What is going on here?

Hard doesn't mean bad.

2012-02-02T02:24:00.005-06:00

Here I am, about six months into this whole "being a pastor" thing. It's pretty amazing most days, for sure. I'm called 3/4 time at BLC, but I still keep really busy.

Some of the things I do as the pastor are that I develop confirmation lessons and then teach them; I write prayers and sermons; I visit people in the hospital and pray with them before and after surgery, and during illness; I attend council meetings and talk about what's been going on; I go to text study with other area religious leaders so we can "talk about what we're going to talk about;" I go to my youths' sports and musical events; I visit people in their homes or occasionally at the cafe or at their place of work; I visit people in nursing homes; and I lead worship at one of the memory care communities in Bismarck.

I am amazed at the ways people have let me into their lives, and I give thanks for community in Christ.

When I was in seminary, we talked about our "FOOI," which means,"Family of origin issues." We ALL have them, which isn't necessarily a BAD thing, but it IS important to be able to be aware of them and how they affect the ways we minister. Obviously, one of my FOOIs is that both my parents are dead. My dad has been dead since 1995, and while I still grieve his loss, it's a little less poignant by now. However, my mother has only been gone for not quite two years. She was sick for a LONG time with dementia, which was very hard to see.

So, what's the deal? Where are you going with this, Trish?

Well, here's the thing-I'm finding it to be difficult work to minister among the cognitively disabled people. At the memory care community, I give thanks that "my" person always knows me, but I also grieve that some of the other people I see repeatedly don't remember. They have no clue who I am, other than I am a pastor (they know because I wear my clerical shirt when I lead worship there). AND, it's hard to see their cognitive decline, too. I really like these people, see, and I don't like that I "know" what's coming for them, and I don't like that it's ACTUALLY happening (and isn't an abstract "someday" thing). Every time I leave there, I am sad. BUT, I also leave with gratitude that I can minister to them. These people are so amazing. They sing the song I pick with exuberance. When I say, "The Lord be with you" they reply, "And also with you!" When I start, "Our Father," they chime RIGHT in. When I move around the table to administer Holy Communion to them, they stick out their tongues so I can place the wine-soaked wafer in their mouths. And then they say "Thank you." Now, I know "Thank you" isn't a "proper liturgical response" but I can't help but be humbled that they think they have to thank ME for administering what Christ freely gives for them. I'm humbled that they let me come and preach and preside in their midst, and I'm humbled that they are so warm to me when I stick around to visit after worship.

So, when I leave, I pray a lot for them. And I find myself saying a lot of, "God bless these beloved people. God bless 'em!" It's hard work, ministering in a memory care community, but hard doesn't mean bad. The wounds I still nurse in reference to my mother are still pretty fresh, but I think she would be glad to know that I can go because of these two things: The Holy Spirit's work within me, and my love for her.

It's weird; you don't expect a horrible, dreadful, no-good, rotten, memory-stealing disease to have ANY good come out of it. Don't get me wrong, I would STILL punch dementia in the face if it were a person, but dealing with dementia up close and personal has helped shape me into someone who really cares about these beloved ones who are afflicted with dementing illnesses. I can listen to the man who says the same sentence over and over. I can nod at the person who speaks non-words. And I hardly flinch when the F-bomb drops out of a sweet old lady's mouth like she's saying "chicken pot pie." It's hard work, but it's not bad work.

This is me...Updating my blog...

2012-01-19T03:03:00.002-06:00

Hello, Dear Readers (if there are any of you left!!!).

Something has been on my mind a lot lately, due to various circumstances in the lives of some of my friends (the joy of keeping track of people due to Facebook and other social media!). This thing on my mind is, "What happens to people when they die?"

I hear a lot of the sentiment that when someone we love dies, they become our "guardian angel." My intent here is not to be a gigantic jerk-wagon, but instead to look at this idea a little bit.

I do not believe that people die and become an angel who looks after their loved ones. Why? For several reasons. One of the reasons I don't think this is what happens is because angels are a horse of an altogether different color. We are HUMANS. Angels are ANGELS. In some places in the Bible, angels are described as having multiple sets of wings, though at other places, they are described as being human-looking. I don't know exactly what angels look like because to my knowledge, I've never seen one. The point is, though, that there IS a difference between humans and angels. They have a similar purpose, I think, and that is to give glory to God, but I think they do it in different ways. Anyway, that's a whole other post.

The main reason I think that we do not become angels when we die is because that would insinuate that human beings aren't "good enough" in God's eyes. Sure, we're not good enough in our own right, but because of CHRIST, we are made holy in God's sight. Jesus came to live among us as "Emmanuel," as "God with us." That means that God came as a human being in Jesus the Christ. That means that "regular old humans;" humans like you and me, are redeemable and worthy to God. God makes regular, sinful human beings into beloved children because of Jesus, who came, not as an angel, but as a human. And Jesus REMAINS as a human today. When he ascended into heaven, he remained human. Today, Jesus sits at the right hand of God as a HUMAN. This is an AMAZING thing. This is a humbling thing. This is a loving thing.

I don't mean to be a jerk and dash all the thoughts about "Grandpa being my guardian angel" or anything of the like. What I DO mean to say to you is that Christ is FOR you, even and especially as a human. You don't need to become "extra holy" by becoming an angel when you die. Christ redeems all things, including what we are as flesh and blood.

I figure that the people I've been thinking about when I wrote this won't be reading this blog post. But, I still wanted to think about this subject a little more, and get it out there. What do you think?

Remembering the Beginning of the End

2011-10-14T21:49:00.002-05:00

On this date in 2006 was what I call, "The Beginning of the End."

I remember because October 13, 2006 was a Friday and a man died at Restaurant.

Anyway, so October 14th was a Saturday. I was at Sis's house and was sleeping in "my" room when I woke to hear sirens going down the street a few blocks away. I absent-mindedly thought, "I hope that is no one I know." Just then Sis burst into my room saying, "Get up! We have to go to the hospital!" I thought, "OH CRAP! Did BiL electrocute himself!?" (He's an electrician).

Anyway, Sis said that Mom's friend called from the Emergency Department to tell us that she had taken Mom there. Mom had blood in her urine (a symptom called "hematuria). Mom's Friend drove her to the hospital where they performed some tests and then referred her to a urologist.

Fast forward to the urology appointment a few weeks later. Mom was diagnosed with bladder cancer. It ended up being Grade (not stage) 4. Grade speaks to how fast and aggressive a cancer is while Stage speaks to how advanced it is. So, she had a weird Grade 4, probably stage 2 or 3 bladder cancer. The doctor took a scope and burned the tumors off at first. That's how he staged and graded it. The next course he tried was intravesical chemotherapy, which is different from systemic chemotherapy. Systemic is what you're probably thinking of where a person gets an IV for a while and then usually they feel sick and often lose their hair. Intravesical chemo is such that the doctor inserts a syringe into the person's bladder, puts the chemo in the bladder, and then it sloshes around for at least 20 minutes before it is eliminated. After the four treatments were done, a follow up appointment was scheduled.

Just after her chemo ended, I moved to Seminary. I had taken care of her in the best way that I could while I could, and felt called to a new venture. The chemo treatments hadn't been TOO hard on her...They certainly seemed easier than when she'd had breast cancer and had endured systemic chemotherapy. I had driven her to all her bladder appointments and had handed the baton to my siblings.

I probably hadn't been at Seminary for more than a week or so when YS called and said that Mom had more hematuria. I suggested she call the urologist to see what he thought. So, they went back, he burned off more tumors with the scope thing, and it was decided that "Big Surgery" was the only way to get rid of the cancer. So, we convinced Mom to have the surgery, and so it was scheduled.

She had her surgery on March 21st. The procedure is called a radical cystectomy, in which the surgeon did a complete hysterectomy and bladder removal. At that time, the doctor guided her ureter to a stoma on the outside of her body. That's how people without bladders eliminate waste...The ureter goes to the stoma which then empties into a bag that is attached to a person's side. The adhesive gets changed about once a week or so, and a person empties the bag as often as it starts to fill.

But the thing is...Mom had dementia even then. And when she woke up, she was never the same. Looking back, and having talked with some professionals, it seems like she may have had a stroke while under anesthesia. Post-Surgery Mom was drastically changed from Pre-Surgery Mom.

So, that's a long post to basically share a short sentiment-Dates are important for those who grieve. It's been a year and a half since Mom died, and yet I still grieve. I think about her every day, and especially on days like today that hold significance for me and for our family. This date marks "The Beginning of the End" for Mom's earthly pilgrimage. It marks the "jumping in point" for really having to face dementia head on. I'm still learning from this, but also still grieving. I hope that in another five years, I'll have more time and more peace with it all. Peace to you wherever you are in your own grief journeys.

Thankful

2011-08-28T22:44:00.002-05:00

I recently got a haircut. I really love when "haircut day" rolls around, which is usually about every 4-5 weeks, since I wear my hair short. The time before this haircut, I tried a different style, but I couldn't style it the way the cosmetician did, and so gave up on trying that one. So, this haircut was a smidge overdue.

The thing was, I am really cheap. I wanted to wait at least a month to get my new haircut. Then I ended up waiting a little bit longer because I had a doctor's appointment.

What? Why should that matter?

I have been having headaches every morning on the top left of my head. They're not horrible, but they're bothersome, especially considering they've been going on for 2 months. So, I finally went to the doctor. After listening to me describe the headaches, the doctor wanted me to have an MRI to make sure it wasn't a brain tumor. This was the second time in about 9 months that the words "brain tumor" have been spoken to me, so I was a little nervous about it all. And, still cheap.

Cheap, because I didn't want to get a haircut BEFORE the MRI in case I DID have a brain tumor and would need surgery. After all, they would have just shaved my head anyway. Why spend twenty bucks if the hospital would just shave my head in a few days, anyway?

So, last Tuesday, I had my MRI. I have had MRIs before, so I knew what to expect. I just tried to chill out in the tube, and then waited anxiously for the results. Finally, on Thursday, the doctor's office called and said it was clear. What a relief! How thankful am I that these persistent, nagging headaches are not something malevolent growing inside my brain.

So, the day I got my results, I got a haircut. Even though it seems that I'm thankful for the simple thing of getting a new haircut, I think it's something more profound; a gratitude that I could GET a haircut and not have to worry about getting my head shaved. It's a gratitude that I am still pretty healthy, even though I have no answers as to why I have these headaches. But, it's not a tumor. And so, I am thankful-for health and for haircuts.

Realization

2011-08-07T00:02:00.002-05:00

I was just reading some older posts and realized I missed some more stuff...

First off: The awesome family related news I alluded to in February...YS got ENGAGED on Valentine's Day! She and her man decided to get married on April 30th at the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas! All my siblings except for OB went. It was SO awesome, and I'm very glad that they took the leap. YS's husband is a very awesome guy, and I am excited that he's officially my brother in law. He treats her well, and they seem genuinely happy together.

The other big thing: I broke my wrist in March. Some friends and I went roller skating in SeminaryTown, and within 15 minutes, I had fallen. A roller rink employee was right there when I went down and she said, "Are you ok?" I was afraid of getting into trouble, (odd, I know) and so I just said, "Yeah, I'm fine!" Then I got up and started skating around again, thinking that I had just bumped it a bit. But then, the roller rink announcer said that there were no shoes or coats or sweatshirts allowed in the skate-putting-on-area, and so my friends and I all went to move our stuff to the cubby holes. I sat down and my wrist was still really hurting, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I mentioned that I was really in pain and one of my friends asked if I could move it. I could, though it was sore. So, as I got more and more light-headed, they told me to lie down. I asked, "Do they have free water here?" (I have a penchant for asking stupid water-related questions), and then one of my friends came back with a bottle. Another employee came over with a bag of ice, and looked at my wrist a little. Then, my friends said, "It's time to take Molita to the hospital!" So, we got up and were walking out when the guy who took our money came up and said, "You hardly got to skate, so here is your money back." So, we took our money, loaded into the car, and made the drive across town...

AND BOY, WHAT A DRIVE! Every bump hurt like you would not believe. It didn't really, REALLY start hurting until we got into the car, but man...Yikes. I was saying words that are not befitting for a seminary student to say. Oh, and I was laughing hysterically because I am not very good at crying. So, there I was, laughing and swearing profusely, amusing all my friends on the trip.

When we got to the Emergency Room, I was still laughing, and when I went to the window, I told them my name and that I fell down and hurt my arm. I took a seat by all my friends and we waited. When we got to the hospital, I stopped swearing, but I was still laughing and saying fake swear words (Fudgesicles, shoot, frick, and the like) because there were little ears around. Finally they called my name and my friend Sarah walked with me back there. I was having a hard time breathing well because it hurt so bad and the lady told me I needed to breathe better or my face would get numb. So, they got me a wheelchair to sit in because every time I moved, my wrist would hurt more. Sarah pushed me back to the waiting room after the receptionist took some of my info. Then, some dude came and Sarah took me back to talk insurance. At that point, I was mentally cursing whomever chose to put square tiles down in the hallways because each groove caused me serious pain.

When I was done giving insurance information to that guy, Sarah pushed me back out to the waiting room to wait with Meganne and Matt. Some other guy was waiting for his wife, too, and I think he was thoroughly amused by me. All the laughing, I think, was odd for people to see. While we were waiting, one of the seminary employees came out of the ER with stitches in her face. She'd been at a hockey game and had gotten smashed in the head with a puck! So, we are ER buddies now.

Finally, they called me to come back. And so, Matt, Meganne, Sarah, and I went back to a room. Matt and Sarah were classmates of mine, and Meganne is a music therapist, so I said they were my "Spiritual Care Team." We waited and waited and waited, and Sarah took photos of me on her phone and uploaded them to FaceBook. Before long, people were commenting and the like. Another couple of friends saw the pictures and Sarah's status update and asked if we needed anything. So, about half an hour later, they showed up, Matt went and got them out of the waiting room, and they brought bottles of water, some cookies, and a never-been-chewed doggie toy to replace the decimated water bottle I'd been squeezing for the pain. It.was.EPIC!

By that time, I'd had X-rays, and the nurse practitioner (I guess broken bones don't require a doctor) had talked to me. Medical people who were around would occasionally glance in to see what all the laughter was for, and I think that my laughing made them under appreciate the immense pain I was in (really, you wouldn't think a broken wrist would hurt that bad, but it DOES. It REALLY does)! Finally, about ten minutes before it was time to go, they came in and gave me a splint, and asked if I wanted something for the pain. I said, "YES!" The nurse asked if I wanted a pill or a shot. Meganne chimed in and said, "She wants a shot! It'll work faster and she's in A LOT of pain." It was funny, but Meganne does know about these things since she was a music therapist for Hospice (We even started to write a song about my pain and the experience of it all...She says it helps). So, the nurse came in and I got a lovely pain killing shot, and then was discharged with instructions to go to the bone doctor later that week for a cast. Matt and Meganne and Sarah and I went directly to the WalGreens and got my Vicodin, and when we got back to Seminary, Sarah put me to bed.

Having a broken wrist is not pleasant, but the experience was helped by friends who helped me when I couldn't do things for myself. I am very blessed to have such considerate people in my life. I had people to take me to the bone doctor since I wasn't allowed to drive my own drugged-up self (Thanks, Jealaine and Sarah!). I had people to do my dishes so I didn't have to stack them up for a month. I had a neighbor who would open things I couldn't, and another friend who bought me some bath supplies that would help me be able to bathe more easily.

But, I think one of the other highlights of having an awesome orange cast, was the fact that I got so many awesome people to sign it! The day I got it on, my new bishop was at the seminary to meet me and the other WND assignee and his family. So, in addition to many friends who signed it, Bishop Mark Narum also signed my cast. And then, the president of the seminary and his wife ALSO signed it (He's an ex bishop and his wife is just freaking amazing anyway). AND THEN!!!! Because the president was new, he had to be inaugurated in early April. And WHO does the inauguration of a new seminary president? THE CHURCHWIDE BISHOP!!! So, when that day rolled around, I walked up to Bishop Hanson and I lifted up my arm and I said, "Will you sign my cast?" He said, "Sure!" And I handed him my Sharpie and he signed it right in the palm, where I had conveniently left him a space. It was so funny and awesome for me. I mean, how many people can say that Bishop Mark Hanson has signed their cast? I almost wish I'd saved the thing when they took it off...Almost.

So, that is what has been happening in my life. I hope things have been good for you all, and that none of you have broken any bones lately. And if you have, my sincere sympathies are with you.

Wayyyyy too long...

2011-08-06T23:43:00.002-05:00

Sincerely, my apologies for not updating with any sort of regularity. I have thought often about the need for updating, but simply have not gotten around to it.

Much has happened in the months since my last post. I graduated from seminary in May with my Master of Divinity degree. I had interviews with two different parishes and because both issued me a call, I had to discern to which one I was called. The Holy Spirit absolutely led me on the decision, and I am happy and excited about where I find myself.

I was ordained at my home church in Illinois on July 30th. My old pastor came back to be the preacher at the service. I thought it was a great sermon, and I am SO glad he was willing and able to be there for such an important day. Two ladies from my new congregation made the trip from North Dakota to Illinois to be present with me on my ordination day. I thought THAT was so awesome! That's a really long drive. I also had several family friends there, old friends from grade school and high school, and of course, many fantastic and supportive people from my home parish. I experienced a lot of love and affirmation that day, and I give thanks to God for their presence in my life and in the world.

I start my new call tomorrow morning. I'm so excited that I get to start on a communion Sunday. This is a humbling calling, and it is my hope and prayer that I be a good pastor for these people and their community. They seem so amazing, and I hope that we have a good time together.

Something really neat about my new congregation (one of many, many things that makes them flippin' sweet) is that when we were interviewing, they told me that they were the only church left in the town. This being the case, they said they wanted their pastor to be a "COMMUNITY PASTOR." They wanted to make sure the pastor would not sit holed up in the office all day every day, but instead to get to know not just the members of the church, but also of the village. I thought that was incredibly mission minded, and amazing.

Anyway, I already feel very welcomed at the congregation, even with my limited exposure to them. J and I went to the Finn Hall Annual Steak Fry tonight, and that was a good time. It's a very Finnish area, and they take pride in that. The church has deep Finnish roots, so this old German is going to have to learn about the Finns. One thing I learned is that the Finns can be very "sisu," which means, "stubborn or determined." Ha ha. Thanks to the congregation council president for telling me that one.

Seriously though, I am considering myself very blessed by all of this. I am excited, and a little scared (as I always am with anything new), and I hope that I am a good pastor. I hope I don't make any huge mistakes, and that I can be an effective and engaging preacher and teacher. I have many hopes, worries, and ideas, and I am hopeful that the Christ who walks on water will beckon me also onto the surface, and will catch me when I begin to sink.

Movin' on Up

2011-02-23T23:26:00.002-06:00

Well, hmm.

Today was a big day for senior seminarians in the ELCA. Most of us got our regional assignments today on a piece of paper in an envelope in our mailboxes (that's how we did it at our seminary, anyway). I already know my region and synod because J is a rostered leader and bishops don't like to give up their rostered leaders. It's been kind of nice to not have to worry about where I'm going, but again, I find that I ventured away from "the norm" on this one. I didn't have to worry about doing CPE in between junior and middler year because I did an extended unit my first semester here. I didn't have to worry about being flung to some state about which I knew nothing for internship because I was married (though there was anxiety regarding the question of whether or not I'd actually get to live with my new husband). And now, I know where I'm going for first call because J is a pastor. I find it slightly odd that each step along the way, I've had a slightly different experience from a lot of others. Oh well. The majority of my classmates are waiting to see what synod they'll be assigned to. Bishops can start calling on March 3rd for most of us, though one region is earlier, and one is later. Please continue to pray about this.

I'm looking forward to first call. I like North Dakota well enough. The people are great, the scenery has its own unique beauty, and the winters are...interesting. The ONLY thing I really dislike about North Dakota is that it is 800 miles away from my family. I have always been very close to my sisters, and I think we all three are grieving that I will not be around much for the next (at least) three years (probably). Yet, the call of God to serve the Church is not always full of sunshine and roses. Certainly, I don't think I am DOOMED because I won't be near my sisters (and brothers and nephews), but I have realized even more fully these past 11 months HOW VERY IMPORTANT family is. I will miss my sisters, but I have hope that someday J and I will move back to be closer to them. I don't need to be ridiculously close, but 13 1/2 hours is a bit excessive.

Anyway, I keep reminding myself that we get vacations. We have phones and webcams and some of us keep in touch via Facebook. And, I am married and love my husband and want to live with him. And, it's also kind of fun and interesting in its own way that I am the only one in my family who is flung far and wide.

I know that many of my classmates are having similar reactions to their own assignments; a mix of grief and excitement and wondering what is next. I know that some of us are happier than others, and I know that many of us are in different places regarding accepting the changes coming our way. But most importantly, I know and deeply trust that God is present through all of this. The Holy Spirit has called and continues to call us to be messengers of the Good News of Jesus Christ. I know it because I see it and live it every day as I live in community with my amazingly talented and thoughtful classmates, and as I live in community with the wider church and the world.

Please continue to pray for all seminarians, their families, and the places to which we will be called. God hears our prayers.

Senioritis

2011-02-20T00:13:00.002-06:00

I just wanted to put it in writing that I'm really not into this semester. Ha.

I am SO ready to be done with school that I am having a really hard time focusing on classwork. Although, all of us are required to do Spiritual Practices 2, which is a class that focuses on our nutrition, spiritual, and exercise lives. I'm digging this because I'm working on losing some weight and so when I'm down in the Re-Formation room (haha, get it?), or when I'm playing on my Wii Fit Plus, I don't feel guilty because I'm "doing homework." Anyway, we shouldn't feel guilty for taking care of ourselves, anyway. I'm also trying to be a bit more intentional about devotional practices, too. But my "devotion time" is usually involves music (specifically hymns), and being musical isn't something I like doing when there is a chance other people might here me. So, I don't always engage myself. Anyway.

Also, there is really good news on the ol' family front... I'm excited, and will tell you later when I am given the go-ahead. And for the record, no-I am not having a baby.

Anyway, that's about it for now. Peace out.

The light at the end of the tunnel...

2011-02-08T22:51:00.003-06:00

Well, here I sit, at my desk in my dorm room, realizing that this is the last semester I will ever "get" to live in a dorm. I have, for the most part, enjoyed my dorm dwelling days, though I do find it frustrating sometimes. Such is life.

I realized the other day that I haven't posted on here in a very long time. I think I only had something like fourteen posts in 2010. Woops. My bad; I had other stuff going on.

Since my last post, some things have happened. My hard drive had massive failure in mid-December. I was not able to recover anything from it. However, I did find several of my assignments from last semester still hanging around in my "sent items" folder from school. Victory #1. Also, I found my flash drive and realized that I had EVERY SINGLE FILE from my internship on there. When I was finishing internship, I took my flash drive to my office, put all my office files on there to move them to my laptop, and then never deleted them from the flash. Awesome. Victory #2! Really, there's nothing too horrible that I lost... I did lose three year's worth of Prayers of Intercession, all of my college files, and many of my seminary files. I lost a lot of pictures, music, and a letter I wrote to my mom when she was sick, but that I never gave her. I'm grateful for Facebook because many of my pictures are in albums on my FB page. Since then, I had a new hard drive put in my computer, and have that all squared away. Now I just need to wait for external hard drives to be on sale (or for my husband to let me put my stuff on his), and backup my files.

During the month of January, J and I took an 11-day vacation. We had Christmas with his family in Minnesota, went to Illinois for my approval interview (the last official step with the Candidacy Committee), had Christmas with my family, went back to Minnesota to see J's grandma, then headed home. Good news-I was approved for ordained ministry in the ELCA. I'm pleased about this affirmation, and am pleased that they see the call that I have for this ministry. It is good to be "done" with that.

During January, I also worked diligently on my January Interim (J-term) project. I worked it out with my advisor and school for me to do an independent study. I worked hard, read a lot, thought a lot, and wrote a lot. The final project ended up being 23 pages (including 2 pages of resource information in an annotated bibliography style). The title is, "With Sighs Too Deep: A Pastoral Resource Regarding Dementia." The project was my effort at creating a biblical, theological, and pastoral resource for people to use. My advisor told me that she wanted me to also make it personal, because that would bring it alive for people. So, I wrote and wrote and wrote, trying to integrate the Bible, theology, pastoral care, and my own experience with dementia together in a cohesive, engaging, and helpful way. I was slightly worried when I handed it in when I came back to school because I'd never done an independent study before, and I wasn't sure that what I did was exactly what my advisor was expecting.

I found the paper in my campus mailbox the first week of class. I was on my way to a "clergy tax seminar" on campus. When I got there, I opened the binder (I wanted it to look professional!), and flipped through the pages looking for comments and the like. I like comments because they give me a better idea of what works vs. just seeing a letter or the wonderful words, "CR." Anyway, there weren't too many comments, but when I got to the last page of text (before the resources), I saw that she had written at the bottom of the page. Apparently, I did a good job because the comments she gave me were really humbling. She even mentioned that she would like to see me find a way to distribute my work to a larger audience. She and I are exploring a possibility or two, and in the meantime, I have offered it to people who indicate an interest. I hope that it is helpful in some fashion or another for all who read it. I am passionate about the subject of dementia and of helping people to know God's comforting, redeeming, and loving presence in the midst of such catastrophic forgetting. I'm also excited that it was so well received by my advisor/grader and that she is helping me find a way to distribute it more widely.

Apart from these things, school is back in session. Four years has really flown by. When I was an underclasswoman, all the seniors used to say, "Seminary time really flies!" I always thought, "Yeah right!" But as I sit here in MY last semester, I can't help but agree. It's amazing. I'm excited to serve the Church professionally, and I am excited at what might happen in the future. I realized the other day that people must already see me as "pastor-like." I knew this was the case for SOME people, such as those who I served while on internship, but the realization has deepened. I have been asked many theological and practical church questions in the past few weeks, and I have been involved in several pastoral care and theological conversations with people from back home, as well. About half the time, the people have prefaced the question or conversation with, "I've been thinking about xyz, and I thought, 'Who better to talk/ask than Trisha!'" It's slightly daunting, but even more exciting at the same time. I enjoy it, and am continuing to live into the knowledge that God gifts people for ministry in many ways; one of which is by gifting the Church with teachers and leaders who help shape us.

Anyway, that is what has been going on in my life lately. I hope you and yours are well.

Dream

2010-12-09T16:50:00.006-06:00

Ever since I have been a small child, I've always had very vivid dreams. I remember a dream that I had from the time I was around 4 or 5 because it was so vivid, even. Often, I consider it a gift to have such an active subconscious, but sometimes I am troubled by what my brain brings up. But, on the whole, I appreciate the visions of sugarplums that dance through my head.

I think that because of my long history of vivid dreams, and the fact that I remember many of them has helped me become fairly good at decoding what they are saying. Often, I think back to what was on my mind before I went to sleep, and can then figure things out.

I had a dream yesterday that was very odd. I finished my annotated bibliography for a class, took the book back to the library, and sat down at my desk to send it off to the professors. However, I was quickly sidetracked by a horrible bout of nausea (figures, right?). So, I went to lie down on my bed. Soon enough, I was asleep and dreaming this:

I was down in this big basement like room because I was following a bear. It was like I was going into a water level in Super Mario Bros, though it wasn't cartoon-like. It was dark, and I think I had come down a pipe. I jumped off the little platform and into the water. The water didn't really make me feel cold or anything; it was simply something in the dream. As I swam along, I found myself soon enough at this really gross little house that was on stilts to keep it out of the water. It looked all black and mildewy and everything. As the house came into my sight, I also saw the bear I had been following. It was also swimming, but just as I got it in my sight, it pulled this big hose that had a plug on it. I realized it was draining all the water out of the big room, so I went right back to the platform to try to get out, but too much water was already gone. I couldn't get back up onto the platform. Soon, all the water was gone and the bear was backing me against a wall. I was very scared as it continued to back me up until my back was against the wall. But, as I backed into the wall, I looked down and saw a bunch of really long 2x4s right there. As I looked down at them, it didn't register in my brain to pick one up. The bear was snarling at me, and at this point I picked up one of the 2x4s and started swinging it at the beast. Even though the bear was very close to me, I still missed. But, the bear started backing away anyway and then it turned into a less scary thing; a man. It was at this point that I woke up, gasping for breath because I was so scared.

As I lie there in my bed, I thought, "What a strange dream. I wonder what it means." Then, out of the blue, the meaning hit me. The bear was dementia and the big room was grief. The dementia pulled the plug and made me stuck in grief even though I tried to get out of it. When the dementia started coming after me, I didn't know what to do about it and I felt trapped. I saw tools to help and eventually picked one up and used it to help me. I missed because dementia is such a huge opponent, but I felt empowered. When I felt empowered, the bear (dementia) turned into the man (something more manageable). I was fighting it back because I needed to before it ate me up. I kept missing the bear but it kept backing away.

And that's the meaning that came and whacked me upside the head. I have found myself wondering what the water is, but I don't think it had much to do with the dream. I wasn't cold because of it, nor was I drowning in it. It was just something that was. Often, I see water as a symbol for chaos in dreams, but that doesn't fit in this one because the chaos seems to increase with dementia because a person can feel so helpless. I also do not quite know what the gross house was about. Other than maybe the house is symbolic of the brain. The fact that it was covered in mildew (akin to plaques afflicting those with Alzheimer's, or like the blocking of blood vessels due to vascular dementia), and that it was far too small for the bear to live in makes me think that the house is symbolic of the brain. I don't know. Those two things didn't "come to me" the way the rest of the meaning did.

Anyway, I just wanted to share that dream because of the odd circumstances around it. I very rarely wake up gasping for air, but I was really afraid in this dream, and I was also really putting forth an effort to hit the bear with the 2x4. Crazy, I know. But, also an interesting look into my subconscious.

'Tis the Season...

2010-11-29T11:25:00.004-06:00

Well, folks, here we are at the end of November. It's hard to believe this year is almost over already. Yesterday was the first Sunday in Advent. Three more Sundays of Advent, and then we find ourselves at Christmas.

This is also the season of "end of the semester crunch." That sounds like a cereal tagline. "Stressy-O's-they've got that great end of the semester crunch." Haha.

Anyway...In chapel today, our senior preacher talked about the hustle and bustle of the "Christmas Season," meaning how secular culture hijacks the month of December to hawk their wares and get out of the red. He talked of how Christ's birth means more than that. These words were a good reminder.

I find it hard to believe all that has happened since last Christmas. I am a person who often measures time by looking at significant events that have occurred. I remember when X happened because it happened near when Y happened, or on the anniversary of Z, or whatever. Since last Christmas, the hubster and I went on the "Tour de Sushi" vacation, Hub and I celebrated our first married Christmas and Valentine's Day, I made the trip back to Illinois twice to be with my sick and dying mother and then for her death and funeral. I chanted in front of 400 people during Easter morning worship as the intern pastor, among other duties I held as an intern until my experience was over on May 30th. Housewifing for a couple of months held my time, as well as another vacation, skydiving, bringing two of my three nephews to stay with us in ND for a week, and then moving back to school the same weekend as a good high school friend got married. My first semester of senior year is quickly drawing to a close, but not before my first birthday as an orphan, and the dawn of "the Holidays" with this same reality for me and my siblings and countless other people in the world who have experienced the death of loved ones this year.

With all of these truths, with all the joys and sorrows that have come this year, the importance of Christ's presence with and for this world is a great truth to remember. The love of God in Christ Jesus is not something that takes away the hurt and grief of no longer having mom and dad, grandma and grandpa, and other loved ones, but this presence IS a reminder that through it all, we are not forsaken. We are not forgotten. The ones we have lost are not forsaken or forgotten. I take comfort in Jesus words in Matthew 28:20, "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

The world DOES change. Things happen that we wish wouldn't. Pain and happiness mingle together; poignantly at such a time in the year when so much time and energy is spent on "family." And so, with the new reality for me that has only come through my orphanhood, I am learning to embrace "the Holidays," not with a fake, plastered on smile, but with authenticity, with a renewed sensitivity to others, and with the assurance of my Lord and my God: "I am with you always," to love, to forgive, and to offer life where once there was death.

For All the Saints

2010-11-01T20:12:00.003-05:00

Today is All Saints Day; a day in the Church where we remember the saints triumphant (those who have died in Christ) and the saints militant (those who are still living).

In chapel this morning, the leaders read off all the names that were given to them of people related to the community who have died since last year's All Saints celebration. What struck me was how MANY names were read off. I personally knew of several of the people, and some that weren't mentioned. But there were a lot of names brought forth to remember this day. What a reminder of the faith around us and how we all live in the ripples.

I am grateful this day for the example of faith that has been shown to me through many saints. This year, obviously, All Saints Day has taken a slightly different bent, and yet I remember my mom at the same time that many people remember parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and friends.

This community is one that has experienced loss this year. We have grieved the loss of a friend and classmate, the loss of parents (I'm not the only one by far), the loss of loved ones. And yet we still gather to worship, to embrace one another in friendship, and to serve the God who has called us in our baptism to be in this place for a time. We prepare to be sent out in service to the God who calls us to be salt for the earth.

We do so because God has given us people to love and to serve for Christ's sake in the power of the Holy Spirit. For those who have gone before, rest in peace in the love and mercy of Almighty God.

Time heals all wounds?

2010-10-19T00:02:00.002-05:00

Well, friends, it has been a while. Dreadfully sorry.

Anyway, the thing I've been thinking about lately is the saying, "Time heals all wounds."

I call the BS card on this one.

Time does not "heal" all wounds. I don't think "time" itself helps, even. What I DO think is that as we REFLECT on the situations in our past, we learn from them. We begin to integrate our new "changed" self into a self that has meaning. Depending upon your situation, the amount of reflection and time varies.

It has been seven months and one day since my mom died. I just keep thinking, "Why don't I feel better about this yet?" Sure, some days are better than others, but when it comes down to it, when I'm sitting in my room all alone, I can get pretty sad. And so I reflect. And I think a part of why I don't "feel better" about it "yet," is that I'm still going through that first year. There are lots of things that enter my mind that are new. For instance, October 14th was a hard day because that was the anniversary of the day Mom's bladder cancer basically invaded into our lives. And the surgery to fix that was what caused her cognition to seriously deteriorate. Another example of "new" things that calls for reflection and grief is something others might find silly. I am a tactile person. I like to touch things. I often run my hand along the wall as I am walking. As I was walking down the hall to my room the other day, all of a sudden, a vision from my past flashed in my mind. It was of me walking up the stairs with my hand on one wall and Mom holding my other hand. The memory was one of fondness, but tinged with pain as I no longer have Mom to hold my hand, and I can no longer walk up and down those stairs.

And still, I reflect. I grieve. I pray for and think of others who grieve. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: Grief work is hard work. And not work that time itself can do.

Memory Walk

2010-09-19T16:19:00.004-05:00

The Alzheimer's Association is the leading organization for supporting patients, families, friends, and other caregivers affected by dementia. Their primary focus IS Alzheimer's Disease, although they do help people affected by other dementias. Their mission is to accompany patients and their loved ones through the disease with education, care, resources, and support groups. They also are one of the leading organizations that fund Alzheimer's Disease research to try to find a cure for this thieving disease.

Every year, the Alzheimer's Assocation puts on a Memory Walk in communities across the country. The Memory Walk is much like the American Cancer Society's "Race for the Cure." Walkers register and seek to fundraise in various ways. Then, they go to a designated place on the day of the walk, experience a short program, and then walk along a particular path.

This year, I formed a team for the local Memory Walk in SeminaryCommunity. We sought donations and fundraised a decent chunk of money. I felt very passionately about participating to the fullest because of all that's happened with my family and me during Mom's illness. I walked for Mom. At one point during my seminary career, I went and talked to a lady at the local Alzheimer's Association chapter and she gave me a lot of information, books, an Alzheimer's Assocation bag, and a listening ear. It was invaluable. So, I wanted to help repay the favor.

I also wanted to raise money so that we can get closer to a cure. I've recently heard of some promsing research in Australia. I am incredibly hopeful that these scientists, doctors, and professionals are on the right track so that people will not have to fear the diagnosis of "Alzheimer's Disease" in the NEAR future. I walked for the Alzheimer's Association.

Honestly, I walked also for my family and for me though. My maternal grandmother had Alzheimer's Disease. My paternal grandmother had undifferentiated dementia, and Mom had Vascular Dementia. I do NOT want to follow suit. Also, my oldest brother is turning 50 this year, and I want a cure to be available when and if he is diagnosed. I want a cure for if and when my sisters and if and when I get diagnosed. Losing people slowly to such a disease as dementia is too terrible a thing. I can't imagine what it is like for patients when they still are aware of what is happening. I walked for patients, families, and caregivers all over the world. I walked for you.

So, I participated in the Memory Walk to support the Alzheimer's Association. I was the 5th ranked top fundraiser for this community, and that is something of which I am proud. I walked for many reasons. I hope to walk in the future. It is a tangible thing that I can do to help me continue to process through the grief that still very much affects me. It seems almost appropriate that the walk here was six months to the day of Mom's death. I hope that I can continue to be a voice for those who have had there voices robbed from them by dementia. I hope that I honor my mom's memory, and I hope that someday soon, we can live in the joy of a cure and a prevention of a disease that tries to steal who a person is.

Residence Hall Laundry

2010-09-11T20:33:00.004-05:00

Well, here I sit in my dorm room at Seminary. Prolog Week is over, and this is probably the last weekend I'll have for a while with absolutely no homework or reading to do. So, what am I doing to live it up? I am trying to do my laundry.

Exciting, I know. But stick with me here... At Seminary, we get to do our laundry for "free" in our housing units. In the Res Hall, there are three washers and three dryers in the basement. We all share and share alike.

The thing is, there are many people living in the residence hall, and so sometimes there are no free laundry machines. To exacerbate this problem, one of the RH washers is out of commission right now. So, there are TWO washers and three dryers.

I just walked down to the laundry room because I haven't done laundry here yet and I need to wash my sheets and some clothes. But, right now, both of the washers are occupied, and this got me thinking.

It "should" be pretty obvious that in life, sometimes things won't happen exactly the way we want them to. However, I think we forget that a lot of the time. And then when something like all the washing machines being occupied happens, we're reminded of reality. It's not a big deal right now for me to have to wait for a washer to open up. But for some people, especially in our "gotta have it now" society, that would be a HUGE deal. And unfortunately, sometimes reality vs. what we want comes to a head and spills over into our relationships with others.

I remember vividly when I was a middler (2nd year M.Div student) and had my laundry in a washer. I'm usually very intentional about making sure my clean clothes don't sit in the washer for extended periods of time, knowing that other people might be needing to get their own chores done. So, imagine my surprise when one day, someone called me and sniped at me to come get my laundry out of the washer. In a rude way. Even though, I'm fairly certain the washer had JUST stopped.

I am fairly certain that had this woman been a bit more diplomatic and polite about the situation, I would not remember it. But, since she snapped at me and was rude, I DO remember. And in that remembering, I also think about how my actions and words and tone of voice affect how other people "get" me.

So, as I sit here waiting for a washing machine to open up, I am reflective about community and about the compromises and patience which are important to embody. When we "gotta have it now" we are taking away from others who also have a desire to get things done and to live their lives. Unselfishness is important. Politeness is important. This community and every community in which we find ourselves is important. I hope to remember this always, and to live in ways that honor the various types of people in community, as well as myself.

This Old House

2010-06-07T19:49:00.002-05:00

My childhood home has been sold. Way back in February, someone looked at it, liked it, made an offer, and that offer was accepted. We wanted to sell Ma's house because nursing homes are ridiculously expensive, and we wanted to pay them. Ma was always very good about paying her bills, and she would not have been happy to know that Pastures was not getting their money. Anyway, so this person made an offer and it was accepted. But, something about banks these days made it so that we needed to wait two months to close on the thing.

Fast forward to March. Mom died. Guess what? Since the house hadn't been closed on, it became the property of my four siblings and me. Wrench in the plans. We're very thankful that the woman who wanted to buy it was understanding, even to the point of having to wait to get all of our signatures on the sheet, get our signatures notarized, and then back to the bank. Fast forward some more to June. FINALLY the house was sold.

As of last Wednesday, the place I grew up is now off limits to the likes of me. It's kind of weird, really. I lived there for 24 years of my life. Most of my memories are from there.

And now, I can't even go there anymore. The tree my dad planted for me (we got them for Arbor Day in 3rd grade) now belongs to someone else. The old crappy shed that I worked on cleaning out now belongs to someone else. The grass I successfully grew on the north side of the lawn (my dad had tried multiple times to no avail) is no longer mine. The walls that have heard the echoes of so many laughs and so many, "I love yous," and so many conversations no longer are mine.

Now, someone else gets to enjoy the shade of my pine. Someone else can store their belongings in my shed. Someone else gets to mow my grass. Someone else gets to laugh, love, and share life within my walls. Their pine, shed, grass, life.

And even though I grieve the loss of yet another familiar thing, I have hope that this woman will enjoy the place and make new memories and bring joy to her home. HER home.

Grief and the Trunk of My Car

2010-05-29T12:52:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was my last day in the office at the big church where I am the intern. My smaller church doesn't have a building at all, so all of my office time has been spent at Big Church (BC). BC is a fairly large congregation, replete with two pastors, an administrative assistant, director for Christian education, parish nurse, and me (for a couple more days, technically).

One of the great thing about BC's "staff church" status is that the staff is excellent. Sure, there are tensions between a couple of people, but nothing insurmountable. We all have gotten along quite well during my ten months of internship.

All of the staff have been great to me during my time in North Dakota. In particular, the administrative assistant, whom we shall call "Smiley," has been a wonderful addition to my life. Not only is she a model of efficiency and pleasantness, she is also very, VERY fun, and to top it off, she reminds me of Sis.

Anyway, yesterday was my last office day, like I said. I was reflecting on how I'd been at Restaurant for 10 years and how I'd been at BC for ten months, and how much more sad I was at the thought of leaving BC.

I waited until everyone else left before I went to get the box I had put in my car (Arnold). Even though they knew yesterday was the last day I'd be working with them in the office, I didn't want to upset them with that reminder. So, Smiley gave me a hug and then they all left.

Which brings me to the gist of this post. I went out and got the empty box to put the bulk of my "office stuff" into. I went to my office and loaded my books and pictures and some things into my bags, and then put most of the stuff in the box. Then, I started carrying my things out to my car. I opened the trunk and realized that the only times I ever open the trunk of my car are times fraught with grief.

When Mom was dying, and J and I decided to drive all night, the trunk was opened to put in our suitcases. The day of her funeral, we opened my trunk to put plants and other funeral home things in there. When we needed to head back to North Dakota, I had to put the last box of my stuff from my childhood home into the trunk, full well knowing that I would probably never get to see the inside of that home ever again because someone wanted to buy it. Even though the death of one of the most influential people in my life is different from leaving a well-loved "job," it is still a grieving process.

So, yesterday, as I was cleaning out my office and taking my things to the car, I realized that the trunk of the car is a place, for me at least, where grief's shadows linger. The trunk lid is opened, and in are poured boxes and contents of my life during times of grief and processing, as well as some of my tears and angst.

I knew full well that my internship was a "fixed time-frame" job. That's what it is to be on an internship. I knew that Mom's time was drawing to a close. That's a part of what it is to be a human being with a terminal illness. And yet, these obvious truths did not stop and do not stop the grief. Which leads me to yet another point: Grief is not a bad thing.

Grief is a healthy thing. Certainly, the loss of loved ones, the realization that we don't get to see people who make us laugh and feel loved on a regular basis, and the growing older and losing the things of childhood cause all sorts of different emotions within us. They hurt, often to the point we think it is unbearable. These things cause tears-even for those of us who don't often cry. All this grief and change help us to see that life is not some perfect utopia, but is instead a place where good and bad things happen everyday. But it's healthy. Grieving is healthy, even if at the same time uncomfortable. Grieving reminds us that we have loved and been loved; reminds us that we have made memories that are irreplaceable; reminds us that we are indeed alive.

And this makes me want to go and open the trunk of my car.

Years gone by...

2010-05-23T18:45:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow, my father will have been dead for fifteen years.

As time has passed, I have experienced different emotions on this day. Last year, I was out golfing with YS and getting a sunburn on one half of my body. Three years ago, my youngest nephew came home from the hospital after being born. Nine years ago, I was taking final exams in high school; thirteen I was graduating from eighth grade...

This year, I find myself a bit more grief-stricken than in some of the other more recent years. I think this is because of the added grief of Mom having died just two months ago. Because our grief at the loss of Mom is so new, I find myself reminded of the intense grief that came from the trauma of "the accident" and Dad's death. So, I remember and find the grief a bit compounded.

I do give thanks, as I reflect, that the last words I said to both of my parents were ones of love. After Dad's heart attack, I stayed (relatively) calm, got the car stopped, and stayed in it while YS and our friend jumped out. I stayed with Dad for a few minutes, and only left because YS and Friend were standing by some guy I did not know. I didn't want them to go with some stranger in their shock, so I got out of the car. But, not before I looked at Dad and said, "Dad, I love you."

That day at Pastures, I told Mom several times, "Mom, we love you." And, well, the story about her death is just a couple below this one.

I don't really know what the purpose of this post is. I suppose I just feel kind of alone in the midst of all this. I'm 800 miles away from my family. My friends are spread far and wide. And thankfully, most of my friends still have their parents. I reckon I am trying to get some of this off my chest and out there. I miss my parents.

Everywhere I go...

2010-04-08T00:57:00.002-05:00

It seems that everywhere I go these days, "Moms" come up.

This grieving thing is harder than I thought.

Please continue to pray for my family and me.

Sacred Space

2010-03-25T22:11:00.003-05:00

*This post could be considered disturbing to some. This is my disclaimer.*

Last Wednesday afternoon, YS called me at the church where my office is. Older Brother the Younger had been to Pastures to see Mom, and while he was there, the doctor came to see her. He said that she was not doing well and that it was probably a "matter of days." YS wanted me to know so that I could plan accordingly. I decided that I would leave for Illinois the next morning to be with Mom and my family to walk together this journey before us.

The rest of the day was spent doing regular "intern pastor" type stuff. We did Wednesday night Lenten worship, and some of us were chatting afterward. The pastors and staff at the church were incredibly supportive of me, and wished me safe travels for the 800 mile trip back to my home communities.

When I got back to the parsonage that night, my phone rang again. Sis was on the other end of the phone. She needed my advice because one of the nurses at Pastures called and said that it was looking like Mom would not make it through the night. She wanted me to tell her if she should go to the home or not. I tried to be "pastoral" and let her make her own decision, but ultimately, Sis said, "What would you do?" I told her that I would go to the home, just so Mom wouldn't be alone. Sis then said she'd go. So, she and YS went to the home, and Jake and I hurriedly packed up and left for Illinois. YS said that while they were with Mom (til about 2:30 a.m.), she told her, "Trish is coming, Mom. Trish is coming."

Jake and I drove all night. The drive from the parsonage to Pastures takes approximately thirteen hours. But we kept going, and we got to Pastures around 11:30 a.m. A CNA took us to Mom's room, where she was on oxygen and largely unresponsive; lying on her bed and facing toward the window showing a beautiful sunny day. She looked to be awake, but aside from her breathing, she was not moving. I leaned over her, kissed her forehead, and told her, "We love you, Mom." Her eyes moved a tiny little bit as I said these words to her. As we remained with her,I held my hand on her shoulder and we watched her breathe. In. Out. In....Out...........In Out In Out. Again, "We love you, Mom." For twenty minutes, we watched her breathe. In...Out...

And then there was nothing.

I tried to feel for a pulse, and when I felt nothing, I pushed the nurse call button. The CNA came in, checked, and then called the nurse. Mom's struggle was over. We spent some time with Mom's body, listened as some of the Pastures staff came in and gave us condolences, and I traced the cross on her forehead, proclaiming the promises made to her in baptism, "You have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever." She waited for me; the last of her many wonderful gifts of which I was the recipient. She may not have cognitively known that I was her daughter, or maybe she did. But I think she waited. For me.

Needless to say, this past week has been incredibly painful for my family and me. I have been a little surprised by the intensity of grief I've been feeling. Don't get me wrong, I really, really loved Mom, but I thought I was "ready." She'd been so unwell for so long, I thought I'd be okay once her death came. But really, I'm realizing that we're never really ready to stop making memories with the ones we love. We're never ready to lose that last connection, no matter the circumstances around the death. It's hard. This grief work is hard work, and so I appreciate the prayers of many faithful people, near and far.

Life in the midst of death

2010-03-10T23:37:00.002-06:00

Last Wednesday, YS left a message for me in my voicemail saying that Ma had been taken to the hospital. The Nursing home (We'll call it "Pastures") had called Sis earlier and said that Ma was having high blood sugars, a weird heart rate, was pale, lethargic, and otherwise not doing well. So, Ma was taken to the hospital where she was diagnosed with sepsis and pneumonia.

These two things are the leading causes of death for people with dementia. Therefore, my siblings and I were concerned for our mother's health, although we have been for some time. Her dementia has caused her further cognitive decline to the point that I no longer have to wonder if she knows me because I know that she does not.

I went to Illinois to see Ma over the weekend. It was a long and exhausting trip, but I'm glad I went. My siblings said that she was singing in her sleep. They didn't know the tunes, but were thinking that they were hymns. When I visited Ma, she was sleeping most of the time. She was not singing for me, so I sang to her. At one point while I was singing, "Seek Ye First the Kingdome of God," she folded her hands as if in prayer. She could not say any prayers with me, nor did she sing with me. But, her brother and sister in law went to see her the next day and said she was singing in her sleep while they were there.

I don't say this flippantly, but instead, in awe. Mom was always a singer. She sang at funerals, weddings, community events/dedications, in multi-community karaoke contests, and in church. She sang at home, in the car, and while working in the yard. One of the hardest parts of seeing her mental decline was the fact that she stopped singing. Imagine our surprise when we heard (or heard of) her singing in the midst of such a serious illness.

I'm grateful that somewhere deep inside her blocked and deteriorating brain; in her personality and character, lay her love of music. I'm grateful that the gifts of God in her life continue to make themselves evident, especially as my brother mentioned he thought he heard her sing, "Alleluia, Praise the Lord" at one point. Singing was a way she could reflect the goodness of God in her life. The fact that music has returned to her reminds me of Romans 8:26 where we hear that the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. The Holy Spirit, I believe resides in her and gives her the strength and ability to sing in the life she has left. Even if it goes away again, this time of regained music has been a gift.

Anyway, I appreciate the prayers of those who choose to pray for Mom, my family, and me. Thank you for listening.

Hard Days

2010-01-18T19:16:00.003-06:00

As most of us know, the island nation of Haiti was devastated by a magnitude 7.0 earthquake on January 12, 2010. Millions of people from all over the world have been affected by this. The people of Haiti live in extreme poverty, and so such a cataclysmic event damages these people even more. We pray for the people of Haiti, for rescue workers, and for the family members and friends of those who have died.

Four of my seminary mates were in Haiti at the time of the earthquake. Sadly, one of them was killed. His wife and cousin were able to escape from the building they were all in, but B was not. The other person in the country was not with the other three, and even, was in a different town altogether. She was bumped and bruised, but otherwise is physically safe. I give many thanks to God for bringing her back to the U.S. after many failed options, aftershocks, and experiencing to an extent the horrors of a natural disaster. We pray for S as she continues her journey home, and we pray for B's wife, cousin, family, and friends all over the world. The grief that has erupted is great and his loss is profoundly felt.

Today, the big church where I intern had a 9th grade confirmation retreat. The kids learned, played, and spent time together as a community of believers. They weren't all thrilled at having to give up their MLK Jr. Day off, but we appreciated that they came. In the midst of the day, the kids played a game called something like, "Taffy Pulling." It's a game where the kids link together by entwining their arms, hands, fingers, and legs. They hold on for dear life while other people go around trying to separate them all from each other. The last two people connected are the winners. I had never even heard of this game before today, so I stood back and watched.

In the middle of the game, as I listened to the kids' laughter and realized I was laughing myself, I heard one of the girls, who was deeply entangled with another girl, say, "I have no shame. I've won this game before and I will do it again!" I continued laughing and then I felt grief smack me in the face. The girl's comment made me think about how deeply we entwine our lives with those around us and how we hold on for dear life. Our lives are enriched in many ways by the social interactions we have with those in our lives. When someone we love dies, it is painful as that person is wrenched away from us. We wish to hold on, for the hands that pry to go away.

But the thing is, grief is not a shameful thing. We should have no shame in our grief because tears and longing are measures of the gifts of God in our lives. God gifts us with community and with the ability to love. When our earthly sojourn, however long, is over, God embraces the one we love, not as the one who has pried away, but as one who opens arms to show love. God embraces us through our tears and angst. God embraces. Through the embrace of a gracious and loving God, we grieve as ones who have hope. We hope in the promises made in baptism; in the promise that Christ remains with us not to the end of OUR age, but to the end of THE age; and in the hope that Christ redeems us in all that we are.

Today, I give thanks for the lives that entwine with mine, and for the gifts of God for you and for me.

A book and a realization

2010-01-01T16:05:00.002-06:00

Currently, I am reading a book entitled, Here if You Need Me. I'm not very far into the book, but up until now, the author has been talking about her life as a Game Warden chaplain, and her life prior to that as a wife and mother. See, the book is a true story, and right now, I'm at the point in the book where she has tended to the body of her recently deceased husband. He was a police officer and was killed in a car accident. She and some friends and family tended to his body in the funeral home, and they also were present at his cremation. The bit in the book that struck me, however, was the one where, on their drive home from the funeral home, the author (named Kate) turns to her mother and says, "Make sure that when I die, you remember to have me cremated at Parklawn. Put me in the same oven they put Drew in. If you're facing the ovens, it's the one on the left." And Kate's mom says, "I'll remember."

I found it a slight bit odd that Kate was giving her mother these instructions, and I found it odd that Kate's mom said, "I'll remember." That is NOT the way things are supposed to go. Parents are "supposed" to die before their children. But, Kate's mom didn't say something like, "Oh honey, I'll be dead long before I have to remember something like that." She simply said, "I'll remember." I suppose in the midst of her own grief, she recognized the horrible pain her daughter was experiencing.

I can't help but think of my own life in the midst of this. My mother has pretty much always been one who tries not to add to the pain of others in any way. When my dad died, I don't even remember her really crying when we were in that hospital room seeing him. She said, "Oh, Jay," and that's about all I remember. I don't remember her crying at the visitation or the funeral or, for that matter, any time really after that. I suppose she, being a stoic German, was afraid that if she started crying, it would make us kids feel worse and then she'd have to deal with not only her own grief, but her kids' grief, too. But it wasn't that she didn't care that such a horrible thing had happened, or that she didn't remember. Certainly she did, as she would say at our graduations, "Your dad would have been so proud." She remembered him in her own way, and didn't often bring him up in conversation.

And I'm realizing in myself, as I remember this line in the book, that a part of why I'm so sad about my mom's cognitive state, is that she's not "here" to remember that she loves ME. She's not "here" to remember that she loves my brothers and sisters, or that she loves to sing, or that she loves doing her yardwork and working up an appetite in the yard. She's not able to remember all those times we would come to her with some sort of boo-boo and she'd kiss it and make it all better, all the while trying to suppress a laugh because, really, how much does that teeny weeny little bump hurt? I want her to remember for herself, but I also want to be remembered by someone who has known me all my life, and who loves me anyway. Sure, I have that in my siblings, but sibling relationships are different. The wonderful relationship I have with my sisters, and the good relationship I have with my brothers (for the most part), is a lot different from the relationship a person has with the one, who along with God, made them.

Anyway, I suppose this post doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but that one discourse in the book just got the old noggin' a going. There is often a saying for people who do Clinical Pastoral Education, and that saying is, "Name it and claim it." CPE is a time when students not only learn about visiting with people in clinical settings, but they also learn about themselves in the midst of group and supervisory settings. We are taught that it is helpful to us, AND to the people we serve, if we are able to understand WHY we feel the way we do in various settings. So, when we are uncomfortable, it is potentially helpful to figure out the emotion we are experiencing and then claim it, not as bad or good, but as something that is, and go from there. So, I'm attempting to name and claim the emotions this book is bringing into my experience, so that I can learn and grow and attain a bit more peace about the state of affairs in portions of my life. Name and Claim. Here we go.

A Post We Hope is Cohesive, but Will Probably End Up Just Rambling On

2009-12-20T21:00:00.002-06:00

Holy Cow. It has been way too long since I've updated this blog. Yikes. I guess being a married woman with a "job" makes me a bit more busy than when I'm simply an unemployed student.

Well, J and I have been married for about seven months now. Time flies when you're having fun. He really is a wonderful man and I love him like mad, even if I don't always seem like I do.

Internship...Well, I still am really enjoying it. I usually preach twice a month, consecutive Sundays. I have two churches, so I preach once at each. We have a retired Presbyterian pastor and his wife who attend the big church, and they are so nice. After every time I preach there, on the way out when he shakes my hand he says something so encouraging. One time he said, "You really have a gift, friend!" Today, he said, "You really write a mean sermon!" (Not mean in the "hellfire and brimstone" way, but "mean" like, "Woah, dude" type of way). That means a lot to me coming from someone who's been ordained for 56 years.

Also on internship, I am enjoying leading a monthly Bible study, leading services at an assisted living facility as well as two nursing homes, and getting to know the people more. I'm not such a fan of being a confirmation small group leader. Teenagers have never been my strong suit. When I WAS a teenager, I didn't even really feel like I fit with most of them. But, we laugh and I am still a dork, and if they don't like it, oh well. The problem more lies with I have a hard time being "the heavy" on kids who really don't show an interest in religion. I try to help them see God's relevance in their lives, but at this age, I just don't think my group "gets it." We'll see.

Anyway, it's cold here in North Dakota. We had a bitter cold snap last week with temperatures (without wind chill) being in the negative teens. It was very frigid. So, when it warmed up to 34 degrees, I went around without a coat. It's funny how we get acclimated to this sort of thing. We don't have very much snow yet, but it's supposed to snow pretty much all week, I think. Hopefully it doesn't make my commute too hairy. If all else, many many people have offered me a place to stay in my internship town in case it ever gets gross outside and leaves me unable to travel. I serve with really great people.

Christmas is right around the corner. Today was the last week of Advent. I really like Advent. I think it appeals to my "dark" side, not that Advent is "dark." Advent, though, has a much different flavor than Christmas, and I appreciate the contemplative nature I think Advent embodies. This is my first Christmas away from Illinois. I'm trying to roll with the changes, but sometimes it's hard. I'm not going to lie about that one. It's not that I've never spent Christmas more alone than how I'm going to spend it this year, or anything. When my mom was still relatively healthy, she dated this really awesome guy and would go to his family gatherings on the holidays. My siblings, at that point, were all going to their significant others' family gatherings. So, I was often left at home alone on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day. I wasn't thrilled about it, but hey, I'm not the type to invite myself places.

So, the deal this year is that I'm roughly 800 miles from all my family, and I miss them. After about a year or two of being left alone on the holidays, Sis decided to throw "combined" family parties, so no one would have to be alone. And now, I'm in NoDak, all my family is in Illinois, J's family is in Minnesota, and I am missing the "familiar." J got us a Christmas tree this year, and I realized I left all my ornaments at home in Illinois. So, the Christmas tree is full of his (very cute) ornaments, but I still find myself a little sad that this tree seems to be "his" and not "ours." Maybe that's weird of me to say, but I can't help feeling that way. I think the "firsts" in our lives, cause grief, even if they're "happy" firsts. My "first" married Christmas is also my first Christmas completely away from everything I've ever known.

I am looking forward to our first married Christmas. I was driving home from church today and I realized that we have pretty much "been together" for two years now. Our first date was in December '07. I blogged about it, but at the time didn't realize it was a date. Looking back on it, I just smack my head and say, "DUH!" Ha. So, married Christmas will be neat. I came to visit the week after Christmas last year, and that was fun, and I really am looking forward to this year.

Finally, I suppose a part of my ambivalence about Christmas this year comes from Mom's continuing illness. Sis and YS went to the Supermax on December 1st because the home puts on a Christmas dinner every year. They went and sat with Ma and they had dinner and I think some games and things. Mom, although still pretty much completely ambulatory, has lost the ability to speak in any sort of coherence. Sis and YS said that most of the words she uses are actually "non-words," which is common for people with dementia. On the plus side, she did call YS by name at one point, and she was reading some words off a napkin or something, although some of the time, she was able to read them, and some of the time, she was putting the emPHASis on the wrong sylABle, and sometimes she was saying the completely wrong words. But sometimes it's there, so that's neat. I just am finding myself really missing her right now, which is weird to say considering she's still alive. But, although some of the essence of her personality is still there, the majority of how she once related to people is not. I haven't talked to her or seen her in almost seven months because the phone really is not something she can handle anymore, and I've not been "home" since early June. I feel like a huge whiner with this paragraph, but sometimes it helps to just put it out there.

Anyway, so that is what is going on in the life and times of Trish. I have said it before and I will probably always say it, but there are things we consider "good" and "bad" in every day, and I'm trying to live more "good" than "bad." I hope you all have a blessed end of the Advent season, a very merry Christmas, and a wonderful and hope-filled start to the new year. It's hard to believe that 10 years ago, people were freaking out about the Y2K bug. Lol. May this next year be one of little anxiety and much joy. Peace.

Are you Kidding Me?

2009-10-22T15:09:00.003-05:00

I just got off the phone with some lady who told me I had won $1000 dollars in grocery store coupons and a $40 gas coupon for grocery shopper appreciation month. I thought, "This is too good to be true." I was waiting for them to say, "But you have to buy yada yada yada" or something along those lines. The woman I was talking to said that my name had been randomly drawn because I had recently made a purchase at a grocery store in North Dakota.

Well, she had my address and the like, and we talked for maybe 5 minutes before she said, "Now, for us to send these cards to you, you just have to pay a one time shipping and handling fee of $6.95."

Seems to me, that if I "won" this, they could pay the S&H because I "won."

So, at this point, I said, "I think I'm going to opt out. This sounds too good to be true."

The woman said, "No, you just have to pay a one time fee of $6.95. That is all. And we will send this to you and you will have $1000 dollars to use on grocery purchases." I kept telling her that I wanted to pass, and she kept repeating the above words. Finally, I said, "I think I'm going to hang up the phone now. Choose someone else for the prize."

The woman? She replied, "Do you know what common sense is? Because if we're trying to give you money, you should take it! That's what common sense is! So, you say you're going to just hang up now, but I'm going to hang up because you don't have common sense, so you don't deserve it!"

Then, she hung up.

SCAM!!!

Why are people insulting my intelligence?

My "job"

2009-10-22T13:36:00.002-05:00

I have the EXTREME pleasure of being a pastoral intern at two different churches in North Dakota. One of my congregations is a fairly large congregation, and the other is a small, mission start congregation. I absolutely love them both, and am learning SO much. The job is also far more fun and fulfilling for me than I ever thought possible. As a part of my internship duties, I get to write an article for the monthly newsletters. They're usually titled "Trish's Topics," but this month, at the bigger church, my supervisor (The Administrative Pastor) said I could write the front page article regarding stewardship. The seminary asks us to focus a bit on stewardship during our internship year, so this is a good thing. The following is my "Stewardship" article.

November Newsletter Article (Big Lutheran-Front Page-Stewardship)

“For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.” -1 Corinthians 12:12.

Stewardship; a word that can strike fear and dread into the hearts of Christians everywhere. Stewardship is often thought to be about how people in the congregation give money, often out of a feeling of obligation. However, stewardship is SO much more than giving TO the Church.

When we embark on “stewardship campaigns,” we do so with ministry in mind. And so, when discussing stewardship, it helps us understand the importance by thinking about it in terms of who God is. With that being said, I think it’s important to point out that people do not give TO the Church. Instead, we give THROUGH the Church.

YOU are the Church. We are many members, and yet one body. When we give of our time, talents, and possessions, we don’t merely do so in order for the building to stay open, for kids to be taught, or to listen to special music, the liturgy, or the preacher. We give through the Church to embrace our callings as children of God in Christ Jesus. We give AS the Church, THROUGH the Church, for the sake of the Gospel of our Savior and Lord. Giving is an act of grace; a response to God’s grace first given to us.

Your giving of time, talent, and possessions takes the Gospel in words AND actions to people here, as well as all around the world; people God loves and redeems. Lutheran Social Services, missionaries, Lutheran World Relief, World Hunger, and countless other programs are supported by YOUR giving. The quilters’ actions help keep people warm with the sending of their quilts. The confirmation youth help the community and the congregation in many ways with their service projects. These are all Gospel acts of love and mercy. This means that people are being fed, clothed, housed, warmed, and loved through you! The Gospel is being acted out, and not merely being given lip service THROUGH you!

A little over a month ago, I was introduced to Chuck Suchy. Drawn to his mellow sound, I discovered an appreciation for his music. Pastor Jack loaned me one of his Suchy CDs the other day, and so I have had it spinning in the CD player and in my mind. I noticed a verse in the song, “The Pleasure of Her Company” that says, “Too many live in drudgery/Closed to possibility/Never waking joyfully/Living all they’re called to be.”

People of God, you are called to be the Church. You are called to “preach the Gospel at all times, using words when necessary.” (St. Francis of Assisi). May your giving and your receiving of grace be done with minds and hearts flung wide open to the surprising wonder of God’s love for you. Live in joy instead of drudgery. God is with you and God is with “them.” Let us nourish the body, trusting that Christ’s presence and love is with us here on North Dakota’s prairies, and also on China’s rice paddies, India’s slums, and Africa’s deserts. God is THAT big and our response to grace can make MUCH difference.

Intern Trish

Finally-The Wedding!

2009-09-12T22:24:00.003-05:00

Well, I have become quite sub-par at updating this blog. I'm contemplating whether or not I want to continue writing it or not. Maybe a shift in purpose for it is in order... I don't know.

Anyway, the wedding...

Saturday morning, J and I got up and showered and what not, and then drove to the church together. We didn't really see the need to do the whole "not see each other the whole day of the wedding" thing. We didn't want to see each other after we started getting ready, but had no problems seeing each other that morning and driving over together. It was actually kind of cool.

So, we got to the Church and went our separate ways; him to his Sunday school room, and me to mine. We did talk about lunch at one point in the car though, and he decided he'd go to Subway and get some sandwiches. I was wearing my Lucky Charms shirt, which several people thought was amusing to wear on our wedding day.

When I got to the church, I didn't have to wait long for Diane, the Mary Kay lady to come. I am absolutely inept at makeup, and Diane, being very talented, was willing to help me out. YS used to sell MK, and Diane was the person who got her into it. Diane had done a test run a while back to figure out colors that would look good, so all she had to do the day of the wedding was slap the stuff on my face. She did an absolutely WONDERFUL job, in my opinion, and I especially appreciated that she didn't treat me like a moron for being so ignorant about makeup (since I don't wear it on any sort of regular basis).

The photographer and his wife (they're a team) got there around the same time as Diane. Bob did a lot of photography for the guys and his wife, Pat, did a lot of our photographs. They're both delightful people with a ready smile, and a nice sparkle in their eyes. I was incredibly happy with the service they provided.

So, YS, Sis, and SiL came to the church and we all were getting ready. SiL tried putting some bronzer or something on my arms and stuff to hide the ridiculous tan lines I had, and I was okay with it, regardless of what it looked like. Sis also "did" my hair, which didn't involve much because I have really short hair. Pat took all sorts of photos of us getting ready, and Bob took photos of the guys. Also, J's dad was there taking some "candid" pics of us, too, which was also delightful. He took some really good pictures.

After a while, J brought some lunch and his dad (I think) brought it over to us. I was a little bit nervous (Not because I thought I was making some huge mistake or anything, but because I'm not huge on being the center of attention when I'm out of my element. Dresses and makeup are DEFINITELY out of my element). Because of this nervousness, I was only able to eat about 3 bites of my sandwich, which made me even more nervous, because I didn't want to faint! Lol. At some point, Pastor M came in and we got a couple of pictures taken together. She's really cool and I am SO THANKFUL that she was a part of the day.

So, we finished getting ready, taking lots and lots of photos before the ceremony, and hanging out. Oh, and I forgot to mention... The florist we used was the hometown florist. I hadn't actually told her what kinds of flowers we wanted, because we didn't really care. I just told her what our colors were, and I think I may have mentioned that my favorite color is orange. When we got there on Saturday morning, I looked into the sanctuary and was definitely NOT!! disappointed in the slightest! K did a BEAUTIFUL job at putting together our flowers. I was mucho excited.

After a while, it was time to get that show on the road! Interim had come back to kind of get us all ready to go, and we all walked out and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up. The music started playing and they started walking in. Oh, and we had a procession, so Pastor M and Interim started the procession with the cross and the big Bible. They walked in to "Lift High the Cross." After all the bridal party went in (no ring bearer or flower girl...J and I just said "no" from the get-go), I walked out to join J because we had decided to walk in together. My dad has been gone for several years, and J and I had talked and decided it'd be cool if the both of us got to walk in. And so we thought, "Heck, why not walk in together!" So, all the people in the sanctuary were looking back, and as "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" started to play, we started to walk in. I had a huge smile on my face the whole time, to say the least.

We got to the chancel, went up the couple steps, and took our place in front of the pastors. The service started and went pretty well. However, when it came time to exchange vows, I started sweating a little! Not because I didn't want to say it (again, that was DEFINITELY not the case), but because J went first, and then my turn came where Interim gave me about twelve words to say at once. For J, he took it nice and slow, but Interim forgot to give me a pause! I freaked out for a nanosecond, but then thought, "I can do this!" So, I did! A friend after the service said, "We were wondering about all those words he gave you at once!"

Pastor M gave a FANTASTIC sermon that spoke to the reality of our lives, but that also shared the Gospel. She acknowledged that we grieved the absense of our parents (Ma was not able to be there because of her cognitive state. It would have been way too much for her). J's mom and my father are also deceased, so that was a void. But, Pastor M talked about many wonderful things regarding married life and the love of Christ. J and I would have loved to have a copy of it.

J and I, being the "religious" type, also decided we wanted communion at our wedding. Interim was supposed to do the words of institution, and then J and I would serve the congregation. However, Interim said, "Sister M will now say the words that make this the body and blood of our Lord!" and J and I just thought, "OH NO!!!!" Why, "Oh no?" Well for two reasons, really. 1. What we SAY OR DO does not do some magic that changes the elements into the body and blood. It is GOD'S action ALWAYS that comes to us, and 2. Pastor M. is not familiar with the setting that my home church uses and did not BECOME familiar with it because that was one of the things that we gave the interim to do. Oy. But thankfully, Interim realized his mistake and then did it.

We served communion to the people who came forward; family, family friends, friends from childhood, friends from seminary. It was so cool for us to share in that on our wedding day. And, Oldest Brother CAME to the wedding! I was excited.

As the wedding ended, we walked out so that we could walk back in after the rest of the bridal party exited. On our way out, I looked to my right and saw a whole group of my seminary friends with a giant orange feather boa wrapped all around them! I got a huge smile on my face and nodded happily. Hehe. It was freaking awesome! AND, some of my friends actually wore orange. One of my good friends dressed her little guy in an orange shirt. Older brother the younger also wore an orange shirt, and another good seminary friend (a man) wore an orange shirt. These "small" actions just made me feel even more special because they did these things in an intentional manner to make the day even better for me. I'm a big fan of color (thus my happiness that the paraments on the altar were red for Pentecost Sunday the next day), and was glad to see such vibrance as we exited the sanctuary. I have great friends!

When the whole bridal party came out, J and I went back in and we ushered people out. We gave and received many, many hugs and well wishes. We saw again, exactly who was there to celebrate with us (though during the service, the pastors had us turn around a couple of times to look at who was there, and we also saw at Communion). It was great!

One of the ladies we invited (a recent widow) said, "This was one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever been to. Thanks for inviting me." I was humbled to hear that. She's a special lady, and I'm just glad that she could find some joy in the day, though I'm pretty sure that she also felt some grief, considering her relatively new situation.

We then walked outside. One of my absolute best friends and one of J's absolute best friends served as ushers for us, and they passed out the bubbles that we had bought. Neither J or I wanted bird seeds because I have a tendency to get things in my eyes. So, we walked outside and people blew all these bubbles at us. Someone (I think J's dad) took a great picture of us where the bubbles were all around us (mostly me, but some were around J, too, I think). We actually ended up using that picture on our Thank You notes.

After we visited outside (the weather was gorgeous!), the guests all headed toward my home town to the reception hall, while our families, bridal party, J and I stayed to finish taking pictures. That took a little while, and then we finally got to head north. As we were driving toward the edge of town, the clouds opened up and downpoured on us! Thankfully, though, the sky was partly cloudy/mostly sunny by the time we drove the five miles to the hall. It was gorgeous. We ate good food, talked to friends and family, and then started the toasts.

THE TOASTS! Ha. Sis was my matron of honor and YS was my maid of honor (how do you pick between your two favorite sisters? Note, they're my ONLY two sisters. LOL), and they had been wigging out about having to get up and make a speech. But when they got up there, they did a MARVELOUS job. They told a little story about me when I was a little kid about how Sis shoved me out of our house naked and then took a picture of it. Then, they talked a bit about our various adventures as sisters and how they were glad J would now get to be a part of our goofy randomness. And then they said, "She could have been a stripper (they harkened back to the naked picture), but she ended up going into the ministry, which is good for you! So may your marriage always be filled with love, laughter, and wasabi surprise!" (or something like that).

What's Wasabi Surprise, you ask? Well, earlier in the week, Sis, YS, J, and I went to a sushi place in Peoria and while eating, at one point, I stopped, and got red faced and teary eyed and went, "WHAT WAS THAT?!" It turns out, the sushi chefs put some wasabi in between the fish and the rice bed. Since I always dip my sushi in a soy sauce/wasabi mix, the extra was a bit excess (although still delicious!). We all got a good kick out of it. I was so impressed with the speech they gave. It was well thought out, not embarassing, and very heartfelt. Muchos gracias, sistas!

J's best man did a pretty nice job too, but since my sisters and I have a special bond, I just have to give them mad props for theirs. :)

Then, J and I got up. We thanked the people for coming, which I thought was the purpose of our getting up. However, all of a sudden, J said some things and I realized I was in for a surprise! He had worked with another good friend of ours and had worked out a way to surprise me by singing one of my favorite songs! J burst out into singing Michael Buble's version of "Moondance." He changed a few slight adjectives and added some personal touch to the song. J has a great singing voice and I was surprised. He did a great job, and I am so fortunate to be married to such a caring guy! The little schpiel I gave afterward wasn't nearly as cool as that, but I hope I was able to convey my gratitude to the people for coming, as well as my thanksgiving for being so blessed by love. It was great.

And afterwards, we danced and talked, and the night progressed. J's brother, at one point, ended up giving a long, drawn out, drunken speech trying to embarass J. And thankfully, the DJ and one of J's groomsmen cut him off in a relatively tactful way. Haha.

So, the night eventually ended, and we went and relaxed and giggled at the fact that we were now married! And the day is wonderful to think back on and remember. Those of you who were there, thank you! And those who weren't, know that I would have invited EVERYONE if we could have. Time/budget/space constraints aren't the greatest things in the world, but if I know you, chances are, I am appreciative for who you are in my life. Thanks for being friends.

Here ends the tale of my wedding day...Well, the public part, anyway. :P

The week leading up to the wedding.

2009-07-30T00:55:00.003-05:00

Well, friends, here I sit, having now been married for TWO months! It's been an interesting couple of months, to say the least. I realize that I've not talked about the actual wedding day, so I suppose, I will get there in this post.

But first, a little bit more of the stuff that led up to the day...

Sunday, May 24, I went to church (obviously), and listened to the interim do the service and everything. YS and I had made plans to go golfing after church, so I went to her house and we set out. The day was warm and so I took off my button up to show my arms (I was wearing a shell; kind of like a tank top, but it covers more).

We golfed and laughed and had a good time while we lost our golf balls and I golfed probably the best game of my life (which isn't saying much because I am not good at the sport). When we got done, we went about, hanging out more. We had some lunch and some ice cream and laughed some more. I really love YS a lot. She's very special to me.

J came down to Illinois that day so he could stay at Sis and BiL's house as we finalized our wedding preparations. He set out from North Dakota (I decided I could tell you I'm in the state, considering I almost always tell my readers what state I'm in) after church and made it to Illinois around 3 or 4 in the morning, I believe. He had had to make several pitstops, and I believe stopped to see some of his family on the way down. I had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room waiting for him, and was very glad when he got to the house. I sent him to the spare room and I went to the basement to sleep on the couch.

So, the next morning... Sis came down to wake me up. We were supposed to go do something, but I didn't feel well and told her. So, I stayed on the couch and tried to sleep some more. Unfortunately, I started to feel like I was going to get sick, so I sat up and realized that I didn't have the strength to get up to go to the bathroom. So, I picked up the cup sitting beside the couch for a "just in case." The next thing I knew, though, I was sweating like a pig, and the cup I had been holding was now on the floor and I was slumped over. I had fainted! It was a bit odd, considering I'd not passed out in over 4 years. Since it'd been so long, I couldn't quite tell the difference between "getting sick" and fainting. So, once I woke up, I just laid back down for a while and started to feel a bit better. Sis came down again and I told her what happened and I could tell she was worried about me. But, I am convinced that I just got too much sun the day previous. After I fainted, I drank a bunch of water and then started to feel loads better.

Fast forward again... J and I went and met with the interim on Tuesday, wedding license in tow. However, we realized after we had gone to the courthouse that they had messed up and had typed my name as "Trusha." So, we talked with the interim and he asked us, "So, what are we doing on Saturday?" We were both thinking, "Don't you have anything planned!" Apparently, this man who has been ordained for more than 30 years has never performed an LBW wedding, and uses the one he wrote 36 years ago whenever he can. J and I were absolutely NOT interested in using his service because of its archaic language and because we just aren't too keen on the interim, anyway. We made an appointment to finalize our plans with the interim on Thursday, and so J and I went back to Sis and BiL's and he threw out a plea on Facebook for someone to send him an order of service from the ELW since he'd not brought his, considering he was on VACATION getting ready to get MARRIED and because he thought the pastor would know what he was doing. Oy. Thankfully, several people responded and he wrote up a service that was pretty cool, lickety split.

Another day or so passed and we went and had our marriage license fixed from "Trusha" to "Trisha." We met with the interim again and he complained that the printing was too small. Thankfully, J had brought the file on his flash drive and we made it bigger to satisfy the interim. The secretary was also in the office and she helped us print up bulletins (We are low key people). She was so helpful.

So, we get to Friday, the rehearsal day. We got there and the interim was there, J's internship supervising pastor who was also a part of the day, the groomsmen, the photographer, and my sister in law, who was one of my attendants. My two sisters, however, were a smidge late, much to the chagrin of the interim. When YS and Sis got to the church, he basically insulted them by treating them like they were children. Ugh. And then, he insulted J and me! He complained about the complicatedness of the service J had drawn up. We didn't want to get into it with the interim the day before our wedding, though, so we just let it drop. At one point, the photographer asked a question and the interim BIT his head off! J and I just looked on in horrified shock and embarrassment that this "man of the cloth" tore down another pastor-type guy (The photographer runs a church himself). J and I both apologized to the photographer, and so did Pastor M (J's internship supervisor). He took the brow beating with grace, which is probably more than I would have done.

The rehearsal, otherwise, went pretty smoothly, and we were happy to have at least ONE pastor we wanted be there. Pastor M gave us MANY excellent tips for the next day, and she did so with tact and grace. When the interim gave us "tips," he was basically scolding us. He said, "Make sure to eat tomorrow! I don't want anyone fainting. That means you, Bride." He also made some disparaging comments about my sunburn, which was fading from the previous Sunday. He was just not pleasant.

After rehearsal, we went to eat at the restaurant where I worked for almost ten years. I had called them the week before to make sure that they were still willing to do the dinner for us because the male boss, G, died on May 2nd, unexpectedly. I had meant to blog about that, but I don't think I ever did. I heard that he died, and so I went back to Illinois from SeminaryTown to the funeral and things. It was very sad to lose G, a man who had loved me and who I had looked upon a bit like a father for so long. I had seen him two weeks prior to his death because YS and I, on a spontaneous hang out night, went over to Restaurant to eat. I talked with him for a while and then went to talk with the female boss who told me he was going in for a test in two weeks to see about some symptoms he had been having. Having seen him so recently and hearing about his potential health issues made the blow a little less severe, but I still grieved for G. I knew that G's wife would still be grieving for him, and so when I called the week before the wedding to make sure they were still willing to have such a party (G did a lot of the prep work for parties), I was a little surprised to hear P (the female boss) say, "You bet. You're the reason we're staying open."

So, the night of the rehearsal, we were seated in the banquet room and were served wonderfully by a couple of the waitresses. We ate delicious food and had a good time. After the meal, Sis and I were talking to P. She then told us that Sunday the 31st would be there last day open. This came as shocking news, but more in the sense of "I can't believe it because I worked here for so long," not in the "Why is she closing the place" sense. After all, her husband, her partner in the business had died recently and she had always talked about getting rid of the place. Odd news to hear the night before your wedding, but understandable. She deserves some peace, and I can't imagine going to work in the place you had opened and operated with your husband of 25+ years after his death. She seemed at peace with her decision, so we wished her well and after a few more moments of talking, we left.

Anyway, this has been another long post, so I will talk about the actual wedding next time, perhaps. Have a delightful day.

Now that I've lost all my readers...

2009-06-19T16:21:00.002-05:00

Wow, it has been TOO long since posting something. Yikes.

Well, I've been a little bit busy, so I hope any of my readers who stumble back here can find it in their hearts to forgive me. Ha.

Most of the people who read my blog know me in real life, so they know what's been going on. I finished the semester strong at seminary. I got credit for all my classes, so that is very good! Our last day was mid-May, but that didn't mean that I was suddenly free and clear to do nothing!

After graduation Sunday, which I attended b/c some of the people I started with were graduating (The M.A. program generally takes 2 years whereas the M.Div program generally takes about 4). It was a good day, and one of congratulations and "see ya laters."

That weekend, I also spent much of my time packing up my stuff to move! After a person finishes their "Middler" (2nd) year at seminary, they generally go off on internship. Most of you have heard about my internship dilemma, what with them not being able to find me a place as quickly as my classmates. Well, they found me a place where I wanted to be!!! I'm excited about this, to say the least. So, I packed up all my stuff with the help of one of my very good friends, with plans to move it to the state to which I am assigned via a U-haul truck. I planned to drive the U-haul and my friend was going to follow me in my car.

Well, the morning of U-haul renting didn't go exactly as planned. I had wanted to pick it up on Sunday morning before church, that way we could load it up and then head out bright and early on Monday morning. That way, by the time I got to the place that would become my new home, there would be people there to help unload us. However, I don't have a "real" credit card b/c I didn't use it enough and the company cancelled it. So, I have a debit/credit card that I use. However, those of you familiar with debit/credit cards will know that there is often a smaller type limit on them. Fortunately, or so I thought, I thought about that beforehand and called the bank to tell them to up my limit because I was moving. They did so, but said that they could only up the limit by pin protecting it. I didn't think that'd be a problem, so thanked them and continued planning.

Well, it was a problem! When I got to the U-haul place on Sunday morning, I went through the whole process with the gentleman behind the desk. However, my card was declined and they didn't have a "pin" option, so I was out of luck right then. So, he told me that I would need to go get cash for the rental, plus a $100 dollar deposit. Well, by this time, I was running late for church and because two of my other friends had driven me down there, I realized it probably wasn't going to work. But, the guy told me about one of the banks in SeminaryTown that was open early on Sunday morning. So, I took my friends back to their apartment so they could get ready for church, took a flying trip out to the bank, and found that indeed it was NOT open that early. So, I drove back to the seminary, and went with my two friends to church, resigned to the fact that things were not going as planned.

After church, though, I went BACK to the bank, talked with the teller, and then withdrew the money out of my checking account from an ATM, which was very odd. It's not often that I hold that kind of money in my two hands. So, I locked it up back at home and went about my day.

The next day, then, another friend took me down to the U-haul place again. This time, we did the whole procedure and he asked for the cash (but it was a different guy who didn't ask for the deposit $100). So, I reached into my pocket (that I had been guarding VERY closely) and pulled out this big chunk o' money and I counted out the fee to the guy. He told me that my 10 foot truck had been taken by someone else the day before, but that they would give me the 14 foot truck at no extra charge. He gave me the keys, told me which one I was to take, and adjusted my sideview mirror for me before sending me on my way.

My friend later said, "I've never actually see someone just randomly pull $1000 bucks out of their pocket like that." Ha. Stick with me; I'm pretty weird.

Anyway, so I got into this truck and momentarily thought, "Oh crap." There are NO rearview mirrors in a U-haul like that, and there are no windows behind you to see out. Instead, you rely solely on your sideview mirrors. Let me tell you...I use my rearview mirror A LOT when driving in my car, so I was a bit intimidated. And, I had to REVERSE out of the parking lot. Not a good first impression, especially since the truck I now had was a good deal larger than what I wanted. But, I managed to reverse out without killing anyone or doing catastrophic damage to anything. I drove up to the seminary and some friends and I loaded up about HALF of the freaking truck (I wouldn't have needed it except I was taking my bed and my still-in-the-box computer desk that YS and YSB [Younger sister and younger sister's boyfriend] had brought me the week before). So many people walked by and said, "You have a lot more space to fill!" I said, "This truck is WAY bigger than the one I asked/paid for." Oy.

So, we loaded the truck and set off on the trip. I got more comfortable with only having sideview mirrors, and I gave myself plenty of time for everything. Also, I planned us to go a less travelled route instead of through a major metropolitan area that generally shaves about an hour off in time, but which the thought of driving a 14 foot truck through scared the living daylights out of me. So, we drove and drove and drove... Through construction areas, through "no services" signs on the exit ramps, and through slight traffic. We stopped many times for food, gas, and because my friend who was following me has a weaker bladder than I have (not that I blame her... Most people have a weaker bladder than I have). So, what I can drive (in my car) in about 10 hours and 26 minutes (I timed it once), took about 14 hours, give or take, because of that HUGE truck and because I took the "other" route. But, we got there safely, which is the main thing.

When we got to town, we went directly to J's house. Friend and I were incredibly tired by this point and asked if it'd be okay if we could unload the truck tomorrow. He said that'd be fine, so Friend and I went to the motel in town and I rented us a room. We pretty much immediately went to sleep (I was too tired to even take off my clothes). We had told J we'd be there around 8:30 or 9:00 to unload the truck, but when my alarm went off, I was like, "nooooooooo!!!!" so, I texted him and asked if we could come a bit later. J said that'd be fine; get there when you can.

So, we woke up a bit later, got cleaned up and went over to the house. We walked in the garage (only visitors actually come to the front door) and I saw my futon frame in the garage. I said, "Oh, look, he unloaded the futon frame." Friend said, "Yeah, but he had to unload lots of OTHER stuff to GET to the futon frame!" (I didn't know because she was the one who put all the stuff in the truck; I just carried it out). So, we went out to the truck, opened the back, and saw that J had single-handedly unloaded all of my stuff and had taken it either into the house or the garage. He is awesome! I knew there was a reason I was engaged to him! Haha. J/k, there are LOTS more reasons than that...

So, we hung out pretty much all day and then left town quite a bit later than we'd initially planned. We drove all night, but this time, went back the way that would save us an hour. I drove about half the way, and Friend drove the other half. When we got back to SeminaryTown, Friend slammed on the brakes because the light turned red. We looked over and saw this guy in the left turn lane and he was STARING at us; maybe because we were laughing, maybe because we're a couple of raging hotties, I don't know. But, we kept laughing, and then I noticed that he KEPT staring at us, and then he blew through the light and turned left. Weird, but whatever.

So, we got back to the seminary, and because I'd already given up my keys to the office and was officially moved out (I cleaned like a bad mamma-jamma!)I didn't really have a place to sleep a little bit more restfully before heading to Illinois. But, I went down to the recreation room that is rarely used, shut the door, and slept on one of the couches in there. At one point, the housekeeping lady opened the door, saw me sleeping, and then left again. She said later that she was just curious why the door was shut.

So, all of a sudden, I was jolted out of my slumber by the FIRE ALARM!!! I was liek "What the heck is going on?" So, I zombied my way upstairs and saw people around who said that it was not really a fire, but probably some cleaning agent or paint or something that got too near the detector. They managed to shut the alarm off before the fire department came (which is good, considering we had about 10 fire alarms this past year), and I found myself chatting with some folks. It was getting late in the morning, so I said goodbye to some people and went to Sis and BiL's house to finish planning for the wedding.

And because this post has been exceedingly long, I will talk more about life after I moved all my stuff later. I hope you are enjoying your days, and that you're staying dry.

Pre-Easter Visit

2009-04-18T01:44:00.003-05:00

A few weeks ago, the pastor at my home church, (whom I shall call Pastor S.) emailed and asked me if I would be the Assisting Minister on Easter morning. Since he accepted a new call in a land far, far, away, Easter was planned to be his last Sunday at our church. I was pleased to have been asked, and so I said yes.

A little while after that, I emailed him to talk about figuring out my role in the service. He emailed back and it came to pass that we decided to get together on the Saturday before Easter, go visit Ma, have me look through some books he didn't want to take with him to his new call, and talk about our different roles in the liturgy.

Saturday rolled around and I met Pastor S. at the church. We headed on over to the Supermax to see Ma. When we got there, I pushed all the codes to get us into the unit, and then led Pastor S. to her room (he has been there before, but maybe hasn't been to her room. I don't know). We walked toward her room, and she was on her roommate's side, looking at something. She seemed happy to see Pastor S. but kind of ambivalent about seeing me. I don't know.

We sat down and talked for a little while. Pastor S. tried to get her to talk about different things, but she really wasn't making much sense. I have talked before about how she is losing her ability to string together verbs, adjectives, and nouns to make coherent sentences. I don't know if perhaps I didn't hear her, but it sounded like she made up words a couple of times, too. But, she was still smiling and talkative, so that was good.

After a while, Pastor S. said that he wanted to tell Ma a story. So, he started reading the Easter Gospel lesson. Pastor S. read it very slow at the beginning, and after each sentence, Ma would say, "Okay. Mm-hmm." She was being an "attentive listener." Pastor then talked with Mom about things that make her worried, scared, or troubled, as a sort of "sermon," considering the Easter text dealt with the fear the women had that first Easter morning.

Then, Pastor S. got out communion supplies, did the Words of Institution, and said, "Let's pray the Lord's Prayer."

We bowed our heads and started praying. And then, much to my surprise, Ma prayed, too. I heard her saying the actual words, and I stopped praying, and kind of looked at her, and couldn't start praying again because I was about to start bawling. So, I looked at the ceiling to keep from crying, and I listened to my mom, who rarely says anything that makes much sense, recite the entire Lord's Prayer. Then, Ma, Pastor S., and I all took communion together. This activity makes me appreciate all the more the idea of the "communion of saints," because it unites Christians from every time and place together in our common bond with Christ Jesus. I haven't communed with my mom in almost two years, and it was nice to do so again.

After communion, Pastor S. said to Ma, "I'm not going to be coming here anymore, Ma'sName. Someone new is going to come because I'm moving to Wisconsin." Ma's reply was a chipper, "Okay!" I'm glad that she's not saddened by it because I think I'm sad enough for the both of us.

A little while later, Pastor S. and I decided it was time to go. Ma had referred to me in the third person earlier in the visit, and so I'm not 100% sure she knew it was me there visiting along with Pastor S. We all stood up, and I gave her a big hug and told her I loved her. Pastor S. gave her a hug goodbye, as well, when all of a sudden, she turned to him and said, "Pastor, how are your two boys?" We both looked at her, and Pastor S. mentioned a little about what they're doing now, and then we walked quickly out of her room. I turned back and saw that she had already distracted herself with something. I pushed the keys to get out, and we walked down the hall. Pastor S. said, "That's the first time since she's been in here that she said the entire Lord's Prayer. I was a bit amazed, myself. It's odd what sticks and what doesn't stick, eh?

That was the end of our visit with my mom. I'm grateful that I got to be present when he said goodbye to her; to hear her say the Lord's Prayer; and to commune with her for what I suspect might be the last time. The visit was a good, if not sad, one, but I'm grateful for glimpses into who she "used" to be. I love Ma. I miss her a lot, too, though. And yet I remember, always remember, that she is loved.

Chapel!

2009-04-16T00:42:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, I went to chapel. I often don't go on Mondays and Tuesdays, but because we celebrate Holy Communion on Wednesdays, I try to go faithfully on those days. I was also asked to serve as a communion assistant, and so that meant I absolutely HAD to go.

Boy, am I glad I did!

The Dean of the Chapel, the seminary President, and a junior (first year student) led worship. We were slated to have two babies baptized here, as well. The President preached a sermon that was pretty good, but that was not the part that rocked my face off.

The Dean of the Chapel went toward the entrance to the chapel where our font is. The font is a huge fishbowl looking thing on a wooden stand. The parents, babies, their siblings, and the sponsors all gathered back there. The Dean did the liturgy portion of praying and everything, and as I looked back, I saw the babies, and that they were wrapped in fluffy white towel/blanket type things. Then, I thought, "Those are naked little babies. They must be dipping them!"

Well, sure enough, the first baby was brought out of the blanket, and her dad dipped her (legs first) into the font. Then the Dean cupped his hands and baptized the baby in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. I was a little surprised at HOW MUCH water he poured over the baby. I thought, "Holy Cow, you're going to drown that baby!"

The same thing happened for the second little baby girl. Dip, pour, and a wee bit of crying. AND ALL THAT WATER splashed on the baby's head!

But then, I remembered that baptism IS a drowning of our sins and our old self! Wow!

That was awesome enough, but the thing that REALLY got me, was that right as each baby was brought out of the water and re-wrapped in the towel/blanket, the piano started up and the whole assembly started singing, "Halle, Halle, Halle-LUUUU-JAH! Halle, Halle, Haelle-LUUUU-Jah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!"

The singing just made me think that we on earth are echoing even just a little bit of what God and the heavenly host are singing at a new little person being clothed in Christ! How awesome!

Baptisms just do something for me anyway, but today's were two of THE most awesome baptisms I've ever seen. I think I might have something to consider doing when I eventually get to baptize people. :) Awesome.

Still Waiting

2009-04-04T23:35:00.002-05:00

Well, dear readers, it's been almost a month since my last post. I've been bad about keeping this blog updated. Sincerest apologies.

There is still no real word on an internship site for me. They're working on it and are going to be talking with people who can (maybe) make it happen, so that's a plus. I'll hear something (good, bad, or ugly) later this week. We'll see.

On another front, I am getting married NEXT MONTH! It seems really crazy, but I am incredibly excited. J is a wonderful man and I can't wait until we are married. I really can't.

The wedding plans are coming along. Invitations should go out this coming week. We're going low key and "green" (yeah, that's it, all for the environment), so we're not having people mail RSVP cards back to us. Rather, the options are phone or email because we set up an email account specifically for RSVPs.

The big snafu is that my long-time pastor has accepted a call to another church. His last day is Easter Sunday and the bishop has said that he cannot come back to do the wedding. When Pastor told me that he was leaving, I was incredibly sad, not just because of the wedding, but because he's been the only pastor I've ever had. I do have a church out here at Seminary, but it's not quite the same. There are multiple layers to WHY I feel the way I do about this, but I don't want to bore you all with them. I think it suffices to say that I have loved and appreciated his presence in my life for the past thirteen years, and he will be deeply missed.

Other than that, things are coming along. School is school. Keeps me pretty busy, but not too busy. Maybe it's because I'm a procrastinator and so only am really busy when I'm working under a deadline. Who knows?

And that's about it. Sorry that there's not been anything "deep" lately. Maybe I'll work on that, maybe not. I don't know. I hope things are going well for all of you. Peace out.

Internship Stuff

2009-03-10T22:19:00.003-05:00

So, dear readers, tomorrow is the day that most of my classmates find out where they will be going to live for the next year. The climate around the seminary has been relatively subdued, but there is still some anxiety surrounding this event. It's a natural thing to want to know such a big thing and not have to keep speculating about the unknown.

I've been very chill about the whole thing, for a variety of reasons, I think. First off, since I am getting married in May, I restricted myself for internship so that I can (hopefully) live with my soon to be husband. We are going to live in one of the more northern states in the Midwest. I'm excited about this. Another reason I've been pretty laid back is because the staff person kind of "in charge" of this process told me that I shouldn't worry because it will happen. I've taken her exhortation to heart, for the most part.

Finally, I have been fairly relaxed because this same woman told me that I might not get my assignment on the same day (tomorrow) as everyone else because it might take a little bit longer to find me a site in my restriction area. My logic tells me not to freak out beforehand because there is no 'definite' date for me to come to the end of any anxiety I might be feeling. That being said, I don't want to "agonize" for longer than the other people.

I received word on Monday that the internship site they had for me fell through, and so I'm a little bummed that I don't get my assignment on the same day as my classmates, but I had been warned about this, so it comes as really no big surprise. Obviously I feel a little disappointment, but nothing overwhelming.

What I find myself surprised about at this juncture is a little bit of anger I am feeling; not at the process or any of the people involved in ironing out all this internship stuff, but anger about so many people knocking the state to which I hope to go. Granted, it's not a place that most people DO want to go. But the thing that gets me is my own complex with people thinking I am stupid. I find myself wondering, "Do people think I'm stupid/crazy/less than because I WANT to go where they don't want to go?" And even if they do, that shouldn't matter, but like I said, it's my issue about thinking people think I am dumb. I just wish people would stop knocking my future home state.

The other thing is, though, that I know people aren't knocking me or the state, but they are just expressing their own desire to not go there, which is fine. Different strokes for different folks and all. But at the same time, people have a tendency to hear what they have been conditioned to hear (to a certain extent) and right now, I am hearing their desire to go elsewhere as a personal knock to me. Which is totally irrational, I know. I really know. But there are going to be people with complexes and with irrational ideas and fears in their congregations, and I find myself wondering about this.

What it all really boils down to is that I need to quit feeling so dumb. I'm not dumb. Intellectually, I know that. It's just a struggle, I suppose, that I will have to find a way to achieve over.

Sorry for the rambling, whiny-ness of this post. But whatev.

Wow/Duh moment of the Day!

2009-03-03T23:47:00.002-06:00

I'm in a class this semester that focuses on preaching (imagine that; a class that helps us become better at the most public part of our ministry). Anyway, for this class, we have a rotation of preaching and each of us goes about every three weeks. My first turn is this coming Thursday. For our preparation, we are supposed to do some work in the original language; either Greek or Hebrew, depending upon what text you have. My text for Thursday is Colossians 1:15-28. We don't have to do exegesis on the WHOLE pericope, but only on the parts we might find particularly interesting. I found that verses 24-28 piqued my interest, and so started working on them in the Greek. I wasn't even looking at the preposition "en," but under the "cairo" word, the "en" came into play. "en" traditionally means, "in." So, the NRSV translates this clause as, "I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake..."

Seriously? I'm REJOICING IN my sufferings? Are you kidding me? Who rejoices in suffering? Yeah, it can help link us to Christ and his suffering on the cross, but if you ask me, suffering sucks.

Anyway, as I was looking at the verbs, I noticed that the big Greek Lexicon (BDAG) talks about how this can mean, "I am now rejoicing IN THE MIDST OF my sufferings."

WOW! What a difference! I can't believe I never saw that before!

Rejoicing in the midst of sufferings still honors the pain and broken places that suffering is. It doesn't try to say, "I'm okay. I have broad shoulders, I can take it." Instead, to me, at least, this slight change seems to convey that I can rejoice in the midst of sufferings, but I don't have to appear to be a huge masochist who enjoys the pain of life! Wow. Duh! Greek isn't so bad after all! (This I can say because I translated five Greek verses in thirty-eight minutes compared with the EIGHT HOURS I spent translating ten Hebrew verses the other day).

What do you think about this? Had you thought about this In/In the midst of thing before? I think I've got a good chunk of my sermon figured out simply by this one little word. It's AMAZING! Maybe I'm a little too enthusiastic right now, but whatever. See you all later.

P.S. I called the senator's office today and spoke my piece on the Dementia Care Reform. Just wanted you to know I practiced what I preached.

ACTION ALERT!!!

2009-03-03T03:02:00.003-06:00

Hello Dear Readers. Today, March 3, 2009 is a "call in day" for people to notify their senators about desired changes in health care reform. I invite you to read and follow the action involved in this action alert I was sent from the Alzheimer's Association. It will only take a few minutes, but please know that your VOICES are valuable!

Action Alert!

what:
Nationwide Alzheimer Advocate call-in to encourage Senate to address long-term care in health care reform. Call toll free: 1-866-281-7219

when:
On March 3, 2009 8:30am - 4:30 pm Eastern

On March 4, the US Senate Special Aging Committee is hosting a hearing on long-term care services. In advance of the hearing, we need to send a message to the Senate about the importance of including long-term care services in health care reform.

Call 1-866-281-7219 on March 3.

Tell your Senator:

1. I am calling to tell the Senator to make sure long-term care services and supports are included in health care reform legislation.

2. The cost of long-term care is unaffordable for many families dealing with Alzheimer's disease.

3. I look forward to seeing the Senator demonstrate leadership on this issue.

Call Instructions:

Call 1-866-281-7219.
The operator will tell you to name your state.
You will be connected directly to one of your US Senators. (The call line is set up to randomly select a Senator for you.)
You do not need to call again to reach your other Senator. One call is enough to make our voices heard loud and clear.

Thank you!
As an advocate, your voice makes a difference for our lawmakers.

Questions?
Email: advocate@alz.org

Don't Forget:
Forward this message to family and friends

Background
President Obama has clearly stated that health care reform is a priority for this year. Long-term care services and supports are an essential part of health care reform.

The Senate Special Committee on Aging is holding a hearing on long-term care services on Mar. 4. The Alzheimer's Association is one of many advocacy groups participating in a national call-in day on March 3 to encourage Senators to include long-term care services and supports in health care reform.

The nation lacks a comprehensive national public-private system for financing and delivering long-term care services and supports for individuals with Alzheimer's. We want to see people with Alzheimer's get the support they need. Including long-term care services in health care reform will help improve the qulaity of health care for all Americans and help sustain safety net programs like Medicaid.

It's raining!

2009-02-09T15:39:00.002-06:00

Well friends, it is raining outside! I like rain a lot of the time; especially the first rainstorm of the year. It's February 9, and it's raining hard! No snow, no sleet; just rain! I like it. Most of the snow on the ground is gone, and we can see the brown, brown grass. I have no illusions that Spring is here, but it's so nice to have this little respite. Even if the grass is brown, it holds promise of green. I'm excited.

Other than that, I've decided to tell a "funny" story for Preaching. I think it's funny, anyway. I'm trying to "perfect" it and make sure it fits in the time allowed for each of us. Wee.

Other than that, it's week two of the semester. I've done a good portion of the reading, so I'm impressed with myself. Haha. I'm trying... I really am.

Anyway, I'm contemplating a nap, so I'll be off for now. Enjoy the rain (those of you experiencing it).

New Beginnings

2009-02-07T19:46:00.003-06:00

The first week of the new semester has come and gone. We here at Seminary started our regular semester of class on Monday, and ended the week on Thursday. I am taking 15 credit hours this semester; a common course load. I only have one class on Wednesdays, but I'm thinking this will help me to stay on top of my coursework. I want to do much more of the reading this semester than I've done in semesters past.

I'm already excited about one of our assignments for Preaching class. We have to tell a story about ourself that lasts about four or five minutes. I love telling stories and enjoy finding ways to make the stories more interesting and engaging for the hearers. My main problem with this assignment is trying to figure out what kind of story I want to tell. Do I want to be my usual funny self (I really AM a funny person, not that you can tell much by reading this blog. I admit, it's a fairly depressing place), or do I want to be sappy, or do I want to reveal a bit of myself that most of my classmates don't know about? (At least I don't THINK they know about). Being vulnerable in face to face situations is often very difficult to me, but I'm realizing that some of the crud I've had to live through can be seen as a gift to others who might be now, or in the future having to deal with similar things. How am I going to be able to help them if they have no idea that I can be a resource for them? But, at the same time, how do I get myself to a place where I am comfortable being vulnerable in a group of classmates? For the most part, I like all my classmates, but that doesn't mean that I want all of them to know about this, that, or the other thing going on. So, I'm just trying to decide where I want to take them in my storytelling. Once deciding on that, it will be much easier to decide what story I want to tell.

Anyway, other than that... I'm just chilling. I need to be reading for class and or working on a sermon for next week. I'm preaching at my home church next Sunday, and another neighboring church the Sunday after that. I hope things with you are well.

Reconciling in Christ

2009-02-04T14:44:00.004-06:00

I am trying to figure this out, so bear with me. But, I'd like to become a "Reconciling Christian Blogger." It's a webring that emphasizes that the Kingdom of God includes all of God's children, regardless of race, age, class, gender, ability or sexual orientation; and who long for the day when all of God's children - lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, straight - are fully welcome around the Table of the Lord. I believe this, and I hope that our voices joined together will make it a reality.

Reconciling Christian Bloggers
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My Name is Lisa

2009-01-25T17:20:00.003-06:00

Okay, so MY name isn't Lisa; it's Trish. I saw this video about a year ago or so, and just now found it again through a link on www.alz.org. It is a video about a thirteen year old young lady who is living with her mother with dementia. It is well worth the six or so minutes it takes to watch. I think that being twenty-six years old and having a parent with dementia is hard; I can't IMAGINE being thirteen and having to see it. It gives a bit to think about, what with the reversal of roles, and the frustration and pain that comes from having a loved one with this horrible disease. Again I will say, it is WELL worth watching.

Church Conflict (Class; not life!)

2009-01-23T15:51:00.002-06:00

I mentioned before that I am taking "Church Conflict: From Contention to Collaboration" for J-term. I maintain that it is an interesting class, and one that I trust will be deeply valuable for the ministry of all who are taking it.

For this class, we were asked to think up an image or idea on the first day that explains how we think of conflict. Everyone shared their idea, and they were great. I would like to share my "image" of conflict:

Conflict seems like a football game in January. There are people around who are screaming, people who are just sitting there watching, and people who have laryngitis and can't speak at all. But, even the person with laryngitis leaves a mark because their breath can be seen in the cold air. Additionally, some people are there because they LOVE football, and some people are there because they love someone who is playing. There are also coaches, referees, cheerleaders, hecklers, and everyone else. That is one image in my mind of what conflict is like.

Some of the other images were likened to elastic that stretches out, a fire that consumes, groups with a pile of weapons and ammunition, and a circle, to name a few. They were all very interesting. Even the ones I do not necessarily "get" are interesting because it helps me see more how the person thinks. I enjoyed sharing that time.

At the end of the first day, we were given an "assignment," and that was to go home and think about an image or idea for "collaboration." When class met back the next day, we went around the room again and we all "spoke ourselves present" by sharing our image. Again, I was incredibly interested to hear these ideas that ranged from a team working together, to the weapon piles being turned from being pointed at people to being turned at an issue that needed addressing. I would also like to share my "image" of collaboration:

Collaboration is like a smile. There are many things needed to smile. A person needs to be able to feel an emotional response like joy, happiness, contentment, etc in order to feel like smiling. There are people in the world too depressed to smile. Also, there needs to be the cognitive capacity to smile. There are people in the world with dementia or brain injuries who no longer know how to smile, or who have brains who don't register emotions. Their brains and muscles are not collaborating to bring a smile to their faces. And there are people who have had certain types of stroke who cannot smile because their brains won't tell their muscles what to do. Smiling takes a lot of collaboration. And, a smile is often contagious. Smile at someone else and see them smile back. Similarly, when we go forth ready, willing, and able to collaborate, others are likely to respond in like fashion.

We have also shared our personal histories with conflict. These stories are often touching, and most certainly deserving of respect. People come from different places regarding conflict. Many of these places are still hurting and are scarred over. But, scar tissue is a part of the learning process. It often protects us from new wounds in the same place. Christ has his own scar tissue in his hands stretched out to embrace all of humanity. These places of past pain remind us that Christ is with us, even in the pain, messiness, and grief of everyday life. Scars help us remember that we too, can work to embrace others.

Some thoughts

2009-01-21T18:49:00.003-06:00

Today is Ma's birthday. She is 69 years old. I wrote a letter "to" her, but will not be sending it to her because I'm not so sure she can read anymore, and because it's also very long; longer than her attention span these days.

All my siblings and their significant others (except Oldest Brother and his family) and I went to celebrate with her at the SuperMax last Saturday. We spent about an hour or so with her. She asked BiL who he was, and she called Howard by my name once. I can't believe how much I hate dementia.

My J-term class is going on right now. It started today. The class is called, "Church Conflict: From Contention to Collaboration." It seems interesting, and I've been continuing to work on my personal goal of talking more in class. Each time I spoke up, the professor made some sort of remark about how well I put whatever I said. I wonder if it's because she somehow knows about my goal to talk more... Then again, sometimes I do actually say decently intelligent remarks.

Other than that, right now, I am so incredibly tired that I can't even hardly see straight. I guess I've had an emotionally exhausting couple of days. My childhood home is on the market, and someone looked at the house this past weekend and really likes it. I am thinking about all the things that will need to be done if he buys it. I'm thinking about what that will mean if this person buys it. And I can't help but think I'm overreacting because it's not like I even want the house to stay in the family. There is just a lot of symbolism behind a home you lived in for 24 years, especially through all the things my family has been through. I'm tired. I wish, that just for a little while, things in my family could be like they are in other "normal" families. But in saying that, I start to thinking that I am being a big whiner, and that this is what my life and my family's life is like right now. Put on the big girl underpants and deal with it already.

I think I'm going to go to bed so that I can wake up rested and a bit more chipper in the morning. I don't even care that it's only 7:00 p.m. Goodnight.

"Peace Like a River"

2009-01-12T23:45:00.002-06:00

The book, "Peace Like a River" has graced my bedside table for a couple of weeks now, and I just finished it tonight. I enjoyed reading this book, not only for its story, but also because I've been to several of the places in which the book is set. It's set in Minnesota and North Dakota, and those states being what they are to me, I am excited to read about them and about places in the states I've at least driven by.

Anyway, I enjoyed the book for the most part, but it really got me thinking about the hymn, "When Peace Like a River." It goes,

"When peace like a river attendeth my way,
when sorrows like sea billows roll,
whatever my lot
thou hast taught me to say
it is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet
though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control
That Christ hath regarded
my helpless estate
and hath shed his own blood
for my soul.

He lives, oh the bliss
of this glorious thought
my sin not in part but the whole
is nailed to the cross
and I bear it no more
praise the Lord, praise the Lord
Oh my soul!

And, Lord, haste the day
when our faith shall be sight,
the clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
the trumpet shall sound
and the Lord shall descend;
Even so it is well
with my soul."*

The book is set in the 1960s and deals with a father, his two sons, and his daughter. The oldest son, Davy, who is 16 at the beginning, ends up shooting two local bullies (who were bullies to the extreme). The other son, Reuben, is 11, and the sister,Swede, is 9. Anyway, along goes the book, and Davy escapes jail before sentencing after his trial. So, the family goes in search for him, all the while contending with police, FBI people, and others who come across their paths, including a shady character or two.

Life is not easy for them, but they have love and faith. The father, especially, is a faithful man who seems to even have performed some miracles; though he himself would never say such a thing.

The book has ups and downs, but it got me to thinking about grief. I placed myself in the book, and found out that I did not like a part of it. I identified with one of the characters a bit more deeply because we share an experience that was not the EXACT same, but aspects of it were very similar.

My thoughts over one occurrence in the book brought up grief from long ago. It's not insurmountable or even all that troubling; it just is. I got to thinking about how I am of the school of thought that people never "get over" their grief. It ebbs and flows with new grief tapping in to old grief, all the while bringing it back to the surface. Professionals say that it takes over a year for life to be "normal" again after the loss of one who is close. I agree, and on that note, find it odd that society seems to think that people who have suffered the death of a loved one need to "get over it" in a matter of weeks. I would like to think that deep down, they know this is not the case, but I would like to see grace being extended in more tangible ways regarding grief.

Anyway, so back to the hymn... The first two verses speak of trials and Satan's coming against people, but that Jesus is present with us. I like these words. They don't say, "Get over it." To me, they say, "Sometimes, life is going to suck, but Christ 'regards!!!' us even in the murkiness of it all." To me, these words also say that we can be in the thickest grief, or even depression, and have faith in Christ's never-failing presence. That doesn't make things all better, but it can be a comforting truth. After all, the verses don't speak of what WE have done, but instead of what Christ has done for us. WE don't have to be Sunshine Susanna's in order to be loved, forgiven, or worthwhile. It is GOD IN CHRIST who has come to and for us; stipulating nothing, but rather coming and giving freely.

And what of this "peace like a river?" Rivers can be peaceful, but they can also be violent and dangerous. But they are still rivers. Life is like a river, in many regards. Sometimes it is wide and calm, while other times it seems too narrow with rocks just below the surface. But in hope, may we trust that Christ is in the boat with us, suffers the same tosses that we do, and remains present regardless.

*Text: Horatio G. Spafford
*Tune: Philip P. Bliss

My Thoughts on "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button."

2009-01-10T01:09:00.002-06:00

Don't read this post if you don't want the plot for "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" spoiled for you.

YS and I went out tonight because the two of us don't get to hang out together as often as we'd like. I met her at her house this afternoon so we could decide what to do. We decided to go to dinner and then go see, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button."

YS and I went to eat at a Chinese buffet that also serves sushi. I gave J a sushi kit for Christmas and he made some the other day. I saw the pictures of it and got a hankering for some sushi, so YS and I went to a place that has it.

The movie, though, is what I want to talk about.

The story begins in the early 1900s and is about a man who is born an old, old man who ages backwards. Sure, he comes out all small like a baby, but he has cataracts, arthritis, and a host of other "old people" maladies, but he looks old, even. His mother dies shortly after giving birth, and his father is so upset by his new son's appearance and her death that he takes the baby with the intention of throwing it into Lake Ponchartrain. Thankfully, a police officer hears the babies cries and the father runs off and puts the baby, with a little bit of money, on the steps outside of a nursing home. A black woman who works there takes him in, because she can't have her own children. She says that her sister had the baby, and didn't want him because he was white. So, she took him in. He fit in well his early years because as he grew up, he looked like a very old man. He was confined to a wheelchair and had glasses and the like. However, he acted like a little boy. He was innocent and didn't know about life and the like. He even made friends with a granddaughter of one of the patients at the nursing home.

As he continued to get older, his appearance continued to get younger. And he realized what was happening. In so realizing, he found out that as he got younger, those around him got older. He had to experience the death of people close to him who lived in the nursing home. "Normal" little children don't have to deal with this grief because most kids do not look to be in their 80s and they don't live in nursing homes. He learned at a young age what grief is.

When he looked 70 something, he began working on a tugboat. He wrote to his little friend from the many ports in which he found himself. Eventually, he met a woman and had an affair with her. It didn't last long, but he had fallen in love. When she left, he was sad, but was able to get on with his life.

Benjamin eventually went back home and met up with his friend again. Her name was Daisy and she had grown to be a woman. However, he still looked 60 and she was in her twenties. The time was not right.

Life continued on for Benjamin. His appearance grew younger and his body grew stronger all the time. Finally, when he was 49, Daisy was 43 and the time was right. They fell in love and had a child of their own. They had met in the middle of their lives to make a new one. But Benjamin knew that he would continue to regress, and so told Daisy to find a real father for their little girl. After all, she "couldn't raise the both of them." So, he left one night, after having sold the things that had the most monetary value in his life. He left the money with Daisy and their little girl.

Time progressed. Life went on. Daisy didn't hear from Benjamin. Until one day, she got a call to have her come back to the nursing home where they had met. Child Protective Services had found the VERY young Benjamin wandering around. He appeared to have dementia. It was an odd thing, seeing this young boy exhibit those symptoms; very disconcerting. But, Daisy visited him every day. She calmed him when he was agitated, held him when he was sad, and was present with him, even in his confusion. And, in one of the last scenes, you see a very old looking Daisy holding the infant Benjamin Button and she says, "He looked up at me with a look that told me he knew who I was, and then closed his eyes as if to sleep." Benjamin died, a very old man who looked very young.

The thing that struck me most about the movie is that it made me think more about how we lose people in different ways. Sometimes we grow apart simply because our interests change and the common bond isn't there anymore. Sometimes that horrible thief, dementia comes and robs our loved one of any memory of us. Sometimes, a person recognizes that their presence will soon become unhealthy and so leaves. And the interesting thing, at least to me, is that often, one person does not wish to give the other one up. It simply happens, adding all the more to the grief. What love Daisy showed in caring for Benjamin, even until the end. She had loved this man intimately, and now held him as if she were his mother. How sad, and yet how reminiscent of what that vile culprit, dementia does. It takes the one we have known and reverts them so they no longer know us, and in some ways, we no longer know them.

But love is always there. Even when Benjamin did not know much about even who he was, let alone those around him, Daisy loved him. Their face to face relationship ended in the same place it started. Their lives had come full circle with HER being old and HIM being young. They had experienced many things in each of their lives, and in their lives together. They had met in the middle and shared years together, until life took them apart.

I don't really have a grand theme to tie this all together. I had many more thoughts about the movie while I was watching it, but now I am tired and need to stop blogging. I recommend the movie. I hope I didn't ruin it for anyone. Goodnight.

REPORT FAIRLY, PEOPLE!!!!!

2009-01-06T13:30:00.002-06:00

So, I was reading some news today,and I came across this article regarding Roland Burris and his battle to be sworn in as Illinois' new Senator. Roland Burris previously held the position of Illinois Attorney General. Our embattled governor, Rod Blagojevich, has tried to appoint Burris to President-Elect Barack Obama's Senate seat, a move that has been wildly unpopular since his arrest as one who tried to SELL said seat. I blogged before about Rod Blagojevich and how crooked he is, so that doesn't need to be reiterated here.

What I'm writing about today is that the race issue is surfacing with Mr. Burris' attempts at holding the senate seat. State Democrats have said that they did not think Blagojevich should even try to appoint someone in light of the charges against him. It would be a candidate that no one could trust because of the situation surrounding the appointment. For the most part, I think that is true. Democrats state that race is definitely not the issue surrounding their rejection of Burris' nomination. The article I mentioned earlier quotes Burris as saying he did not think race was the issue. What irks my bubbles is that many reporters are still playing this, despite everyone's FLAT OUT DENIAL that race is the issue. While racists often aren't forthcoming in their ideas about their prejudice, I honestly do not believe race is the issue here. What IS the issue is corruption that has plagued the state of Illinois for DECADES. What also angers me is that the article states that the reason Burris was rejected is that he doesn't have the proper credentials. He does not have the Illinois Secretary of State's signature on his papers. What I think is important, but was oh so conveniently left out of the MSN article, is that the Illinois Secretary of State is Jesse White; a black man.

I think that if reporters want to play the race card, they need to present all the facts. Jesse White seems like an honorable man. No "License for Bribe" scandals have surfaced under him, and I've not heard of any other corruption. Additionally, he supports young inner-city kids to keep them off the street. I don't know if he still does this, but he used to have the "Jesse White Tumblers," a group of inner-city Chicago kids who could come and learn gymnastics to keep them off the streets, out of gangs, and away from drugs. He seems to care about at-risk youth, and that should be commended. The point is, he has actively worked at making life BETTER for black people. To say that he is not interfering BECAUSE of race to keep a black man out of political office is a slap to the face. Mr. White does not NEED me to stick up for him, but I think that it is important to at least let my two or three readers know a few more of the facts regarding this issue.

I hope you all walk away a little more well-versed in Illinois politics. Ha. And I always thought I wasn't political.

The Polar Express

2008-12-22T20:30:00.002-06:00

I watched "The Polar Express" for the first time tonight with my nephew, Howard. The movie is a good one; butI thought it was actually kind of scary in some parts. Maybe it's me being sensitive to Howard, who himself is a very sensitive little boy. But, he didn't seem to be too bothered by the parts I was concerned he might be.

While watching the movie, I was thinking about how it can be likened to the biblical stories about the lost coin, the lost sheep, or the prodigal son. The woman swept her whole house until the coin was found. The father rejoiced when his wayward son returned. And the little boy found his heart warmed by the bell that was returned to him, which symbolized his belief in Santa Claus; his belief in the wonder of Christmas. These can all be compared to faith. How there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents!*

The Polar Express is "about" a little boy renewing his "faith" in Santa Claus. But I think that it speaks to a deeper faith; the faith that gives us a reason for Christmas at all. The bell was found, lost, and then given back to the boy. How similar to our faith that tells us that Jesus seeks us, even when we feel lost, and gives us a new identity as ones linked with Christ. The hero in the story hears the bell and continues to hear the bell even when the world around him ceases to be able. There were conflicting experiences regarding the bell. May we go forth this Christmas season hearing the sounds of faith, despite the conflicting messages that tell us otherwise. Thanks be to God!

*Luke 15:10

Prayer

2008-12-17T23:54:00.002-06:00

Lately, I've been thinking about prayer; not just the Lord's Prayer and other common prayers like, "Now I lay me." I'm thinking about how different people are perceived to have "better" or "more effective" prayers. When I was doing CPE, it seemed that some people needed an "authoritative" religious person to pray with them. Some people were content praying on their own, and some people didn't pray at all. I was also thinking about prayer because before just about every Hebrew Content and Language class, someone led us in prayer. When it was my turn to pray in Hebrew Language, I stumbled. A LOT. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a "bad" pray-er. In fact, many people tell me I'm a "good" pray-er. But, I think what I got tripped up on was that I was trying to be too verbose. A lot of times people, especially Christian leaders, think they need to pray long, elaborate, flowery languaged prayers in order for them to be heard by God. I've fallen victim to this thinking myself sometime. And in response, I've written three prayers that I think could be done anytime, anywhere, by anyone. Here they are:

Holy and Gracious God, you are with us. Help us to remember that ALWAYS. Amen

Holy and Gracious God, you know us. Help us respond to your love. Amen

Holy and Gracious God, your mercy is new every day. Open our eyes to see. Amen.

God hears us. Thanks be to God!

What will happen?

2008-12-13T17:44:00.003-06:00

I am from the great state of Illinois, so I find it slightly disturbing that we have such a bad political reputation. However, I think that it would be more fair to say that CHICAGO has a bad political reputation. That being said, Rod Blagojevich WAS elected by popular majority. Conversely, since taking office, his policy has been largely for the benefit of Chicago and surrounding areas. Considering there are approximately SIX MILLION people in Cook County (the county Chicago is in), and almost one million in DuPage (the county right next to Cook), while there are only about six million people in the REST of the state, we can see how powerful Chicago can be.*

Also, I HATE when people say things like, "Not my President," or "Not my Governor." The truth is, they are elected by popular vote. However, Blagojevich is thought to be one of the LEAST popular governors in the whoe United States. He had an unprecedented 0% vote of excellence. NO ONE in the WHOLE state thought he was doing an excellent job. Something like 4% of the people thought he was doing a "good" job. But, we can dislike a politician for EVERYTHING they stand for, but the truth is, they were elected by the majority, thus making them THE POLITICIAN for whatever office to which they were elected. I'm fairly certain that he would not be re-elected during the next election, even without this new development.

Regardless of him being the state's governor, I am glad that he has been arrested. I am not happy that he'll (hopefully) be going to prison, or at the very least, be impeached, but happy that there are days coming for the entire state of Illinois when more competent and honest leaders will take the office. I am not at all a fan of Blagojevich, not only because he doesn't represent the WHOLE state, but because he is dishonest, and he is always looking out for number 1. Public servants are supposed to work for the good of the majority, and not simply for themselves and their pocketbooks. I don't like how he was trying to cut funding for Children's Memorial Hospital. I was a patient there for 4 1/2 years. The fine doctors there diagnosed me with growth hormone deficiency and started me on treatment that allowed me to grow 16 1/2 inches in four years. I would be at LEAST a foot shorter had they not treated me. Not only do I laud them for my own very successful treatment, but also because they are a leading hospital in the nation, and I would dare to say, even the world. When we would go there, we would see license plates from across the nation, and even from different countries. Just looking around at other people while traversing to where we needed to go, I could see different skin tones and different ways of dress. I could hear different languages, accents, and dialects. Different people were patients there. A funding cut would cost not only the hospital, but also the patients. Healthcare should not be an option; it should be a right.

My main peeve about the governor is not the hospital situation, though. It's his dishonesty. Older Brother the Younger is a prison guard. He used to work at Pontiac Correctional Institute, which houses some of the most dangerous criminals in the state. It is a maximum security prison which even has a condemned unit. They don't execute people at Pontiac, but instead simply house them and then move them. That being said, there is a moratorium on the death penalty in the state of Illinois, so there haven't been any executions there for almost nine years. Governor Blagojevich wants to close down Pontiac prison to make budget cuts. With the state of prisons all over the nation, Illinois included, it is a bad idea, in my opinion to save the budget at the expense of the prisons. Prisons as it is now are overcrowded, underfunded, and understaffed. When Governor Blagojevich works to close prisons down, he works to put good, honest, hard-working men like my brother in danger. I don't like that. I also don't like how short-sighted his logic is. Pontiac is a town that thrives on business drawn in from the prison. People visiting their loved ones at the prison get gas, eat in, and buy things in Pontiac. The hundreds of people who work at Pontiac prison make their work there. With the prison gone, how many families would be uprooted or thrown into even more financial crisis? And the thing is, SO MANY prison guards campaigned, put signs in their yards, and VOTED for Blagojevich because of his promises that it is even a bigger slap to their faces now. He didn't keep his word, and it's a BIG word to break. There are so many issues surrounding the potential closure of Pontiac that I can't even touch on them all.

Anyway, I am reading and watching with interest about what will be happening with the governor's legal plight. I have hope that things will look up for our fine state, because I know the people deserve better.

For some comedic relief, check out this video clip from when Blagojevich was on the Daily Show in 2006. It's humorous.

Thus ends my pontificating.

*http://illinoisgis.ito.state.il.us/census2000/county_census.asp?ct=P0010001

A worthwhile view...

2008-11-18T14:10:00.002-06:00

My friend Ray posted this on his blog and I felt the need to share it as well with my 3 or 4 regular readers. :) Considering I am playing the "conservative church lady" in Ethics today for our sexuality presentation, I wanted to offset my "playacting" with something with which I agree. Think about it.

I've "been away."

2008-11-08T18:33:00.004-06:00

I've said it a lot recently, but I'll say it again: I haven't been blogging very regularly lately. I'm trying to better discern a healthy mix of sharing online and sharing with people face to face. But another reason I've not blogged much this past week or so is because my grandma died on October 30th. She died peacefully in her sleep at the nursing home where she had lived for the past few years. Grandma was eight days away from turning ninety-five years old. She lived a good, long, love-filled life for which I am extremely grateful, and yet I still am sad and grieve the loss.

It's an odd thing; grief. I know that Grandma is finally at rest, and I don't wish she were still alive, but I still grieve. When I moved to Seminary, I put some pictures of family members up on my refrigerator. I put two of her up. One picture was taken more than twenty years ago because Gram has her arms around YS and me. The other picture was taken just about two years ago, and shows Gram holding Howard when he was a little baby. I love those pictures because Grandma has big smiles on her face. She really loved us kids. Even when she couldn't remember exactly how we all were related, she knew that she loved us. I am also very fortunate because even though Grandma was VERY forgetful, she was still herself, even to the end. She had a lot of one line funny remarks, and was always quick with a smile. She was so special and I loved her so much.

I was reminiscing about Grandma the other day because I was thinking about when I was a kid, how Gram and I would sometimes share a birthday celebration. Her birthday was November 7th, and mine was the 10th. We would have a family dinner and open presents and have cake. And even though Grandma had almost seventy years on me, she always let me feel extra special on my birthday. But, that's who she was.

Grandma lived about a block away from me growing up. We would go out our front door and run through the church yard and be at her house. Visits to Grandma's house were normal things. Grandma ran a nursing home in the town where I lived until the mid or late sixties. Her parents had started it, and she ran it when they got too old. But, the state came in and said they needed to have an elevator and various other things that a nursing home in a town of 400 people couldn't afford, especially since my grandma and her family didn't charge people what they couldn't pay. So, the nursing home closed down after they found places for all the residents to go. Well, all the residents except for one: Donna.

I don't know what was wrong with Donna. I just remember that Grandma took her to live in her house. Donna was bed ridden and probably weighed all of seventy-five pounds. She had dark brown hair, couldn't talk, or do much of anything. She would open her mouth and go, "AHHHH AHHHH AHHH." Not in pain, but as her way of communicating. Donna's bed was in the living room (it had rails on it and couldn't fit into the other rooms, I think). When Grandma got a cat, it would get up there and lay in the bends of Donna's legs. She seemed to like it. Donna's sisters would come visit sometimes, and they were so grateful that my seventy-something year old Grandma was able to take care of her. Thankfully, back then, the doctor still made housecalls and would come to see Donna. I think that's a part of what made her living with Grandma possible.

Oh, another interesting thing to note...Grandma had two children: My dad, and my aunt Joyce. Joyce was born extremely mentally challenged. I don't think she could talk either. She could walk though, with help. I remember Grandma going in to her room and helping her walk out to play "cards" with us little ones. So, Grandma took care of Donna and Joyce (who we pronounced Joycee) at the same time, until Joyce died of a heart attack when I was four years old.

Eventually, Grandma had to ask Donna's sisters to find a new place for Donna, because Gram was getting too old to take care of someone so intensively. Donna moved away then, and I don't know what happened to her. She probably has died by now. She wasn't that old when Grandma had her, but that was still almost twenty years ago.

Grandma was a beautiful and caring woman. She gave selflessly and sacrificially to those she loved. Despite having lived through wars and rumors of wars, the Great Depression, the death of husband, and BOTH her children, a grandchild who died at birth, and countless other events, she didn't get cynical. She laughed, she joked, and she poked gentle fun. She loved her family (which was small, considering she had been an only child), and she was willing to try new things, even as she got older and older. My grandma was very "go with the flow," and yet she still managed to get things done. She was a really special lady and I am grateful for the many, MANY warm memories I have of her.

In honor and memory, I give you one of my refrigerator pictures (considering if I were to meet you on the street, you probably wouldn't know me from this picture). I give God thanks for her life, and entrust her to the tender compassion and care of Jesus Christ, who has conquered death and who has promised to be with us always, even unto the end of the age. Thanks be to God!

Knowing and Being Known

2008-11-06T17:11:00.002-06:00

It's been a long time since I've posted anything substantial, dear readers. I'm dreadfully sorry. Life has been busy. Anyway, I'm going to stop making excuses.

Several weeks ago, I went to Illinois to preach at a church near my home church, and to spend some time with my sisters, their significant others, and Howard and Sunscreen. I also decided that I needed to go and tell Ma that J and I got engaged. After worship on Sunday morning, I headed over to the Supermax to see her.

When I got there, I walked in the front door, through the door to walk down the hall to her unit, and then input the code to be able to swing open the gate to get into the dementia unit where Ma lives. I walked around the corner and looked around at the people sitting at the tables where they eat. I saw Ma sitting at a table with another woman, and as I got closer, she looked up, smiled, and said, "Hi, Trisha!" I was SO thankful that she knew me. She's been slipping a bit more lately, so it was nice to have her "with it" enough to know who I was.

I sat down at the table with Ma and the woman with whom she was sitting. Ma's tablemate would mumble something every so often, and repeat the same words over and over, and I couldn't really understand her, so I just shook my head and said, "okay" a couple of times. I turned my attention to Ma and asked her how she was doing. Ma can't speak in complete sentences anymore, and often uses words that don't belong. So, we can't have meaningful conversation, but she knows I love her, and I know that on some level, she is still able to love me.

After Ma quit talking for a minute I said, "Well Ma, I have something to tell you. I got engaged!"

It didn't register with her. At all. She piped up with new and different things to say. But she didn't acknowledge what I'd told her.

So, I just asked her some more questions and let her tell me the things she was saying, all the while feeling a bit bummed that she couldn't share with me in my joy of being in love and planning a wedding. But, I figured she wouldn't get it. I'd just hoped a little bit that she would have some spark of excitement. But she didn't.

What I did have joy in though, was that she knew me. It's a hit and miss thing when I go see her, whether or not she will know who I am fully. And when our visit was all said and done, and I said, "Goodbye. I love you," I walked to the gate, re-entered the code, walked down the hall through the door to the hallway, and input the code to get out of the Supermax. But, I left knowing that that day, she knew who I was.

As I reflected on the experience, I got to thinking about how NICE it is to be known, and how often we take this familiarity for granted. And I got to thinking about how we are known by God. As a Christian, I can say that I "know" God (in a certain sense; I can never FULLY know God. What I mean is that I know of God and the salvation God offers in Jesus Christ) and am fully known BY God. God doesn't forget me. I believe God knows me in my joy of becoming engaged, and as I grow in love toward J, and I believe God knows the pain I have in my heart because Ma is not well. God knows. God knows me well, as it says in 2 Corinthians 5:11. That God loves me and knows me is something I cling to in times of hardship, even though I may not always seem like it does much for me. It does.

To know and be known is a great and merciful thing. With faith that God never forgets who we are, may we live. Thanks be to God.

Substantive Posting is forthcoming, I promise.

2008-10-22T14:29:00.002-05:00

But for right now, here are only a few more quick snapshots of what is going on with me.

My oldest brother's 48th birthday was on Monday. I called him, but he didn't answer. I left a message of good will an hope he got it.

This past weekend was a busy one. On Friday, I had my endorsement interview. Endorsement is a big step in the candidacy process in the ELCA. A person is an applicant to candidacy at the beginning. That process involves psychological testing, background check, essay writing, and an entrance interview. Once successfully completed, a person becomes an official candidate and enters seminary. After that first year, a person does some reflection on their call and on their theology and write an endorsement essay. This essay is sent to synod people and an endorsement interview is scheduled. The E.I. is largely undertaken in order for the "powers that be" to see if they believe a candidate is ready for internship. They generally tell the candidate places they have seen growth, as well as some places for continued intentionality. Pretty much everyone freaks out about the E.I. in some manner or another. I think I did pretty well with it, although I was a little nervous. However, the interview was conducted with two candidacy people, my advisor, and me, and was more like a conversation than a grilling. When they sent me out to talk about me, I wasn't too nervous, but it took a bit longer than I thought it should have. When they called me back in, it was to apologize because they had started having regular old conversation, and needed to reel it back in. They are recommending me for endorsement to the entire panel that will meet on January 3rd. I'm excited. They spoke of many good things about me, and also challenged me to grow in a few particular places. They also made a few suggestions to me for the future regarding my spiritual development and the need to find honest and trustworthy people with whom to discuss my feelings regarding my mother, especially when she dies. But, none of the growing edges they discussed with me were really a surprise.

So, Friday night, after my E.I., we had a wee bit of a party, but I could only stay about an hour or so. I needed to go to Illinois because I was going wedding dress shopping with my sisters on Saturday, and was leading worship at a church about 15 miles from my home church on Sunday. I stayed at the party long enough to stomp all my friends at the game, "Apples to Apples!" (THE FUNNEST GAME ON THE PLANET!) and to have some good conversation. One of my friends said that they came out with a biblical version of Apples to Apples. I interjected, "Yeah. It's called, 'Apples to SIIINNNN!!!!'" Got good laughs.

I drove home on Friday night. It was an uneventful trip; one I've done many, many times. I got "home," and went pretty much directly to bed. I was tired.

On Saturday morning, Howard and Sunscreen (who is walking like no other these days!) came into my room while I was still lying in bed. Howard said, "HI TRISHY!" and Suncreen was going, "TRISHY! TRISHY!" It was TOO cute. They got up on my bed and gave me hugs and kisses. It is one of the best ways to be woken up. They're my boys. Sis said that she had been telling Howard all week that Aunt Trishy was coming home, but hadn't said anything that morning. As soon as she brought them down, Howard said, "Trishy? Trishy?" And then came to my room! I love my nephews something fierce!

YS came over, and my two sisters and I shared breakfast with the boys, and then the three of us left to go WEDDING DRESS SHOPPING! Sis and YS had four places in mind for me. One was David's Bridal, and we had an appointment. I only saw three dresses in their catalog I liked, and the consultant brought them to me. I was a little nervous, and so had a little trouble breathing while putting them on. Lol. I kinda liked one, but thought I'd continue looking at the other places, too.

So, the second place we went was probably my LEAST favorite. It was a small boutique with hideous wallpaper and carpeting (not that that REALLY matters, but still...). We had to sign up at the front desk to be put on the list to get a dressing room. We found a few dresses (actually I should say that Sis and YS found a few dresses. I didn't actually do any of the looking) and the proprietor said, "I have a room, but it's very small." We said that would be fine, and she showed it to us. It wasn't that small at all. Sis, YS, and I went in, and they were helping me. Then, a knock came at the door. I said, "Uh... Hold on a minute." And the knocking kept coming at intervals until finally she just CAME IN! The proprietor thought I NEEDED HER HELP! EXCUSE FRICKING ME, LADY! THAT'S WHY BROUGHT SISTERS! SO STRANGERS WOULDN'T BE SEEING THE GOODS! lol. My body language and tone of voice should have clued her in, but it didn't. After that, I was like, forget this place. Let's go! So we left.

The third place we went was lots better. The consultant told us about the dresses, but not overly so. She let us go to looking (and again, by "us," I mean Sis and YS), and then when we found several, she took us back the dressing rooms. She said, "Do you want my help?" I said, "No, thank you." She said, "That's what they're for, right!?" And it was well understood and all was happy. She said she would wait outside the dressing room to answer any questions we had. I tried on three dresses, with no luck. Sis told me that when she tried on her dress, it screamed, "BUY ME!" I wasn't expecting that for me, because I'm not the kind of person that fashionable things scream at. But, the fourth dress I tried on there spoke quite loudly to me. It is simple, yet elegant, and for a dress, makes me feel relatively comfortable. So, I asked the woman to hold it for me, because we had one more place to go. She said no problem, gave me her card, and said she'd appreciate hearing from us when we decided.

The fourth place... Nothing spectacular. I think I tried on two dresses or so there. Neither of them even whispered at me, really. So, we went back to place number three and I said, "You are the winner!" And the consultant said, "Yay! Not because you chose us, but because now you have your dress!" And she was quite a delight to deal with, and she didn't breach every single boundary issue I have with people and my physical person. So, I bought the dress, and am happy that that part is done. I simply need to have it cleaned (it was the last of its kind and was on the sale rack-score~!-so it had makeup from other women on it), and I need to have it altered just a little in the straps. I'm pumped. But, I can't tell you more about it, because my beloved reads this blog (sorry, my love!) and it's "supposed" to be a surprise. And I kind of want it to be. So that is the story on that.

Sunday, I led worship at the church. It went pretty well. I preached REALLY short, but I felt it wrapped up nicely. I didn't feel the need to just go on and on. I got some positive feedback, and then went to the adult sunday school between church services. It was weird because I pretty much led that, too, which I was not at all comfortable with. I used to work on Sunday mornings and couldn't do Bible Studies, so this was pretty much my first one. Lol. But, I think they were satisfied with my input. I don't know. I then led the second service, which I liked better because it felt more like "church" to me. All in all though, things went well.

I then went to visit Ma at the home. She knew me, so that was nice. She can't speak in coherent sentences, so that's not so nice. And I told her I'm engaged and she doesn't understand the concept. I could say more, but I'm not going to.

So, then I went "home" again, saw my boys for a while, and then came back home to the castle. Classes are going fine, for the most part, although I'm not a big fan of Hebrew Language or Educational Ministry. But those are my own issues. I'm working on them. And with that, I'm off to my "FIELD WORK" for Ed. Min. Yeehaw. Have a great day, and I am thinking about a post about knowing and being known. Be prepared.

A few quick updates

2008-10-12T18:18:00.003-05:00

This Monday and Tuesday, we have Reading and Research (R&R) days at the seminary. It's a time to catch up on work, ideally. I did a little bit of homework yesterday, but I really need to get cracking.

The weather is changing, and with it, the leaves and the amount of sunlight hours. I love looking out the windows in the dorm hallway on my floor and seeing the trees in various color stages. Many trees are still green, but there are a few near ones that are almost bare already.

I read a book yesterday called, "When Love Gets Tough, The Nursing Home Decision," by Doug Manning. It's 90 pages of interesting material. The book didn't really apply so much to my family and our situation, but it was decent to read for future reference. My main beef with the book was language and how the author talked about "his" decision to put his mother in law in a home, and did not talk about his wife's input or anything of that nature. If you can get past this subtle "theology of ownership," it has much valuable information. What I liked the most about the book was that he emphasized and re-emphasized that there will be guilt, but that guilt is a normal reaction. He doesn't deny the difficulty of the situation. Another valuable part of the book was when he said that we should not argue with our loved ones about how they feel because it causes them to defend their position, and thus feel the need to stick to their guns until, basically, they are dead. And lastly, about the book, my favorite line in the whole thing said, "I would rather light one candle than curse the darkness." I don't know exactly why I like that so much, but I do.

Let's see, let's see... On the wedding planning front... I think we've basically been taking a bit of a break from it. We have the church, pastors, reception hall, photographer, hotel rooms blocked for guests, and honeymoon including air plans and insurance pretty much set. I am going wedding dress shopping next Saturday with my sisters. They are also finding catering information for us. I need to get cracking on finding a DJ and a florist. The Knot (.com) keeps telling me that I am behind, but there are plans in the making for most of the stuff we are behind in. I'm not too worried.

And lastly, I have been reading some articles and what not online lately about grief and the like. Here are a couple of the blogs/grief articles I have found that can be useful for people who are going through all sorts of grief, and not just the grief of having a loved one with dementia:
An Article On Anticipatory Grief

The Grief Blog

Grief & Bereavement from the Alzheimer's Association

There we have it. A few quick updates on what I've been doing. I hope you all are enjoying the change of the seasons, and that things are going well. Shout out to ya later.

It was the Salmon Mousse!

2008-10-04T02:01:00.003-05:00

Alright, so obviously I'm feeling a bit better. It always helps to write down my thoughts and what not. I get them out, and then I can think about them more and feel better, which I do.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you all a story about what happened on Wednesday/Thursday for me.

A good friend, whom I shall call "Earsy" for the purpose of this story txted me on Wednesday night. She has been to the doctor, emergency department, and acute care about six times in the past two weeks for ear pain/infections. So, she texted me and asked if I would go with her to the Emergency Department. I said yes, because ear infections suck, and I wouldn't want to have to keep going alone if I was having recurring problems like that. Being alone in that sort of situation is not fun. So, I drove her to the hospital around 10:30 on Wednesday night. I waited in the waiting room while they took her information and took her back to an examining room. I was reading for Hebrew Content, so I was not too bored. Anyway, after a few minutes, one of the ladies from the front desk came out and asked if I was with "Earsy." I said yes, and she said, "She would like you to go back there with her." So, the woman took me back and I sat on the chair by her. She was laying on one of those rolling beds and had an IV hooked up and what not. Earsy said that they were going to take her down for a CT scan to make sure she didn't have something more serious wrong with her. So, we were just waiting patiently because they had a heart attack come in and an ear infection takes the back seat in relation to a heart attack. Anyway, so Earsy and I were just talking and what not, and a nurse came in and gave her a shot of painkiller because she was in some serious pain, and she could not see out of one of her eyes. Needless to say, Earsy got a little dopey. While we were waiting, we had a word of prayer, and then talked some more.

Eventually, a young lady came and wheeled Earsy down to CT to get her scan done. I waited with her stuff because they said I should not go. So, whatev. Anyway, they brought her back up about ten minutes later, and we talked some more. Around 1:30 a.m. the doctor came in and said that it wasn't as serious as they thought it could have been, and so she could go home. The doctor gave her some instructions, and then the nurse came in with the paper of instructions and papers to sign and what not, and we were set to be able to go.

Earsy was still a bit woozy from the pain medicine they had given her, so she clamped onto my arm, and I walked with her out to the car. I leaned her against a pillar and drove to come get her. When we got back to Seminary, she clamped onto my arm again, and we walked to the elevator and came up to our floor (3). So, I helped her into her room, and she laid down without even changing her clothes (not that I blame her). I told her I would come get her in the morning so she could come to my section of Hebrew because she didn't think she'd be able to make it to her earlier section. On my way out, I turned off her main room light, turned on her bathroom light, and walked down the hall to my room and immediately got ready for bed. I set my alarm for class in the morning and went to sleep. By that time, it was 2:30.

Six hours later, I was woken up by the eardrum-piercing shriek of the fire alarm and the blinding flash they make. I don't even remember getting out of bed, I got up so fast. I put on my glasses and my zip up black sweatshirt, my slip on brown shoes, put my phone in my pocket, and walked out my door. I remembered Earsy and that oftentimes she cannot hear the fire alarm (she has hearing aids and what not), and that she had asked me before to make sure she was up when the alarm goes off. So, I was going to just walk into her room and get her for the sake of time, but it was locked. She must've gotten up in the night and locked the door. So, I started pounding on her door, and she answered by opening the door a little bit. I said, "I don't know what is going on right now, but we need to go outside." She said, "Okay, give me a second. I need to put some shoes on." So, I turned around and saw one of my neighbors coming out of his room while putting on his shirt, and a neighbor down the hall come out of her room in her pajamas. All the while, I was just standing there at Earsy's door, waiting for her. So, Earsy came out of her room and we all went down the stairs the first floor to get out. On our way, I noticed the room by the door to get outside was propped open and there was smoke coming out of it, as well as a burnt smell. So, our residence hall manager was making sure we were coming outside. Earsy, as well as most of my neighbors and I were standing outside the residence hall at 8:30 in our pajamas. I was thinking, "What time is it? I'm going to be late for church!" I was so out of it. I thought it was Sunday! And about five minutes later I realized that it was Thursday and that I had classes still! So then, I noticed that I was still in my pajamas. And not just ANY pajamas, but my yellow Spongebob Squarepants pants. Everyone else pretty much had plaid pajama pants or they were dressed (good thing Earsy went to bed dressed when I brought her back). So I said, "I win the dorkiest pajama contest!"

So, by this time, the first responder cops showed up and I could hear the firetrucks coming from down the street. The RH manager told us we should go to the Refectory (cafeteria) to stay warm and to get out of the way of the firemen who would need to go in, check to make sure there was no fire, turn off the alarm, and get the scoop on what really happened (one of the international students microwaved a breadstick or roll for way too long and it started smoking). Anyway, so we went to the refectory and I was just hoping and praying that Dr. Printimating wouldn't come through and see us all (namely, ME!) in our pajamas. And what happened two minutes later? Dr. Printimidating came through. Haha. Not that it REALLY matters, but I'm not a fan of random people seeing me in my pajamas. Especially not people who I respect and who intimidate me. Oh well.

The funniest thing about this whole experience to me was that when the fire alarm started going off, I had the presence of mind to remember Earsy. Usually I forget about her because she's a big girl and can take care of herself, but that day, I pounded on her door, which turned out to be a good thing. She had woken up, but could not figure out what the sound was. She thought it was her alarm or that her ears were REALLY messed up. Granted, the building wasn't really on fire either, but whatever. Also, the funny part is that we were standing on either side of her door, practically having a conversation through the shrill shriek of the alarm, while all of our neighbors started filing out. And the funniest part yet, for me, anyway, was when I said, "I don't know what is going on right now, but we need to go outside."

I was really out of it. Haha. But anyway, we were able to go back to our rooms within fifteen minutes or so, and I went back to bed for an hour. Then, to the classes for the day. Fun times.

And the title of this post? I just watched "The Meaning of Life" for the first time ever, and I laughed SO hard I was screaming. I thought Earsy and I were both so out of it that we could say that the culprit was the Salmon Mousse. I vote yes.

Have a fantastic Saturday.

Smiling is an important daily activity.

2008-10-01T17:19:00.003-05:00

Well, friends, I'm going to be honest here and say that I've not been feeling the best the last couple of days. The weird thing is, I have SO much for which to be thankful; the love of a good man, two sisters whom I love, three beautiful nephews, a brother and his wife I'm fairly close with, an awesome array of friends, a God who loves me unconditionally, and the opportunity for education. So, with all this, I just feel like a big whiner for saying that I'm having a rough go at it right now. But that's the truth.

I guess I'm just kind of sad about the way things are with my mom and how that affects her, me, and the whole rest of my family. And lately I've also been thinking about my dad and how I miss him. I'm a bit sad that at our wedding, J isn't going to get to do a Mother-Son dance and that I don't get to have my dad walk me down the aisle or to dance with me. I'm sad that I can't talk to my mom and hear her advice on how to live with and love a man for decades more of my life. I'm bummed that she won't get to sing at my wedding, or even attend because it would be too much for her. And I'm also worried that I am going to catch flak from people who don't "get" the situation who think that it is selfish of me to not find a way for her to come.

But there is nothing I can do to change these things. I can remember with joy and love the way things used to be. I can know that Christ is with me in the range of emotions I am feeling right now, and that I don't have to deny them. I can even try to deny these feelings and just keep swimming. It's just hard to do sometimes, and darn near impossible at other times.

Mom keeps deteriorating, and because Alzheimer's and Vascular Dementia are so similar (and often Vascular Dementia is accompanied by AD), I have come to believe that she is in Stage 6 of her dementia. After talking with YS today, I am pretty much convinced. And I looked ahead to what we can expect and there is more to come, but the thing that gets me the most is that she's going to lose the ability to smile. My mom, who taught me humor by her own example, and who appreciated laughing and smiling, is going to lose the ability to do these things. And I think that really fricking blows.

And at this point, I *should* say something optimistic about how the love of Jesus is with me to get me through, but I think that's candy-coating it, and I don't feel like candy-coating today. Don't get me wrong, I'm not losing my faith; not at all. I just don't think we are called to smooth things over all the time. And right now, I think to smooth things over would be to disrespect the human condition; the condition that God in Christ came to embody.

Suffering produces endurance, eh?

Fun Times

2008-09-28T14:57:00.004-05:00

Well, here we are, 4 or so weeks into the semester (depending on whether or not you count prologue wee). J has been living in his new community for what seems like FOREVER. I miss him a lot, but we talk every day in some way or another. Last night, we had a virtual date. We had a video call on MSN messenger, and we played the games that they offer. We even put a puzzle together, and it was so much fun (even though I suck at puzzles). I had a great time. It's amazing to think of my life and how much I love him, and how only 10 short months can change a person. I was planning on staying single forever, but that didn't happen. J and I started hanging out near the end of the fall semester of my junior year. Then, on Valentine's day, we said we liked each other, and on March 13, we made our relationship "official." And now, we're engaged. It's amazing.

Back before J, I thought that I was going to be single forever. I told people that I was going to be single forever. But now I am blessed with the love of a good man, and I'm gushing. In my former days, I would be about puking by now. Lol. All this is just exciting. I can't believe it. I still get giddy when I remember J asking me to marry him. :) :) :)

I guess the point of this post is to say that it is good to be open to new experiences. I'm so thankful I was wrong. :) Enough gushing for now. See y'all.

I'm slacking!

2008-09-23T19:54:00.003-05:00

Hello, all. Well, I've been slacking with this whole updating thing. It's the beginning of a new semester, and I'm still trying to figure out the correct balance of doing things. Right now, I'm TOTALLY not balancing right. It's my own fault though. I'm too excited to be wedding planning with J than to focus on my schoolwork. Although, I am really enjoying Hebrew Content. The Hebrew Scriptures are really interesting (when you're not having to deal with genealogies and numbers and what not). There's scandal, people overcoming odds, and all kinds of stuff. Very interesting.

Anyway, so, the wedding date is May 30th, 2009, at my home church. We're very excited. Because, well, this is an exciting time. It's also an exciting time because J is about two weeks into living in the communities to which he has been called to serve. He's in the midst of ministry, and I hope, feeling affirmed and delighted. I'm excited for him, and I'm excited for the people who called him. He's a really talented, smart, and funny man, (only a few of his wonderful qualities), and they are fortunate to have him.

Tonight is the season premier of Law&Order:SVU. A friend and I have watched this show on Tuesday nights for the entire time she's been here and it's been on. It's grown a bit to include other friends, but it is a good time. I'm excited.

Lastly, Pumpkin seeds aren't near as tasty as sunflower seeds. That is all.

I sure hope this isn't a premonition...

2008-09-17T20:31:00.002-05:00

Today, I took a bit of a nap. I had gone to classes this morning, and also worked out when a panel from Illinois could come for me and another young woman from Illinois to interview us for Endorsement. It took a wee bit of work to schedule all of this stuff, but I got it done. After I got that figured out, I went to check out this youth center where I will be doing my "field work" for a class. When I got home I laid down on my bed. I really wasn't all that tired, but I felt a bit off, and thus decided to rest. Soon enough, I was asleep, and having a crazy dream.

I dreamt that it was the day of the Endorsement Interviews. The way it works is that one person from each synod (or state, as in my case) is the lead coordinator and works to find a day and time when all the people they are grouped with can have the interviews. The leader can delegate tasks, so long as a room for interviewing is reserved, the panel, student, and faculty advisor are there, lunch is straightened out, and for those who come from a long way to get accommodations. So, I'd been slightly stressed about getting all this done because there are some things going on in my synod that are going to make the assistant to the bishop for candidacy affairs unavailable for a while. I wanted to get things hammered out before she left, so that she didn't have to be worried about it while she is away. Needless to say, I've had Endorsement on the brain. Anyway, so back to the dream...

I dreamt that instead of having these interviews on all separate days, every single synod was doing their interviews on the SAME day. Seminary set up big old rooms for dinner and what not about it. Well, on this day, my fellow Illinoisan and I forgot to meet our panel at the front desk. When we remembered and got there, he was like, "Finally!" and he rolled his eyes. So, he was saying snarky things to us about how incompetent we were and what not. And so, we were trying to be apologetic and polite, and so we took him to the dinner. There were ice sculptures set up and big long tables of food that people were sitting at. Our "panel" (which consisted in the dream of just this one guy), was not impressed. He had to wait for his meal, during which time, he continued to degrade us. So, after the meal (which I don't remember eating in the dream), there was some sort of presentation. He was not amused, and in fact, did not like at all. All of a sudden, it was like an hour or two had passed, and I loked around and saw that one ice sculpture was severely melted, and another one was basically destroyed. Just the base of it was there with a bunch of water in the ice "walls" that remained. Not many people were in the room anymore, and I looked around to see our "panel" destroying the ice sculptures. I knew that they wouldn't have degraded so quickly. He pretty much told us we were incompetent failures, and that he shouldn't have wasted his time.

At this point, I jerked awake and was like, "Dude... What the heck!"

I've been having some weird dreams lately that have been causing me to jerk awake. It's weird, and slightly amusing because when I wake up, I know that my subconscious has just blown things way out of proportion. I'm fairly confident that my Endorsement Interview (the next step in Candidacy for me and my classmates) will go well. My academic work has gone pretty well, I think I'm growing in this whole, "Trying to talk in class" thing, and I think I'm becoming more confident with my particular gifts and abilities. Dreams are bizarre things, I reckon. That, and I have lots o' stuff going on (obviously).

Anyway, I just thought I'd tell y'all of my crazy dreaming again. Have a delightful day.

The Ring!

2008-09-14T22:46:00.005-05:00

I forgot to post about the engagement ring J and I picked out! It is 1/4 carat princess cut diamond with a white gold band. Here is a picture:

It is simple, which is just my style. :) See you all later.

Most of you already know...

2008-09-13T21:33:00.006-05:00

But J asked me to marry him and I said yes. He asked on Sunday, August 31st, 2008 (obviously). He asked me to go with him to his new home to help move him and his stuff in. His call is about 11 hours away from Seminary. Four of his congregation members came down in a suburban to help him move that weekend. They got here late on Friday night and went to sleep. Early the next morning, we went down to J's apt and loaded up his Uhaul. Two people drove the truck, two people went in the suburban, and J and I went in his car. Before we departed, he asked me to go get a CD he had made me. Good music.

We stopped a couple of times for gas and food, and made it to his new home in pretty good time. There were several congregation members there to help unload the truck, and J got to tell them where to put all the boxes and furniture. Someone else brought pizza, beer, water, and pop, and so we had some good time for fellowship and getting to know you. One of the congregation members showed us how to get to the hotel at which I would be staying. Then, J brought me back to his house, after we went and saw the church. It seems like a really neat place, and I mentioned how much I like it. When we got back to his house, I helped him set up his bed so he could sleep comfortably during his first night in his new place (even though he was coming back to Seminary for about two more weeks).

After we got the bedroom situation figured out, he took me back to the hotel because we were both pretty beat. As I was getting ready for bed, he sent me a really sweet text message, and I replied, and then went to sleep.

The next morning, he came to get me for our long trip home. We drove around the town in which one of his congregations and the parsonage are. It's a town of about a thousand people. They have a prominent landmark right off the Interstate, and so we stopped and looked at it and read about it for a little bit. Then, he took me to the town where his other church is. He showed me the outside of his other church because we couldn't go in. They were still worshipping. Both places seem really cool, and I enjoyed the congregation members I met. Good folks.

After he showed me around that town, which has about 200 people, give or take a few, we headed out. We drove for a little while, but then stopped at another prominent landmark in a town on the Interstate. We had our picture taken with said landmark, viewed the museum and tourist sites there, and then got back into his car. Before he started the car, he said, "Did you ever listen on your computer to the most recent CD I made you?" I told him that I had only ever listened to it on my DVD player. He said, "So you don't know the names of all the songs?" I told him that I didn't. Then he said, "I finished the insert for you. You might want to pay special attention to the first letter of each song." So, I read the first letters that spelled out, "Trish will you marry me?" I turned to him and said, "Are you asking?" And he said, "Yes. Will you marry me?" Of course I said yes, and I am thrilled. We got the engagement ring later that week because he wanted us to pick it out together.

We tried to keep it quiet, but told several of our friends the next week. I asked the usual Seminarians Gone Wild crew to go out to lunch for a "pre-Wednesday get together event." All but one was able to go. We went out to lunch at a Chinese Buffet. As I came back from my second trip, I was standing up near the end of the table and I said, "Hey guys. Hey guys... I lied. The reason I wanted you all to come to lunch is because we're engaged." It was so neat to see their reactions. We got hugs and squeals and all that good stuff. We asked them to keep it on the downlow because were were planning on going to Illinois to tell my family the coming weekend.

So, Friday, we got to Sis and BiL's house. I wanted to tell both of my sisters at the same time, so I had kinda put a bug in YS's ear that she needed to visit us at Sis's house that weekend. I'm thankful that Sis, YS, Howard, Sunscreen, BiL, J, and I had dinner together on Saturday night. YSB had to be someplace else, so that was a slight bummer. Anyway, though, before dinner, I was making cocktails, because I gotta make myself useful somehow, and YS came up to me and said, "Hey T, I had a crazy dream about you the other night!" (Remember that the week prior, I had had that dream where she was incredibly angry and she really was?) I said, "What did you dream about?" She replied, "I had this dream that when you and J came home, you guys were married!" I kinda smiled and said, "No... We're not married." Then, about an hour later, after we had finished eating dinner, we were enjoying a nice glass of peach champagne when I asked BiL when he was going to Canada. He told me when and then he said, "Too bad we're turning right at (town where J and I got engaged), or else I'd come see you, J!" I said something like, "So, you're turning there? That's where he asked me to marry him." And they were all like, "WOW!" And BiL said, "I KNEW IT!" And YS said, "My dream was almost right!" And they gave us congrats. YS said, "I told YSB that if T gets a ring before I do, I'm going to be pissed!" I asked her if she was okay with it, and she said, "Yes, I'm very happy for you!" And she was. I can tell when she's upset, and she wasn't upset. Maybe this will be the impetus for YSB to ask YS. They've been together a good long while, and he's a good man. I just think he's been burned before.

So, the family knew, and that freed J and me up to tell whomever we wanted.

The next morning, we went to my home church and I introduced Pastor to J. Pastor told J congrats on graduating and being ordained, and J said, "Among other things." And I held up my ring hand and said, "We're engaged!" It took Pastor a second to realize that I was holding up a ringed finger and he was excited about it. We told him that we had wanted to wait until we told my family, but now we could broadcast it to the world. So he said, "I can help you with that, if you'd like! I can make an announcement if that's alright with you!" We told him that it would be.

So, Pastor did the regular announcements that morning, and as the last one he said, "Some of you maybe have met Trish's friend, J when he was here in August?" (He looked at me to see if that was right and I said, "July"). "When he was here in July when Trish led worship when I was gone. J is a recent graduate and is ordained and will be starting a call (in his call towns). But when we were talking this morning, Trish held up her hand like this and showed me that they're engaged!" I heard the whole congregation go, "Awww!" And then they all started clapping. I turned bright red, of course, but I felt very loved by them. It's good to have "congregational approval," despite the fact that I'm in love and would marry him even if they didn't approve.

I'm just glad they didn't freak out and think I was going to quit seminary. That is not AT ALL my plan. J realizes this and supports me in my continuing education. We are planning on getting married this coming May, though. I'm excited, to say the least. I just wanted to share this news with you, my blogging community, despite the fact that most of you knew already. :)

Anyway, this has been an extremely long post, so I'ma head off now. Have a delightful day.

I'm a slacker!

2008-09-05T16:26:00.002-05:00

I'm dreadfully sorry for not having posted anything lately. I've been a little busy. Prologue week ended today, and so there is a picnic later today that I will be attending with J. I'm glad that Prologue Week is over. I ended up making myself look stupid more days than not. Haha.

We had opening worship on Monday night. A friend asked me to be a standard bearer, meaning, I had to stand in a designated area with my classes colored (black) banner. I, along with the water bearer, led our class into the refectory to be seated for worship. But, before we went in, I was just standing there as a beacon. I was looking through some of the photos of the event later in the week and saw one of me looking intently at my banner. It's not too terrible, but I have a look of concentration on my face and the people are probably like, "WHAT is she LOOKING AT!?" Lol. I was looking to make sure none of the black ribbons that made up the banner had come off again and started flying away. But, most people don't know that.

Let's see, I don't think I did anything on Tuesday, but on Wednesday, I was really tired, and so I put my hands on my forehead to rest my head. I wasn't *Really* sleeping because I could still hear every word the prof was saying. Then, he said something interesting, so I took my hands down and wrote it down. However, about 10 seconds later, I decided I needed to shift in my seat. The unfortunate part is that my chair did not have the screws in the bottom of the seat to keep it down. So, I started to fall forward until my friend sitting next to me put his arm out and anchored the back of my chair down. Most of the people in the class started laughing and the prof said something to me regarding falling asleep. I told him I wasn't falling asleep, but that my chair was broken, but I don't think he believed me. And the rest of the profs (Prologue week is team taught) thought I was sleeping. Thankfully, my small group leader asked me what happened later. But, the whole thing just made me feel stupid because everyone thought I was sleeping, and then the professor and I had a short conversation right then and there and I turned bright red and he said he was blushing too. It was just weird.

Thursday, we were all sitting in class, listening to the lecture, when the professors asked us to ask questions. Because I hardly spoke in class last year, I thought I should work on that this year. So, I tried to ask some question, but it met with silence and bewildered faces. So, I said, "That isn't clear to you at all, is it?" and they said, "no." So, I rephrased, and they kind of answered, but not quite the question I was asking. I don't want to be "that girl" who just talks and asks stupid questions. Ugh. Oh well.

Today, I didn't really do anything to make myself look stupid. Which is a good thing. One of the profs, I think made another classmate feel stupid because he (the prof) was not paying attention to what was going on when my classmate had to leave. He brought attention to her as she left, and I felt bad for her because I wouldn't appreciate his comments in the middle of class like that either. He wasn't being mean, but he was drawing attention to her. And then, when he realized WHY she left, he brought MORE attention to her. Gimme a break.

Oh well. Hopefully this is not a sign of things to come. I think things will be fine; we just need to get back into the swing of things.

Oh yeah! And I need to tell you another story about something ELSE that happened today!

J and I were at HyVee returning a RedBox movie (A new thing for me, but really cool). Anyway, someone else was using it when we got there, so we were going thru the movies for sale bin. This older woman in a motorize shopping cart was also looking through the movies when she said to J and me, "This is what the world is coming to!" while pointing to the movie, "The Omen." At which point, she launched into this diatribe about how we all need to repent from our sins because satan is here and we're about at the end of the world and would experience God's wrath if we all didn't repent. And she talked to us for like, 10 minutes! I tried to tell her that J is a pastor and she just blew right on by, continuing to talk about the mark of the beast and the coming judgment and what not. She then said she was going to give me some information about what is happening, but I said, "We have to be going." But then this woman dragged me into MORE conversation. Then, when she finally took another breath, I interjected about how I am glad that we are the recipients of God's wonderful grace. She took that as an opportunity to talk more about how, despite God's grace and goodness, we still need to DO things. I'm all for living a faithful life, but she was not listening at all to us.

It reminded me of pastoral care last year when we were told that before we want to be heard, we have to listen. I guess this chic missed the memo on that one. Oh well. The whole experience reminded me of a good friend of mine here who has weird experiences ALL the time! I am excited to tell her about this lady, who we finally got away from because the RedBox finally became free. Yikes.

Anyway, so that is that. Have a great weekend all. See you, and I'll try to post more frequently.

I called YS

2008-08-23T17:11:00.003-05:00

So, I called YS this afternoon to tell her about the dream (see post below). It turns out she IS really angry... Just not at me. YS is a pharmacy technician, and is VERY good at her job. Mama did a good job at instilling within all of us a good work ethic. YS is very capable and understands things that are lost on some people. Anyway, she works in the pharm. department of a hospital, and has for about a year or so. The only thing is, these two ladies were giving her all sorts of flak because she was assigned to the robot when they got it right around the time she started working. These ladies were not assigned to the robot because it is newer technology and they have proven to be a bit difficult to instruct because they apparently can't handle constructive criticism. So, YS knows all about this robot and is very efficient at it. But, the ladies were offended and have taken it out on her. So, YS got fed up with her attempts at being nice to ladies who would have none of it, and would talk smack about her, or ignore her completely, so she was going to quit and go back to her job as senior pharmacy tech at WalGreens. However, the hospital stepped in (despite the fact that YS is not a "tattle-tale." She didn't say these ladies were the problem until after much prodding by the boss) and they all had a meeting and gave her a substantial raise, and so now she is working both jobs.

Needless to say, she's stretched a little thin, in my book. YS is a wonderful, wonderful person, but she's not so good at realizing the need for self-care. In my opinion, she is becoming frazzled. Thankfully those two ladies are being nicer to her. The unfortunate thing is that there is a young man who works there, but "works" is used loosely. From what YS has said, he pretty much just scoots around in an office chair all day, asks YS to do his work, and draws chicken people on pretty much any piece of paper he can find. Strange, yes... So, YS is really fed up with his laziness, and says she wants to punch him in his face every time she sees him, which to me is slightly funny because she's not a violent person. But anyway, when she told me all this, she had prefaced it with, "You had that dream about me because I AM mad! Just not at you!"

I thought it was interesting that I would have a "YS is really angry" dream when she is in fact very angry. I've not talked to her in about a week and a half, and she'd not told me about this chicken people drawing guy. Dreams are weird. And with that, I'm going to go have dinner with some friends! Have a wonderful evening.

Crazy Dream

2008-08-23T12:44:00.002-05:00

Last night, I had a bizarre dream. Since I enjoy posting the weird ones, I bring you, "Catfight!"

I was back at my home in Illinois and YS and Ma were there, too. YS and I were being animous toward each other though, especially as we started to go outside to get into the "family" car in the driveway, which was like my old Jeep Cherokee (not Grand Cherokee, just Cherokee). I hurried up and ran to the driver's side so I could drive, but YS was screaming at me because she wanted to drive. I said, "Tough." So, I got behind the wheel and she got in the back seat to pout. Then, Ma (with all her faculties) came out and sat in the passenger's seat. I could tell YS was really mad, but for some reason, I didn't care. So, we set out, and all of a sudden, we were at a restaurant. YS, Ma, and I got a seat, but then, YS started getting snarky with me, and so she tackled me in the middle of this restaurant. We were rolling around on the floor screaming at each other and hitting each other and everything.

Then I woke up, probably out of shock because YS and I haven't fought in years, and there is nothing on my mind to be angry with her about. The other thing is that YS is not a fighter. She can't handle the tension. She will most times, try to smooth things over, or bury her own feelings so as to not "make waves." When we were younger, we used to argue a lot, but that's because I was always doing the "big sister" thing and trying to protect her from herself. I realize in hindsight that I should have let her be more independent so maybe she wouldn't have made so many mistakes (considering I think that my trying to control her made her rebel against anything I said). I'm glad that I have backed off of her. I don't harp on her like I did when we were teenagers, and I'm glad that she's doing relatively well for herself. We are good friends, I think, my younger sister and me. All three of us girls are pretty close, so I'm very thankful for that.

Anyway, it was just an interesting dream, what with the time warp back to a time when some things were better and some things were worse. But, I guess it helps me see that nostalgia has a time and place, but I live in the present. Hmm.. Have a lovely day.

I was slightly surprised!

2008-08-20T13:29:00.002-05:00

I just got off the phone with Sis. I had called her because I was trying to call my bank about some stuff, but no one was answering. That's because the bank closes at noon on Wednesdays. But, anyway...

After Sis told me that the bank was closed, we got to talking (because they're allowed to talk on the phone at work), and she told me about the boys. They're at their new babysitter, and Sis says they are being stinkers about going in the morning. She says they bawl and when they get there, Howard grabs her arm and says, "READY TO GO!" And then, when she comes to pick them up, he does the exact same thing. However, the sitter says they are good during the day, so I don't know what the deal is. Probably the transition. They had the old babysitter for most of their lives, and then they had me, and now it's someone absolutelly new. I think it'll just take a little bit of time before they're excited about going there.

But, the thing I'm blogging about is that Sis and I were talking and she said, "We're moving." My reaction? A crescendo of, "you're moving? You're moving? You're Moving? YOU'RE MOVING!!!!" and then crazy maniacal laughing. Sis said, "That's an interesting reaction." I was just a little surprised, that's all. I mean, I knew they were talking about the POSSIBILITY of moving, but they're actually moving. They do have a room for me, though. It will be in the basement, but I'm cool with that. They have wanted to a smaller house for some time. The house they have now is huge, and is more than they can take care of. I'm slightly bummed because their current place has a hot tub and a pool, but they say they're going to take the hot tub with them unless it's a selling point. At this point, I'm slightly bummed I didn't get more landscaping done while I was there. It's hard to work hard when you have two little ones who require constant attention and supervision.

But, it's just weird to think that Sis and BiL and the boys are moving again. They have been at their current place for about four years, which is a record for Sis. I think I'm going to like the new house because I am all for not having more house than you can keep clean and tidy. Plus, living in the "country" will be a good experience for them, I think. BiL has issues sometimes with neighbors and all the junk that living in a small town entails.

That is the news I'm slightly surprised at. I wish you all could have heard my reaction when Sis told me about this. It was pretty classic. ha. Anyway, I need to go write my Endorsement Essay now. I'll probably post on that later. Peace out.

Take a Look! It's in a Book! It's Reading Rainbow!

2008-08-18T17:59:00.003-05:00

Earlier this summer, some of you might remember that I posted about some books I had read. I read, "The Rapture of Canaan" and "Lamb, The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." They are both very good books, but in different ways.

Anyway, I kind of had to take a break from reading while I was in Illinois watching my nephews. They would wake me up far earlier than I would ever wake up if I were left to my own devices, and so I could not stay awake late into the night reading. But, now that I'm back at Seminary, I am reading a new book for fun. It is called, "Waiter Rant-Thanks for the Tip-Confessions of a Cynical Waiter."

This book was written by the man who has maintained Waiter Rant for the past four years or so. His blog has been in my "favorites" list for quite some time now. He has blogged mostly about his experiences as a waiter in high end restaurants in New York City and the surrounding areas. Because his blog is wildly popular, and because it garnered much attention, he was given a book deal.

I am almost finished with the book, and for the most part I have enjoyed it. He tells good stories about the restaurant industry; stories that even I, who worked in a plain-jane restaurant (not a chain, but not a dump, either) can relate to. The stories The Waiter (as he goes by) tells do a nice job of linking his experiences to the outside world. He even tells a bit of history here and there and weaves analogies from waiting into these historical concepts. It brings his material alive and helps people realize that restaurants are not separate from society, but rather reflect the attitudes and behaviors of society.

However, there are some points in the book that I think could have been reworked to make it a notch better. For example, The Waiter talks about entitlement, which is a very real thing waiters and waitresses experience when dealing with the public. When people go out to eat, some of them think that the wait staff's sole purpose in life is to bring them their meals. Well, that may be their purpose while at work, many of the people who work in restaurants are also putting themselves through school, or waiting tables as a second job to save up because times are tough, or whatever. Entitlement is really out there. But the thing is, as much as The Waiter complains about it, it seemed to me, in certain places, that he exhibited these behaviors himself. At one point, he was talking about the chef making the staff some lunch before the shift started. He asked the chef to make tacos (the chef was from Mexico, I think), and then, when the tacos came out, he said, "Finally!" It just struck me as a bit odd that he would display that sort of behavior in the middle of his schpiel on the evils of acting entitled. Maybe I just took it wrong, but that's how it came across to me.

There are a few other examples in the book that seem to me to show how The Waiter does not speak to the situations of wait staff who do not work in high-end establishments, and is, in fact, much more off in his assumptions about them than he would probably like to admit. He seemed to imply that you have to work in a high-end place to make any kind of money. Granted, my time at Restaurant didn't garner me LOTS of money, but I had enough to cover what I needed, and even to save quite a bit every week. Maybe that's because I'm cheap, though. The point is, you don't have to work in a restaurant that charges thirty bucks an entree to get by.

And lastly, the thing that probably bothers me the most (because the other things aren't THAT bad; simply observations I have made), is that there are LOTS of typographical and grammatical errors all throughout the book. I think I found nine errors by the time I reached page 102. And I've found a couple more since then. I'm a bit of a neurotic when it comes to proper spelling and grammar, and it just frustrates me knowing that people make GOOD money to EDIT these things, and yet, so many errors slip by. This is the first book I have ever read with SO many blatantly obvious errors.

With all this talk about the shortfalls of the book, though, I want to put it out there that I am indeed enjoying the read. It gives me a glimpse of what the wait staff in high-end establishments have to deal with. Additionally, The Waiter has some really interesting reflections and observations because of his background of working in the mental health field, and of having been a Catholic seminarian. I would recommend the book to those who aren't fanatics about spelling and grammar. I would especially recommend the book to people who eat out at restaurants often. I was very fortunate during my time as a waitress because about 90% of my customers were quite tolerable. Many of them were actually a delight for me to serve. Very few customers prompted my inward groaning. What's nice is that The Waiter talks about the good, the bad, and the ugly; it's not just a complain-fest about the dining public. So, if you're interested in finding a good read, I recommend, "Waiter Rant-Thanks for the Tip-Confessions of a Cynical Waiter."

A Special Day!

2008-08-16T20:02:00.002-05:00

Today is a special day! Today, my one and only, J, was ordained into the ministry of Word and Sacrament! J's birthday is also today, which makes it even more special. Worship this morning was quite lovely. J chose good music, good leaders, and he looks mighty fine in his stole. :) I read one of the lessons he had chosen, and I also helped serve communion, so I felt honored to be a part of the day. Thank you! I'm so proud of him, that he's come so far, and that he's got an interesting road ahead of him that I am confident he will maneuver with grace and love. Congratulations, J, and I love you!

Catching Up

2008-08-15T01:39:00.002-05:00

Because I was in Illinois for the past month and a half (basically), and because my computer with all my favorites was not able to be connected to the Internet, I was not able to read some of the blogs I frequent. Tonight, I was doing the rounds, and I saw a plea from a man who blogs over at http://www.lutheranhusker.blogspot.com. He is walking in his area's Memory Walk to raise money to find a cure for Alzheimer's Disease, and so he is asking for donations to help him meet his goal of raising $2000. He's already at over $1700, which is very laudable. I know that most of the people who read my blog are cash-strapped seminarians, but I thought, what the hey? I could throw the opportunity to support this very worthy cause out there. To donate to Matt's team, go to this page. You can donate online, or print out a donation form, write a check, and send it via snail mail.

Dementia is a horrible, horrible disease, and Alzheimer's is the most common type of dementia. Unfortunately, it is also incredibly destructive. Memory Walks are organized in many communities. If I'da been on the ball, I could have scouted out the possibility of making a team to walk from the Seminary community. Thankfully, there are people who do the walking. Here's to finding a cure in our lifetime!

East and West

2008-08-12T23:51:00.004-05:00

Psalm 103:8-14

The Lord is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always accuse,
nor will he keep his anger for ever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as the heavens are high above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love towards those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far he removes our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion for his children,
so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him.
For he knows how we were made;
he remembers that we are dust.

On my recent trip through several states, while driving through the night and trying to stay awake and alert to watch for critters, which I inevitably would hit anyway, I got to thinking about how far our sins are removed from us by God's gracious work in Christ Jesus. They're removed as far as the East is from the West, but how far is that, really? I mean, really, if you think about it, where East ends, West could be thought to begin. That would mean they're not very far apart at all. However, this drive took me from Interstate to Interstate, and I thought about Eastbound and Westbound traffic. They're only a median apart, and yet they never meet. East goes its way and west goes its, all the while, but they never meet.

What does all this talk about Interstates have anything to do with how far our transgressions are removed from us? Good question. The way I see it, when our transgressions are taken away, it's like they never happened. It's not like God keeps a ledger of who does what wrong and when. In Christ, the richness of grace is showered upon us. Maybe, in baptism, when we are baptized into Christ's death, the old person who has been drowned in the waters of baptism can no longer meet the new person who is made alive in Christ. The forgiveness we are freely given keeps us going along those Interstates, still ourselves seeing what we have done and what we continue to do, and yet trusting in God's grace in Jesus to bring us ever closer to Christ.

Hmm. Well, it's late, and this idea is still pretty new to me. Maybe I'm not making any sense, but I thought, what the hay? I am only awake right now because I'm doing laundry so I can go back to the Castle later today. I'ma go visit Grandma at her nursing home, which I would have done on Sunday, but I can only handle one nursing home a day, and maybe stop by my church if Pastor is there, and then head on out. It's time to return to the land of adult interaction every day. Have a good one.

Counting Down the Days

2008-08-08T23:05:00.002-05:00

To what, you may ask? I am counting down the days until I go back to Seminary. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE my family, but like I've said before, I need adult interaction every single day. Sis and BiL and I do chat, but they're usually tired by the time they get home from their work, and then they want to play with their kids, (obviously! Who wouldn't want to play with them. They're adorable!) watch a little t.v. and go to bed by about 9:30. Me, on the other hand; well... I'm re-energized when they get home. Tonight, I walked my bike uptown to put air in the tires so I could go on a bike ride. Unfortunately, after I aired up the tires, I realized I couldn't pedal because the chain had rusted a bit and fallen off. I managed to get it back on so that it wouldn't click, click, click as I pedaled, and it goes along just fine. I just can't change gears. Oh well. It's not in the toughest gear and it's not in the wimpiest gear, so I'm okay with that. Sis didn't want to take the kids for a walk today, so I had to get out, and bike riding is what I did.

BiL and I also replaced the gauge/instrument cluster in my car, Neno. The speedometer has been messing up for a few months now. I would be driving along and the speedometer needle would start dancing all over the place. It didn't do it too terribly often; just enough to annoy me. It didn't even really give me much trouble on my trip last weekend. But, one of the last times it started not working, the tripometer/odometer didn't work either. Thankfully, I gave the underside of the wheel a good whack and it all corrected itself. But, I wanted to get it fixed, all the same, so Sis, BiL, and I ordered the part off of EBay, and we put it in tonight. I had no idea the top part of the dash just snaps off. It's really cool. It was only a 20 minute job, but if I'd taken it to a car repair shop, it probably would have cost me a couple hundred dollars. We got the gauge cluster (used) for less than 50 bucks, and I didn't have to pay for labor. Good work! Yeehaw. I can go back to the seminary with a fully functioning car (knock on wood).

As I prepare to go back, I also am thinking about things I have yet to do. I am leading worship/preaching on Sunday. I finished my sermon yesterday, I think, but I'm going to go over it to make sure it isn't ridiculously boring. I hate being boring when I preach. This sermon is a tad bit more academic than I'm used to preaching, but I don't think it'll be over the congregations heads at all. I'm kind of excited to preach it. Hopefully they hear a word of grace in the message.

I also plan on calling my good friend who was the cook at Restaurant while I was there. She's still there, despite the fact that she is 78 years old. She was disappointed back in the Spring when she couldn't come see my presentation from Israel/Palestine. So, I told her that if I ever got a laptop, I would bring it by and show her. So, now that I have a laptop, I can. I wanted to show her a couple of weeks ago, but I got sick, and then she had family come in from California, and then she went with them. I think she's back now, but that is why I need to call. I don't just want to pop in on her, although I'm confident she wouldn't mind. I love that woman, and she loves me. It's a good feeling.

I also need to go to the Supermax and visit Ma one more time before I head back to school. The home where she stays just sent Sis, who is the Power of Attorney, her Care Plan Guide. I read through it, and found most of the information pretty obvious to anyone who has seen her lately. However, there were some disheartening things in there regarding her mental status and another physical thing that we were told could be a potentiality back in December. It's still "only" a potentiality, but the fact it looms over her and us is just a bit saddening. I guess you never know when the end will come, and so I don't want to have regrets. I have had experiences where I have "lucked out" and gotten to see someone I loved right before they died unexpectedly, but I have also had experiences where I have not seen a person and so have lived with regrets. Since I don't know when the end will be for Ma, I want to make sure to visit her reasonably frequently so that I don't have those regrets.

And lastly, Sis and BiL are having a "send-off" dinner for me on Tuesday night. YS and YSB are coming, as well as BiL's sister and her boyfriend. My little ol' heart was warmed the other day when BiL's sister told me that she refers to me as her sister in law, because we're just like family, anyway. It's nice knowing they don't just consider me to be a person they have to put up with to see Sis, BiL, Howard, and Sunscreen. They like me, they really like me! Anyway, for dinner, BiL is going to make my absolute favorite meal ever, which is roast done medium rare, homemade mashed taters, and dark brown gravy. He's going to put the roast on the rotisserie in the grill, which is AWESOME. He offered to make me one of his famous prime ribs, but I would much rather have the roast. And, better yet, he's sending me along with the leftovers. Weehaw!

Anyway, so that's what I'm doing these next few days. I'm going back to Seminary on Wednesday. That is the day the new babysitter starts. The ex-babysitter is back from vacation in Florida, and they came to visit the boys. She said she misses them, which is a natural thing. But, she made her decision about not watching them anymore. Hopefully, Howard and Sunscreen grow to love the new babysitter like they did the old one. I want them to be happy. I love my boys so darn much.

Oh, and a quick aside. Tonight, I got Howard to say, "How YOU doin'?" It's so cute. It comes out more like, "How doin'?" but it's so cute. Sunscreen still isn't walking. He's about 14 1/2 months old, and Howard didn't start walking til he was 15months old. They're both smart; just slow to get going. Anyway, that is enough blubbering for me. Have a wonderful evening, and stay safe. 4 more days til I go back and see J, my room, and all that being back at school entails! I miss everyone! Peace out.

A Reflection

2008-08-05T22:09:00.002-05:00

This past Saturday, as I was chatting with some seminary friends at another seminary friend's wedding reception, we got to chatting about the peculiarity of life. Basically, we were just remarking about how we got to meet/see all kinds of new people we would otherwise not have met because they live 1000 miles away from us, but because we went to this wedding, we "met" them. We also talked a little about how people's lives are so deep and rich and there is no way we could ever know all about them. For instance, one of the guests just got engaged last week, but didn't want to say anything for fear it would steal away from celebrating Bride and Groom's day.

As I reflected on that, I got to thinking about how EVERYONE has things that even good friends don't know about. There are milestones, happy and sad, that are faced all the time. There are personal struggles that are either painful or embarassing or whatever that they don't want to share. But there are also joys and happiness that sometimes people don't share for fear of minimalizing a friend's emotions.

It dovetails nicely with the saying, "Be kind to everyone you meet because they are all facing some sort of battle."

Every day is a new day. But, every new day comes after an old day that has affected how we live. Each day is not lived out in a vacuum, unless, of course, you are Drew Barrymore in "50 First Dates." Days have symbolic meaning in our culture. We measure the passage of time in days. We celebrate days: Christmas Day, New Year's Day, birthdays, Independence Day, etc. And we also reminisce about days that bring forth memories; some painful, some joyful, and some a mixture of many things.

On this day in 2002, I went to the movies and watched "Austin Powers: Goldmember" with my two step-nieces. When I returned from an early showing, Ma told me that her biopsy had come back with news of breast cancer. From that day forward, she dealt with surgery, chemo, radiation, the loss of all her hair, illness, pain, and a host of other effects of cancer.

And yet, as I look back on my own experience with this particular day in history, I know that others have far more painful memories associated with it. Conversely, I know that this is the birthday for many, many people, as well as the wedding anniversary, or any other celebration that we have under the sun.

We can live out each day, even days that bring us painful memories without shame because pain is just as valid an emotion as any other one. It's too bad that our culture tells us to shut up and get over it already. To all who remember "anniversaries," good or bad, I say, "Embrace your feelings. They are valid, and you are valid."

Mastercard Post

2008-08-05T14:35:00.002-05:00

7 stops for gas:mucho deniro
denting the car by running over a HUGE racoon:$0 because I'm not having it fixed
Room for the night:$40
Getting to traverse through five states on the 17 hour drive in order to see a good friend's wedding:Priceless!

I was super busy this last weekend, to say the least. On Friday, YS came to Sis and BiL's house so that she could watch the boys and I could get ready to leave for my mini-date with J, and go to seminary friend's wedding 4 states away. When I got back to Seminary, I found J at the party that was being held on the quad. A couple of students (and one recent grad), a professor, and the president of our seminary are in a musical group. They were playing music and a whole mess of people were out there listening. It was fun. J was doing some paperwork things, so I talked with some friends I had not seen in a while. Thankfully, we did get to spend a little time together before I had to go. It was good to see him, and good to see some of my friends. I can't wait to go back next week. I love the nephews, and I'm sure I'll have a little bit of sadness when it's time to go, but I need adult time, each and every day.

Anyway, about 10:00 p.m. I left the seminary for my friend's wedding. Google maps said it takes 13.5 hours to go from Seminary to the place where the wedding was. However, I figured it'd be a bit longer than that with gas stops. When I got on my way, I thought at one point I was off the plotted course, and it turns out I was. Google told me to stay on a particular road, and I did, but it turns out, I should have stayed left at the fork. I only tacked on about an extra hour to the trip, though, so it wasn't that bad. I drove all through the night, watched the sun come up over the prairies, and arrived safely to the place of the wedding at around 1:00 p.m, despite hitting a racoon somewhere in Minnesota (I think) in the middle of the night. I'm a little bit neurotic about watching for deer, cops, and critters, but this thing just darted right under my wheel. Maybe the thing was suicidal, I don't know. And it was a HUGE racoon. I saw it dart out from the grass on the side of the road, realized I had no time to do anything to avoid it safely, and tensed up as I went "kaplump, kaplump" right over it. When it got light out, I stopped for gas and surveyed the damage. The thing dented my front bumper up pretty good, but I think I might be able to fix it myself. It looks like if I give it a strategically placed whack from the back side like it could pop back into place. When I got to the camp where the wedding was being held, another seminary friend who also used to work at the place told me to take a nap, so I did for about 35 minutes or so. It was good enough to refresh me a bit.

The wedding was at 4:00 p.m, so I changed clothes and woke up a little bit by talking to some people. After a little while, we went down to the lake where the wedding would be held. People were starting to be seated and so I saw one of Bride's friends who I had met when the friend visited at the seminary. I sat with her and her husband for a few minutes before the wedding was to start. Unfortunately, I had a MONSTROUS headache, and sitting in the sun was making me feel weird and gross, so I had to go to the back and sit in the shade. But, I got a good view of the bridesmaids, groomsmen, ring bearer, flower girls, and the bride and her dad as they walked down the aisle. The bridesmaids wore deep blue dresses, while the groom and the groomsmen wore tannish colored suits, perfectly colored for such a warm day. Bride looked absolutely beautiful in her white dress, that wasn't Plain Jane, but wasn't over the top, either. She was gorgeous!

The ceremony was beautiful, as well. It was like a worship service, but with vows in it. We sang, as well as listened to readings and a sermon. There was even communion, which I am a fan of at weddings.

The reception was also quite nice. The food was good, the company was good, and I had been given some ibuprofen to get rid of my headache. I also saw a couple of other seminary friends who were there. We sat together at the reception. It was fun. Those friends are getting married (to each other) on the 16th in Arizona. I wish I would have felt up to dancing, because I can bust a groove (although with little to no coordination). But, by the time I got back to the camp (the soon to be married couple drove me back around 11:00), I had been up for 39 hours, with about 45minutes of sleep in there. But, I am so glad I went. I wouldn't have missed it.

The next day, I slept in and missed church (I know, I know... My bad. But I figured God would prefer me to get a good night's sleep in order to make it safely back to Illinois so that I could attend faithfully in years to come than go that morning and get into a wreck or something on the way home!). I woke up around 10:00 or so, settled up with the payment part of it all, said goodbye to my seminary friend who was not the bride, and left around 11:30 or so. I drove and drove and drove. For some reason, the drive toward home through the first two states seemed to take longer. They're beautiful states, just kinda boring to drive through. I stopped at the first rest stop over the border at the second state though, and refilled my water bottles. There were two ladies who serve as information givers or something. We struck up a short conversation. They asked me if I was a teacher and I said, "No. I am a graduate student at MySeminary." They said, "Oh really!? That's really neat." I said, "You've heard of us?" They both replied that they had, and I was impressed. Maybe they are Lutherans! :) But, we talked for a few minutes, they gave me some information about their lovely state, and we said goodbye. They wished me luck on my schooling and my ministry, and I went on my merry little way. They were quite nice. It was a good place to have stopped.

The drive back took me about 17 hours or so, but I was well rested, so it wasn't too bad. I even drove past one of the churches to which J has been called. I took a couple of pictures on my new camera phone (YS and I are on the same plan because that was her gift to me for my birthday a couple of years ago. Because the contract was up, we got new phones for renewing it). There were several folks who looked to be going there, and I was impressed because they waved when I waved. Good sign.

When I got home, I brought in the essential things that I had gotten out of my suitcase, came inside, put my pjs on, and went to bed. I was beat. It was a great weekend of fun and friends, which I wouldn't have missed for the world. I'm thankful for making it home safely, and with no big occurences. One of my high school friends, who is one of the group with whom I get together multiple times a year, lives in one of the cities I had to go through. I wish I'd not gone through the city in the dead of night, or I would've stopped to visit. But, I did get to talk to her to make sure my roads weren't hindered due to the flood and the damage it did. I was all set. Thanks for helping me out, homegirl! You're the bomb!

Anyway, that was my weekend. Now I'm back here in Illinois, watching the boys. They're being naughty little dudes today, but I think it's because they're not feeling well. Oh, and I'm no longer "homeless." I've come to think of Seminary as home, in a way, but I still have Illinois license plates and what not, and I want to vote in Illinois and all that stuff, so I didn't want to make SeminaryState my home. But, I changed the address of my license online to Sis and BiL's house, so I have a house again. I also updated my voter registration. So, that's kinda nice that I have an official home. And now, I need to go because I hear a little boy who wants up from his nap and is telling me so by kicking the wall by his crib. Have a delightful day.

Plans

2008-07-30T16:10:00.003-05:00

Well, the boys are upstairs napping, and I am thinking about what I am doing or preparing to do.

J's ordination is coming up within the next few weeks, so I'm planning on going to that and showing my support. Yay! Good work, what with getting all the way through and jumping through all the hurdles and everything. I'm proud!

I'm also planning on going to the seminary this coming Friday to have a mini-date with him before I hit the road for about 12 or 13 hours to go to a wedding in a state I've never been to before. I'm looking forward to seeing the state where the wedding is because it's also the state to which J has been called. I'm also looking forward to the wedding because it will unite a very good seminary friend and her fiance in holy matrimony! Congratulations!

On the trip, I'm also excited to see at least one other seminary friend. It seems like forever since I've seen her, but it's only been a couple of months. She's been doing Clinical Pastoral Education, and I've been at the castle or in Illinois watching the boys. I'm glad that my friend is done with CPE and has a bit of down time before the semester begins. I'm proud of her for getting through! YAY!

And as I plan for the future, I think about where I was last year at this time.

At this time last year, I was up to my eyeballs in the Summer Greek program at seminary. I was struggling with declensions and verbs and nouns and all that good stuff. I was meeting the people who are not a part of my class, and for whom I am incredibly grateful to have in my life.

At this time last year, I was also having to contend with Ma's quick cognitive decline. Today actually marks the one year anniversary of her living in a nursing home. We thought it would be July 27, but it ended up being the 30th because they needed to prepare her paperwork and make the place available for her. So, today marks the day that she entered the home to live. However, she was moved not long afterwords to a locked dementia unit because she escaped from the first home 32 times in one night. I blogged about that experience when it happened. If you're interested, search, "32 times." I'm too lazy to link to it right now.

The point of this post, I guess, is to say that life always changes. Bad and good things happen, and we keep trucking on. It's not necessary to deny these feelings that we experience through living, and it's not even necessary to deem them "good" or "bad." It's just easier sometimes to label things. With faith, love, and grace, I have also gone on to have hope, even when things seem to bite the big one. Here's hoping you also find hope in and through your own life experiences. Peace Out.

A nice respite

2008-07-28T22:24:00.002-05:00

This past Saturday, I got to go hang out with some awesome friends I have had for varying lengths of time. One I've known since grade school, some from middle school, and one from high school. They're all wonderful people. I've blogged about them before; about how we go for months without seeing each other, and some without even really emailing or anything, but then, when we get back together, it is like no time has passed. I have been involved with 3 of their weddings, and the other person is not married.

I love my friends. We get together at least two times a year. Once in the summer and once around Christmas/New Year's. This past Saturday, we got together not only for our summer get together, but also to have a mini baby shower for the one of us who is pregnant (not me!). It's amazing. The friend who is having a baby is the friend I've known since grade school. It's so awesome that she and her husband are having a wee one. I'm excited for them. I'm also glad that she was game for a lot of festivities on Sunday.

We went to lunch, to a family fun park and mini golfed (I won because I made TWO hole in ones! Or holes in one; I'm not sure), and we went to the DQ for cold treats. After DQ, we went back to the apartment of the friend who lives in the town we were hanging out in. We talked and talked and talked. And ordered pizza!

It's just amazing how varied friends can be. I have these friends and friends from college and friends from seminary and random friends from here and there. And they're all different, but they are all SO valuable to me. Thanks, friends. You all are awesome!

Hewo? Hewo?

2008-07-22T21:02:00.002-05:00

A couple of days ago, Sis and BiL got home and so I was "off" duty from watching the boys. I'm never FULLY off duty, but when Sis and BiL come home, I can relax a bit.

I was off in the kitchen doing something, but then I remembered that I needed to go to the basement to change the laundry over (Not only do I watch the children, but I'm also practically their housekeeper and gardener). However, on my way, I noticed that the bathroom door was shut, although I had left it open since Sunscreen was not around to go in there and swish around in the toilet. As I walked by, I heard someone on the other side knocking on the door, and ever so calmly say, "Hewo? Hewo?" I opened it up to see Howard in there, in the complete dark, standing and waiting for someone to let him out. As he left the room, he said, "Dark!" It was so cute. I had to share. Peace out.

Time

2008-07-21T22:03:00.002-05:00

The other day, I went and visited Ma at the Supermax. When I got there, I went to her room to find her, but she wasn't there. I looked in the lounge, and in the bathroom, and in all the public areas, but she was no where to be found. So, I enlisted a nurse's help to find her.

The nurse said that Mom sometimes wanders around to the other patients' rooms and goes in. So, she knocked on and entered every door, just about. Another nurse came and helped, too. As I was walking back to her room to make sure she wasn't in the bathroom, I heard, "Hi Trisha!" When I looked up, I saw a young woman with whom I went to grade school and high school. She's working on becoming a nurse, and so is getting experience at the Supermax. It was kind of odd seeing her there, and she asked if Ma was my mom or my grandma. I told her my Mom, and she was like, "Ok, I thought so." I'm glad that this young lady is doing well, but it's just weird to know that she could be taking care of my mom like that. It's my own issue, but I just have this feeling that she is going to talk to the people from school whom she is still in contact and that I am going to be gossiped about. You know, the whole, "Did you know Trish's mom is in the nursing home? They don't visit very often. And Ms. Trish's Ma does this and that and she doesn't know blah blah blah." But anyways... Finally, they found her in some other inmate's room. She came out and saw me and got a big smile on her face as she hobbled up to me and threw her arms around me to give me a big hug. Ever since the time she didn't know who I was, I am glad to see her when she gets the light of recognition right away.

Anyway, we went and sat down to chat for a bit in the dining area. Her urostomy bag (the bag that she has had since her radical cystectomy last year. The bag that now acts as her bladder; it is attached to a circular flap of skin called a stoma, and collects urine) was not working to collect what it is meant to collect, and so I took her to her room to change. Anyway, I had to get a key from the nurse to get into her clothes because the people in Ma's unit are all pretty lost, and they steal each others' things all the time. So, it was an odd thing, having to help my mother get changed because she didn't quite understand the concept of what was going on.

Anyway, I digress.

When all that was over, we went out and sat on chairs in the hallway. I looked up to the clock, and then, for the first time, I noticed that there were a couple more clocks not far off from the main wall clock. One was in a case with old knick-knacks, and one was on the wall across from the old case.

The clock in the case of knick-knacks really made me reflect a bit. These people, who cannot live in the present, spend their time thinking in years past with old memorabilia and old memories. That time is not lost to them. Not yet, at least.

Depending upon how you look at it, time is their enemy. Dementia is a gradual thing that makes a person deteriorate over time. And yet, up until the last stages, these people remember years and years ago. They remember being children and being newlyweds. They remember any college or work experiences. They remember prayers, and favorite sayings, and all kinds of things like that. But, they can't remember things after a certain time.

YS took Ma to a doctor appointment the day after I visited with her in order to check on her hip. YS was talking with Ma, who thinks she is still working, and who thinks that my two sisters and I are still little girls much of the time, whom she must care for. She often talks about our father as if he were still alive and they had conversed just before he left for work. Anyway, YS said that Ma was talking to her and she said, "I need to get going. Do we have a car big enough to fit YS, Trish, and Masculine form of Sis's name?"

I don't know if she forgets that she has 2 boys and 3 girls, or if she just messed up saying Sis's name. The time has slipped away. I don't know if that makes things easier or harder for Ma herself, but it makes things harder for us kids.

The unfortunate thing about Ma is that she's in the latter stages. She still knows us most of the time, but she could not string together one coherent sentence when I visited. Not a single one. Everything was "stuff" or "things" and when she wasn't being vague like that, she was putting weird nouns in that didn't fit, and her verbs were wrong, too. I'm thankful for my CPE experience that has helped me learn how to talk to people of all sorts. I am able to "talk" to Ma even if she can't convey what she's thinking or feeling to me. She seems to respond positively to me, but it's just tough. Time keeps her dementia going.

I just got to thinking of that song, "Love will keep us together." I don't know anything else of the song, except for that one line. I just think that even though Love will keep us together, Time will take us apart. It's a bizarre thing to have someone you love be RIGHT there, and not fully be able to be with them. It's sad and it's frustrating, and yet it is where we are right now; it is where many people are right now. I've had a bit of good time with Ma. All us kids have. So many times, when a loved one is sick, we think, "We just want more time!" And that's a completely valid way of looking at it. Disease really sucks, and it takes away the time and the experiences, and the health that we would like to have to give to those we love. But more time for Ma means further deterioration, increased confusion, violent outbursts, and loss of motor skill. I love her; it's just hard to see her this way.

This has been a really long and rambling post. I've just been thinking a lot lately. I hope you all are doing well and enjoying what summer has brought you.

Good News!

2008-07-16T11:19:00.002-05:00

Howard came out of his procedure well. They sedated him, used some vacuum or something, and sucked fuzz out of his nose. The medical staff was super impressed with the little guy because when he woke up, he wasn't freaking out. He didn't scream or cry or kick or anything, which they say, is what little kids usually do. He was tired and wanted his blanket, but he was pretty chill. I'm so thankful all went well.

After the surgery, Sis asked what color it was, and it was white. So, it was probably couch cushion/pillow fuzz. I figured that'd be what it was, and so yesterday, while the kids napped, I sewed up all the places where the pillows had come apart at the seams. I also sewed the underside of one of the cushions because it too was coming apart. It doesn't look the greatest, but you can't really notice unless you're looking for it. Anything for the kids, yo.

Anyway, Sunscreen is upstairs napping and Sis is on her way home. Thank you for your prayers so much! Have a delightful day.

It's that time of year again.

2008-07-11T22:10:00.003-05:00

It's odd, but it seems like every summer, my brain starts deciding that I need some sort of change. This is a fairly recent development for me, I'd say, occuring for the first time maybe 3 or 4 years ago. The first time I felt the twinge, I didn't really know what it was, and so I lived with the feeling for a couple of months. But, I later figured out I just needed a change. Usually, it's nothing big, though. I started feeling it the other day again, though. So, instead of ignoring myself, I decided to get my hair cut. I have short hair, so there aren't a whole lot of options. But, I made an appointment at the place here in town, and went in today and told the young lady to surprise me. And I am pleasantly surprised. The change is successful. Hopefully that's all I needed.

It's also the time of year where we can get into Sis and BiL's pool! We had dinner after I got back from my hair appointment, and then suited the boys up in their swimmer diapers, and got into our own suits. They are so cute. Sunscreen actually kicks his little chubby legs like he knows what he's doing. Howard kinda just lets ya pull him around. Since they're so young, they need CONSTANT supervision. They didn't stay in long because they were getting cold, but I think they had fun while they were in there. When Sis and BiL got out, they took Sunscreen with them. But, Howard wanted to stay out on the deck and look in the pool. I had to stay out there because two of the neighbor kids came over to swim, and Sis has a rule that kids need chaperones. I could have been mean and said, "No," but why would I do that? So, the neighbors were swimming around, and I stayed by the deck because Howard was up there, and two year olds are unpredictable. Unfortunately, the neighbor girl got to talking to me (she was encouraging her little brother to swim to her by the ladder/deck. So, we were only a few feet away from Howard. But, because I was listening to the neighbor, I didn't see Howard lean over the pool until I heard and saw him splash into the water. I immediately though, "OH CRAP!" and I ran/swam quickly over to him and helped him reach the surface. When he popped out of the water, he was kind of stunned, and then he freaked out and cried for about 10 seconds, but I held onto him tight and spoke soothingly and reassuringly to him. Then he said, "Out! Out!" So, I put him out of the pool. Thankfully, he got back on the ladder like he was going to come back in, and he did a little, but then I noticed he needed a diaper change. Thankfully those little swimmers are designed for such things. So, anyway, the neighbors got out of the pool, and we all went our separate ways. I'm just glad Howard was okay. I felt SO bad for taking my eyes off him for the few seconds it took for him to fall in the pool. Water safety is VERY important, especially as the temperatures rise and the kids know pools help cool them down. Their is a fence around the backyard where the pool is, and BiL built a gate on the deck so that little ones can't just have quick and easy access to the pool. Good work, BiL.

And lastly, I would appreciate your prayers for Howard. He is going to have some outpatient surgery next Wednesday. He likes fuzz a lot. He pulls it off of rugs, out of blankets, and from the inside of cushions. He just needs a little bit to hold up to his face while he sucks his thumb. Unfortunately, it seems that he has gotten a bit of it up his nose. We noticed because he started having really bad breath about a week or so ago. We thought it was a sinus infection, but then Sis and BiL thought they saw something up there. They took Howard to the doctor who got a little bit of it out, but said that he needed to see an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist. So, they took him today. The ENT was able to get a bit more of it out, but there is a pus pocket or something that is blocking the way for the rest to be removed. So, he is being sedated next week so they can get it out so he can be healthy and happy again. It's "just" outpatient surgery, but it's tough when it's on wee ones because they're a whole other case than an older child or adult having surgery. Thank ya much, in advance. Peace to you all.

Wheeze

2008-07-07T20:31:00.007-05:00

Well, Friends, I am still alive. I have been sick since Wednesday. I don't think it's anything too serious. Just a respiratory type thing, with laryngitis on top of it. I was in bed from Wednesday afternoon until Thursday afternoon, and was happy to be able to get downstairs on Thursday. Usually, this sort of thing knocks me out for three or so days.

I did have extra incentive to be functional, though. Not only am I watching Sunscreen and Howard, J also took this past weekend off to come to Illinois and meet some of the fam. So, I dragged myself outta bed Thursday, and decided I was okay enough for him to come on Thursday.

It was good to have him out here. Sis and BiL cleaned out the room that was going to be the den, and instead made it into another bedroom. It's a cozy little area, I think. We went to fireworks on the 4th, shopped a little store here in town that's like a permanent flea market, walked the "riverwalk," went to dinner with YS and YSB, and chilled together. Even though I'm still hacking up a lung, I'm glad he came.

This past weekend, I also led worship at my home church and Pastor's other church. OC changed their summer worship schedule, though, and so worship starts at 7:30 a.m. J and I got there at about 7:00 or so, but we couldn't get in because the church was locked. We didn't get in until about 7:29. And, on top of it, I had almost no voice. But, it was fun anyway. I also led worship with my laryngitis at my home church. I'm glad that both churhes have new and very functional sound systems. I think it went fairly well. Not my best sermon, but not my worst, either. I get another crack at leading worship next week at another neighboring church. I'm excited, but need to get on writing a sermon and a kid's sermon.

J went home this morning because he had to work. J left before Howard woke up, and when I brought Howard down, he went over to the den/bedroom door, knocked, and said, "Hi (cute little butcher of J's name)!'" It was so cute. The kids really liked him. I think I'ma get usurped as one of the favorite people! Ha.

And lastly, I will leave you with a little story relating to tissues. Since I'm sick, I am using tissues a lot. Well, I remembered when Howard was a little guy, I did this little trick where I would tilt my head as far back as it would go, put a tissue in the middle of my face, and give a quick puff of air to send the tissue airborn. It used to make him laugh hysterically. I did it once for Sunscreen many moons ago, but he was too young to appreciate it. Anyway, I sat on the floor tonight and told them to watch and Howard stood there, and Sunscreen held onto the couch and they watched me do it. They both laughed SO loud, and so long. Each time I did it, Howard would just bust out like it was the first ever time I ever did that. And Sunscreen was laughing too. As a matter of fact, I probably did all that over an hour ago, and Howard is still coming up to me, even as I type this, and saying, "Try!" Because he wants me to try it again. And, because it was a new and clean tissue, I surprise attacked each of them as I tilted my head back, but then at the last second, came back and blew the tissue into each of their faces. They laughed and laughed and laughed! I wish I'da recorded it on my phone. Babies laughing is one of THE BEST sounds ever.

So, anyway, that's what's been going on in a nutshell. I hope all is going well for y'all.

My heart, it's swollen with wub!

2008-07-01T21:43:00.003-05:00

Well, I'm "home" in Illinois. I am watching Howard and Sunscreen this month. The other babysitter is on vacation this whole month, and Sis said that the babysitter has quit. Babysitter and Husband sold their home and moved to another town, and have decided to cut back. They're only going to watch their grandchildren now. But, Sis and BiL know that I'm not available longer than what I told them I would be. They understand.

Anyway, on my way back to Illinois, Sis called me to ask where I was. Then she said, "Howard misses you! Out of the blue, last week, he started asking for you by name. He would say, 'Trish, Trish!' and then go to the door and get mad when we couldn't produce you!"

I don't want my little guy to be mad, but it makes me heart swell up a little bit to know that he remembers and misses me when I'm gone. He's a cutie. Sunscreen is also adorable. Today, I sat them down for lunch and they were both crying for one reason or another. So, I started singing the song that goes, "Oh, the Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need; the sun and the rain and the appleseeds. The Lord is good to me. Amen, Amen, Amen amen amen! AAAAAAAMMMEEEEENNNN!" And while I sang this little prayer, I clapped a little bit. A few notes into the song, they both stopped crying and looked at me. Then, Sunscreen started clapping with me, even though he's only 1 year old. It was so cute.

They're getting so big, and smart that I'm amazed. I'm ridiculously blessed when it comes to having adorable children in my life.

Also, this week, Older brother the younger and his wife and son are coming up to celebrate OBtY's son's birthday. We shall call him Chicken Leg. Chicken Leg is turning 5 years old. He's also such a sweetie. I remember when he was born and how I about started crying the first time I ever heard him cry. It was SO cute. He's a smart, curious, and clever little guy. I love all my nephews.

Anyway, I need to hit the hay. I'm pretty tired. I just wanted to tell you all what's up. Have a delightful day.

Just when I thought I was done thinking about them..

2008-06-25T14:28:00.002-05:00

Last night, I had a Restaurant dream. Or should I say nightmare. Oy veh. I don't know why I dreamt about them last night, but I did. Maybe it's because I've worked for money recently, and so my subconscious got hung back up at Restaurant. Here's the dream:

I was back there to work for a Friday night. However, my co-waitress was one who quit A LONG time ago due to the bosses ticking her off. Anyway, she was waiting tables with me because on Friday nights, there are two wait staff people on.

When I got to Restaurant, we were putting the salad bar together. That means that you go up to the walk-in cooler and scoop salads like marinated carrots, potato salad, cole salad, three bean salad, etc into these rectangle pans and then put them on the ice that fills the salad bar bottom. It's the waitresses job to do this. So, I was scooping out a pan of marinated carrots when the other waitress stopped helping me. So, I finished putting the salads into pans and then finally went out to the dining room where customers were already filling the place up! All of a sudden, the hostess was there, which was weird because wait staff gets there a good hour before everyone else in order to put the place together. But, the hostess was there, and it was weird because she also hasn't worked there for a really, really long time. She quit maybe 8 or 9 years ago.

So, I looked at the piece of paper that tells each waitress which tables are theirs. I had a bunch of tables, one being the "big" table toward the other end of the restaurant. It seats about 8 or 9 people. I also had "R4" which is bizarre, because Restaurant doesn't have an "R4" table. R3 is the last R table, and that's the 9 seater.

So, I went off to wait on the first tables I had because the big table was later down the list. But, I realized I had no idea what table R4 was. So, I had to turn around and ask the hostess which table it was. She told me that it was out in the bar room, where people generally WAIT to be seated. So, on my way out there, the people at my big table waved at me like, "Get your butt over here! We're ready to order!"

But, I had to go in order. So, I went to R4 and it was a 2 top that were regulars when I really was a waitress there. It was an old man and his son in law. They ordered their food and I forgot to ask the old man what he wanted to drink, so I went back and asked, but the son in law who only wanted water to drink was replaced by this woman who said, "I didn't want water! I wanted apple sauce!" So, I went to the kitchen right away, again forgetting to ask the old man what he wanted to drink. I told the female boss, who is also the main cook that I needed some apple sauce for this woman to drink. The boss was like, "WHAATTT! We don't serve apple sauce to drink!" But then, she started looking all around for it like she was going to accomodate this woman's request. And she TOOK FOREVER to look for it. She even put her hand in the tortellini that sit in the cooler, waiting to be heated for orders. All the while I'm thinking, "Hurry up! I have tables piling up on me out there!" So finally, the boss says, "We don't have any."

So, I went back into the dining room to get some decaf coffee made because the old man always drank decaf coffee. I figured that this way, at least one person wouldn't have to wait FOREVER to get their drink or be told we didn't have what they wanted. However, as I got to the coffee maker, I saw that it was broken. The other host who does still work there came out carrying this other coffeemaker and said, "I need to hook this up. The old one is broken."

Then, I went over to the table and said, "I never asked you what you wanted to drink." The old man said, "Water's fine with me." That made me think, "Dammit! I wasted more time!" So, I had more and more tables piling up on me, and the big table was back there being impatient. When I really worked at Restaurant, I hated waiting on that table because it was time consuming and I sucked at carrying lots of plates at once, considering Restaurant doesn't use big serving trays.

The dream didn't go on for much longer than that. But the basic gist of it was that I was super behind and couldn't catch up, and the female boss was being psychotic at me and taking forever and not being efficient, but was blaming that on me. So, I actually woke up, almost hyperventilating. It was not pleasant.

I guess maybe my brain is still processing out the experiences and baggage that I have from having worked there for so long and being treated like I was sometimes (although, many of the waitresses, hosts, salad bar keepers, bussers, and dishwashers were treated poorly, too, at times). It's actually kind of odd, because as I sit here thinking about the dream and about the reality that was Restaurant, my heart is racing a little. Crazy. Oy veh. Anyway, that is my dream, proudly brought to you by my imagination/subconscious, the letter "T," and my brand new laptop that got here Monday. Yeehaw. Have a great day.

I'm slightly excited

2008-06-23T00:59:00.003-05:00

Why, you may ask? Because, I got confirmation Saturday that Dell has shipped my new computer. Soon and very soon, I will have a laptop of my very own, and J will be able to take his back and not have to share it with his crazy, Internet-needing g/f. Ha. So, that's exciting for me.

I also attended my first ever ordination tonight, which was cool. The ordinand chose some AWESOME music. I was super impressed with his selections. Plus, it was just neat to see a service like that. The guy who was ordained is a neat chap, and he has a call, which is good because he and his wife are going to have a baby in just a little more than a month. Congrats and peace to them.

I also finished reading "Lamb, the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." I recommend the book whole-heartedly. It was amusing, and I got the sense that although it was fiction and what not, the author tried to treat the subject matter with respect. I read the afterword, which deepened my belief that he was not being a jerk about what he had written. The book really made me think a lot, and I have several more blogging ideas written down on my sheet of "stuff I need to remember."

I'm now reading, "The Gospel According to the Son." It's not a funny book, but it's going along quite smartly because the chapters are really short, and it's pretty straight-forward. Some of the language is really old and odd, but that's okay. I get the points he is trying to make.

I'm going home to stay for a while next Saturday. Pastor's "other" church is going to start having a contemporary worship on the last Saturday of the month during June, July, and August, and I'm interested in what it will be like. Also, I need to watch Howard and Sunscreen during July while their normal babysitter and her husband are on vacation in Florida.

Oh! And in reflecting on this month, I am happy to report that I have felt quite useful for several days. Not only did I do roofing/shingling/and yardwork at a seminary friend's house, I also was asked by someone in Admissions to take a prospective student to lunch and a driving tour of the town. I did that on a gorgeous day, and we also went to see a movie: Kung Fu Panda. I wouldn't have chosen it on my own, but it was fairly entertaining. I'm just happy because I got to do things that are valuable. Weehaw. Good times.

Anyway, I need to go to bed. I've not slept well the past couple of nights. I don't know what it is. The air conditioning vent in my room has been making weird noises when it comes on, but I don't know if the squeaking would be enough to wake me up or not. Maybe my mind is just processing things. Who knows?

Have a delightful day. I hope that it is sunny and warm where you are. Happy Summer.

A quick thought...

2008-06-19T18:23:00.003-05:00

There is a saying out there, I think it began in Buddhism, but I'm not sure. It says, "Life is suffering."

This line was in "Lamb," and it got me thinking. Does it mean that life (as a state of being)=suffering? Or, could it mean that the people and creatures that have life in them are suffering? There's a difference. The first one is more of an individualistic thing. When I live, I am suffering (some times more than others, as I can imagine is the case with everyone). That's the nature of life. It can't be perfect because we live in a fallen and broken world. I think there is an inate goodness in most people, but I also think that there is hatred and contempt and meanness in the world, too.

The latter explanation for "Life is suffering," is one that takes into account all people, creatures, plants, and everything that lives. Life is the noun of everything that lives in this sense. we all are suffering under the weight of our own shortcomings and those of others. Life all around us suffers, not in an individual way, but in a way that unites us with each other in strife, in pain, and in humiliation.

So, honestly, I think that Life=suffering could be both. Since I'm fond of thinking in relation to communities, I'm more apt to think about the second explanation. And in this, it is interesting to me to think about Christ coming to live among us. Life (in the individual sense) for him became suffering. The eternal Word that came and lived in Jesus experienced what humanity faces all the time. Senselessness. Pain. Grief. Jesus was beaten and executed like a criminal. Life for him was suffering.

And then, on the other hand, Christ came because of the collective suffering of all of humanity; lost in its own wilderness. Jesus, why did you come to Earth? Because the people and creatures of this planet suffer. Because Jesus could offer something, not necessarily to make life easier or more pleasant, but because of love. And love makes hardships easier to bear.

As Christians are called to show Christ to the world in word and deed, may we find our call as ones to bear hardship with others, to carry burdens with those we encounter, to love those in our midst who are friendless and outcast, knowing that life is suffering.

And so it came to pass...

2008-06-19T18:18:00.002-05:00

That Grandma went back to the home. That woman is like a bouncy ball. She can recuperate like nobody's business. Thank you for any and all prayers you said for her.

Anyway, what have I been up to? Oh, not too much. J and I watched "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the 17th of this month. We were in the mood for nostalgia or something. Gotta love the Old School movies. Yeah.

I'm still reading "Lamb," and I am enjoying it thoroughly. There are some holes to it and what not, but it's fiction. And the things I'm finding are relatively small. And the overall awesomeness of the book makes up for them. Seriously, I suggest this book. It's a bit long, but it's an easy read.

The flood waters seem to be receeding a little bit where we are. A friend of mine and her husband, (who I also consider a friend) were evacuated, but I think they were able to go back and see what was up today. Here's hoping and praying things aren't as bad as they could be.

Well, I am going to stop writing this post, since it is just little blurbs about what is up. I'm going to post a "thinking" post soon, probably. Peace out.

Well, shoot.

2008-06-16T14:03:00.002-05:00

YS called me this morning. She said that Grandma is in the hospital again. She had a heart attack, and now she has those germs that are really had to treat (MRCA, aka Merca). I think they're planning on sending her back to the home soon, but I'm not sure. Sis and YS are going to visit tonight. They're goin to have to gown up because of the germs, but they're going. Makes me glad I visited Granny the last time I was in town. I love my Grandma. A lot. I thought it was kinda jerky that my OB didn't call and let me know, but whatever.

BiL also threw Sis a surprise birthday party that they forgot to invite me to. Thanks a frickin' lot. Jeez. Howard (who is 2), was having a good time because the party was at the bowling alley where BiL and Sis do league bowling. Howard was picking up 14 lb balls and trying to roll them down the lane. The way it sounded, he was being really cute. Sis and BiL want to take him bowling someday soon so he'll learn a bit about it and not try to walk down the lanes, messing up the oil patterns and stuff. I wish I would have known about the party, but I didn't, so I guess I need to get over it. Slightly irked, but oh well. I'll live.

Anyway, if you would, I'd sincerely appreciate your prayers for Grandma; for peace, strength, and comfort, or whatever you see fit to pray for. I trust you. I'm out.

I didn't lie

2008-06-16T00:33:00.003-05:00

So, I said in my last post that I have lots of ideas for new posts. It's true, but this post is not any of those ideas. It is just me rambling.

J loaned me his laptop because he works at night on the weekends. I appreciate having a computer to use in the privacy of my own room. It's not like I'm doing anything inappropriate, but it's nice to be able to check my email and do Facebook and stuff whenever I want (at night) and not have to worry about the library closing and people all looking over my shoulder and what not (not like they would; I'm just paranoid). I ordered my new computer, and I think that it might be down at the FedEx depot or something. I'm not 100% sure, but it's possible because there was a taped message from them on the big doors leading into the main academic building the other day. That makes me think that it might be my new laptop. I hope so.

Anyway, I'm reading another book right now. It's called, "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." It's a pretty funny book. I like it a lot. It's about this guy who gets called forth from the dust of the earth 2000 years after his life and death so that he can write a Gospel of what Jesus was like as a kid. The man who was brought forth is Jesus' best childhood friend. While it's not a thing like the Canonical Scriptures, and it's fiction, it's still a good read because it just is. I can't quite put my finger on why I like it, but I do. It's funny, the author obviously researched and thought about what he was writing, and it's wholly entertaining. So far, I recommend it. Anyone out there had the pleasure of reading this book? And if so, what'd you think of it?

Okay, well, this has been a pretty light post. I need to find the sheet of paper I was writing my blogging ideas on so that I can remember what I was thinking. I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, and so no one idea is sticking in my head.

Oh yeah! And I got to see a good friend of mine today! She was heading home after having been evacuated because of the flooding. She and her husband were going from her mom and dad's house to her husband's Mom's place. They had to go through SeminaryTown due to a detour in a major road, and so called to meet up for lunch. I had a good time, and was so thankful to get to spend time with my pals. Pals are cool. So, thanks for stopping through and calling us, Friend! yay!

Last, but not least, I wanted to write a little bit about last week's sermon. The Gospel Lesson was Matthew 9:9-13; and 18-26. The pastor at the church I attend out here focused a bit on the Pharisees and how they talked about Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners. In the course of his sermon, he quoted the chorus to the song "Anthem," by Leonard Cohen. Here is the chorus:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

The way I took the sermon, everyone is flawed and cracked, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. It reminded me of the passage about how God's power is made perfect in weakness because we are all weak, and that is where God is shown. So, God can be made known through our individual cracks. And God's light shines through those who are not perfect. It's kind of like how I think God can use a person's experiences; even the less than happy ones, to reveal God's self. It's cool. Without these cracks, we might appear perfect, and people might find themselves reticent to acknowledge Christ because they do not feel worthy. The truth is, Christ calls us without our having individual merit. And through the cracks, we can see that Christ loves and lives for us. It was a good sermon and I'm not doing it justice.

Anyway, I'm going to go read some more of my book now. Have a great day, y'all.

Absent

2008-06-13T14:44:00.001-05:00

Hello Friends. I'm back to Seminary a wee bit sunburned, but happy to have done good work. I've not posted in a while, but I have pretty good reason. My computer is pretty much a piece of junk. haha. It no longer allows me onto the Internet. I have a new computer on order, but I don't know when it will arrive. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

Also, I was downstate earlier this week helping a friend do yardwork. We also fixed some of the roof on her shed and reshingled most of it before we were rained out. My friend took me past a river about 6 miles from her house and there were houses half under water. I can't even imagine what that'd be like. I'm confident they'd appreciate your prayers. There is flooding in much of the midwest. Yikes.

Anyway, I don't know how often I'll be able to blog until I get the new computer, which is a bummer, because I've had lots of ideas lately. But, I don't really feel comfortable doing this in the library. Privacy issues and what not... Alas. I hope you all are staying dry. Peace out.

Revisiting

2008-06-05T18:47:00.003-05:00

Summertime has obviously come to schools all around. Summertime is made known in school breaks, in warmer temperatures, and in the chlorine smell of pools that are being treated so people won't get sick from germs. As I've gotten older, summertime has changed for me. I no longer throw water balloons at people on the last day of school. I don't ride my bike around town like a little weirdo filled to the brim with excitement. And mostly, I don't look around and say, "Weehaw! 3 months of no responsibilities!"

While I have fewer responsibilities during the summer, they're not gone completely. Right now, I have few things I "have" to do. I'm going to work for a friend next week. I'll be tooling around in the yard, and doing some work on the shed with her. I'm really looking forward to it. That sort of thing makes me feel useful. And I need to feel useful. I miss the manual labor that I am "spared" by living in a dormitory where there is a grounds crew to do all that stuff. I miss fixing the doorframe on the old back porch after a good hard rain soaks into it and pulls the nails out of it and the wood that holds it in place. I miss sitting out on the deck steps, wearing my paint and grass-stained, slightly holey, tools in the pockets to make my work more efficient, carpenter jeans, cutting up pieces of orange plastic to put into my weedwhacker. And I miss having someone to do these things for, knowing that they taught me the work ethic by example, but who was too old and didn't quite understand the technology to do the work for herself.

So, while my friend is far from incapable of doing these things for herself, I am incredibly grateful that she is giving me this opportunity to work, to get my hands dirty, and to feel like a useful person again.

But don't get me wrong-I know I am a useful person of more worth than many sparrows. I know that I have gifts and talents and proclivities that make me valuable and treasured in the eyes of many. Sometimes it's just nice to have a reminder that is made tangible by sore muscles and a sunburned neck; by the smell of gasoline and fresh cut weeds and grass.

It's an interesting thing to think about; this whole question of what makes us feel useful. One of the last times I saw my advisor this past semester (she likes to see us once a month to check in on life, seminary, and whatever else), she asked me, "What makes your spirit sing?" I was somewhat taken aback by the question, and so my quick answer was, "laughing." I've been thinking some about that question, and I've come to recognize that one reason I have a difficult time answering it is because I don't like the way it's phrased. It's seems so foundationally based on emotion that I just think it a bit too flighty to give any credence to it. But it's not well enough to rephrase the question into, "What makes you happy?" Because happy is an emotion too, and not a very thorough one. Sometimes I am happy, and sometimes I'm not, but I always have joy. So, while this is a rough translation of the question, "What makes your spirit sing?" into "Trish-ese," I would like to put it out there... Perhaps I could do more searching for the answer if the question were phrased, "What makes you feel valuable?"

Earlier I mentioned that manual labor makes me feel valuable. However, it's more than just using mind and muscle together to accomplish a task. The draw for me, I think, comes from acting in service to others; even if indirectly. I was at my house a few weeks ago (not "home," but the place I lived for 24 years), and I found a book I read several years back. I thought that it might make for an interesting re-read, considering everything I've learned the last couple of years, and the last year and a half in particular. The book is called, "The Rapture of Canaan," and is about this fundamentalist Christian group with a very stern leader. Sometimes the book had me laughing because of the ridiculousness of what was being said, sometimes it made me angry because things like that probably happen places in even our own society, and sometimes it just made me think about life. The book did a good job of drawing me in to the story, and I even have found myself slipping into talking like a country bumpkin lately.

Reading "The Rapture of Canaan" has made me feel valuable. Not just because it's a good story, but because I read it for me. College really did a good job of stomping my love of reading right out of me. Some of the stuff at Seminary is much more interesting, but the fact that it is assigned reading is my problem. But, now that it is summertime, I can read for me again. The neat thing is, though, that despite the VAST differences in theology between the people in the book I just finished reading again and me, is that it reinforced some of my own beliefs and starkly put some ideas out there for me to ponder. One of the most important lines in the whole book, in my opinion states,

"Sorrow is a silent place."

That's something to think about, isn't it? The main character, Ninah, had been out with her grandma, Nanna, looking for her grandpa, who was the leader of the community and church. Grandpa had had a stroke, but was still able to move about. Somedays he was more confused than others, but Nanna just kept watching over him, even when he was violent. The day Grandpa went off, the whole community went out looking for him, but Ninah and Nanna went secretly because the community was treating Nanna the way our society has a tendency of treating older folks in the face of stress or fear: like an invalid. So, Nanna was sad when they couldn't find him, obviously, but Ninah didn't say anything because she realized, "Sorrow's a silent place."

How true, and how scarcely followed is this thought. I'm guilty of it myself. When there's sadness in someone's life, I try to say something of comfort. Not something like, "Oh, he's in a better place," but something else. I try not to dismiss their pain because pain is a very real part of human existence. But I think I might do well to remember that silence can be just as comforting. Sometimes, the presence of someone I love is enough to make me feel better, and I think if they tried talking, it would take away from that. Absolute silence isn't necessary, but I'm going to try not to just spout off words for the sake of breaking the silence.

I remember at the end of my first full-time semester here at Seminary, I got some bad news regarding Ma. I meandered downstairs to one of my friends' rooms and she was with another good friend. And I told them and sat on her bed for a spell. They talked some, but were also silent a good lick of the time. And that was so valuable. I appreciated their care and concern, and I appreciate them.

Many of my friends have gone off to Clinical Pastoral Education this summer. Most of them are in hospital settings where they have an assigned floor, but are required to do trauma visits and what not as well. Because I've already done CPE, I am still here, able to plan out my summer as I wish. It is my hope and prayer for them that their experiences in their clinical settings will be fruitful for them; that they will learn the power of their voices to bring the hope of Christ into the midst of pain. But I hope even more that they will learn the power of silence; not silence that speaks of apathy or confusion, but silence that conveys presence and grace. Because despite all of my own feelings, worth does not come from doing any particular set of tasks or anything. Worth comes from God and God's claim on our lives as beloved people for whom Jesus lived, died, and resurrected. We are all the valued people of God. Our mere presence is valuable and respecting the "simple" presence of the "other" is valuable because God is at work through all of creation-even silence. And for this, I give thanks.

More Weird Dreams

2008-06-02T17:09:00.002-05:00

Alright, last night/this morning, I had another really weird dream.

The dream was that the world was doomed, and "they" needed me to save it. But, the only way to save the world was for me to ride on the outside of this INCREDIBLY slowly moving old train with huge bicycle chains from some unknown place to Decatur, Illinois. But the thing is, I had to start at a specific time, and then be in Decatur in about and hour and a half. In all reality, that would be impossible because I got the idea that the starting place was from Seminary or at least home. But, I did it, and the world was saved. But as soon as I got done saving the world by riding on the slow train, I was taken to some church where they were having the funeral for one of my friends (who has been dead for almost 10 years). It was like her death was new. Her family asked me and a guy in my class at Seminary to do some readings for the funeral. Her family is and always has been friends with my family, so I could see why they'd ask me in the dream, but they probably have no idea who my friend is. But, we both agreed. Everyone was all crying and stuff, and my dead friend's grandma was at the funeral too, but she's been dead for probably about 8 years or so. So, it came time for me to go up to the lectern to read, and I just stood there while my Seminary friend read. Every couple of words, we would say the word together, but in the dream, I got the idea that this was how it was supposed to be. Then I woke up.

I don't really know what to think about all this dreaming. The chain thing could be because J and I went to a museum near a body of water that is near to us and we got to board a dredging ship. While walking around near the boats/ships and body of water, we saw a HUGE chain that looked like a bicycle chain on steroids. So, I don't know where the train came in, but that could be where I got the chain. And the dream about the funeral could be because some friends and I went to a park with flowers and memorial gardens and stuff yesterday and there are big granite benches with sayings on them. That makes me think of cemeteries because my dad's tombstone is a bench that has his name, my mom's name, and a child's name they lost on the top and dates of birth (and death for those who are dead). There is some other "life" information on the tombstone, too. So, I'm thinking that garden made me think of funerals. However, I haven't dreamt about my dead friend in a couple of years. So, it was just kind of weird. I don't know. I was at the cemetery recently (What with Memorial Day and all) and I drove past my friend's grave, so maybe that was stuck in my brain.

I don't know why I wasn't reading the whole reading at the funeral in my dream though. My friend who was reading while I stood up there is a nice guy. He's only ticked me off once, and it wasn't a big thing. I'm wondering if my mind is saying, "Stop letting people put words in your mouth/speak for you when you have your own things to say." I don't know.

Anyway, the dream really wasn't upsetting. It just has my noggin going is all. Interesting stuff... Ha. I need to go though. Peace out, y'all.

This is what I get after watching Stand-Ups on T.V. late at night...

2008-05-30T16:20:00.002-05:00

So, I was watching some stand up comics on t.v. last night right before I went to bed. Well, I was watching them, and the news because a whole bunch of severe weather was rolling across the area last night. And it looked like it was heading for us, so I wanted to be aware of the situation. I even put some socks on so if the sirens went off, I wouldn't have to spend time doing that before heading to the basement. It's important to be ready because I live on the top floor. I wanted socks in the really off chance the building crumpled around me and I would have had to walk around. Who wants to do that barefoot? Not I. Anyway, I digress...

So, I was watching some comics on t.v. and none of them were all that funny, but I wanted to laugh anyway, so I gave them the opportunity to make me laugh. I did laugh, but none of them had me rolling. Oh well. Anyway, one of them talked about Canada and the Canadian Mounted Police for just a snippet. He made some joke about how they don't support/help the U.S. in the war in Iraq, and how people say, "Oh, put away the tanks; they've brought their horses!"

I watched one more comic, and then I went to sleep because the storm was dying down. Then, I had this crazy dream that Canada attacked the United States. We had no idea they were going to do it, but they did. They caught us totally offguard. And they were all around where I was and they were making my life miserable, it seemed, by tracking me down! I was at the mall, and these Canadian Mounties were trying to find me. So, there was this old lady grandma who was with them (she was Canadian), and I went up to her when she was alone and I took her hand and started singing "Kumbaya." She wasn't a fan of the war like I wasn't a fan of the war. So anyway, I went away and hid behind this wall and the Mounties came and found her again. Then, they went someplace else and I went to find the grandma lady again. I found her and went up to her again, but it was a trick! The Mounties closed in on me and I looked at the grandma and we started singing "Kumbaya" again, but they weren't having any of it. All of a sudden, I was in a forest with a guy who just graduated seminary. We were assigned to chop down a really thick tree with manual tools (no chain saws for us!). So, he was chopping at the tree really high, which I thought was weird because you're supposed to chop close to the bottom. He had one of those bigger bow saws and I had a hatchet. Since he was cutting parallel to the ground, and because I didn't have a ladder or anything, I really had to reach to chop in the same places he was sawing. And then I woke up.

The dream was incredibly bizarre, but I totally see why I had it. My late night t.v. viewing put the Canadian Mounted Police idea into my head, and I also did some yard work at Sis and BiL's when I was there early this week. So, all that was ruminating around a bit. And since I'd not posted on a dream in a while, I thought I would share. I hope you were at least mildly entertained.

Just Another Day

2008-05-24T01:41:00.006-05:00

Today is another day in the life of Trish.

On this day last year, Sis and BiL brought Sunscreen home from the hospital. It seems a bit fitting that today is the day they are giving him his first birthday party. His actual birthday was May 21st, but because they both work and because life is busy, they postponed the party until the weekend. I am heading for "home" after I sleep a bit.

On this day eight years ago, when I was 17, my car was broken. It was a Wednesday, I think, and I was at work. Ma was supposed to come get me when I was done, but she forgot. I got a ride from a co-worker, but could not get into my house because it was locked. So, I had to walk all around town to try to find Ma to let me into the house. I was not a happy camper.

When I was a sophomore in high school, nine years ago, I had an Applied Biology/Chemistry final on this day. It was a beautiful day with sunshine and pleasant temperatures. I did well enough on the final, but science has never really been my thing.

Eleven years ago on this day, I graduated 8th grade at 1:00 in the afternoon. I walked with my boyfriend of the time because we were both the shortest kids in our class, and they paired us according to height. We were the first to walk because it went shortest to tallest. I was always the short kid, even until about 10th or 11th grade. Modern medicine is what let me grow to the height I am now (5 feet, 5 1/2 inches). I am the happiest person you will ever meet to be completely average.

Thirteen years ago, my part of Illinois was dealing with one of the rainiest Mays in several years. May 24, 1995 was a drizzly, cold, and gray day. So cold, in fact, that I wore a blue hooded sweatshirt with pink roses on it, with black jeans (it was cool to wear colored jeans back then). A friend YS and I shared had spent the night prior at our house, and was going to hang out with us and go on errands with us and our dad. This is the first May 24th that I remember, and I remember hours and hours of the day. It's really too bad it's not pleasant.

The point I reckon I'm trying to make is that "good" and "bad" things happen all the time. This day used to bring up horrible, awful, miserable images in my mind that led to horrible, awful, and miserable feelings for me, but I'm doing better now. I guess it's because I can see that May 24th is not a day destined for craptacularness; it's just another day, like all the other days. I remember this day for something bad, and I probably always will, but at the same time, I can look around me and see that good things happen on this day, too. I guess a lot of how a person feels has to do with how they look at what is around them.

The seesaw has gone the other way now, though. I was 12 on May 24, 1995, and here on May 24, 2008, 13 years have passed. It's just a little odd to think of what I was like back then, and on that day, and to think of me now.

Bad and good, indeed. But now, I need to get some sleep so I can celebrate a birthday later today. I love my boys.

Fun Stuff

2008-05-22T03:35:00.002-05:00

Well, tonight, a group of us from the Seminary went to the midnight showing of the new Indiana Jones movie. I have only seen one of the IJ movies, and it's been a LONG time. But, the new one was pretty good.

J and I went and bought tickets for ourselves and for two of our friends. They weren't sure if their spouses would be coming, so I only bought 4 tickets. We planned to meet at the theater around 11:15 because the theater was hosting a kickoff party with video games and drink specials and what not (this theater serves wine and beer and other adult beverages). When we went into the theater, a very popular X-box game was being projected up onto the big screen. Two other screens were down in the front row for different games. It was quite entertaining, although the people playing on the big screen were not doing what you're "supposed" to do in the game, and were just messing around.

When the theater people took the games down in order to prepare for the movie, an employee came in and was giving away raffle prizes. I assumed they would be giving them away according to the numbers on our movie tickets (which were not taken by movie attendants because they are mini-poster like things). I believe there were 4 or 5 prizes given away. The last number called was 54 and I was like, "That's one of the numbers I bought!" So, one of my good friends stood up and got a prize! It was exciting because it makes me feel like a winner. I don't win stuff very often, and I technically DIDN'T win the Indiana Jones hat, but because I bought the ticket (although my friend paid me back), I felt like I did win. AND, I'm not the one acquiring more "stuff," which is important to me because I'm somewhat of a minimalist. Anyway, I was excited, so congratulations, Friend!

The movie was pretty good. It's fairly ridiculous, you know, the whole plot line and stuff, but it was exciting. It also parallels the biblical story in a few places which I thought was amusing. J and I agree that there is not anything new to be come up with anymore. Very few things are completely original. Not that that's necessarily a BAD thing; just an observation.

Anyway, so it's now pretty late, and although I have nothing to do tomorrow morning, I don't like sleeping the day away. It makes me feel weird. So, anyway, I recommend going to see the new Indiana Jones movie. That makes 4 movies in the past week or so that I have liked which I didn't think I would: Episodes IV, V, and VI of Star Wars, and now the new Indiana Jones movie. Cool. Anyway, y'all have a good night.

So, my posts have tended towards less than happy lately...

2008-05-20T02:40:00.003-05:00

But the thing is... I am doing alright. I wanted to throw that out there. Earlier last week, I was having a pretty difficult time because new things that happen with Ma tend to upset me a bit. Because I consider myself to be a realistic person, I recognized that she would probably not do well with the anesthesia from the hip surgery, and that this violence thing is a new part of her life. With all that, I'm doing better now. I have awesome friends who support me and who ask me how Ma is doing. People pray for Ma, my family, and me through all of this, and faith also helps me.

I just keep thinking about how weird it is that Ma is so far gone already. And I realize that other people have lives that are filled with much more heartache and loss than mine is, but sometimes it just weirds me out to know that I'm a twenty-five year old woman dealing with her mother's quick and steady cognitive decline. Sometimes, despite all of my awesome friends, it makes me feel a little bit alone. There are other people here at Seminary whose parents have dealt with dementia, but to my knowledge, I am the only one in my age group. It's just weird to know that Ma will never see this wonderful place where I live and learn in order to hopefully someday serve the church professionally. It's weird to know that she thinks my sisters and I are young children she has to care for and cook for, and what not. It's weird to think that it is quite possible that the end for her could be nearer than we think, although we do not know for certain. Weird and isolating, I suppose, although, the isolation comes through my own doing, and really isn't THAT big a deal. I think I'm doing a pretty good job with trying to be more open about what is happening. I'm still working on it.

And even in my own isolation, I reflect on the cross. Jesus cried out in Matthew 27:46, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus felt abandoned, isolated, and upset. The Word made flesh in Jesus Christ came and lived this sinless life, and yet, his life was not all kittens and teddy bears. Sure, he made friends, but he also made enemies of many of the religious leaders of the day. He even ticked off one of his own disciples by not having the costly perfume sold in order to give it to the poor. Many events in Jesus' life led to his crucifixion, but I think it is important to not gloss over Jesus' crying out because he believed himself to be abandoned. But the truth is, Jesus was not alone on the cross; he had the power of sin and death with him-unhelpful and uncompassionate companions. Galatians 3:13 says that Christ became a curse for us, and Martin Luther states that a piece of that comes from the fact that this sinless Jesus came and took the sin of every man, woman, and child into his sinless self in order for the Father to be able to see humanity as cleansed. That is how the powers of sin and death were overcome on our behalf. Jesus took every part of humanity into himself in order to redeem and offer restoration to us. He took our shame, our suffering, our hatred, contempt, envy, anger, sadness in order that he could share with us in all that it is to be human; in order that the one through whom all things were made (John 1:3) would be the one through whom all things would be redeemed. Christ shoulders our burdens with us and allows us strength, or better yet, even the ability to be weak, until at last we can set them down and they are obliterated in the eternal love and grace of God in Jesus Christ. In our strength, which is not even as strong as God's weakness (1 Cor. 1:25), and in our weakness, which shows that God's work is within us, upholding and strengthening us when we are unable to do so ourselves.

So, we do have these companions with us: joy, sadness, fear, loathing, anger, happiness, excitement, pride, and so forth. These emotions are a part of who we are and how we perceive and act to the people and the world around us. The Incarnation means that God cares about us enough to experience these things with us in Christ. May we recognize that we are never truly alone because God stands with us in Christ through even the worst of situations; not necessarily to make us feel better, but to offer a word of peace in the midst of turmoil. Thanks be to God.

This thing is always badgering me to Title my posts.

2008-05-20T02:00:00.002-05:00

But the thing is, sometimes, I can't think of witty titles, or titles that adequately reflect what I want to say. I digress.

A quick update on life:

My first full time seminary year is over. I got an A!!! on my Systematic Theology paper. The professors who read it said they enjoyed it and that it is creative and well thought out. I was thrilled, especially considering most of us were seriously freaked out about that class. I also got an "A" on my Pauline Letters final, not that it matters because I took that class for Credit/No Credit. The sermon I wrote for From Text to Sermon received several good comments and some constructive criticism. The professor didn't appreciate the humor I tried to interject. Oh well. I think he liked the thing for the most part because I got Credit for the sermon, and since I was there every class period and did everything required, I am assuming I got credit for the course. Really, I'm not worried about having failed anything. I'm fairly certain I did well this year. I'm happy with the academic work I did.

Many of my classmates have already hit the road for home, for CPE sites, or for wedding planning. I went to graduation this year because "J," who is no longer "just" my friend, but my boyfriend (officially since the Thursday before Easter), graduated. I'm so proud of him! He is so smart, he is so smart, S-M-R-T! I got to help for the Baccalaureate service as a communion assistant. The graduation ceremony was also quite nice. The pictures I took are less than stellar, but I never claimed to be a photographer. It was a good weekend, really. I pray God's blessings on all those who have graduated or who are otherwise leaving this place. I'm confident that God is working in them.

Tonight, J and I hung out a bit. We walked on a path near a body of water near here. It is quite lovely, really. It sprinkled just a bit, but I'm not a wicked witch who is bound to melt from a little water. We also had dinner and started watching Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi. We have been watching those movies because I'd not seen them before. I didn't think I would like them, but I really do. We got about halfway through the movie tonight, before we decided to finish it tomorrow or something. He has to wake up early for work, so hopefully he was able to fall asleep well. It was a really fun evening, though.

When I got home, I saw that I had a message from Sis. She told me a few various things in the message. She said Mom is getting even more violent and combative; so much so that the doctor at the Supermax is starting her on an anti-psychotic drug. I have mentioned before, but I think it bears repeating that Ma doesn't have Alzheimer's Disease. Rather, she has what is called "Vascular Dementia," aka Dementia without further differentitation, aka hardening of the arteries in her brain. The progression is a lot like the big A, but instead of the gradual decline in most Alz patients, the declines come for people with Ma's type in steps as different blood vessels get closed off in what are sort of like strokes. You can click here to see an overview of what dementia does to a person. Because it is so similar to Alzheimers, the symptoms/stages are pretty much the same, except for the way they come about. Here and here are places where there is some information on the symptoms of dementia, and this link discusses staging of Alzheimers Disease (and by extension, speaks to other sorts of dementia as well). It's disconcerting to see that Ma is moving more and more quickly toward the moderately severe (Stage 6) area. Even though AD and Vascular Dementia are not the same thing, they are quite similar. Similar enough, in my opinion (though I am not a doctor), to compare reasonably. Yikes. I keep praying for her to have peace. I'd appreciate your prayers for her, too. Thanks.

Violence is bad, mmkay?

2008-05-14T13:30:00.002-05:00

So, in talking with Sis, I have found out some new information. Sis called the home where Mom lives yesterday. She wanted to know how Mom got a big skin tear on her arm. I thought maybe Mom caught her arm on the door or something when she fell. It turns out that the REASON Ma fell is because she was in some other lady's room to say goodnight to her (the whole "Grandma" thing), and some nurse's aid was in there, maybe trying to get Mom to go to bed or something, when Ma decided to try to punch and kick the aid.

My mother is getting violent. First, there is that lady who she throws down with sometimes (we call that woman vinegar, and Ma Oil), and now she's getting narsty with the aids at the home. And, really, I think, anyone she doesn't know because she was giving some attitude to the nurses at the hospital. Thank goodness Pastor came in and was able to convince Ma they were trying to help.

Violence is a fairly new thing for Ma. She was always so meek. I mean, she'd swat us occasionally when we were kids if we were bad, but she was not really the disciplinarian of the family. It is scary to see her getting worse so quickly. Before this weekend, the last time I saw her, she still used "normal" words where they belonged, but she didn't make much sense. Now she is using words that don't belong and not making sense. And, when she's tired, she uses non-words. Just jibberish. And, she is getting violent. It just seems like she's going downhill fast. It's just a scary and frustrating thing.

Anyway, I guess I'm just trying to process through what is happening to her and what that means for her, my siblings, and me. Thanks for all your kind words and prayers and everything. I am very much appreciative. Peace to you all.

I don't care about a Title right now.

2008-05-12T11:22:00.002-05:00

Saturday night, Sis called me around 10:30 or so. Ma was going down the hall at the home to say goodnight to some lady she calls, "Grandma," when she turned, lost her balance, fell, and broke her hip. They took her to the hospital and Sis and YS called me from the Emergency Department. Thankfully, she didn't break the whole ball of her hip; just the piece that curves around. That meant that she didn't need a whole hip replacement.

So, when Sis called, I was on MSN talking with a seminary friend. I told her what happened after I hung up because I was conflicted on whether or not I should go home, considering this week is Finals Week. Friend asked me what my gut feeling about it was, and I said I wanted to go. It's good to have people help you sort through these sorts of things when your mind is going around in circles and it's hard to tell which way is up. So, I decided to go, and so I realized I would need to email my extended family and some of Ma's old friends to let them know this happened. I also thought it best to email the profs I have on Monday in case something were to go wrong, that way they would know why I was absent. I also txt messaged a friend here at the Castle. I was going to tell her I was going home and would not be riding to church the next day. She called and came right up, which was helpful. When she got here, I was pretty much babbling like an idiot, trying to compose the email to the profs. So, Friend typed it for me. She also helped me pack, making sure I didn't forget anything important.

Then, I headed out. Packing Friend texted me on the way, and so did another friend who was with Packing Friend when I told her what was up. The drive from Seminary to "home" is about 3 hours or so. It downpoured the WHOLE WAY HOME! I thought I was going to die a couple of times. But, I didn't, thankfully. I made it "home," and Sis got back from being with Ma at the hospital about ten minutes after I got there. Ma was actually talking in non-words that night. But then, Sis and I made plans about Sunday's surgery; what time to leave and what not. So, we went to sleep. I was able to go to church because Ma's surgery wasn't scheduled until at least 11:00 or so. So, I went to church, and I'm glad. Since it was Mother's Day, I figured Pastor and his wife and sons would have something planned, so I didn't expect to see him at the hospital. However, I needed some sort of Pastoral Care. I got it at "sharing the peace" time. Pastor came up to me and put his hand on my arm in the "hey, I'm with you" way. I'm not big on being touched, and I think he knows that in some way (body language), but I appreciated it on Sunday. I am, however, working on this "personal space" thing. I'm very grateful for the hugs and shoulder pats I've gotten today.

Sis, YS, YSB, and I then went to the hospital after church. Mom was sleeping because they had given her some morphine. She woke up for a few minutes and I tried to make a joke about how if she wanted us all to come home for Mother's Day, all she had to do was ask. She just kind of stared at me. No laugh or anything. That was really disappointing because my mom used to have a really good sense of humor. I think I'm funnier than she is, but I also believe that her influence helped shape my sense of humor. My older brother (the one who is cool) and his wife met us at the hospital a little while later. Mom was so out of it, so we just stayed in the lounge about 15 feet from her room. Then, they came and took Ma for surgery. Sis and I rode down the elevator with her to say goodbye, although we were kind of confused about what was happening. I was disappointed that the rest of the family didn't get to wish her well.

The surgery took about an hour and a half or two hours. When all was said and done, the doctor came out to talk to us. He told us that she would be able to bear weight on it today, even because they only had to replace the piece of bone she broke. He also asked about her dementia. I got to be the mouthpiece of the family because I am good at keeping those sorts of dates and timeframes in my head. When Mom first became unable to recall this sort of thing and Sis had to do it, they had me write down all of her diagnosis and surgery dates.

So, we got to go back up to the Med-Surg floor after about an hour to see her. She was totally out of it. She was wearing an oxygen mask. She has problems with her blood pressure after surgery, and I think they probably gave her the oxygen to help that, too. She slept the rest of the day. We stayed in the lounge until about 6:30 that night, but then decided to go because the nurse said she'd probably sleep the rest of the day and into tomorrow. While we had been waiting, I went in to check on her once to see if she was asleep and I just looked at her. She's so small and frail. She looks just like her mom did when she was in the throes of Alzheimer's, except my mom still has dark brown hair, with very minimal gray. She's too young to have to be dealing with this stuff.

Pretty much, we're waiting to see how bad the anesthesia and the stress on her body messed her up. She'd been getting worse before the fall, and so I'm not confident that things will be good for her. It's so disconcerting.

But, instead of staying to be with my family, I came back to the castle early this morning so I could take a final and what not. I am conflicted. But, I'm here now, so I might as well make the most out of it. I would appreciate so much if you would (continue to) keep Ma in your prayers. I so much want her to have some peace. Alright, so I need to go have some lunch. Bye.

Some Thoughts

2008-05-07T13:47:00.003-05:00

I was reading an article today in Christianity Today (the online version). The article is entitled, "A Little Office Humor Goes a Long Way." It speaks about how laughter is a gift from God, even though the Bible never explicitly says that Jesus laughed.

I for one, think that the mere fact that Jesus was a full human being means that, of course he laughed!

I think I've mentioned before that wherever I go, people tend to comment on my sense of humor, or my laugh, or the "impish michievousness right under my surface." The word, "impish" has actually been used multiple times to describe me. In a good way.

Anyway, I have been thinking about how laughter and a sense of humor is a spiritual gift. Sometimes I feel like I don't have enough "spiritual gifts," and I sell my sense of humor short. After all, what good does laughing REALLY do?

I think it does a world of good! When I am having a bad day or am feeling sad, a good laugh seems to reset me. Galatians 5:22-23 says, "By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, JOY, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (emphasis mine). Laughter can be a good signature that one is joyful. And to go hand in hand with this verse, I think that a sense of humor can show these other fruits of the Spirit. When a friend can make me laugh, that shows kindness to me. I feel like I have received a gift from their generosity of being able to use their wit and charm to make me laugh. Also, I am far more apt to laugh at something said by someone I like or love than I am to laugh through jokes or some random person's comments. And I feel at peace when I am laughing. I forget the stresses and tribulations of life, if only for a few minutes.

So, that being said, I think I am really beginning to believe that my sense of humor is indeed a good and "valid" spiritual gift. It is a hope of mine that my sense of humor and my laughter blesses the lives of others in some way. In reflecting on this, I remember a time last semester, I think, when we were sitting in class and it was getting too intense or we were all getting really bored or something (I don't remember the specifics of the situation), and I made some silly comment and the whole class started laughing. I was slightly afraid it was timed improperly, but later, friends said that we needed that right then.

Laughter is a good thing. Frederick Buechner once said that there is "laughter of faith." What I think he was talking about is that even in the midst of the "stuff" of life, we can laugh because of the hope we have in Jesus. We can trust in faith that the promises of God in Christ are not willy-nilly, but are firmly bonded in the steadfast character of God, the awesome one.

Be blessed, my friends. And laugh. See you.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/workplace/articles/leadership/alittleofficehumor.html

Cap'n Crunch!

2008-05-05T00:18:00.003-05:00

Are you ready kids?
Aye aye Captain!
I Can't hear yoU!
AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!

OOOOOOhhh, who has lots of seminary papers due!
TRISHY, TRISHY!
Burnt out, and fried up, and zombie is who?!
TRISHY, TRISHY!
If THEO BABBLE BE SOMETHING YOU WISH!
TRISHY, TRISHY
Then pay attention to this girl named Trish!
TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHEEEEEEEE!!
Dooododooodoodoo DO!

So... In case you couldn't tell, it's crunch time here at Seminary. I'm not really freaking out; I just wanted to stretch my rhyming/creative part of my brain. Yup. I have a sermon due tomorrow. I finished and started today, and am happy with it. I need the pressure... Seriously. I tried writing this thing a couple of days ago, but to no avail. I'm bad. Then, I have my big Systematic Theology paper due Tuesday. The paper part is done, but I have to finish my annotated bibliography, yet. I only have a few more articles and a book to write about. The big assignment I'm slightly concerned about is for Parish Worship. It's a group project. The only reason I'm stressin' is because I am very chill about this sort of thing and grades, but I don't want to mess up my group, ya know.. I like to be responsible when people are counting on me. But, seriously, it shouldn't be too big a deal. That's pretty much all that is "due" this week. Oh, and this thing for Pastoral Care, but I've had that done forever.

Next week is another big week though. We have our Pauline Letters final, a Systematic Theology final (we have conversations with small groups), a bulletin/paper for Parish Worship, and hmm... we also have to redo our four small Systematic Theology papers. Next week is going to be slightly more stressful. Ah well. I shall live. I promise.

It's almost summer. Peace to you all who are gearing up for summer activities, or who are going through finals and end of the year projects of your own. Keep ya chin up!

Random

2008-05-01T00:54:00.002-05:00

Well, it's 1:00 a.m. and I'm still up. I took a ridiculously long nap today, and so... here I am unable to sleep. Ah well. It was worth it. I was tired.

I think I am going to try to go to bed soon, though. I have a 7:30 a.m. class, and I'm also helping with communion tomorrow because it's Ascension Day! Yay Jesus!

Last but not least, I have Facebook, and I love the application, "Pieces of Flair." It's where you get a corkboard on your profile and you can add "buttons" to your board, either by yourself, or people can send them to you. There are a whole lot of REALLY funny ones. One that I was laughing at tonight (although I wouldn't put it on my board) is, "Ask Me About My Explosive Diarrhea." I'm a huge dork, but I don't care. Peace out, y'all.

A fix, too

2008-04-29T20:23:00.002-05:00

For my post about the Chapel Observation...

The Soli Deo Gloria setting was written BY Marty Haugen FOR Weston Noble for, like, the 50th anniversary of his leading the choir or something. My bad. We used that order of service again today, and I have to admit, I was laughing a little about the built in song when we got there. Maybe that's because I told some friends of my thoughts about it. Knowing that my musings may have been running through their heads at the same time they were running through my head is amusing to me.

However, I do have to say, the more I think about it, the less I like the particular song I'm thinking about. The verse us women folk sing basically says that we need protection and we need to be pure and spotless because we're women. And then, the men come in and sing all pretty much about male-power. Not overtly like that, and I thought perhaps I was being overly sensitive, but before I even said my thoughts regarding that, someone else brought it up. And I heard a couple more people talk about it today, too. So, I'm not alone in these, "This stuff is sexist!" thinking...

But, the rest of the service is quite lovely. It is one of my favorites, aside from that one song in there. And when there are people who are good at chanting/singing, it is made even better. So, with that, I'm out. It's Tuesday, and so a couple of us get together for Law & Order SVU and conversation, and perhaps some adult beverages. I think I finished my Systematic Theology paper today, but I still need to do a bunch of writing for the annotated bibliography that goes with it. I'm going to do some of that before I head down the hall. You all have a delightful evening.

Something that has been on my mind...

2008-04-29T20:06:00.003-05:00

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be a "valued leader" for God's mission in the Church and in the world. I think that all people are valued and valuable, so what exactly does it mean for us who are in seminary to be working toward becoming a valued leader? Valued by whom? And how are we going to quantify or qualify the amount of value we have?

Some of the people I think are extremely valuable are people that others might think are completely expendable, or troublesome.

Society likes to tell us that we are defined by what we do. When we meet someone for the first time, often one of the first questions asked is, "What do you do?" But more importantly, aside from simply saying that you are a student or an airline attendant, or a pastor, or a sanitation engineer, or whatever, I think this question is getting more at the question, "What do you find valuable?" Or it could even be asking, "Who do you find valuable?" For example, what would the difference in thought be if you were to meet someone who said they were a CEO at a Fortune 500 company and someone who works with the Peace Corps or Doctors without Borders or whatever? I'm not saying that all CEOs are heartless jerks, but to me, different "personalities" are conjured when I think of these two occupations.

Anyway, what I'm meaning to say is, "How can we be valued leaders if we do not value each and every single person who comes into our lives; even if 'only' on the periphery?" If I see a classmate or seminary mate who is obviously extremely upset about something that is a big "hot button" issue, do I sit back and play the political game by not identifying with or comforting my schoolmate, or do I reach out with compassion and grace? And if I do play it political style, what does that say about me? Especially if no one else is reaching out either. What is that saying TO the person who is upset? "You don't count because you are at the root of this problem!" is what I think it says. And that's unfortunate. Really, it's more than unfortunate; it's sad and it's disgraceful because Jesus Christ did not come targeting any specific group (except for sinners, which is all of us, friends).

How can we be valued leaders if we're not cultivating the ACTUAL practice of grace and compassion? If we're trying to "play the game" to the extent that we are not ministering to people, but we're ministering at our own discretion and for our own gain?

Maybe I'm being naive, but I'm just thinking that when I start letting people tell me who I can and cannot minister to, I'm becoming irrelevant. I reckon that I'm going to continue to pray for those who are marginalized, and pray that my own inadequacies and shortcomings might be brought to my attention so that I might work on addressing them. Peace out for now, y'all.

Chapel Observation

2008-04-23T17:15:00.003-05:00

Well, here at Seminary, we have chapel every weekday. To keep things lively, students are assigned to help out every week, under a faculty member. Also, each day generally has a typical order of service matched with it, and the people who plan worship pretty much do "Filler work," meaning they choose hymns and whether or not we chant or speak the psalm and what not.

On Tuesdays, we do the "Soli Deo Gloria" order of service, which is really quite lovely. I think that it was written by Weston Noble, the man who used to conduct the choir at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa. I'm not sure though, so don't quote me.

I've noticed something about this order of service that I think is amusing, though. The assembly sings a song that is built into the service, and in this song, there are 5 verses. Everyone sings the first two, women sing the third, men sing the fourth, and everyone comes back in to sing the fifth. This amuses me because when it is the women folk's turn to sing, it reminds me of that scene in "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," when the girl's school is introduced and they come in all fluttery like and say, "AHH" in their incredibly high-pitched voices. Then, the guys do their verse, and it's almost like when the boy's school comes in, pounding their sticks on the ground and marching.

I don't know; maybe you have to be there...

I'm not sure if I like the actual word break up of the song though, but that'll be a post for another day. I'm not feeling the greatest again, and even missed class today. I think I'm going to have a can of peaches and go lie down for a while. Peace out.