In a great neighborhood! No pet deposit! Love it, love it, love it... We'll know by 4pm tomorrow if it is ours.

4. Visited a condo previously rented by Vanderbilt basketball players. It. Was. Gross. Also, overpriced. When we got back in the car Daryl whispered, "Did you see the facial hair in the sinks? GROSS!" I won't even tell you about the carpets. Also, a keg in the backyard. Classy, kids.

5. Called up two more spots to see tomorrow in the early morning. Two more duplexes close to Vandy and within our budget. One looks kinda ugly, one looks kinda cute. We're giving both a chance.

We're feeling good. It's been a long few days (and we're a bit slap happy at this point), but we're feeling good. We've stayed with some dear, wonderful friends, and that has helped. Those friends are gf-folks, so they even made us a totally safe (and completely amazing) dinner. What a luxury to just sit and eat and not have to ask a million questions. So. Good. Plus, through the ups and downs of finding a new home, Daryl and I have been together through it all (even on the side of the interstate!), and that has helped. We stumbled upon a really amazing resale shop and I got brand new jeans for super cheap. In a couple of long, crazy days, a pair of new jeans certainly doesn't hurt.

So, for you praying folks, pray that the other couple who saw the house we love (did I mention that we love it?!?) turn it down and that it can be ours. Oh please...

Countdown to Leaving Seminary... Top Ten Favorite Memories: 5

6. Final exam weeks.

Final exams are crazy. I've written 80 pages in six days. I've written a 20-page paper and then immediately scrapped it and started over because I knew it wasn't any good. I've had at least one season of final exams where I had very little to do and ended up watching three entire seasons of America's Next Top Model on YouTube so that I could stay awake and keep Daryl company as he slaved away (sigh... I know, I know). I've gone back and forth between studies of Bonhoeffer, Alzheimer's disease, Ephesians, and Brecht in the same 24-hour period. I've somehow (somehow!) managed to stay sane thanks to Jesus, Daryl, and lots of caffeine (in that order).

Finals make for great memories because they are ridiculous. All of us students do the impossible, surprise ourselves, drive ourselves nutty, and sometimes even learn something along the way.

This finals season I had 70+ pages to write in a week. It would have been 70+ pages to write in two weeks, but I had to fly to Nashville for an interview (yay!). My good friend Katie (who had six pages to write - I tried very hard not to hate her for this reason...) came over to work most nights. It was great to have someone around, to take short breaks, to eat bowls of cereal together.

I'll miss the ridiculous things that happen during finals week - things that, if it were not finals week, would make us all seem pathological, neurotic, or just plain bizarre.

I have one friend who wears the same clothes every day until she finishes a paper. It helps her feel like it's just one long day and not days and days of her life she's devoting to the paper.

Daryl chooses a place to work and will work only there for four or five or six days, and then changes abruptly and cannot stand working there anymore. This season it was Panera every day, and now he can't stand to go back and has found a new spot.

When I was a student at Loyola I instituted the "butt-in-the-chair" policy. After managing to procrastinate with everything under the sun (I should match up those pairless socks! I should clean behind the fridge! I should Christmas shop in May!) I sat myself in a chair in front of my computer and would let myself up for only three things: bathroom, 3 daily meals, and bedtime. Of course, I now know that this is how people get blood clots and die. But at the time, it worked wonders for my grades.

Now I do puzzles during finals. Puzzle after puzzle. I'll work for an hour or two, then spend fifteen minutes on a puzzle. It helps my mind to relax while I can still mull over my paper. I probably did ten puzzles during finals week this year. Doing them puts me into that same relaxed state-of-mind that happens in the shower or before sleep. It helps me come up with great ideas and realize which old ones don't work with the argument of my paper. Daryl's dad has a great explanation for the different type of brainwaves that we have and what this type of thought is called, but I don't remember what it is right now... that's what happens after finals!

As a student, finals is like the Olympics. Have you prepared well? Will you choke? Will you fall apart at the seams? How is your equipment? Will your computer die? Will that big jug of Mountain Dew help or hurt? How much sleep does a human being actually need?

When I was in undergrad a friend and I went to this ridiculous all-night diner on the way to Chicago and drank bad smoothies and wrote and wrote and wrote. When I studied at Loyola I wrote papers with Eliot, my new kitten, in a room overlooking Addison Street and Wrigley Field. I ate handfuls of Oreos and Thai takeout. I hardly slept. I read thousands of pages.

Perhaps the best part about final exams is that they end. Then all students go to sleep. The first restful sleep in weeks - nothing is due, nothing is late, nothing else can go wrong. It is done. We sleep and sleep.

The first thing I always do after that sleep is go to the grocery store and take my time choosing each item. I eat terribly during finals, and my brain is so full and strained it almost feels bruised, so it's a joy to focus on something as simple as food. The week after finals I indulge myself. I get the good mozzarella, the pricey-but-amazing orange juice. I read labels and squeeze melons. I meander through the store knowing that, after a grueling week or two and a long semester, I have nothing else to do. I begin the slow stepping-down off of too much caffeine.

I was a little sad to turn in my final final paper this year. For all I know, I'm done being a student. This could be my last paper... ever. I'll miss the craziness of finals, the Herculean effort it takes to get up early and stay up late for days on end while expending crazy amounts of brain energy. I'll miss the accomplishment of finally emailing off a paper, or watching it print. I'll miss the sense of accomplishment. I'll miss the camaraderie that occurs when every student is in the same boat, struggling to stay afloat on a sea of papers and exams. The student life is a good one indeed - even during finals.

 Image borrowed from here.

My Life After Finals

Awake after noon.

Wonder why I'm so very tired.

Eat something. Usually GF chocolate chip pancakes. Sometimes fruit. Sometimes eggs.

Consider showering. Watch a little TV instead.

Wonder why I'm so ridiculously tired.

Chronicle a list of things I've done this year in my head (this is Mom's version, as posted on my Facebook): "You successfully juggled several jobs, teaching, traveling out of town on weekends, airline trauma, snowstorm closings, a husband living in another state, all household responsibilities, traveling to presbytery meetings in Chicago, a car with a dead battery twice in one day, a kitty on the brink of death, canceling your only vacation with your husband at Thanksgiving and planned for a year, assistant play directing, a lead role in that play, cooking/eating a special GF diet and these are only the things I can think of. Yes, a long post....but a longer year and I think congratulations are in order. Well done Courtney. And I would like to add, don't ever do it again. Love, mom"

Ah, that's why I'm tired. I love my mom.

Look out the window at the sun in the big oak in our front yard. Pet the cats. 


Pray.


Pray for the Lord to provide a pastoral call for me in Nashville. Pray for rejuvenation of spirit at the end of a long year. Pray for Daryl who is still in the midst of a rough season of finals. Pray for my seminary friends who are also searching, searching, searching for calls and jobs.


Finally shower.


Send some emails.


Grade some student papers.


Miss Daryl.

Drive to Lawrenceville and teach at Rider U. Lecture. Answer questions. Laugh with my students.  


Run errands. 

Have some follow-up meeting with professors. Tear up a little when I say goodbye to those wonderful professors.

Come home.


Miss Daryl.


Remember that I will see Daryl very, very soon. For good. For real.


Remember God's faithfulness in the midst of a crazy season.

Thank God for this faithfulness, for a long year that is drawing to a close, for helping me to learn and grow. For getting me through it all.


Still feel tired, but better.

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!

Senioritis... for the Fourth Time

I've been a senior several times. A high school senior. A college senior. My master's degree in English was just one calendar year, but by the summer courses my fellow students and I had quite the dose of senioritis. Now I'm a senior in seminary, fulfilling my last class obligations before heading out into the non-academic world for the first extended time in my whole life. The last time I wasn't a student (minus the one year I took off to work), I was five years old.

This is one of the libraries I get to study in during my time at the seminary. Senioritis or no, I will miss the gorgeousness of Princeton's campuses.

But what does my current senioritis bring with it? Well, panic, for one thing. My final review at my Presbytery is in late March, after which I will (Lord willing) be ready for ordination. My fellow PC(USA) seminarians have already begun looking for "calls" (the Presbyterian-ish word for "ministry jobs") throughout the U.S. I'll admit that I'm a bit jealous of their freedom to look all over the country. I know people who have interviewed for positions in Iowa and then turned right around to send in an application to California. Being limited to the Nashville area (where there don't appear to be many available ministry jobs at the moment) is, well, limiting. And panic-inducing.

This panic isn't ever-present, but in my worst moments I feel it quite strongly. A month or so ago I called Daryl in tears, exclaiming with great passion: "I don't want to be an administrative assistant again! I haaaaate filing things!" Mind you, I'm not above that kind of work (I've done it off and on for many, many years). It's just that I've trained with one specific goal in mind for years: ministry. And the possibility that it may take awhile for that to come to fruition can be quite disheartening.

Of course, it's just February. I still have a lot of time to look, and there is still a lot of time for a dream job to open up. And those friends of mine who are already being offered jobs all over the country are very, very dedicated and qualified folks who happen to have very flexible spouses who are able to move anywhere they like. They will be great pastors, and I'm excited for each of them.

Indeed, things are going pretty well for me, despite my current case of senioritis and my moments of panic. It's true that I'm limited to looking for jobs in Nashville because of Daryl's PhD commitments, but because of Daryl's stipend we are in no danger of starving or ending up on the street. I also love Nashville, and though it's difficult to have such a small job market to explore, it's a great place to live. It's a great city full of kind southern folks, amazing musicians, and vibrant churches. I can't wait to live there (least of all because Daryl lives there...). For the next two years we'll have health insurance regardless of whether or not I find a job, and this is a huge blessing. It also makes my occasional "I-don't-have-any-job-possibilities-yet" freak-outs a bit overdramatic, as we're in no tremendous financial danger and no matter what happens on the job front we'll finally be back together in one place.

Yet, when I'm perfectly honest with myself, I realize that what I truly fear is not being without a job, or needing months or years to find a ministry position. What I truly fear is a lack of purpose. I've been running after the academic carrot of one degree after another for so long that I'm afraid I'll feel a little bit aimless when that carrot is gone. I've also been training for the ministry for so long that now I'm dying to do ministry. I want to give my heart and soul to the work of the church. All day. Every day. Full time. But it's quite possible that this dream may take awhile. And in the meantime I'm not sure what I'll do.

I came across a prayer written by Trappist monk Thomas Merton on this blog today (thanks, Tonia!). It's titled "A Prayer for Abandonment." I don't feel abandoned, exactly, but I do feel nervous about the months ahead, and about whether a ministry job will ever be waiting for me. This prayer echoes my heart during these final months of seminary. For those of you facing transitions in your own lives, I hope it helps. Take heart - there is always a new day tomorrow, and the Lord is faithful even when we don't quite know the way.

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself,
and that I think I am following your will
does not mean I am actually doing so.

But I believe the desire to please you
does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing.

I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know if I do this
you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.

I will trust you always
though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear,
for you will never leave me
to face my perils alone.

Amen.

Ten on Tuesday (Thanks, Megan!)

Yes, I know it's Wednesday. But it's 4:21am on Wednesday, so I'm calling it Tuesday. Sometimes when one is on-call at the hospital, one does not sleep so well and must spend portions of the early morning hours updating one's blog. And watching "About Schmidt" at the hospital's on-call apartment. And speaking of oneself in the abstract.

My friend Megan (hi!) sometimes does a Ten on Tuesday list. Since I've been a bit dry in the well of ideas lately (an intensive short-term course plus a husband far away can do that to a person), I thought I'd borrow this one from her. So...

1. What accomplishment are you most proud of? 
I used to say running the Chicago marathon in 2002 was my proudest accomplishment. I kinda still can't believe I ran that far (especially since I haven't run over three miles in a stretch in the seven+ years since). It was cool to see that I could push my body that hard and it would actually do what I trained it to do. I'd like to do another one at some point, but I think a half-marathon may be all I have in me from now on, particularly because running gets really boring after about five miles.

Now, though, I'm proudest of pursuing a life of ministry. It's still a scary thing to me for many reasons, from a life of fairly low income, to the ways that it is possible to burn out or just plain get burned in ministry, to my own occasional battles with self-doubt (who am I to serve God's people in the church?), so I'm proud that I've kept going on the path to ministry, even when it's been tough. Even when it means that sometimes I'm awake all night long with a hospital pager. Even when it means spending this year apart from Daryl. Even when it means a more uncertain future.

2. How much did you weigh when you were born?
Around eight pounds, I think. Maybe just under.

3. What is your favorite perfume?
I've never worn perfume. I'm not really sure why. I usually use lotion or body spray from Bath & Body Works and they just discontinued my favorite (Juniper Breeze), so I'm going to have to find a substitute pretty soon. I think I'd like perfume. I definitely like the idea of it - it sounds professional and sophisticated and grown-up-ish. Maybe I'll have to find a good scent sometime soon.

4. How many siblings do you have?
Two younger sisters. And they rock. And they both live in Minnesota, which is just too darned far away from where I live. One is a college senior, studying art and making brilliant and beautiful things. The other is a waitress, wife, and mommy to the cutest 1 1/2 year old girl ever. They're incredible sisters and I love hanging out with them more than almost anything in the world.

As a side note, it's continually astonishing to me how many of my friends in graduate programs are firstborn children. Wheaton was packed full of first-borns. It's a wonder we don't all boss each other around to the point of violence...

I also have a brother-in-law. When I was five or six I was fixated on having an older brother. It's what I wanted most in the world. Needless to say, that was a tall order for my parents, who kept trying to tell me that it was pretty impossible at that point to get me an older sibling. Well - now I finally got one. And he rocks. And when Daryl and I visit, he always punches Daryl in the leg and makes him fall over. And it cracks me up every time.

5. How many children would you like to have? (Or how many do you have?)
Probably two. I used to tell people that Daryl and I want two kids because we don't want to be outnumbered, but then a friend of mine who has one kid told me that when you have one baby, you're already outnumbered. Good point. Still, at some point down the road we'll start with one, add another one, and then see how things are going.

6. What’s the best class you took in college?
I took so many incredible classes in college I can't name just one... All of the writing courses I took with David Wright and Kent Gramm changed my life. Jeff Thompson's Creativity Practicum (which really does defy description) was an experience unto itself. I loved Em Griffen's Communication Theory, which was really hard, but always began with a short reading from Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies. Also, he wrote the Comm. Theory book that most programs are still using today. And the book rocks. Dave Reifsnyder (who incidentally used to be a roadie for my Uncle Del's college band) taught Intro to Theater and Performance of Literature, both of which I loved.

And all of my tutorials in Oxford, which now seem kind of like a mysterious and wonderful dream (especially the writing course I took with the poet Kieron Winn. We met at his flat - which seems sketchy to me now, but was fairly commonplace in Oxford - and he used to throw books at his cat and serve me tea in flowered porcelain teacups). I can't believe I used to walk the streets of Oxford and drink tea and go to classes there. What a good time.

7. What was your favorite game to play when you were a child?
I grew up in the land of Capture the Flag. Loved it. I was never very good at it, but I loved it. As far as board games, I loved Candyland. Loved it.

8. What character on Friends are you most like?
I want to be Rachel, but I'm more Phoebe, especially in my more flustered moments. I like to think that as I get older I have more Rachel moments. In my nerdy moments I'm totally Ross.

Ross is my favorite. Luckily, Daryl is quite a bit Ross. He's part Ross, part Josh Lyman from the West Wing, and part George Clooney from Ocean's 11 (minus the felony part). Yeah, I'm just totally in love with the guy.

9. Are you a phone person? (ie: Do you like talking on the phone?)
I HATE being on the phone. I really hate it. I think my long-distance friendships suffer because I am so bad on the phone... My friend Sarah (hi!) and I really get each other this way. Often we'll call each other, get voicemail, and then just send an email instead. I think we're both happier that way.

I'm learning to be better on the phone. It helps that I'm forced to talk on the phone with Daryl and my family so far away... And whenever Inga calls me from Iraq it feels like an incredible privilege and not a chore to talk on the phone. I'm also always a little bit amazed to hear someone loud and clear who is not only halfway across the world but living in a war zone.

But so much is lost over the phone... I'd always rather talk in person.

10. What was the best vacation you ever took?
I'm with Megan on this one - can you ever beat a honeymoon? The honeymoon rocked. Daryl and I went to Cabo San Lucas (in January! and it was WARM!) where we walked on the beach, snorkeled, slept in until 11am every single day, and ordered loads of room service. It was blissful. Cabo was beautiful and the weather was amazing, but mostly I was just thrilled to spend so much uninterrupted time with the man I love.

Other than that, I loved all my travels from Oxford while I studied there (Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Wales, London, Penzance). I will always be in love with all things Britain. Trains and tea and rainy weather and cultural politeness and biscuits and umbrellas and raincoats and hardback novels. I will always be miffed at why tea tastes so much better over there, even when I buy the same brand here... Their water must be magical.

I loved the trips my parents took me on (and sometimes still take me on!). My favorite two were Canada (Banff, Jasper, hiking, camping) and Germany and Austria (skiing, pastries, museums, driving on the Autobahn). The best moment of the Canada trip was when we checked into our campsite. We went to the Ranger's station to pay, and he suggested we go to the Visitor's Center to get information about the hiking trails in the area. We took his advice, and noticed that there was a free documentary playing at the center about the wildlife in the area. How educational! We sat down to watch the film. About five minutes in it became clear that it was not an educational documentary so much as a "When Animals Attack" film about grizzles. And we were going to go camping. In grizzly territory. Caroline (who was about twelve years old at the time) spent the entire trip jumping six feet straight into the air every time anyone within half a mile stepped on a twig. It was hilarious. It was also the gnat infestation of the century up there. My father also left the poles necessary for setting up our camper back in Wisconsin... And we had one small tent for five people. Oddly enough, I think the vacations where things go wrong often make the best memories. It was quite a memorable time.

Worship

I’m currently taking a Presbyterian Worship course taught by Dave Davis, the pastor of Nassau Presbyterian Church. In the first class, he brought up the question (as all good intro courses will) of the subject itself. What is worship?

To help answer this question, he showed this video: Click here.

Watch the whole thing, if you can. It’s just five minutes long. It actually gave me chills by the end. Apparently it’s from a documentary project about music, community, and peace.

Its connections to worship are many. The one I love the best (that actually wasn’t even mentioned in class) is the idea of our worship as joining a song that is already going on. When the first man begins playing and singing, he is alone. But slowly more and more people join the song that he started. In our worship, whether it is private or corporate, we do not begin the song. It is already playing all over the world. Men, women, and children, the whole earth, the angels of heaven, are already singing, and we simply add our voice of praise to theirs. We are not alone in our worship not only because God hears and responds, but because the universe is dedicated to the worship of God.

Dr. Davis made the point that this video helps illustrate worship because we all need one another for worship. We need others to “stand by us” and bolster us in our worship of God, for we are weak and changeable people. “There are some weeks you’ll drag yourself to worship and not even be able to sing,” he said, “but the person next to you will sing for you.”

This reminds me of some wisdom my college roommate Kelsey offered to me back when I was in undergrad. I was only twenty, and I was sitting in our room crying about some boy or other. She found me there, on my bed, and came to sit down next to me.

“What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “God and I have some things to work out.”

“Would you tell me about it?” she asked, kindly. “You don’t have to handle it all by yourself. Sometimes we all need a prayer that is stronger than our own.”

This is one of the great beauties of the Christian life. Yes, we are each individually called to follow the Lord. Yes, our obedience and response to Christ’s call is a personal decision and responsibility. Yet, we simply cannot go it alone. We aren’t designed to. We aren’t built to. And, mercifully, we aren’t required to. The Christian life is by nature a life lived in community. We serve a communal God—three persons within Godself. We serve a God who reaches out to us to be in relationship with us even as we are in relationship with one another. And often, each of us needs a prayer that is stronger or different than our own.

I’m excited about this course on worship, despite being a touch cranky that I am required to take it (I’ve already passed my Worship Ordination Exam, making this course a tad bit redundant). Still, I’m learning that my Presbytery does indeed have my good and the good of the church in mind, and I’m trying to have an open mind and heart during this short course. And, really, if I am going into the pastorate, reinforcing the theology of Presbyterian Worship one more time before I head in for my final review is quite a good idea indeed.

Dr. Davis also said something that made me think twice about those Sundays where I sleep in. I go to a church 45 minutes away, which is quite a drive on a wintry Sunday morning when Daryl is far away in Nashville. Listening to a sermon on the radio is tempting. Sleeping in until 2pm is very tempting. But, as Dr. Davis rightly noted (this is my paraphrase): True worship requires the understanding that worship is not about us. It’s about God and God’s people. Some weeks, the person next to you will not have the strength to pray. If you’re not there, you’re missed not necessarily because your presence was missed, but because you were needed that day. Worship is the work of the people of God.

Happy Things

Today Daryl and I begin our trek north to Wisconsin. Hooray! We are frantically packing and cleaning and showering and loading all of our clothing and Christmas presents into the car. But I thought I'd pause here for a list of happiness at the end of another long, hard season of finals. In no particular order, this is what I'm happy about today:

Happy Things

10. I have wonderful friends in Princeton who are watching our cats. This is huge. Eliot and Kenny will have fresh food, water, and litter, and someone to scratch them behind the ears now and then. This is the kind of thing I will really miss after I leave Princeton and move to some random Nashville neighborhood without 100 other seminary students...

9. I have finished my Christmas shopping! And it was really fun this year. When a budget is tight, and a person doesn't do much shopping, Christmas shopping is way fun. And I love giving presents. Love it.

8. Friend visits. We are on our way to see several good friends in Chicago on our drive up. While I'm always sad we can't see everyone (and we want to, all you Chicago peeps!), it's great to reconnect with those we love in our favorite city.

7. Chicago foods... Yes, we are hoping to stop at Los Burritos. Yes, that's the place where you can get a $4 burrito that's bigger than your head. Yes, Daryl can occasionally eat two of those. Yes, it's both disgusting and impressive.

6. Driving. I'm not a huge fan of driving, really. But when I've been a) separated from my husband for the past four months, and b) turned into a brain-dead zombie by my final exams, driving is great. We'll get a good chance to reconnect, listen to bad Christmas music on the radio (see my earlier post...), and eat gas-station candy. Love it.

5. I am DONE with finals. Praise God. Just... really. Praise God.

4. I am on my way to see my family! I haven't seen the whole family together in quite awhile. And my little niece Aleah is getting BIG and hilarious. And I miss my sisters. And my parents. And my grandparents. And home.

3. I am on my way to Wisconsin! I can't wait to be in Wisconsin. Can't wait. My soul can breathe better up there.

2. It's almost Christmas. 

1. It's almost CHRISTMAS!!! I'm super excited about this. I love Christmas. Love, love, love Christmas. Love it.

Merry early Christmas, friends! What are you happy about?

10 Books You Should Read (and can Borrow from Me!)

Now that I've put my textbooks on the shelf for the next few weeks (anyone interested in reading Hebrew commentaries? Anyone? I haaaave some for you!), my thoughts have turned to the place they usually do: NOW what do I read?

Daryl laughed at me yesterday when he found me on the couch with a new novel. I turned in my paper and, feeling a bit lost after all the pressure of finals, Rider, and prepping our apartment and cats for three weeks without me (don't worry, they have people checking in on them!), opened a book. Books have always been my comfort when I feel lost.

This morning, with nothing pressing, I'm in my pajamas, reading. Comedien Jim Gaffigan says that he would love to spend his life in bed. "I just had a bed day! Everyone wants one, but no one is quick to volunteer that information. 'Were you sick?' No, I was in heaven." Yeah, that's been my morning. And it's glorious.

So I got to thinking, what are the books that have really stuck with me during the past few years? What are ten books I would recommend to almost any friend, anytime, anywhere? Here are my current ten novels-I-love.

10. The Known World - Edward P. Jones

This one was a challenge, I'll admit. The "well, it won the Pulitzer, I might as well give it another page or two" kept me going. It's work to read, but it's worth it. Known is a really interesting account of a slave-owning African-American family in Virginia in the late 19th century. Did you know that there were African-Americans who owned slaves? Me neither. Jones's characters are rich and full, and his take on history is really interesting.

9. On Beauty - Zadie Smith

I love Zadie Smith. White Teeth is great, too, though I like this one a little bit more. I've heard she's completely cranky and ridiculous in interviews, which kind of makes me like her more. If I was a famous author, I would totally give myself permission to be eccentric and kooky (albeit brilliantly so) in public. It's a bit racy in places, so avoid it if that's not your thing.

8. The Life of Pi - Yann Martel

Every year I give my brother-in-law Jared my favorite novel of the year. Two years ago it was Gilead (see #2), and last year it was The Life of Pi. Once you get through the self-important first chapter (I am a highly educated man who thinks much of himself!), it becomes a fast-paced, exciting read with a surprising conclusion that will make you want to read the whole thing again right away. Kind of like Lost, but set in a boat with only a handful of characters.

7. A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving

Yes, John Irving kind of hates women. Yes, I have a problem with that. Yes, this is a fantastic book. No, it should never have been made into a movie.

6. The History of Love - Nicole Krauss

I just mailed this to my friend Inga (who is all the way over in Iraq right now - Hi, Inga!). I love this book. It's not as love-story-ish as the title makes it sound, yet it is about love. And life. And regret. And a really sweet old man who struggles with everyday life. Worth reading and keeping.

5. The Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler

Octavia Butler is an African-American science fiction writer (one of the first of her kind). I normally hate sci-fi, but this novel is simply set in the future. There are no aliens and nothing goes into space. This book turns ideas of power and responsibility on their heads, describes a west-coast apocalypse, and is all told from the perspective of a 17-year old girl. Dr. Pierce assigned this class for her "American Religion/American Literature course, and to her I say a hearty thanks. I'm secretly hoping that I get the sequel (The Parable of the Talents) in my stocking this Christmas...

4. The Namesake - Jhumpa Laihiri

Daryl's step-mom, Deborah, is a member of a really great book club. Sometimes I get the books when she's done (which I love, love, love). This was her most recent gifting to me. The Namesake follows the story of a young Indian-American boy named Gogol, his family's difficulties in assimilating to American life, and his own search for identity. It's a beautiful story about family, history, and finding the courage to be yourself. Also, as someone who had the last name "Belcher" (which always does raise some eyebrows when meeting new folks) up until three years ago, I loved Gogol's name-related questioning even more.

3. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan - Lisa See

This is another book I gleaned from Deborah's kindness. Set in China, it follows a young girl's struggle with friendship, honesty, class, and identity. For anyone who has struggled with girl friendships (and really, who hasn't? fifth grade is rough), this is a great read. It also has a terrifying scene involving foot-binding, which I didn't know was so utterly horrific. It made me very, very thankful for my nice size-8's.

2. Gilead - Marilynne Robinson

This novel is glorious. Set in Iowa, it follows an aging minister (John Ames), as he seeks to leave a legacy for his seven-year old son. It's one of the best expressions of Christianity in popular literature, and the novel moves at a pace that is slow and reflective but never boring. Reading this novel is like taking a trip out to the countryside during a mild and sunny summer. You can almost feel the breeze and smell the trees. This one never fails to refresh my soul.

1. Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides

Daryl says that I just like to say "Eugenides." That's true. Say it! It's fun. But besides the fact that he has a super-fun Greek name, Eugenides is an incredible author. Don't let the Oprah sticker throw you off (and besides, I read this one before Oprah put her sticker on it, which makes me feel proud to be ahead of the masses AND proves that the book is good ,not just mass-market good). If you're interested in questions of gender-identity, or just up for a suck-you-in story that covers over three generations (reminiscent of Steinbeck's East of Eden), this is a fantastic read. Even Daryl's about halfway through, and he's not big on reading novels.

I loved Middlesex so much I read Eugenides first award-winner, The Virgin Suicides, last year. A word of advice? Don't. The books couldn't be more different, and Suicides is just flat-out creepy and sad.

Honorable mention: My Friend Leonard - James Frey

Yes, I know. James Frey got in big trouble. But as someone who writes creative nonfiction herself, I say: WHO CARES? The man can write. And whether or not he added bits and pieces to his personal story of recovery matters much less than the fact that A Million Little Pieces was an incredible work of literature. I reread it almost every year, and I cry every time.

My Friend Leonard is the sequel to Little Pieces. It follows up on the relationship between Frey and his friend, gangster-boss and recovering addict Leonard. It ends with a conclusion I never saw coming.

On my Wish List:
2. The Parable of the Talents - Octavia Butler
1. Peace Like a River - Leif Enger

Anyone have a book to add (or hated one of the ones I listed)? What are your favorite reads from the past few years? What helps you to relax at the end of a tough season?

Thursday Recipes - Stir Fry Sauce

Hello, friends!

It is Thursday. Today is happy for many, many reasons.

1. I am in Nashville, with the man I love (and happen to be married to!).
2. I turned in my final, final paper at 6pm yesterday. Thus, finals season have ended for me, and I am free to be sleepy, brain-dead, and full of Christmas spirit. I can also read novels for FUN now, which is a great gift.
3. I turned in my final grades for Rider, and I'm done being a teacher until mid-January. This is a break I always look forward to with great anticipation. No more quizzes to grade, lessons to plan, or lectures to give. Allllll done.
4. Daryl turns in his final paper at 5pm today. After that, I get my husband back. Hallelujah.
5. I have pumpkin bread baking in the oven. Mmmmm. If it turns out, it'll be next week's GF recipe.

Asian food is a great way to go if you're dining with someone who is gluten-free. However, soy sauce usually contains wheat, and many other good Asian sauces contain soy sauce (teriyaki, for one). You can buy gluten-free soy sauce, but it's also pretty easy to make your own tasty stir-fry sauce. Below are the two favorites I've come up with lately. I love making sauces because they're pretty difficult to mess up, as long as you taste them along the way. Do they need more salt? More oil? More seasoning? Add it in!

Sweet Lemon Ginger Stir-Fry Sauce

1/2 c. lemon juice
1/4 c. brown sugar
3 T. olive oil
1/2 t. salt
1/2 t. roasted red pepper
1 t. ground ginger
1 T. corn starch

This is great with chicken, stir-fry veggies (I love carrots, snow peas, baby corn, and water chestnuts) and jasmine rice.

Hot Pepper Stir-Fry Sauce

2 cloves minced garlic
1/2 c. beef broth
1 t. cider vinegar
1/4 t. ground ginger
1/4 t. black pepper
1/4 t. hot pepper sauce
1 T. olive oil
1 T. corn starch

This is tasty with beef, onions, and red & green peppers, served over brown rice. Mmmmm.

Why Being a Student is Actually a Good Thing

I am a student.

For the past 22 years of my life (with the exception of one year off to work) I have been a student. My job is to read and study, to write papers and to do research. I've known I've had a nerdy streak all my life. This streak really started growing in high school. It was not very normal to like learning at Northland Pines High. We had a period called "resource," which was intended to be a 35-minute study hall each day. I remember sitting in resource as a sophomore and reading some novel or other for fun. It was probably Robert Louis Stevenson - I got on quite a kick of his for awhile. Anyway, I was quietly reading this novel when the girl who sat behind me (who was, in ways I was not and will never be, cool), tapped me on the shoulder. She rarely deigned to speak to me, a nerdy nerd, so I quickly turned around.

"Is that for a class?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "I'm just reading it on my own."

"Huh," she said, her thickly eye-lined eyes studying my own, quiet confused. "Well... do you want to borrow my Cosmo?"

Nice of her to ask. Surely anyone reading a book that wasn't for a class must be fresh out of magazines.

That was twelve years ago, and I'm still the one reading the books for fun, even if they're textbooks. At this point, it looks like I'm about six months from the end of my formal education. In the coming months I will begin to look for a ministerial job and end my official time as "student." I've been reflecting a lot lately on what it has meant to be a student, how students are treated in our culture, and on how I will continue to be a student even after the end of this degree.

This summer I interned as a hospital chaplain at a hospital in north Jersey. My supervisors were always quick to point out that if I got stuck in an awkward or difficult situation, it was always okay to proclaim my student status. The "I'm a student" or "I'm still in training" line would hopefully give people more compassion and understanding if I made a misstep. Yet, I often found the opposite.

The "I'm just a student" line was often greeted with raised eyebrows and a brush off. "Oh," people would say. "Can you get me the nurse?" In a teaching hospital where nine out of ten doctors were still "students" in the sense of being interns or in residency, a student chaplain seemed unprofessional. I quickly learned to keep that information to myself as much as possible. After all, who really wants someone to "practice" ministry on them?

Then I realized how I was introducing myself. "Just a student." I was demeaning my position on my own, leading them to believe I really was just. I had decided that being a student chaplain was far, far less than being an actual chaplain, and projecting my fear of inadequacy all over my patients and their families. With prayer and some wise instruction from my supervisors, I soon I changed the wording, and the confidence with which I presented myself. And suddenly I began doing ministry, not just playing at it.

These tricky moments helped me to reflect on what it means to be a student. Often we think of being a student as not knowing it all yet, or in the process of formation. If that is the definition, then I hope to always be a student. Both Goethe and Nietzsche agreed that those who "cease to change are not my friends." There is something about Christianity that necessitates discipleship and formation. We don't know it all yet. In fact, we never will.

The best pastors I know are all, by their own admission, still students. My CPE supervisors admitted to learning from us even as they taught. These role models of mine study the Scriptures, the tradition, our culture, their congregations. Many of them have returned or are currently working on advanced degrees to keep sharp and broaden their knowledge bases. There are different types of learning, of course. Some of us aren't the bookish types, and gravitate more toward the study of art or music, relationships or culture. That's fine - learning comes from all over, the key is to keep being open to it, and to seek it out. There's a whole crazy, interesting, wonderful world out there.

One of my favorite things about my parents is that they love to learn. My mom is always delving into some new craft or art project, and back when my sisters and I were homeschooled, she read dozens of books on the subject in order to help us succeed. My dad picks up things from baking bread to using Facebook to writing nonfiction. They are both eager to explore the world, and in part because of them, I am, too.

The moment we all decide that the student status is a lowly one, rather than the highest one, we stop growing ourselves. So be kind to the students in your life, or to yourself if you are one. Give your favorite student a hug - holing up with books and papers is often lonely. Admit to not knowing something this week, and ask to learn from someone who knows. There's no such thing as "just a student."

On the Joys and Difficulties of a Long-Distance Marriage

Last year around this time Daryl was neck-deep in PhD applications. Some seminary friends of ours refer to difficult academic periods as when a diligent student's "face is turned toward Mordor."

That was definitely true for round one of applications (back in 2006). But this time, round two, was easier. Not easy, mind you, but easier. Daryl knew the ropes much better, he had some great connections with other PhD folk at our seminary, and he was admittedly a stronger scholar and thinker the second go-round. And so we sent them off. And waited. And while Daryl was technically the only one applying, I felt as though I was applying, too. After all - the fate, location, and job possibilities for our next 4-7 years of life were hanging in the balance. Where I would look for my first pastoring job depended on which program accepted him. And so we waited. And prayed. A lot.

Daryl ended up earning a great spot in two very well-respected programs, and we had a tough decision to make. I'll let him post about all of those factors someday, if he wants. But to make a long story short, he (and we) chose Vanderbilt University in Nashville. With my program unfinished in New Jersey, we made the additionally difficult decision to spend the year apart. He would begin his program and I would finish mine. This took some explaining.

But now we're three months in to the long-distance marriage, and despite the occasional raised eyebrows, we are managing quite well with a situation that's less than ideal. So for today's post, I'd like to share the three main things I've learned about being married to someone who is doing a PhD in a different state.

1. It stinks.

Daryl and I did the long-distance dating thing on a few occasions. One summer I worked in Carbondale, Colorado while he studied in Boston. For six months I lived in downtown Chicago while he lived out in Wheaton. Both of these were inconvenient and annoying, but not downright lousy. We traveled to see each other often, had memorable visits and vacations, and made the best of things.

A long-distance marriage, however, feels different. I'm not waiting to visit my boyfriend, someone of whom I am very fond. Now I'm waiting to visit my husband, the person who falls asleep with me at night, the one who knows me better than anyone else, the one who finishes my sentences and knows exactly how I like my eggs cooked. I believe now more than ever what Scripture says about a man leaving his father and mother and becoming united to his wife. We really do feel like a unit, not two separate people. And part of my unit is all the way over in middle America for 9/10ths of this year. It not only stinks, it aches. Boo.

To those who've asked if we drive back and forth, we could... if it wasn't for West Virginia. West Virginia adds a good 7 hours to what would be a 6-hour drive.

I've also found myself reverting to many of my bad habits of singleness. I keep odd hours, staying awake until 2am nearly every night. I am ridiculously disorganized with everything but the essentials (work papers, school papers, and plane tickets). I will actually go out and buy more cheap clothing to avoid doing laundry in our icky, flooded basement... I know, right? It's bad. The habits of discipline and diligence that Daryl naturally has (he eats vegetables, regularly! he exercises, regularly! he starts his papers weeks before they are due, regularly!) rub off on me when he's here, but when he's gone it's up to me, and I'm not always great at them.

2. It isn't quite as awful as I expected in many ways.

Yet, I am not in despair. I find myself much less lonely than I had anticipated. With work and school and other activities that fill my days, I don't mind coming home to a quiet house. In fact, I've begun to look forward to a few hours in the evening (or half a dozen, depending on if I do indeed stay up past 2 am...) to read, play my piano or guitar, or catch up on emails.

I've enjoyed the extra time I have to cultivate new and old friendships and to host family. For the first two weekends I was alone my parents and sister visited. I've been able to reach out to some new Princeton folks, when I probably wouldn't have had the time if Daryl was here. I've been able to volunteer a bit back at my CPE hospital, doing an overnight on-call and signing up for more. One of the random clichés I threw around back when I was single and trying to make myself feel better about being single was that single people have more time to love on other people and to serve the Lord. In a lot of ways, I'm discovering, this is actually true.

Also, Daryl is so happy with his program. It's hard for me to be grumpy about the geographical distance when I call him and he can't wait to share the new ideas he's come across and the conversations he's had and the books he's reading. And the decision been confirmed in a thousand ways that it was the right one. And doing a hard thing is always easier if you know that the hard thing is also the right thing.

3. It is much more awful than I expected in some ways.

What I really wasn't prepared for about this year was how difficult it is to go from a household of two to a household of one. All of a sudden weekly chores that once were once halved were all mine. The car (which I usually don't pay any attention to) needed its oil changed. The kitty litter needed refreshing. The closet door was broken. The trash needed to be taken out. I invited friends over for a party and didn't have the food ready when everyone arrived because I had forgotten how long it takes to prepare for a party alone! Where was my guacamole-making, bathroom-cleaning partner?

All of this was just minorly annoying and mostly manageable until last week. Last week, my beloved cat Eliot got sick. Not just sniffly-kitty sick, but death's-door sick. This is him in a healthier moment:

He suddenly went from eating like a horse to eating nothing. And drinking nothing. And not moving. And not using his litter box. And then he developed a really painful bump on his back leg. And he started turning yellow. So off to the vet we went.

Long story short, he was so sick he could have died. The vet's solution (after running very expensive tests and never figuring out exactly what was wrong) was to have me force-feed him and give him antibiotics. He's a hefty cat, so I asked why a week of malnutrition was such a big deal. Well, apparently when cats stop eating even for a couple of days, they can go into liver failure. Which (as I learned during CPE this summer) is pretty ugly and almost always fatal. The early sign of liver failure in cats? They turn yellow. Yikes.

So, according to the vet, if I force-fed him enough, he would live. If I didn't, he would die. No pressure, right? I launched into nurse mode.

Four to five times a day I would hold Eliot down and feed him watered-down prescription food through a feeding syringe. He hated this. It was like splatter painting. There was food everywhere. I eventually designated some old clothes as my "feeding clothes" so that I wouldn't have to do laundry every two days. I tried to tempt him with every cat-related snack I could think of or cook up: yogurt, wet food, dry food, chicken, salmon, meat-flavored baby food, scrambled eggs, fish sticks, you name it. No dice. He wouldn't sit anywhere but on my bed, and then he started randomly peeing all over it. The force-feedings continued. This went on and on and on.

At 4:45am on Wednesday, I was at the end of my rope. I could hardly get any food in Eliot, and he was going downhill. I was afraid to go to sleep and wake up to a dead cat. I had just worked and gone to school for a 12-hour day while running home to do cat feedings. I was exhausted. So I did something I have a really, really, really hard time doing. I asked for help.

Daryl got a desperate email around 5am saying, in essence, "Please come home. I need you." He had a paper due and three more classes to attend before Thanksgiving break. I assumed I'd see him by Friday or Saturday at the earliest, but even that would be able to keep me going. I finally fell asleep at 5:30am for a couple of fitful hours. When I woke up, I checked my email.

"I'm sorry it's been so hard," said a 6am email from Daryl. "I'll come today."

And this is why our long-distance marriage is working. Not because a PhD program trumps everything. Not because we can just barrel through this year, ignoring its difficulty. Not because we both value our schooling above each other. But because I married a man who loves me enough to drop everything and get on a plane to help me force-feed a sick cat because he knows how important that silly cat is to me.

So the distance is difficult. And not our first choice. But we're making it work, because we have to, because the Lord is gracious, and because it's worth it. And Eliot even miraculously pulled through, and is now happily eating everything in sight and acting like nothing happened. And my graduation is coming, immediately after which I will once again move in with my husband. And the long-distance portion of our lives will end. And I can't wait.