Around the Bend

just have to share this

2009-07-13T20:56:00.003-04:00

Heard this song on Prairie Home Companion, Sunday morning on the way to church.

Had to sit in my car and keep listening til it was over.

how to bike to work

2009-06-01T11:59:00.003-04:00

Saturday night. I tell all my friends about Michiana Bike to Work Week and encourage them to bike like me.
Sunday afternoon. I run out of time to fix my flat tire and accept Liz's gracious offer to use her bike on Monday.
Monday 6:30 AM. Wake up. It's thunderstorming. Guess I won't bike to work. Reset alarm for 7:00.
7:00 AM. Dress nice, do my hair, go downstairs for breakfast, look out window. It's not raining anymore.
Hesitate. Consider. Maybe if I leave right now I won't be late for work ...
7:35 AM. Skip breakfast, change clothes, pack work clothes in backpack, find bike lock, get Liz's bike out of garage, get on ... whoa. Liz's bike seat is really high. Can I ride it like this? Try again. No.
7:50 AM. Borrow Sarah's wrench and try to adjust Liz's seat. Don't really know how. Lower it by about a quarter of an inch. Try and try and try. Still won't work.
8:00 AM. I am supposed to be at work. Instead I am standing in my driveway in shorts, T-shirt, and bike helmet, staring at Liz's bike. Time invested in this project now makes it MANDATORY that I bike to work. Return Sarah's wrench, get my backpack on, and go.
Stop at first intersection. My feet can't touch the ground so I have to get off.
Cross street and get back on. All my fiddling with the seat now causes it to slant dramatically downward and I slide off. Push it back into place, get back on gently so as not to break the seat again.
Repeat those last two steps at every intersection. Hope that people in their cars aren't looking at me.
Finally make it to work. Change back into work clothes. Look in the mirror. Helmet hair is awful. I will be ugly for the rest of the day.
But at least I can say I biked to work today :)

National Day of Prayer

2009-05-11T21:09:00.003-04:00

Last Thursday was the National Day of Prayer. A few weeks ago I ran across a NDoP bookmark that listed seven things to pray for: Government, Military, Media, Business, Education, Church and Family.

What about the poor? What kind of nation doesn't pray for the poor?

So a few days ago I checked out the website and found that it was seven "centers of power" that they were praying for.

But that didn't make me feel better.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit ... those who mourn ... the meek ... those who hunger and thirst for righteousness ... the merciful ... the pure in heart ... the peacemakers ... those who are persecuted because of righteousness ..." (Matthew 5:3-10)

I mean, sure, we need to pray for those in power. I do. I will. But still - if there's a whole day to pray together as a nation -

what about the poor?

running music

2009-02-26T12:36:00.003-05:00

Two songs on my "running music" list that I am really enjoying right now ... the video for the first one is kind of annoying so just listen to the music ;)

Anyone have recommendations for more music to run to?

running prayers

2009-02-16T12:21:00.003-05:00

This is what I beg of the Lord on my way to the start of the Riverside trail ...

Lord, give me the strength and energy to run well today.
Give me the endurance to keep running even when it hurts. And then help me to have that endurance in every other part of my life.
Give me humility to handle being so slow and awkward.
Protect me from discouragement and help me always be joyful about running, since I know it is a gift from You.
Thank You for the body You have given me and for how well it works. Please help me to strengthen it so that I may be healthy for many years, to do Your work.

And Lord, in Your mercy, please let me run a ten-minute mile someday.

family time

2009-02-04T20:35:00.003-05:00

It's 8:00 at night but we ate early for the baby's sake, and it's winter-dark in the countryside far away from streetlights, so it feels like 10 PM. On and off all evening we've been watching a cheesy Anne Hathaway movie - by brother-in-law Craig and my nephew Benjamin put up with it quite gamely. It's taking all evening because we keep stopping - for laundry, for phone calls, for my sister's birthday celebration. Debi is turning older than she looks or feels or acts - she is liveliness itself - and Ben's new wife Vickie made her an amazing four-layer black forest cake, and I got to introduce the tradition of birthday honorings and tell Deb how she is the one who keeps all our extended family from losing track of one another. After we all embarassed her with honorings we went back to the princess movie, and that's where we are now, watching the credits in the living room. Actually, watching Pearl - Ben and Vickie's daughter, my great-niece. She is 14 months old and loves to dance. She bobs up and down, from the knees, and rocks back and forth with a penguin move from watching Happy Feet, and sometimes just shakes around in one place, just a tiny jubilant vibration.

I am waiting for the sorrow to kick in - sometime tomorrow probably - the only reason I am here in Liberty instead of South Bend is that our Aunt Pat passed away this weekend. I cried when I heard, and then switched from feeling to planning mode. I took the three bereavement days my job so generously gave me, plus a day for a holiday I worked, and hightailed it out of town after just one workday for the week. I guess there was no particular reason to take the fourth day - the funeral is tomorrow and I could have driven today and had plenty of time to be ready - but I just wanted to be home with family. We haven't spoken much of what comes tomorrow, all we've really done is spend time together. I went to work with Deb today. Ben took me down the road to see the house that he and Craig are building for him and Vickie and Pearl. And we all have spent a lot of time watching Pearl dance.

I've felt guilty having fun here because I feel like I should be sad, but what else is there to do? You lose a part of the family, all you can do is - be family. All you can do is keep living and loving. One of my favorite Jack Johnson lyrics is: "Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart - like why are we here, and where do we go, and how come it's so hard?" Here's another Jack Johnson song I've been thinking of this week - it doesn't fit the situation exactly, but says things pretty well ...

hello from God

2009-01-23T12:34:00.003-05:00

Thursday morning. Running late for work. Why is this guy in front of me driving so slowly? These roads are awful, I can't believe they haven't plowed this yet. Use your turn signal, jerk!

Red light. Slam the brakes.

A block up, on the left, a flock of birds bursts like fireworks from the top of a building. Paints a dramatic curve across the sky. Loops back to the building where more birds join in. The avian ensemble twists back and forth, performing gorgeously, passionately, in a long swinging rhythm, never leaving my line of sight. I am transfixed. My heart is quieted, my hands unclenched.

At the very moment the light turns green, the birds settle gently back down on the building. The sky and the road are clear.

dear Mr. President

2009-01-20T16:58:00.002-05:00

Dear Mr. President -

Of course I got teary-eyed at your inauguration. I was actually running errands at the time so I listened to it on my car radio, but there I was in the parking lot of Hobby Lobby, hearing your first words as President, and sitting there a few extra minutes to listen, which I shouldn't have done because I didn't have much time and I ended up ten minutes late to work which made for a frustrating start to the afternoon - but I could hear in your words, and in your voice, the hope and passion that inspired so many of my friends and coworkers to vote for you.

I have to be honest, though, you didn't get my vote. Neither did McCain, actually. As a Catholic pro-life pacifist I don't quite feel represented in politics, ever. So I cast my votes for some local races and left the President part blank. I remember feeling a little awestruck in the dim room where I voted, looking at your name and McCain's, printed so starkly on the paper. I knew then, and I know now, that this moment is historic. I can feel it in my bones today, now that you've been sworn in - a curious, excited, apprehensive waiting. Where will we go from here? Where will this new leader lead us?

I know that you just don't get it about abortion, and that pains me. I am pretty concerned about what's next for unborn children, and I am going to be praying hard that somehow you receive the grace to understand what abortion really is. Because I think you've probably heard all the best arguments out there, and haven't been persuaded yet. So all we can do is pray for grace.

Apart from abortion, I'm kind of excited to see what you come up with. Is there really a way to solve the healthcare problem in America? Can we find a better way to teach our children? Can we do more to use our resources responsibly? Will we ever see the hardest workers in our country earn a living wage?

I'm kind of excited about all that. But let me tell you what I'm really excited about: Shreveport, Louisiana and South Side Indianapolis, Indiana. I forget about this sometimes when I listen to too much political stuff on the radio, but I just don't think the world is truly going to be changed by Washington, D.C. I think it will be changed by my friends.

Does that sound ridiculous? I guess it does. I guess it might be ridiculous. But seriously, Mr. President, you should see it in these neighborhoods. People are suffering there - from poverty, sickness, addiction, hatred, you name it. But here's what's happening - my friends are living there, and bringing Christ, and doing really concrete things like building houses, and teaching children, and building businesses, and showing love. And it's really changing things. People are being freed from the chains they've been in for years. Decades. That's what changing the world means.

You were a community organizer so I bet you're familiar with the principle of subsidiarity - that things ought to be handled on the lowest possible level. That's part of Catholic social teaching and I really think it's true - I guess because I think that real human interaction, and relationships, and love, are the only things that can really change someone's life. Better systems and policies are great, and I know a lot of people who rely on the safety nets that the government has in place, but when it comes down to it, a single mother's life is not going to be changed by the President, but by her next-door neighbor.

So even though my eyes were damp at noon today, and even though I will worry and hope and pray during your presidency, much more of my worry and hope and prayer and energy will be with my friends. And I'll keep hoping that more people will turn their eyes away from D.C. and toward their own neighborhoods. It's been cool to see people get excited about you, Mr. President, but it would be cooler to see them all change the world themselves.

Gotta go. I'm on my break but it's my late shift at the homeless shelter tonight, and I have a lot of work to do. Best of luck, Mr. President. You'll be in my prayers.

this photo ...

2008-12-29T21:46:00.001-05:00

The final group
Originally uploaded by justinw

... is now up with the family photos at my mom's house. I was beyond delighted to see it up there! I guess since I am on my way to being the last one of my generation to get married and/or have kids, this is a good way for me not to look lonely among all the spouse & children photos ;) Now I want to bring all my friends home to meet my mom! Though we wouldn't all fit in my mom's house ;)

I heard the bells ...

2008-12-23T18:32:00.002-05:00

In lieu of an actual post, here are the words to a Christmas song that I just noticed for the first time this year. I am particularly moved by the last two verses. Enjoy!

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

running update

2008-11-07T19:57:00.003-05:00

Thanks for the encouraging words many of you shared after the last post ...

Five days before the race I caught a cold at work. Remembering last winter's killer cold I stayed home on Wednesday (well, after pushing pushing pushing through Tuesday) just to rest up and prevent things from becoming bad. Then I lived normal life - running myself ragged with work and household and YA group and whatever else came my way - both Thursday and Friday. Saturday morning at 3:00 and 4:00 and 5:00 I woke and worried, half-awake, that I wouldn't be able to run the race, and wondered whether I even ought to try.

But of course I tried anyway.

I ran the 5K (about 3 miles) and came in with a time around 37 minutes. I don't know the exact numbers because they don't have the results posted online, but whatever. I did not come in last. Hooray! I think I did come in last in my age group (translation: all the women around my age ran faster than I did). I also am pretty sure that I did NOT beat my 10K pace. But, whatever, I was sick. I am not super-excited about my results but at least I got rid of the burning "I have to do another race" feeling.

This past week, though, I watched the movie "Spirit of the Marathon," a documentary about six people (two pros, four amateurs) running the Chicago marathon. Man, I was wiping away tears at the end, watching them cross the finish line ...

I have very small goals right now. I plan to run once a week through the winter and I hope to improve my 5K time. (I want to feel good about my 5K before going back to the 10K). Looking at this year's Sunburst results, it looks like I could put myself in the top 50% of the women's 5K if I could run it in 32 minutes. It will be hard but I think I can do it. If I work hard at it all winter.

This year, improve my 5K. Then maybe another year and I will run a respectable 10K time. Maybe then a half-marathon. (Or maybe not.) Maybe someday a marathon. (Or maybe not.) As much as I hate running - I really do sometimes - maybe even most of the time - there's really something intoxicating about simply doing something hard. Or maybe it's the measurement that attracts me - I have no concrete way to tell if I am improving at social work or household or friendship or prayer or anything else I strive for - but with running it is there in minutes and seconds for me to see, that I am improving, and that I can improve even more. It feels almost indulgent to carve out a part of my life for it, but I think it's a gift from the Lord - I think he sits back and smiles to see us all running around and using the amazing bodies he gave us.

So anyway, that's the end of the racing season for now. I'll try to post now and then about training during the winter, but as for races - I'll see you there in the spring ...

zeal (running the race)

2008-10-27T12:45:00.004-04:00

This post is all about running, and all about the Kingdom.

I wasn't exactly looking forward to the Fall Frolic - mostly looking forward to it being over. Training is hard. It takes a lot of time, and it doesn't always - scratch that, it doesn't very often at all - feel very good. I don't have a lot of experience with the "runner's high" yet. Not sure if I think it exists. So even though I've had some good training moments in the past few months - discovered that if I only ran a mile I could do so in ten minutes, wow! - overall I was tired of dragging myself out to the Riverside trail to buffet my body two or three times a week.

But race day is always fun, and the morning of the Fall Frolic was bright and crisp, and I was surrounded by friends. Until the gun went off to start the race. Then my friends sped ahead - they're really good runners - and I ambled along like a turtle with some other slow runners. OK, not a turtle, but kinda slow. Slow is OK right?

Slow is OK until everyone passes you. I mean everyone. By mile two, I had lost sight of all my fellow runners. I could hear the bicyclist about ten feet behind me, bringing up the rear of the 10K crowd, making sure no one got lost or collapsed. Finally I turned around and jogged backwards and asked him if he could just come up and bike parallel with me so at least I would have someone to talk to. Thank God for this guy, I mean literally, what a blessing he was to me. He humored me and kept talking for the next four miles, talking about his work, his family, the book that he wrote, Notre Dame sports, anything. I don't know if I could have finished the race without him.

So I did finish. Peter and Sarah and Daniel and Bridget all walked back from the finish line to run me in, and I finished at 1:15 or so - ten minutes faster than I'd run a 10K before!!! But still in last place. Then we hung out waiting for the awards to be passed out. Almost every one of my friends won a medal. Because they are great runners! And I was truly happy for them, but at the same time truly very sad to be so far behind them in skill, and to work so hard and improve so much and then still be so embarrassingly far behind everyone else in the whole race. Gosh, writing about it, I am still sad. Getting over it, but sad.

So anyway, prior to race day, I'd decided the Fall Frolic would definitely be the last race of the year for me. I was sick and tired of training. I just wanted to take my life back and wait until spring to run again. But ... I couldn't end the year with a race like this one. I couldn't just come in last and leave it at that.

So I'm back in training again. Granted, only for a short while - the next race is this weekend, only two weeks after the Frolic - and to be honest, my chances of coming in "not-last" are no better in this race. Probably worse, actually, because it's a very small run. But I just have to do it. It's a determination I haven't really felt before. I can't quit now, I have to keep trying to get better.

So here's the important part of this story. This weekend on the PoP women's retreat, we talked about zeal, and having zeal for building the Kingdom, and 1 Corinthians 9:24 was cited frequently - here it is in the Message translation:

"You've all been to the stadium and seen the athletes race. Everyone runs; one wins. Run to win. All good athletes train hard. They do it for a gold medal that tarnishes and fades. You're after one that's gold eternally. I don't know about you, but I'm running hard for the finish line. I'm giving it everything I've got. No sloppy living for me! I'm staying alert and in top condition. I'm not going to get caught napping, telling everyone else all about it and then missing out myself."

I joked throughout the weekend that it's not true that only one wins - it's actually several in each age category. Hahaha. But here's the thing - because I came in last (really really last) in the Fall Frolic, and because of this Scripture during the retreat, I understand now what "zeal" means. I didn't understand before, because I didn't have zeal when I was just discovering my own (minimal) ability to run, and thanking God for my body working, and enjoying doing something healthy, etc. That was all really good. But I never had this attitude of I am going to do better at this if it kills me. I am NOT satisfied being last and once I come in not-last, I will only be a little bit satisfied, because I -

(fingers frozen while I wonder if I am actually going to commit this to words)

- I am not really going to be satisfied until I win a medal. Which will probably be at least a couple years from now, and that's probably optimistic. But I am not hitting backspace right now, and the goal is out there for all of you to see, I will win a medal someday.

So what about the Kingdom?

If zeal for running causes me to set a foolish goal like winning a medal then I am almost afraid to see where zeal for Christ could take me. (Where it could take us. As a community.) But it's an exhilarating thought. I'm building the Kingdom at a pretty comfortable pace right now. What would it be like to build the Kingdom until it started to hurt? Until I couldn't breathe anymore? Until I started to feel dizzy? What would it be like to build the Kingdom until I was exhausted and then just keep going? What medals are out there to be won for the Kingdom? And what kind of training do I need to do to win them? A day or two after the Frolic I went to the library to get books on running and I pored over them, searching for ways to do better. Do I read Scripture like that - hungry for guidance, eager to follow what it says, anxious to get there and do it and see the results?

Psalm 69:9. "Zeal for your house consumes me."

Come, Lord Jesus!

a fact and a promise

2008-09-10T20:29:00.004-04:00

"Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." - Mt. 10:39

Recently I was asked to leave my women's group and area, to head up a new women's group in a different area. For a few days after being asked, I couldn't even think about it. My women's group means the world to me - every Monday night I am so eager to hear what's been going on with them - the ups and downs of family life, the ideas they've been pondering, what they think about the latest community event, what they think about the world. Women's group discussions have shaped how I perceive and experience the community. We frequently have to tear ourselves away from the conversation at the end of the night. Between Mondays I jump at any opportunity to spend time with them and share in their lives, whether it's dinner with their family, or giving one of their kids a ride to an activity, or seeing them at a concert. I would venture to say my women's group is the biggest part of how I live community, the deepest and richest connection I have to the branch. So how could I leave it?

Last weekend I finally took a deep breath and sat down to discuss this issue with the Lord. And I couldn't help but start crying. "Lord," I asked, "why do you want me to lose everything?" And the Lord replied, "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."

The notes in my Bible explain Mt. 10:39 like this: "One who denies Jesus in order to save one's earthly life will be condemned to everlasting destruction; loss of earthly life for Jesus' sake will be rewarded by everlasting life in the kingdom."

Well, I don't really think this verse is just about heaven and salvation and martyrdom. I think it's also about life on earth, life in the here-and-now Kingdom of God.

The first part is a fact. Whoever finds his life will lose it. Do you know anyone who has achieved his or her perfect life and just stayed there forever? I don't. You find your life - you find blessings, you get settled, you are satisfied with what the Lord has given you - and then something changes. It always will. Maybe you have to change jobs, or move to a new city. Maybe a loved one passes away. Maybe you get sick. The point is, every time you find your life, you will eventually lose it.

But here's the promise. If you lose it for the Lord's sake, you will find it again. If you see an opportunity to serve or glorify the Lord in some way, and to do so means losing your life ... well, you were going to lose your life at some point anyway. But losing it for the Lord's sake will inevitably cause you to find it, because serving the Lord always brings life.

So I had found my life. Quite a life it was, with five wonderful women that I love dearly, in an area that I loved so much too. But I would have to lose it sometime, and this is an opportunity to serve the Lord, so I'm going to do it.

Disclaimer: all this is not to say that my new women's group and area are anything to be sad about. This will be at least my tenth time changing women's group and the third area I will have lived in (plus campus division), and each new situation has had great blessings, and I am looking forward to it! The girls I'll be in WG with now are DELIGHTFUL and I can't wait to get to know them better - can't wait to get to know the others in the area either. So all the sadness I had to work through was certainly not because of what I was going to - it was just because of what I was losing.

And I'm still sad to lose my WG and my area. But the clarity with which the Lord responded to my sadness brought it home for me very concretely that He is with me, and that it's His adventure that I am choosing. And I know that in this adventure I will find my life. Alleluia!

somewhere out there

2008-08-15T23:40:00.002-04:00

Out late tonight taking care of things, I saw the nearly-full moon and wondered who else of my friends and family might be seeing the same thing ...

off the trail

2008-08-03T09:00:00.004-04:00

I have never thought of myself as much of a rule-breaker. But sometimes it's just irresistible ... The day after the race, we went to visit Munising Falls. They're very pretty! We stood on the platform at the end of the trail, took some nice photos of the falls, read the signs about "don't leave the trail, falling rock, erosion, blah blah blah", and then we hopped the fence and walked over to the falls. Let me tell you, it's a much cooler experience standing underneath the waterfall than looking at it from the platform. Standing on the platform, I was an observer of nature; standing underneath the falls I was part of nature.

We had a little more off-trail fun on our way back from the falls - there was a terrific mossy ledge on the side of a hill that was just begging to be the background for some group photos. Over the fence we went again. This was one of those moments when it was crucial to have friends around - friends who are better at climbing up mossy hillsides off the side of the trail - I may have chickened out if they hadn't been there to show me the right footholds and lend me a hand to grab onto.

We spent the entire next day at Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. One of the highlights was Miner's Castle, a sandstone formation that used to have two castle-esque turrets - now it has just one - but it is still a gorgeous sight to see, perched on the edge of Lake Superior. After the Castle we hiked around to Miner's Falls, which was even prettier than Munising Falls. What a pity that the viewing platform was at the top of a steep rocky-looking hill and we couldn't possibly climb over ... then I saw someone climb over. I can't remember who went first. Even after the first person went, I hesitated - it just didn't look do-able - but after a few moments I knew I would regret it if I didn't climb down.

The climb didn't turn out to be too bad, and it could have been ten times worse and still worth it. [Sheila pauses for several moments trying to figure out how to describe the Miner's Falls experience to her readers. A picture is worth a thousand words, so she gives up and just uploads a couple more photos.]
Later at another waterfall I decided I could not possibly follow my friends across the rushing stream since they crossed on a fallen log that looked really unsteady. Then I climbed down the bank and crossed on the unsteady log and had a great time at the top of the waterfall. Overall, some of the best moments of this trip happened off the trail. And if I hadn't been there with my adventurous friends I wouldn't have had nearly so much fun. Thanks, guys.

on the trail

2008-08-01T11:47:00.004-04:00

Our vacation to the Munising, on the shores of Lake Superior, in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, was so wonderful I barely know how to tell you about it - but I'll try. Here's part 1:

The inspiration for the trip was the Grand Island Trail Run. Justin, Kyle, Pete, & Pete ran the marathon and the rest of us spent the weekend in awe of the fact that those guys really ran 26.2 miles. Sarah H. and I ran a measly 6.2 miles. I am proud to say I came in 158th out of 170, but the more significant fact is that I had a GREAT time running it. I came into the weekend confident in my decision not to run any more 10Ks after this one: training had been difficult, the Sunburst was awful, it just seemed like 5Ks were probably more my thing. But then I ran the Grand Island 10K. I felt great, the weather was wonderful, I listened to some excellent music along the way ... two highlights of the actual run:

1. At one point my running synced up with my music perfectly so that the inspiring song I was listening to came to a powerful crescendo just as I ran out from under a canopy of trees into a bright golden clearing filled with wildflowers. Gee whiz, was that beautiful.

2. One of the songs on my "running" playlist was "Whatever It Is" by Ben Lee - check out the lyrics here - this song is important to me as a runner for two particular phrases: "Are you changing/Do you know it, do you feel it" and "Awake is the new sleep/so wake up/wake up". It was awesome to be running through the woods on this gorgeous island remembering all the changes that brought me there, and feeling how awake my body was - that's what I've experienced as I've become a soccer player and a runner: that my body woke up to an entirely new part of life. I was so grateful to be doing what I was doing.

So now that I have had one awesome 10K, I am pretty sure I am going to keep doing 10Ks. One reason is that I felt pretty good after this race, barely sore at all. That actually makes me want to run faster and/or farther because the way my legs felt after the first time I ever ran 6 miles, in training, was the most beautiful pain I've ever felt, like my legs were screaming yes! We're growing! Keep doing this! So if I feel fine after a run that probably means I haven't worked hard enough ;) So now I am eager to run the Salmon Chase and the Fall Frolic (we discussed possibly frolicking that whole race, like skipping or jumping rope for 6 miles) to see how much faster I can go. If I really can go faster, which - well, we'll see how it goes. And maybe in the future I will run even farther than 6 miles ...

One last delight of the running experience this weekend was that we managed to convince Christine (one of the Minnesota gals who came camping) that she should begin running too. All she had to do was tentatively express an interest and that was it - we spent the rest of the weekend talking to her about it. I told her all my "didn't think I could do it but by the grace of God I could" stories and took her for a mile(ish) run around the campground Monday morning. It's like a cult or something ;)

Stay tuned for more chapters of our UP vacation stories ...

(ps how do you like my random bolding?)

a short story of household and neighborliness

2008-07-31T12:25:00.002-04:00

Last night was my night to cook. I whipped up a quick frittata with whatever leftovers I could find, made a small salad with our home-grown zucchini and tomatoes, and pulled out some bread. Just a simple weeknight dinner during a very busy week. A few minutes before 6:00, my household and I were about to sit down to eat when the doorbell rang. Our next-door neighbor, who is suffering from Alzheimer's, and her husband walked in and thanked us for inviting them over to dinner ...

... which we hadn't. Of course we've had them over many times before, so it wasn't a strange idea, it's just that we've all been on vacation and this was the first dinner our household has had together in a month. So we were pretty sure we hadn't invited anyone over.

But the Lord provides! We quickly masked any surprise and Anne B. accompanied me to the kitchen where I fried up some potatoes and broke out the pre-made cookie dough we miraculously had in the fridge, and Anne sauteed some squash and added more lettuce to the salad. We set two extra places without anyone noticing, then brought everyone in to the dining room for a lovely meal.

It may not have been the feeding of the five thousand, but it was clear that the Lord provides. I was so thankful for what we, as a household, are able to do and to be for these neighbors. What other Alzheimer's patient could show up unexpectedly for a dinner she "remembered" being invited to and be welcomed like this? I wouldn't fault anyone for gently saying, "I'm sorry, dear, we hadn't planned on having you tonight. Maybe we can plan this for another time." But because we work smoothly as a household - able to expand a meal at a moment's notice, without stress - and because we share the desire to be Christ to our next-door neighbors and to love them the best that we can - we were really able to be a blessing to them, and to be blessed by their presence.

Praise God.

camping

2008-07-09T12:39:00.003-04:00

Just a few words about camping up at Warren Dunes. The days on the beach were nice - lounging around, reading, swimming, sleeping, eating "sand"wiches - but it was the mornings and evenings I liked best. Morning: waking to sunlight, getting up slowly, eating eggs cooked on the campfire, lazily getting ready for the beach. Also, our last morning there a couple of us went for an early morning swim, and it was so delightful to float around without tons of other people there. Evening: dinner at the picnic table, then off to enjoy the beauty of the earth. Friday night we climbed what I affectionately call the "dune of death" and watched fireworks miles away all around us. We could even see way across the lake to Chicago. Amazing. And Saturday night, after an improvised Lord's Day (nine people around the campfire trying to remember all the LD prayers), we sat on the beach and watched the sunset. Overall, a wonderful weekend with wonderful friends.

stream of life

2008-07-08T20:02:00.003-04:00

TJ posted an awesome video on his blog the other day, and the gorgeous song from the video has been in my head since I heard it. It's called "Praan," by Garry Schyman, and it's based on a Bengali poem:
_______________________________
Stream of Life
by Rabindranath Tagore

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
_____________________________

The song is beautiful even without translation, but I like it even more after reading this poem. These words remind me of how I feel about water ... just this weekend while camping up at Warren Dunes (for the Pennsylvanians reading this, that's a beach and state park on Lake Michigan) I was telling Beka about why I love being in the water. I told her, it sounds kind of new-agey, but I feel like it brings some kind of balance or peace to me to be in the lake or the ocean, to have the water in my body rock in the same rhythm with the waves rocking over the earth . I know, I know, it sounds like I'm about to start talking about the Earth Mother or something, but really, the Lord created a beautiful world, and he created it for us to enjoy. This is how I most enjoy it.

one week in Shreveport

2008-07-07T12:07:00.003-04:00

So after my adventures getting to Shreveport, I spent a week there working and sweating and having fun. Some highlights ...

... I stayed with Mary C., a member of the Shreveport branch, who was so incredible welcoming. I felt bad that I didn't have more time to hang out and chat with her but we did a lot of chatting during the 20 or so waking minutes I spent with her at the beginning and end of each workday.

... the first night I got there we did some missionary work - visiting nursing homes in Shreveport. We split up to different places and I went to Harmony House. Most, but not all, of the people there are mentally ill in one way or another. I've seen enough mental illness not to be fazed by it, at least not much, but the high-schoolers that I was with were a little freaked out by the lady who proclaimed that she was Jesus. After that incident (five minutes into the trip), the big group of us split up into pairs and trios to knock on doors and pray with people. My little group was especially touched by two elderly people who prayed over us. Another memory I personally took away from the evening is of one particular guy whose door I felt moved to knock on - it was partially open and when I glanced in as we walked down the hallway, I saw him curled up on his bed just looking so lonely. "My heart went out to him" is such a cliche but that's the only way to say it. We went in and asked him if he wanted prayers for anything; he tried to talk a little but we couldn't understand anything he said so we just prayed the best we could.

... during the days I did a lot of throwing cement. (Or was it concrete? What is the difference? This was a major topic of discussion during the week.) The PoP business in Shreveport - Windows, Doors, & More - AKA WDMO, pronounced "Widmo" - needed to get ride of some cement in the back of their property. They got it broken up and then sent a lot of us over there during the week to pick up these big old chunks of cement and throw them into the truck to be taken to the dump. One afternoon we actually loaded the truck up with so much cement that it became un-drivable and someone had to unload some of that cement the next day. Sad but also super-cool that we worked that hard! Throwing cement was really hard work. Which is exactly what I'm looking for when I'm in Allendale. Lots of sweat and sore muscles = major satisfaction.

... some of the work down there did not involve major sweat and sore muscles, and was much less satisfying, at least for me. I spent two mornings working with camp. I'm not naturally a camp person and it was really hard. The girls didn't always pay attention or follow directions, and in some situations that was really understandable, especially for the littlest ones (like age 3), but at the same time, no matter how understandable it is, it still means chaos, and what do you do with that? And the other thing was that one morning two of the girls just randomly decided to pick on a third and I just couldn't get them to stop! What a terribly frustrating, helpless feeling. I ended up spending quite a while sitting with the picked-on girl on a rocking chair away from the other girls, helping her finish her craft, and hopefully helping her feel loved and valued. I came away from the whole camp experience really wanting to get better at working with kids in this type of environment, but unsure how to do that. Since getting back to work I've found out there's a good chance my job description will change drastically within the next few months and I will work with children and not adults. Bring it on.

... other work included digging a drainage ditch underneath one of our houses on Yale (by the way, when digging into Louisiana clay underneath a house, the claw of a hammer is more effective than a shovel), and drilling holes into the seats of the stools the campers made. The first day that I worked on drilling, the drill was not my friend, and I became extremely frustrated. So the next day when I was given a stack of 15 more seats to drill, I said a quick prayer, and had no problems. Praise the Lord :)

... what a great time getting to know the high-schoolers. I was impressed with the girls' openness when we talked about prayer one evening, and the guys' great leadership instincts, and how hard all of them worked.

... but I also hung out a lot with the grownups - Patti and Gerry D., Jack and Haidy B., Susan H., Bruce B. ... they all tended to gather at the same table on the porch of the big house for breakfast and lunch, and that was pretty much my favorite place to eat too. All of these people were super-funny and I had a great time with them.

... I also laughed a lot with Laura, Abby, and Gianna. Thursday night we played the best game of Catch Phrase EVER. And Laura made me laugh pretty much the entire week. One day when I called her old cell phone number, without knowing it was old, I ended up talking to her mom in Minnesota and was delighted to be able to tell her how much fun her daughters are.

... Friday night Nathan talked about friendship - friendship with purpose, lifelong friendship, etc. - and I've been thinking about friendship ever since. More thoughts on this later.

... I was happy to learn that the 17-hour drive from Shreveport to South Bend is a lot easier when you have a relief driver! And more fun too. I got to know Susan H. a lot better and she taught me some songs - a great way to keep both of us awake and entertained.

I would tell you more but this blog post is already awfully long, and also I'm blogging on my lunch break which is almost over and I haven't had time to eat. Please excuse me if anything above doesn't make sense, because I don't have time to read through it again either ;)

The end.

south bend to shreveport

2008-07-01T08:56:00.002-04:00

The first part of my trip to Shreveport, LA was ... the actual trip. To save Action Division $150 or so, I decided to take an Amtrak train rather than fly. I'd done it before - it's long, but do-able. My train was set to leave Chicago at 1:45, so I decided to take the 11:40 South Shore from South Bend to Chicago, leaving me "plenty of time" - 45 minutes - to get from the South Shore station to the Amtrak station and onto my train.

But then the South Shore was late.

I've never had trouble with the South Shore before so I didn't plan for any delays. But as 11:40 became 11:45, then 11:50, and the train wasn't there yet - when it became 12:05 and we were just leaving - I started to realize I was in trouble. I spent the entire South Shore ride panicking, and calling Amtrak to see if there was any other train I could take to Shreveport, and calling Anne B. for help ... in the end, 1:45 came before I even got off the South Shore, and when I finally did reach Chicago, I just hauled my luggage out to the sidewalk and sat down on some steps, because I had no place to go. The next train to Shreveport would be a full day later. It was a pretty weird feeling, surrounded by hundreds of people I don't know, feeling tiny amongst these tall buildings, and just not knowing what I was going to do next.

But fear not, the Lord and the People of Praise will never leave me alone! Back in South Bend, Anne B. was calling everyone and their brother to figure out who I could stay overnight with in Chicago. And praise God! Megan F. is the daughter of Bill and Elena, good friends of Dan & Anne's, and she's also a fellow ND graduate. We'd met a couple times and she's a really neat girl. Within about fifteen minutes of my arrival in Chicago, Megan called me to tell me how to get to her apartment. Within an hour of my arrival I was settled in at her place, completely taken care of.

I made some calls to inform Action of my status, Patti D. said exactly what I needed to hear at that moment: "Are you SO FRUSTRATED? I wonder what the Lord's plan is in all this."

For the record - I don't think the Lord planned for me to spend 24 hours in Chicago. I think I planned things too tight and didn't leave enough time for unexpected circumstances. But once I reconciled myself to the fact that I was not going to get to Shreveport on time, I took Anne's advice to just enjoy Chicago, and once I made that decision, the Lord just threw delights at me.

Megan was going to be out for the evening so she gave me a spare key and advice on where to get dinner. It was a lovely night in Chicago so I strolled down the road, ate a delicious dinner out in the sunshine while reading a good book, visited a chocolate shop, watched a DVD at Megan's place, got a call from South Bend friends who just wanted to cheer me up, finished the book, and got a solid, lovely night of sleep.

The most precious detail of the evening for me, though, is that for several months I've been wanting to paint my toenails, since it's sandal weather, and up til I left for Shreveport I had been so darn busy that I hadn't had time. That had actually been my marker for myself of how ridiculously busy life had become - that it was late June and I didn't even have my toenails painted. So my unexpected visit to Chicago gave me that time. I stopped by a drugstore after dinner and then while I watched the movie, I painted my toenails a lovely red. Now that I am home, life is very very busy again, but I am so comforted by the fact that my toenails are painted.

The loveliness continued Sunday morning - I got to go to breakfast and Mass with Megan and we had lots of time to chat. She works with the disabled and I work with the homeless and we're both really interested in each other's work and in our different experiences working in the nonprofit world. It was so lovely - Megan was the perfect person to stay with.

Then I got back on the El, and got to the Amtrak station, and got on my train. Hooray!

The story of the actual train ride is much less interesting. I will say that one small downside to my lovely time in Chicago was that with one book finished, I had only one left for the 20-hour train ride, and it only took me three or four hours to finish. Boo! Fortunately while I was in Chicago I picked up a copy of StreetWise and it included a crossword and a Sudoku ... and since I am terrible at Sudoku that kept me busy for a long long time.

The Amtrak train was delayed too, due to the Midwest flooding, but that was OK. It took me to Longview, TX, then a bus took some of us to Shreveport, where due to poor sleep quality on the train, I became incredibly dismayed by the fact that we got dropped off someplace different then I remembered from my other train trip to Shreveport. But Susan H. and Joan P. managed to find me and take me to Allendale ... and that's where I will leave things for now.

Until the next time I find a moment to blog ...

my keys and what they mean to me

2008-06-18T11:52:00.003-04:00

Honda Civic. This is my key to freedom. If I want to, I can at any time take to the open road and drive anywhere on the continent. Usually "anywhere" is home to Pennsylvania or a road trip with friends - but at anytime I could just drive to the coast and hang out on the beach ...

Bike Lock. This is me being environmentally conscious and physically fit. It's also another kind of freedom, cruising through the streets of South Bend, obeying stoplights only when there's someone around ;) It also makes me feel more rooted in this place, getting to know the city better, having more time to notice the houses and businesses and people on my way to and from work.

Choir soundboard. This is competency - getting all the mics set up before Mass, making sure everything is balanced. In reality I just barely know how to work the board - it usually doesn't need much adjusting - but being the one with the key makes me feel like I know what I am doing.

House(hold) key. This is belonging. This is not my house but it is my home, there to keep me warm and safe, and where we live life in common.

Work keys. These have a lot of different meanings for me. Responsibility, when I am unlocking doors to evacuate the family dorm during a fire drill. Authority, when a shelter guest needs my permission and my key to get into the kitchen or someplace. Ownership - this is my place, I know how things work here.

Soccer keys. These almost always give me a sense of gratitude, for being able to have soccer at our second home, the Center, and also a continuing sense of wonder that I am a soccer player. If I have the keys that must mean I am there almost every Sunday night - that's just crazy ;)

Anyone else have keys that have meanings for you?

just a song i like right now

2008-06-10T20:53:00.000-04:00

I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford

I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby
Temptations lose their power
When Thou art nigh

I need thee, oh, I need thee, every hour I need Thee
I need thee, I need thee, I need Thee every hour

I need Thee every hour in joy or pain
Come quickly and abide or life is in vain
I need Thee, oh, I need Thee, every hour I need Thee
I need Thee, I need Thee, I need Thee every hour
I need Thee, I need Thee, I need Thee every hour

Oh, bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee
Oh, bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee
I need Thee every hour, teach me Thy will
And Thy rich promises in me fulfill

I need Thee, oh, I need Thee
Oh I need Thee every hour
I need Thee, I need Thee, I need Thee every hour
I need Thee, I need Thee, I need Thee every hour

Oh, bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee

Sunburst: the good, the bad, and the funny

2008-06-02T12:13:00.004-04:00

Let's start with the bad first, to get it over with.

I felt pretty bad (physically) for the entire 10K run and did a ton of walking, which I just didn't want to do. I don't know if it was the heat & humidity, or what, but I just couldn't keep up.
This is only my second race but during my first one, last November, Nora ran with me (a great sacrifice for her - she could have gone 50% faster without me!). I didn't have anyone to run with this time, and couldn't even find other friends doing the 10K to stand with at the start time, and that was lonelier than I expected.
I also didn't expect how sad it would be to be so far behind the pack. There were 840 people running the 10K but for parts of the race I was around only two or three other people. Makes it feel not so much like a race.

Hm, let's do the funny next.

I beat a bunch of my friends to the finish line! Because they ran seven miles farther than I did. ;)
This is not funny, it's cool: one of the other 10K runners was a woman with a prosthetic leg. This is the funny part: I had trouble keeping up with her.

And now for the good ... this list is much longer ...

Anne made me a sign saying "Go Sheila Go!" with a little picture of a running person on it. She wasn't in town to hold it up during the race, but I thought of it often while I was running :)
I got up early-ish to cheer on the marathoners as they hit Mile 2 about a block from my house. I was the only one out at that time of the morning so I stood around for ten minutes clapping by myself, until the last marathoner went by. I got to see Fr. Mike and Fr. Brad go by and I shouted, "Go Holy Cross!" probably too loud for my neighbors who were sleeping. That was fun.
Jen T. was in town! I got to see her just before she started the half-marathon, and wish her luck, and we got to chat a bit after the race.
Running into the stadium at the end, I felt like my legs were being powered by something other than me. Just kept going. They announce people's names as they run over the finish line and since I was not in the middle of a pack, my name was one of the ones announced. They kind of mispronounced my first name, but still. My name, over the loudspeaker, in Notre Dame Stadium.
Once I was finished running I had a really fun time hanging out by the finish line waiting for friends to get in. I knew TONS of people who were running one race or another.
There were all kinds of good refreshments at the end. I like the green popsicles :)
Despite how hard things were, I am still looking forward to the 10K trail run in July. Bring it on!

One last note - I didn't know what list to put this one in. When I got to the finish line, someone handed me an icy-cold wet washcloth. I sat down heavily on the grass while someone took the ChampionChip off my shoe, and I put the washcloth to my face and started crying. Maybe because I was happy because it was over, or maybe I was crying for all the disappointment and discouragement that I had been pushing through for six miles, or maybe that's just what I do when something icy-cold hits my very hot face ;) I don't know, I couldn't figure it out.

So overall ... the Sunburst was good. And it was bad. And it was funny. And it's over.

what am I doing?

2008-05-23T08:33:00.002-04:00

since I've been busy out here I thought I would post all the things I would have put on Twitter, which by the way I am now putting on my site ... look at the right-hand sidebar ... Twitter is a site that's all about answering the question "What are you doing?" in 140 words or fewer to keep in touch with family and friends.

So here are some of the things I would have put on Twitter the past couple days if I had bothered to get on the computer, or if I wanted to pay for texting it from my phone ...

driving through the most glorious mountains I have ever seen

washing an endless supply of glass candleholders

running through a lumberyard

cutting fake cherry blossoms with bolt cutters

driving to Harrisburg with GPS to pick up two people I've never seen before

pickup successful. Now arguing with the GPS voice

... and that brings me about up to date. Who else wants to get on Twitter and tell us what you're doing?

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz

2008-05-22T11:48:00.005-04:00

Uncle Jim tagged me with this ...

I am (a/an):

a. audible singer

b. bike-to-work kind of gal

c. charismatic catholic

d. delicious cook

e. excellent writer

f. free human being

g. gracious hostess

h. humble ;)

i. inquiring mind

j. justice-and-peacenik

k. kan't think of what starts with k

l. loving sister, daughter, niece, aunt, cousin, friend

m. mistake-maker

n. nearsighted 8-)

o. optimist

p. pushy when I have to be

q. quiet sometimes

r. road-tripper (also recent runner)

s. sinner (also swing-dancer, also soccer-player)

t. tenacious

u. unpretentious

v. victorious

w. willing to try new things

x. ???

y. yarn user

z. ztupendous

from PA

2008-05-20T21:35:00.002-04:00

Just a quick update from Liberty, PA, one of the prettiest places on earth. I had a lovely drive out here Monday - ten hours just flew by :) My favorite part of the whole trip is this little five-mile section of PA 64 that I drive on right after getting off route 80. The loveliest valley you've ever seen. I'll try to stop and take pictures on the way back. The other cool part of the trip was seeing the work they're doing on 15 North out here - they're ripping up the hillside to make the highway bigger or something - it was neat to see the bare, raw, red earth and the smoke where they were burning up big tree roots. They're going to begin blasting on Monday - ooh, maybe I'll get to see some of that.

I had a lovely last week in the Bend before coming out here. Wednesday I got to have lunch with "Uncle Jim", fellow blogger and brother from the Muncie branch. Maybe this is a wierd metaphor, but I kind of think of him as a tree God planted - strong and full of life - sturdy and unshakeable - he has a lot of love to give and seems to just give it unhesitatingly. He told me a great story about inviting a bunch of people (was it 11, Jim?) over to dinner even though he has minimal cooking experience :) What a blessing, meeting him was the highlight of my week.

I did get ANOTHER six-mile run in on Saturday - still pretty amazed. I am struggling to figure out how to keep up my training while out of town but I do think I will have time for a run tomorrow morning - from here to town and back is four miles. After a run and a shower I am down towards Lewisburg for MY BROTHER'S WEDDING! The words still feel funny to say. "My brother is getting married on Saturday." Crazy! Anyway, I am super-looking forward to all the wedding prep we're going to do these next three days - I am ready to roll up my sleeves, pull back my hair, and dive in headfirst. Can't wait.

I hope to get back to a computer soon to give you more updates on how it's all going, but we'll see what happens ... in the meantime peace to you all!

i like running too

2008-05-13T18:31:00.002-04:00

... so with the help of the HOLY SPIRIT ... this morning I jogged six miles straight.

i like basketball

2008-05-12T12:11:00.002-04:00

Only six of us showed up to soccer last night, so after an exhausting forty-five minutes of World Cup (and the loss of one player who had to get up early this morning), everyone kind of wanted to play basketball instead. Basketball? OK, I still have vivid memories of the last time I tried to play basketball - I didn't know what the heck I was doing, I was surrounded by about a billion people, it was one of my classic sports-torture moments where all I wanted to do was hide somewhere and cry. Absolutely, totally miserable. Even after I started playing soccer, and learned a bit of volleyball, and began running, basketball was still firmly outside of my comfort zone. I mean, way outside. Like no, I will not consider playing it, thank you anyway.

But five people is just not enough to play soccer, and none of us wanted to go home, so what else were we going to do? "If y'all want to teach me how to play," I told my friends, "and if you'll bear with me when I start crying ... then OK."

But you know what? No tears. Michael gave me an EXCELLENT two-minute explanation of basketball and how to dribble and how to shoot. By the way, another vivid memory - trying to dribble a basketball down the pavement in grade school gym class - it just seemed impossible! I could not get the hang of it. Oh man, gym class, how I hated it ... anyway, last night was a different story. I was able to kind of get the basics of the game, enough to play in our little three-on-two game ... and I made a few good passes. And I actually got the ball in the basket once. And, I had fun. That is really the most amazing part. And it's really quite a tribute to Michael, Sarah, Justin and Kyle ... it's really amazing to me, to have friends who love me so much that they'll play a game with me that I barely know how to play, and that they can break through this terrible lifelong barrier I've had and actually help me have fun playing basketball. Amazing. Can I overuse that word a bit more? Amazing. Amazing. Amazing.

In other news ... running is still hard. The Sunburst 10K is 19 days away and I continue to have LOTS of trouble jogging even a mile without stopping to walk. As I told Pete the other day, at the rate I am currently going - and many people can literally walk faster than I am jogging - it will take me an entire two hours to finish the 10K. "And that," I told him, "is just not acceptable." Not just because it would be a ridiculously embarrassing time, but also because I really don't want to be running for that long of a time! Running doesn't feel very good, and I don't really want to feel that way for two hours.

But for some reason, today I feel differently about it. I've mapped out the run I plan to do tomorrow morning - three miles up Riverside and back - and it probably will take me two hours, and I'm just going to be OK with that. I don't know why running has been so bad lately, and I don't know if it will ever get better, but I'm going to do it anyway.

OK, so go back to that last paragraph and erase that "for some reason" part. I know the reason. Yesterday was Pentecost, so at our People of Praise meeting we got into small groups and prayed over one another, and among other things, one thing I asked for prayers for was that the Lord would help me with running. JUST NOW as I was writing all this I realized this is his answer. He's (probably) not going to magically make me a better runner, but he will pull me through and jog with me for the whole two hours.

Amen.

meaningless blog post

2008-04-27T13:12:00.002-04:00

Shameful! It's been a month and a half since I last blogged. The longer I go without posting, the easier it is to say "I have nothing interesting to blog about today,"but today I am just going to get back into it despite the fact I don't have anything important to say. Let's go with my favorite format, the Random Listing of Random Thoughts.

The Power Outage. I think storms are totally awesome. Driving home from Sarah's Friday night, being pummeled by wind and rain across the field by Mayflower, I drove by a tree that was down - I think it had fallen on a power line - it was flashing and sparking. Kind of scary, like, "is something going to blow up when I drive by it?" - but also awesome. Called 911 'cause it kind of looked like it was on fire. So then when I got home I was all like "who forgot to turn on the porch light?" But nobody forgot, it was just that the power was out. Saturday morning I discovered why when I looked out my bedroom window and saw the next door neighbor's huge tree fallen over onto the power line in the alley. Lack of electricity made for a very interesting day! Thinking hard before opening the fridge so that I didn't waste the cool air. Being free from my hair-styling slavery for a day because I just plain couldn't use a hair dryer or straightening iron. Absent-mindedly flipping the light switch all darn day. Carting all my cooking supplies over to Tia's house to use her kitchen. Super-fun. (No, for real, I don't mean that sarcastically. I had a great time chatting with Tia and Jeff and Molly, and letting Mason play with my keys.) The power was back on when I got home last night so now I have lovely hair and the option of cooking in our own kitchen :)

Earthquake! The other super-cool experience of the past few weeks was the earthquake that centered in southeastern Illinois but woke me up in northern Indiana. I also experienced the aftershock via the shaky table in my supervisor's office. I had an interesting conversation with a friend yesterday - being aware of the possibility of earthquakes in the Midwest was rather worrisome to him - I told him, "Why worry when you can't do anything about it? What are you gonna do, stand over the fault line and hold it together with your hands?" I don't worry much about natural disasters. Maybe I should. Well, not worry, but think about them a bit - like when we had the talk at the community meeting about what we would all do if the bird flu hit us. Yeah, I think I'm in favor of thought and preparation, but not worrying. No matter where you live you could get hit with some sort of natural disaster. And we're all going to die someday anyway right? Is that attitude too cavalier?

Running is HARD. That may be the only worthwhile thing I have to say about it.

Biking is fun. I got my old bike fixed up so I could do some cross-training and now I bike to work 2-3 times a week. Just in time for the gas prices to go up! The ride to work is only about 20 minutes, if that, and I also have a really short ride from work to my favorite coffee shops on my lunch break. And I'm being nicer to the environment. And getting healthier. Super fun.

OK, well, that's enough for now. I will blog again another day. Probably.

a very long post from a very short trip

2008-03-10T17:32:00.004-04:00

Eight hours on the road after a full day of work, then three days in the Twin Cities, then another long drive back ... we had a GREAT time on our crazy road trip. Here are some highlights ...

... us girls (Sarah H., Cat and me) woke up Friday morning to find the Coleman's kitchen covered with post-it notes telling us where to find cereal, silverware, and anything else we might need ... so that our sleepy little minds had little to no thinking to do :)

... MC Ferber (not to be confused with MC Hammer) guided us to the Mall of America where we parked on the Indiana level of the garage ;) It's hard to say whether we had more fun riding the roller coaster or running down the up escalator at the mall. We (mostly I) were (was) dismayed to find that PB Loco was closed, but I did get some fun gifts at Sox Appeal, which later prompted Bill R. to tell Anne B. that she was looking soxy. I also finally found the mandoline I have wanted for so long, which I used to make homemade potato chips last week. Only about half of them burned, the rest were tasty ;)

... we then joined up with Sarah C. at the end of her day working at the Mill City Museum. It's hard for me to explain to people how interesting this place is! The museum is about the history of the flour milling industry in Minneapolis. That sounds pretty dry but I love learning about labor and industry so I found it fascinating. Our visit included viewing the Minneapolis in 19 Minutes movie, which was pretty fun. Did you know that Minneapolis owes its existence to St. Anthony Falls?

... Friday night we had dinner at the Colemans' house with some folks from the campus area. We all prepared it together and had a ton of fun! Afterwards the guys (Justin, Peter, Michael B) went to hang out with some guys in Dinkytown while the girls hung out with Sarah, Rose, Janelle, Christine, Mary Clare, and Beth. We played Pop 5 and the South Bend girls tried not to fall asleep too ridiculously early, but it was hard ;)

... Saturday morning was the Minneapolis Institute of Art where one of the highlights for me was the flying baby Jesus picture. I don't go to art museums much and didn't realize how much I enjoy them ... after half an hour looking at art - slowly, taking my time with each painting, then trying to catch up with my group ;) - I felt a delightful kind of peace and contentment. I need to spend more time with art. The modern art was not as peaceful, but only because I had to think about it more. I don't always understand modern art, but I try hard to appreciate it. (Aside: one time, years ago, as I was beginning a watercolor for a high school art class, I brushed a stroke of red onto my paper and was struck by how beautiful it was. Red is beautiful. White is beautiful. The curve of the stroke was beautiful. Ever since then I have tried to appreciate modern and abstract art.)

... we ate lunch at the Global Market and enjoyed food from: Vietnam, Cuba, East Africa, Jamaica, and Trinidad. Since one of my favorite coworker-friends is from Trinidad, I was especially excited to try a Trini drink called sorrel, which I didn't particularly love, but Rose did so she finished it for me :)

... we took a quick trip to the Cathedral of St. Paul. The interior of the dome was encircled by Psalm 150 - it was in fancier language but here it is in the Message translation:

Hallelujah! Praise God in his holy house of worship,
praise him under the open skies;
Praise him for his acts of power,
praise him for his magnificent greatness;
Praise with a blast on the trumpet,
praise by strumming soft strings;
Praise him with castanets and dance,
praise him with banjo and flute;
Praise him with cymbals and a big bass drum,
praise him with fiddles and mandolin.
Let every living, breathing creature praise God!
Hallelujah!

... we also did a mini-visit to the Como Conservatory which was lovely and warm and full of fresh flowers. But the name of it just called me back to days of studying at the CoMo (Coleman Morse) building at ND ... Peter and I shared fond memories of the comfy couches and free soda :)

... we went to a terrific Mass at St. Peter Claver church. It was lively and diverse and the sign of peace took a nice long time. Check out this article on the parish.

... and then we had dinner in Dinkytown. We ate with different sections - I was delighted to spend time with the Action section and get to hear more about what they are doing - I hear that another section was celebrating Dan Ficker's birthday - so we all had a great time. After dinner people hung out and chatted or played a game of bowls that was so loud that although it was being played on the third floor, you could hear it in the kitchen. Personally, my favorite thing about Dinkytown was that every time I turned around I saw another person that I met some time in Allendale :)

... Saturday morning was brunch with the Theis family where Mary Clare is in household. Oh my gosh, Jen Theis's pancakes are the best. I copied down her recipe. I also had a ball talking to her about household. But the highlight was definitely when one of the little Theis girls sang "the Little Mermaid song" to us ... unfortunately there is no way to convey that experience in a blog post. If only I had recorded it.

... Our last hurrah in Minnesota was the campus area meeting. The coordinator apologized that he hadn't planned anything special for the meeting - he was a wee bit distracted by the birth of his daughter Charis just a few days before - but it was really one of the highlights of the trip. The campus area was the most tight-knit, we-are-a-family, let's-really-live-life-together area I've ever seen and it sparked a discussion during our ride home about what the role of the area in PoP life should be. I was also delighted to see my friends the Wilsons who took care of me during my summer service project in Indianapolis and now live in MN with their gorgeous little daughter Claire. I also got to re-introduce Mike Wilson to Cat, whose household he lived in when she was very small. Fun times.

... and that's all for now. I promise to post photos later ... also in coming attractions is a post about our day trip to Chicago ... stay tuned!

sarah and sheila blog from Minnesota

2008-03-07T11:53:00.002-05:00

So here I am again, blogging just so that nobody yells at me for not posting in so long. Today I have a special guest, Sarah Heintzelman. We're hanging out in the Colemans' house after a long day/night of driving yesterday.

Sarah, do you have anything you'd like to say to the world?

"The sun is out and it's beautiful."

That's true. It's chilly up here but the sunshine is gorgeous.

Our trip was uneventful - no speeding tickets or car accidents ;) I have a great photo I'll share with you later of Sarah kissing a fake bear at the rest stop ("my hunka hunka burnin' love," she says) and another of Michael drinking, or being attacked by, a can of soda. Our photo of Justin's headlights that he used for reading in the backseat of the van didn't come out quite as we would have liked - from the front seat where I was driving it looked like he had two blue eyes in his forehead - didn't quite get that effect.

Sarah, what else should I tell everyone?

Oh yeah, we watched "The Client" in the backseat in the early part of the trip. Sarah and Justin, in the front, just listened so periodically I would pretend to be helpful and tell them what was going on onscreen. "OK, so the guy killed himself now ..." "What guy?" "The guy in the car that the kids saw ... "What kids?"

Anyway, soon here we're off to the Mall of America (what a stereotypical thing to do! but it will be fun). In a couple days I'm sure I'll have a much more interesting post for you, full of our Minnesotan adventures, Until then, this is Sarah and Sheila, signing off!

"How's that, Sarah?"
"Beauteous."

winter

2008-02-26T16:39:00.002-05:00

Over the past few years I have developed an unhealthy dread of winter. Bitter cold. Brushing snow off my car (or worse, scraping ice off) every time I went to drive anywhere. Continually taking my boots on and off and carrying extra shoes in my big purse. Sliding through the occasional stop sign and feeling the pulse of the anti-lock brakes. What an annoying season! For a long time I was uneasy every fall, knowing what was ahead.

This year, though, I managed not to dread winter. Sure, it would be cold and snowy and annoying, but I'm a South Bend girl now and I know how to handle all that. I've polished my snow-driving skills so I am competent and confident traveling in the white stuff. I resigned myself to the four-times-daily brushing off of the car. I bought myself some cute boots and thought I was ready for winter.

But I wasn't ready for this winter.

It's been brutally cold, a lot. We've had BIG snowstorms, a lot. "Is it just me," I asked Anne the other day, "or are we having an uncommonly cold and snowy winter?"

"The weatherman was just saying that everything's actually been pretty normal," she told me. "The last few winters have been pretty mild."

My spirits plummeted and for just half a second I doubted my love for South Bend. I don't know if I can keep on enduring winters like this one ...

But when it comes down to it, it's still OK. Last night, driving home from women's group, I was reminded how much I love the way the South Bend sky glows during a snowstorm. Everything is quieter, too, and I felt surrounded by peacefulness. I might not like snow on my car, but I still love to watch the snow fall. And I got up today and remembered to budget five extra minutes for brushing off my car. And it wasn't even that cold. When it comes down to it, I really can manage to keep on going in the midst of all this.

I might just make it until spring.

updates and miscellany

2008-02-23T13:12:00.004-05:00

Uncle Jim will harass me if I go over a whole week without posting so I guess I better write something ...

the killer cold has subsided to a slight cough and as of yesterday I am not taking any meds! Though if you need some, I still have Benadryl, ibuprofen, benzonatate, and cough drops in my purse. Also Nyquil and promethazine DM in the medicine cabinet.
I started feeling so much better that I registered for a 10K trail run in Michigan in July. The guys (Justin, Kyle, Pete, and Pete) are doing a marathon up there and it's on an island and it looks like a ton of fun so Sarah and I are going to run too. Though not nearly so far. Personally though, I bet the guys run the marathon in a shorter time then I run the 10K.
Last night my household went to Stations of the Cross and soup supper at Holy Cross. All the coolest people in town were there: Sarah & her grandmother Helen, our next-door neighbor Anne, Veronica, Valerie and Larry ... it was a happening' place.
After soup supper it was time for another super-cool place, the Niles Wonderland Theater. Cheap tickets, cheap snacks, mediocre movie selection. After a 16-e-mail exchange throughout the day on the young adults list about what movie to go see, Sarah and the guys took in "Jumper" and Cat and I saw "Vantage Point." Which was an enjoyable movie, I liked finding out different parts of the puzzle from different people's views, but then at the end of the movie they abandoned their own method and it was just standard action with a too-long car chase and lots of things going on at once. Plus, Cat thinks I'm funny for minding this, but at this one point there's a terrorist sprinting up the back stairwell of this hotel where the president is staying and hello, they would totally have that guarded, he never would have made it up there. But whatever.
Two weeks to Minnesota. The group is taking a crazy road trip, weekend after next, we're leaving SB Thursday night and going all the way to the Twin Cities, hanging out with other young adults there for three days, then driving back Sunday afternoon/evening. It's going to be super-cool.
That's all for now. Have to go get ready and go out for coffee with Elizabeth, then cook Fusion Chicken for dinner, then hang out with friends and puppies later tonight ... have a good one everybody!

dinner at Brian's house

2008-02-16T12:53:00.003-05:00

Every Thursday we have dinner with our extended household - Marge, Beka, and Brian. It's a super-fun time full of conversations about (among other things) Trinity, vegetarianism, and Brian's dogs. This past week, we spiced up our routine a little bit by going over to Brian's house, and we had a ton of fun! Turns out Brian is a fabulous cook - dinner was scrumptious. We also got to enjoy his Christmas tree which was alive and well for Valentine's Day! After dinner we watched The Illusionist on Brian's humongous TV. Brian has five recliners in a row in front of the TV so we were all pretty comfy. Since I am still recovering from the killer cold, Brian also gave me some hot tea and a comforter straight out of the dryer. I got so comfy that I may not have been awake for the entire movie. But I definitely woke up when Brandy and Brutus, the legendary dogs, came in to meet us after the movie. Check out the photo where it looks like they're trying to bite Brian's head off. These dogs are huge! But they were cute. In a huge sort of way. In any case, the night was super-fun. Hooray for extended household!

moments from THE DANCE

2008-02-10T11:40:00.000-05:00

For the past several years, February means only one thing to me ... no, not Groundhog Day ... the Action Division Valentine's Dance. It's our biggest fundraiser of the year and we work on it for months and months beforehand. This year's dance was last night - here's how I experienced it ...

... the mother of all colds hit me the week before the dance, kept me out of work for two days, even kept me from making necessary phone calls because I lost my voice! Friday evening I hung out on the couch feeling wretched and wondering if I would really be OK for the dance. But praise God for cold medicine and adrenaline - I made it through the whole day without falling over (although I came close to not surviving the polka).

... I got to be in charge of beer, wine, and bartenders for the dance, despite the fact that normally I drink neither beer nor wine. Here's me at Belmont Beverage a week before the dance: "OK, I need to order five cases of wine, they told me to get Oak Vineyard ..." "I'm sorry miss, we don't have that brand, is there another that would be OK?" ... "I don't know ... I don't know anything about wine ..." Fortunately Citywide Liquor had what we needed, no questions asked. Meanwhile, one of the highlights of the bartender-recruiting experience was finding out that Rob and Suzanne and Tony and Nancy love to bartend! They acted like I was doing them a favor by asking them to spend half of the dance behind the bar. Praise God for people whose gifts and interests match our needs ...

... working with the Action kids is fun. During food prep yesterday morning I saw Patrick slicing a pepper slowly and awkwardly and went over to show him how to do it properly (I taught my brother how to do this too, a few years ago) and it was cute to see how relieved he was to see there was an easier way of doing it. Meanwhile Ben is an aspiring chef and volunteered to make several cheesecakes for the dance ... he hung in the doorway and watched as a few of us sampled a small piece, and was clearly quite pleased when we all oohed and aahed over how yummy it was. Calla reminded me of Monk, the obsessive compulsive detective, as she meticulously laid out lovely patterns of crackers on red plates.

... I wanted to dance and by golly, I danced. I ran back and forth between the kitchen and the dance all evening, trying not to slack off on work OR miss too much of the fun, so every time I was on a break I was not shy about asking (OK, telling) the guys to dance with me. I may have been a little too forward. Lately, in a lot of ways, I have been realizing how pushy I can be ... is pushy the right word? Maybe assertive ... maybe overly assertive ... in any case, later on in the dance I put my assertive personality to better use when I directed the guys to dance with the other girls. Some of the gals were standing around wanting to dance and the guys were standing around chatting. And honestly, you can chat anytime but how often do you have a live fifteen-piece band to dance to? So, "Dan, you need to go dance with Emily. Kyle, go get Beka. Justin, let's see, who needs to dance ..." And then stood back and watched, satisfied, as my gentlemanly friends took care of the ladies.

... and lots of people had a great time dancing so we renewed our late-summer discussion of how can we get out to dance more? Although most of hadn't danced since September, we were pretty good at remembering the she-goes, the he-goes, and the belt-loop, although the cuddle and the dishrag were a bit more difficult. Well, with my assertive personality you can be sure I'll get us dancing again soon, somehow, somewhere.

... I kind of forgot to eat dinner. I honestly don't know how I managed to work and dance from 6 PM until 1 AM on nothing but a latte and one bite of cheesecake, especially while fighting this killer cold. I am truly sincerely astounded.

... at the end of the dance everyone in Action gathered in the Oak Room and Matt told us that the fun really begins with cleanup. Oddly enough, it was true :) I had actually remembered to bring a stereo to liven up the kitchen atmosphere so we all packed leftovers and washed dishes while singing "Do you believe in magic, in a young girl's heart ..." Well personally I didn't sing because that would have given me a coughing fit, but it was fun all the same. One of the highlights of the entire evening was looking at the clean, empty kitchen and marveling at all the work we'd managed to do in there. I moved on to other odd jobs like rolling up long strips of red ribbon and just had a ball watching the high-schoolers get goofier and goofier as it got later and later. But they're a hard-working bunch and the dance that had taken several days to set up came down in two hours. Praise God.

... and then I slept until 11 AM. Praise God.

2008-02-02T12:18:00.001-05:00

A bunch of us went to watch a Notre Dame hockey game last night. Super fun! Though personally, hanging out with Emily and Abby (the other two girls in last night's group) was more fun than actually watching the game. (Which ND won, by the way.)

Pay no attention to the hand. Abby is calling the game from the official (but unlocked) NCAA box behind the goal.

WG spa night

2008-01-29T09:56:00.000-05:00

we celebrated Nora's birthday last night with a foot spa, facial masks, and wax all over our hands :)

first habit

2008-01-28T06:55:00.001-05:00

began this habit today ...

The first habit is the morning offering, when you kneel down and using your own words, or a formula, you briefly offer up all the day ahead for God's glory. What is not so simple is what has to happen before the offering. As the founder of Opus Dei put it "Conquer yourself each day from the very first moment, getting up on the dot, at a set time, without granting a single minute to laziness. If with the help of God, you conquer yourself in the moment, you have accomplished a great deal for the rest of the day. It's so discouraging to find yourself beaten in the first skirmish (The Way, 191). In my pastoral experience, those who can live the "heroic moment" in the morning and in the evening going to bed on time will have both the physical and spiritual energy throughout the day to stop what they are doing in order to live the other habits. - from The Seven Daily Habits of Holy Apostolic People by Fr. John McCloskey

My new year's resolution was to stop using the snooze alarm. I have been semi-successful but have been reminded several times, in different places, to follow through with it. Yesterday at Mass Fr. Brad was talking about Simon, Andrew, James and John - about the way that they dropped their fishing nets immediately to follow Jesus. Do we follow like that when Jesus calls us? The first call of the day is the alarm clock ;) to get up and do what we need to do for the day.

how old are you?

2008-01-25T09:19:00.000-05:00

Check out this time duration calculator. I am 9618 days old. Or:

830,995,200 seconds
13,849,920 minutes
230,832 hours
1374 weeks

How old are you?

ankle, soccer, etc.

2008-01-21T08:20:00.000-05:00

... because I know you are all so intensely interested in my ankle and in Sunday night soccer ... at least I know my mom is ...

... I had a revelation a couple weeks ago when I realized my ankle was still hurting because I wear high heels all the time! Duh! I mean, I'm not talking stilettos or anything dumb like that, but still pretty dumb ... I am about 5'2" and have been wearing "tall shoes" since sometime in college when I discovered how cute they were and that I could reach top shelves a bit more easily with them. But you know, they're not really good for my feet ... and they're really not good for my ankle ... I had to do some Goodwill/Meijer shopping to get some flats and some shorter slacks to go with my flats, but my ankle thanks me! Hasn't really ached in days. Haven't decided yet whether flats are going to be a permanent lifestyle change or just until my ankle is all healed up.

... Played soccer last night and had a good time! Hooray! It helped that we had only 11 people total instead of 11 on each side. So I wasn't so in fear of getting run over or hit by the ball. I played absolutely terribly - praise God for teammates who didn't get mad at me for the sixty times I kicked at the air while the ball rolled slowly by. I was super-exhausted by the end of the night (actually by the beginning of the night) but I had fun.

... and, totally random comment. My previous post (from Saturday night) was a video with one of my current favorite songs on it. I didn't pay any attention to the video but it turns out that it's of an orphanage in Haiti ... this was brought to my attention by Carrie who is adopting a baby from Haiti with her husband Matt. Pray for Matt & Carrie's adoption to work out quickly, and for the health and safety of their daughter Lauren as she waits to come home to them!

when the saints

2008-01-19T23:46:00.001-05:00

This is one of my favorite songs right now - "When the Saints" by Sara Groves. Video isn't anyone I know ... would love to see one with pics of PoP missionaries. Listening to this song, I get kind of revved up - how can I work for the Lord, what part of the world can I take for Christ? It gives me a renewed sense of vocation - even though I'm not a missionary - Lord, give me that fire in everything I do!

Here's the lyrics:

Lord I have a heavy burden of all I've seen and know
It's more than I can handle
But your word is burning like a fire shut up in my bones
and I cannot let it go

And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them

Lord it's all that I can't carry and cannot leave behind
it often overwhelms me
but when I think of all who've gone before and lived the faithful life
their courage compells me
And when I'm weary and overwrought
with so many battles left unfought

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars

I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharohs court
I hear his call for freedom for the people of the Lord

And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them

I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul

I see the young missionary and the angry spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear

I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sisters standing by the dying man's side

I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door

I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load

And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
and when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
I want to be one of them
I want to be one of them
I want to be one of them

in lieu of my own blog ...

2008-01-18T23:50:00.000-05:00

I feel like posting something new for all my faithful readers ;) but haven't had anything bloggable rattling around in my mind lately. So instead I am going to direct you to Uncle Jim (not actually my uncle. But his name actually is Jim.) who has one of the coolest blogs around. Jim posts almost every day and kept me very entertained over the holidays by posting about each of the 12 days of Christmas. Also, his "reflections on being a Christian man" series was beautiful and challenging and not just for men ;) So anyway, on all those days when I fail to post anything, go look at Jim's blog.

from ND magazine

2008-01-14T12:31:00.000-05:00

Wanted to share this story with you ... it reminds me a lot of the way I feel sometimes at work when I have "so much to do" but I keep getting "interrupted" by little things.

In the Silence of that Hallway by Ed Stubbing '64

"E-d-d-d-d?"

Ignore it, Ed. It's a dream. Just a dream.

"E-d-d-d-d?"

Uh-oh. Maybe not a dream. Maybe it's . . . Lu.

"E-d-d-d-d! E-d-d-d-d!"

My mother-in-law, Lu, 89, is a 16-year veteran of the Alzheimer's Wars. Three years ago a stroke took its toll, and Lu needs a walker to move about. I press the Indiglo-light button on my Timex: 3:30 -- earliest ever. Time for an Action Plan. Sit up in bed. Shift legs. Place feet on rug. Stand. Stare into darkness.

"E-d-d-d-d!" Louder this time, loud enough to cause my wife, Lucille, to stir. Not good. Lucille is a nurse who works to the point of exhaustion and needs a good night's sleep. Must move quickly to silence the E-d-d-d-er. I tiptoe to the door that leads to the stairs that leads to the wake-up caller. I gazelle right on down those darkened stairs.

"Oh Ed, I'm so glad you're here."

I nod.

"What day is it?"

Placing my finger over my lips, I motion for Lu to follow me into the kitchen where our conversation would be less likely to wake my wife or son. The creak of her walker follows me from foyer to kitchen. I flick the light switch: "Today is Tuesday," I respond. I know what's coming. We've been there a thousand times before.

"Do we have to go to Mass today?"

"No, it's Tuesday, not Sunday."

"It's not a Holy Day, is it?"

"No. It's an unholy day."

She smiles. Her humor survives within the damaged memory bank. I look at her. Once 5-foot-2, she now registers 4-foot-10 on the shrinking height chart. But her eyes of blue are as blue and as beautiful as ever.

"Thank God it's not a Holy Day."

"Right. But it is 3:30."

"3:30?"

I nod. "You should go back to bed."

"Well, once I get up . . . I stay up." She crosses her arms and stares at sleepy Ed. There it is, the most dreaded of Lu's declarations, dramatic pauses and all. This is serious. Lu is fully awake, cross-armed and dangerous.

"Well, let's just think about it," I suggest.

"Why?" she queries. I consider a persuasive argument relating to the merits of sleep in the middle of the damn night, but logic has become a fading memory in Lu's mind.

"Tell you what. Go to the bathroom, change the pad, and then we'll check things out."

"Check what things out?"

Damn! She got me on that one. Sleep deprivation in action. What do I mean by that? Empathic listening is my last hope. "Tell you what. As a favor to me, go to the bathroom. Okay?"

She hesitates. We stare at each other. I am close to losing it. She smiles. "I just want to do the right thing, Ed. You know that, don't you?"

Oh, brother. I melt completely. "I know. I know you want to do the right thing." I turn and she follows me down the hallway. I flick on the bathroom light.

"Should I leave the walker in the hallway?"

"Yes."

"Can you get by?"

"I'll just jump over it."

She laughs. One of the pleasant little secrets of Alzheimer's is that the same joke works a thousand times. I laugh. Grand fun in the a.m. I open a pad and place it on the counter. I shut the door, amble to her bed and sit. I close my eyes. Peace at last.

"E-d-d-d-d?"

"Yeesss?"

"I went to the bathroom."

"Good. Now change the pad that's on the counter."

I wait.

"What do I do with the old pad?"

"Brown bag on the floor."

Lu flushes the toilet, comes out and shuffles into her bedroom. I make my pitch. "So it's 3:30, and you said you wanted to get right back to sleep."

"I did?"

I nod.

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday."

"It's not Sunday?'

"No. Tuesday."

"I was worried about Mass."

"You don't have to worry because it's . . ." I point both forefingers at Lu, a wacky expression on my face. She smiles. "Tuesday!"

"Yes!" A long pause as I await her next, critical move onto the bed.

"What do I do now?"

"You're exhausted, and you want to go back to sleep."

Lu sits on the bed. I pray to the unknown saint of sleep.

She lies down. Thank you, saint of sleep.

"What time is it, Ed?"

"3:30."

"Do we go to Mass today?"

"No, it's Tuesday."

"What should I do now?"

"Sleep. You are exhausted -- totally, completely, thoroughly exhausted. If there's one thing you want in life right now, it's the chance to go back to sleep."

"What time is it?"

"Three in the morning."

"Three! What am I, crazy?"

"Ummm."

"I'll go back to sleep."

"Exactly! Good night, Lu."

"Good night, sweetheart."

I leave, close the door quietly and tiptoe down the hallway.

"Ed?"

Tiptoe paralysis sets in. Motionless, breathless, sleepless, I turn at the end of my getaway hallway and face the closed, now feared, bedroom door.

"Yes?"

"God bless you."

I don't answer. In the silence of that hallway all thoughts of sleep and concerns about the tasks awaiting me that day flitter away. An Indiglo moment of the soul takes hold. I realize that nothing I would do this day, or for many days, would be as important as what I had just done.

"And God bless you, Lu."

"I couldn't be happier living here with you and Lucille."

I stare at the bedroom door and lie. "We couldn't be happier either."

"Are you going to be around today, Ed?"

"Yes."

"Thank God."

"Yes." I stare at the door. Seconds pass in the silence of the darkness.

I'm not one to sit down in a hallway at 3 a.m., but that's what I do. I sit, and ever so slowly my eyes well up with tears of joy.

Ed Stubbing, who lives in Stony Point, New York, writes articles and screenplays. He can be reached at luedstubbing@aol.com.

after Christmas

2008-01-14T08:31:00.000-05:00

"It is time now for us to live what has been revealed to us." - Fr. Greg on the end of the Christmas season

the Return of the Fear; or, run AWAY from the ball

2008-01-07T21:48:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago we had an absolutely ferocious game of soccer. Justin got hurt, Kyle got hurt, I stayed on the sidelines for at least half the game because I just couldn't take it out there. I thought it was because we had some particularly talented, fast, and powerful players out there but after last night's game I realized it's just that I am afraid.

Three months after spraining my ankle, it still aches most days, and I haven't put my Ace bandage away yet. Apparently I haven't recovered emotionally yet either. I didn't think it had affected me so much, but I used to be a lot more aggressive on the field. I was notorious for getting hit in the face with the ball and that only happened so much because I was always three feet away from someone taking a shot, standing in between them and the goal. Last night I guarded people as well as I could but if I thought I'd get hit or run over, I shied away. It was not a fun way to play! About fifteen minutes after we started, I didn't really want to be there at all.

I toughed it out because I knew that I love playing soccer. I was NOT experiencing that love, but I knew if I stopped in the middle of last night's game, that would really mean I wasn't going to play soccer anymore, and I didn't want to lose that. So I kept playing, although I had my eyes on the clock more than on the ball. At the end of the game I was actually surprised that I'd been able to tough it out for as long as I did. One minute at a time, I guess.

We'll see how I do next week.

1025

2008-01-04T23:04:00.000-05:00

Hillary was involved in Campus Fellowship when I first got there freshman year. I remember talking to her about glossolalia - speaking in tongues - she was the first person I ever heard use that word. Hillary loved the Lord and she loved everyone around her with a kind and sweetly nurturing spirit.

I never kept in touch much with Hillary since that first year but would see her now and then at prayer meetings. She battled cancer on and off and everyone in PoP prayed for her often. When she was very sick a few years ago, a team of people was put together to make sure people went to pray with her every day. And one of my favorite memories from the Linczer family is how at morning prayer William, age 8, buried underneath a blanket he'd thrown over his head, would drowsily offer the petition, "For Hillary Bollman ...." That kid knew about persistent prayer.

I last saw her a few weeks ago when the young adults group went Christmas caroling at Fountainview, the nursing home where she was for a while. She was dealing with some tough medical news, and a lot of pain, but she sang with us anyway.

Hillary was hospitalized yesterday. Last night a friend suggested we both go visit her on our lunch breaks. Initially I said yes but as the workday began with the usual chaos I decided I couldn't handle a hospital visit on my break and I would go after work instead. "After work" never happened - a crisis kept me overtime - and I thought maybe after dinner ... but after dinner we got the call that she was gone.

True to form, PoP surrounded her for her last couple of days. Several people have mentioned how moved they were to have been there for a while in her hospital room, praying and singing ...

I bet that's what she's doing right now.

home again, home again

2008-01-01T20:02:00.000-05:00

Home is where I arrive after 12 hours of driving and there's a pizza party happening. Mom and Marshall and George and Christel and Jonathan and Kim and we're all talking loudly over one another because there's so much to say and share and catch up on that none of us can decide whether to listen or talk so we do both at once. Home is where my two-and-a-half-year-old nephew Brian hides behind his parents' legs before he gets over his shyness and talks to me. ("Thanks for cooking, Aunt Sheila!" he says three times during breakfast.) Home is playing Set with Matt and Julia, and seeing Julia paint Aunt Donna's nails, and hearing from Mary about the Christmas party they had with their neighbors last night, and eating the leftover apple cake from the party, and catching up on Penn State football with Mike. Home is watching Jeff play with his new camera flash, which works great because you can't take a bad picture of Brian anyway. Home is going thrift shopping with Mom and Sylvia and running into Kim at Goodwill. Home is the five-days-later Christmas where I try to convince everyone we should do one gift at a time but I compromise and say two and Debi takes over handing out gifts and almost forgets to open her own. Home is hanging out with my brother-in-law and godfather Craig who would rather be building something but he's content to be at a party for a few hours. He gets a Lowe's gift card for Christmas. Home is watching Susie run around and marveling at the effect Ken's voice has on her (we try for several minutes to make sure she doesn't eat the balloons that Kim is blowing up into animals but in the end the only thing that works is Daddy saying gruffly, "Susie, take that out of your mouth!" from across the room.) Home is seeing how amazingly grown-up my beautiful , newly married nineteen-year-old niece looks and wishing we could also see her husband, who is in Iraq. Home is seeing Ben and Vicki for the first time since Pearl's birth (not quite three weeks ago) and watching my grandmother Pearl hold baby Pearl for the first time. Home is saying goodbye to Jeff and Sylvia when they leave to put Brian to bed; they won't be at Jon and Kim's wedding in May because the baby is due in June, so I'll have to visit Canada this summer. Home is Marshall, at the end of an exhausting day, poring over maps with me to see if there's a better route back to South Bend. Home is a cup of tea with Grandmom before I leave early Monday morning; while we chat Mom makes me a fried-egg sandwich, which I eat an hour later on the highway and discover is the best fried-egg sandwich I have ever tasted.

Home is also where Anne got up at 7 AM last Thursday to say goodbye and then went back to sleep. Home is where I arrive after 11 hours of driving (better traffic) and walk right into a New Year's party and sit down to eat Elena's enchiladas, Bill's beans and Tony's avocado dip five minutes after getting out of my car. Home is where Laura and I toast to the New Year with all these "older folks" and then drive through the beginning of the snow storm to another party, this time with a much younger crowd. There's barely room to stand but there's abundant food and drink and conversations to be had. The ball drops and Laura graciously drives me home so I can collapse into bed. Home is where Anne and Dan know already when all the Masses for today are so they and Laura and I go to St. Joe together. Home is where my old friend Fr. Nate says Mass and my friend Carolyn's daughter Theresa cantors and I see the Boughtons and the Collinses and the Sgrois in different parts of the church. Home is using Dan and Anne's shovel and broom to get my car cleared off and cleared out and then using four years' South Bend winter driving experience to navigate the slippery and thickly-covered roads. Home is praying with Michael and Dan and Sarah and coming up with all sorts of ideas for the New Year.

Home is going to sleep tonight knowing that despite 23 cumulative hours of traveling this past week, I have always been at home.

meditation of the day

2007-12-26T15:47:00.000-05:00

It is not enough to say that Jesus Christ teaches us the Truth about human life. The Christian faith affirms much more. The Truth of life is the Mystery at the origin of all that exists. All religions seek to discover this Truth. Only the Christian, however, will affirm that the Truth became a human being in the womb of a Jewish woman; that he was born as a baby and grew up as a man; that he was followed by people who were struck by the way he lived his life; and that he was executed by some of his opponents but rose from the dead victorious over space and time and is thus still present in his humanity in our midst. Only a Christian would say this. Jesus is the name of a concrete individual man who is the human embodiment of the Truth that all religions seek. He is the Truth made man. This is what we believe. It is not enough to say that Jesus is the name we give to the Truth. Jesus is the man who is the incarnation of the Truth. For this reason, before identifying himself as the Truth, Jesus calls himself the Way. Jesus is the Way to the Truth. To be a Christian is to embrace the Way to the Truth that Jesus is ... we do not seek solutions to the problems of life derived from religious sentiments, spiritual approaches, or philosophical convictions. We do not have answers to questions. In each circumstance of life, whatever it is, we seek not an answer but a Presence, the human presence that is the way to the "Answer," to the Truth. We do not come together as Church to find intellectual answers to our questions about the meaning and purpose of life. This is to reduce to the Church to an ideology. We come together not to find answers but to learn how to recognize and affirm a Presence. The Church is not "our way" of finding answers to our religious quest for the Truth; it is the method through which the Truth becomes humanly present to us. As the prolongation of Christ's presence in the world, it is the method through which the Truth becomes incarnate for us ... We come together as the Church to learn how to recognize the fact of this Presence, and to witness to it in any circumstance of life, especially when there are no answers. Jesus Christ is the way to the Answer. In him, way and answer coincide. - Monsignor Lorenzo Albacete

watch this video

2007-12-24T08:28:00.000-05:00

Cool art/homelessness project in Albuquerque ... for every unique view this video draws during the holiday season Mudhouse Advertising will donate $1 to Art Street and Albuquerque Healthcare for the Homeless.

Christmas music

2007-12-23T08:20:00.000-05:00

official Christmas albums of my childhood: Harry Simeone Chorale, and the Beach Boys Christmas. I would play that first one over and over until my dad pleaded with me to stop. The second one included a priceless greeting from the Boys themselves:

"Hi, this is Denny, and speaking for the rest of the guys
I'd like to say that it has been a great pleasure
for all of us to bring you this Christmas album.
We hope you will treasure it the way we do.
And if you hap happen to be listening to this album right now,
Mike, Brian, Carl, Al and I would like to wish every one of you a very merry Christmas,
and we hope the new year brings you as much happiness as this year has brought us.
Thank you very much."

what I'm listening to this Christmas: MercyMe's The Christmas Sessions, also Christmas with the Rat Pack. MercyMe's version of "O Holy Night" is my favorite ever. Another favorite is Chris Rice's song "Welcome to Our World." I've been listening to Bebo Norman's Christmas album a lot and I love his version of "Go Tell It on the Mountain." I also love the album "The Court of a King" by the Crossing but the CD is funny and will only play in my car.

I change the radio station immediately when I hear: Relient K's "12 Days of Christmas" (not my style); anyone singing "The Christmas Shoes." (worst Christmas song ever. No, worst song ever.)

What about you? What did you listen to growing up? What are you listening to now?

king of glory

2007-12-21T23:41:00.001-05:00

Saw a link to this video on Justin's blog, and have been laughing ever since. It spurred a conversation at dinner Thursday night about the Internet and what "viral" means ... I've e-mailed this video to my household, a coworker, and a choir director ... enjoy!

moo

2007-12-17T14:42:00.001-05:00

I've been told that perhaps I don't post enough anymore, so I wanted to put something up today, but I don't really have anything to say, so I found a link for you all to enjoy instead ... my mom e-mailed me this years ago, in college ... how to tell if your cow has mad cow disease.

Have a great day!
Sheila:)

uncle scrooge and nephew fred

2007-12-10T22:05:00.000-05:00

Just a quick post because I haven't blogged in a while ... this past weekend I saw A Christmas Carol twice: Thursday night in South Bend and Saturday night in Amana, Iowa where Dan is doing his acting internship. Who doesn't know this story? and I have to say that the line "God bless us every one" has never inspired me in the least. But I haven't actually seen the play in years and I was surprised by a few things ... first by how modern Scrooge sounded as he talked about the "surplus population." Second by how quickly he changed once he was shown a new perspective (by the way, it was the showing, not a lifetime of people telling it to him, that changed him). By the time Christmas Present comes around, Scrooge really wants to see and learn and change.

But the thing that moved me the most (much more than that trite little Tiny Tim) was the patient love that Scrooge's nephew Fred had for him. For Pete's sake, if your uncle was Ebenezer Scrooge and he was mean to everyone and rejected all your invitations and shut himself off from all the world, wouldn't it be easy to just leave him there and stop trying? I was kind of touched by the way that Fred came in with all his Christmas spirit, undoubtedly knowing he'd be rejected again, and even more by how he joyfully welcomed Scrooge into his home once Scrooge has had his change of heart. He doesn't berate Scrooge for taking so long to get the Christmas spirit, he doesn't even question what happened, he just welcomes him in. Kind of like the Father's love for us. My hope this Christmas is to be more like Fred, to leave behind cynicism and self-righteousness and just invite people wholeheartedly into joy and love.

thanksgiving numbers

2007-11-22T23:07:00.000-05:00

6:30 was wake-up call so I could drive Dan to the airport. 8:15 was the meeting time at Sarah's house so she and Nora and Pete and I could all drive up to the race together.

41:07 was my official time for the 5K. That's 49th out of 50 women in my age group, and 307th out of 321 total women, and 664th out of 688 total runners. But gee whiz, who cares about those numbers. I ran and finished and had fun AND improved my personal 5K time by 6 minutes. The more important number here is 8 brothers & sisters cheering each other on at the race.

5 was the number around the table at Thanksgiving dinner. My choir-friends Joni and Kevin and their daughters Sarah and Bridget, and me. I had 2 servings of stuffing. We played 2 rounds of Skip-Bo after dinner and then chilled in the living room listening to Nanci Griffith, whom Joni and Kevin have seen in concert 6 times.

When I left Joni & Kevin's, the snow was falling thickly and I couldn't resist going to Notre Dame to see how beautiful it would be. 25 is the approximate number of snowy-tree photos I took there while my fingers froze numb ... would have been more (and I would have gotten frostbite) but my battery died.

2.5 hours is how long I spent watching a cheesy movie on TV (and resting my race-weary, snow-chilled body). 62 is what I turned the thermostat to before going upstairs with the intention of going to bed. Instead of bed I started my 56th blog post.

11:34 is the time right now, and it's time to go to sleep.

Happy Thanksgiving!

yes, i am still here

2007-11-19T17:28:00.000-05:00

Wow, it's been almost two weeks since I blogged. Crazy! I don't have anything particularly momentous to share today either but I thought I'd post something so my regular readers (i.e. my mom) know that I am still alive. So, random thoughts ...

... my ankle is way better. Thursday was the first day that I woke up and realized by ankle wasn't hurting. And then on top of that it started feeling *normal* again. Not just not-hurting, but like "oh, this is what it felt like before I sprained it." Hooray for the power of the body to heal itself, even if it does take a month! My ankle injury and healing process has also made me super-grateful for the overall health of my body. And even happier that I am using my body to its fullest (in soccer and running) while it is young and healthy. I'm not getting any younger you know!

... THE RACE is just three days away! My dear running buddies Kyle and Sarah have helped me run the distance (5K or 3.1 miles) twice now. So now I feel like the actual race will be rather anticlimactic ;) but maybe having all those people watching and cheering will make it more exciting ;) In any case, I am still kind of astonished that I can actually do this. Someday I will do it in less than 47 minutes ...

... my workplace, which shall remain nameless, has asked me to remove all references to it from my blog (new blogging policy). Erasing everything was pretty painful, and there have been a number of things I've wanted to write about in the past few weeks and couldn't, which has also been hard. But for now I'll hold them in my heart and try to keep my eyes open for the beautiful and interesting things going on in the rest of my life. Maybe this will help me not to focus on work too much :)

... tonight is the first Citybuilding discussion for the South Bend branch. Having heard a talk on it yesterday, and anticipating the discussion tonight, already made me think more throughout the day about what our city should look like. For example, read this article about the infamous Wooden Indian motel. The controversy over new licensing policies for budget motels is interesting but for me, the real question is how do we care properly for the mentally ill in our community, and how can we be Christ to the prostitutes and drug dealers ...

... "we need a little Christmas, right this very minute, candles in the window, carols at the spinet ..." I couldn't wait for Thanksgiving this year to start listening to Christmas music. Partly that could be because we had a Thanksgiving dinner for Anne's birthday last Sunday and after cooking a turkey, it just has to be Christmastime. It's also because things were a little rough at my unnamed workplace and I just needed a little cheering up. I needed to sing in celebration of the Incarnation and think more about Christ being born into the muck of this world. He's here with us, came to be with us even though we'd messed up the world so darn much - just because He loves us. Praise God. (So, don't laugh at me for listening to Christmas music early!)

... some of my Christmas music is swing and when I put it on I couldn't resist holding my invisible partner's hands and dancing around my room (gently so as not to hurt my ankle). Can't wait to swing dance again!

... I've been out of soccer for about a month now and I realized Saturday night, when we were kicking a ball around lightly in Kyle's basement, that sometime in the past year and a half I transformed from a person who is afraid to play soccer, to a person who doesn't mind it, to a person who likes it a lot, to a person whose feet itch for movement when she can't play. I wonder if the same will happen with running.

... this blog is quite long enough now.

cleaning house

2007-11-06T17:33:00.000-05:00

My dear friend Kristin is moving across town, and twice I've had the opportunity to help her get the new house ready. Last Thursday a bunch of us went over to wash walls. I used to live in Kristin's new neighborhood so it was delightful to work with (and chat with) my old friends from that area - Mary Ann and Larry, Geoff and Sue, Peggy and Bill, and Ron and little Owen (who is not so little anymore, when did he get so tall?). The nicest part, though, was seeing that big group of people, whom I love, pour out their love for Kristin, whom I love. Everyone was scrubbing cheerfully and seemed entirely happy to be there. Such a nice and quiet but also profound way for them to welcome Kristin's family more into their lives.

Then last night my women's group and another group from the new area (and Sarah too because she is always there when there's work to be done) got together to paint some wood paneling in the basement and take care of miscellaneous items on Kristin's to-do list. We had a lot of fun! I had a major flashback to Allendale since the wood paneling was just like the house that we painted down there. I unconsciously slipped back into crew-chief mode and after I finished taping around doorways, I walked around for a few minutes checking on everyone and quietly inspecting their work ;) I was even working with the mother of one of the teens I went to Allendale with, and it was fun to have a chance to tell her how much I'd enjoyed working with her son.

Anyway, the house was filled with people and we all got a lot of work done. And all the men will be there tonight moving everything in. How the heck does everyone else in the world handle a move like this? Well, I guess they hire movers and painters. But movers and painters don't welcome you into the neighborhood and make your house into your home before you even move in ... praise God for what Kristin got to experience with all of us and what we all got to experience with Kristin!

yes, you can have my photos

2007-10-25T17:50:00.000-04:00

So, I got a digital camera this summer ... so that I could post photos on my blog, edit them to make them look nicer, do digital storage instead of shoeboxes under my bed, and stop buying disposable cameras. I wasn't really thinking much of the sharing part ... not that I was opposed to sharing photos, I just wasn't aware what it would take.

Whenever I got photos developed before, I would get doubles and when people looked through my new photos, if they wanted one, they just took it. Done. Now that my photos exist on CDs instead of on paper, people see me taking a picture, they ask me to send it to them, and much to the surprise of oblivious little me, now I actually have to do something to make that happen. I could e-mail it to them, but I take my photos on the high-quality setting and it takes a billion years to email them. So about twenty people suggested I get a Flickr account, but it just wasn't that simple for me. As scatterbrained as I can be, I can also be pretty finicky - I wanted my photos to be just right, and I wanted them nicely organized so that family did not have to look at twenty shots of my friends before getting to the Christmas photo of my nephew, and my friends did not have to see all my family members when all they wanted to see was that one beach picture, and nobody would have to see my six dozen landscapes unless they wanted to.

So, I had all these standards for photo sharing, and thanks to Kodak picture CDs and my digital camera, I had fourteen months' worth of photos to both edit and organize. And that was a little overwhelming. (It became more overwhelming every time someone suggested Flickr.) So I decided to dedicate my October vacation to getting things organized, and I spent three days on my mom's computer, editing each and every photo and putting them all into albums on Picasaweb. I can't guarantee that I will keep up with all this, but I'll try ... but for now, for all of you who have been waiting patiently for me to share my photos, they are now ready to be shared. Enjoy!

(PS - I probably didn't have to write such a long blog post about all this, but I felt like I had to explain to you all why I took so long and why I got that look on my face whenever you said "Flickr.")

family

people of fun

PoP general

i heard it on NPR

2007-10-23T08:05:00.000-04:00

Somewhere in Ohio, early afternoon on Saturday, as I was driving home to South Bend, I heard a set of stories about violence. The first was about a new program in Philadelphia, the second was about memorial T-shirts for victims of violence, but the third, about a personal response to violence, was the one that literally made my jaw drop. Go listen to it here. The whole set is eleven minutes long, the third story begins around the 7:30 mark. The Washington Post also covered the same story, not as well, but if you'd rather read than listen, then go here to read about it.

sprained ankle, broken heart

2007-10-22T12:10:00.000-04:00

We had an awesome game of soccer last night! Except for the part where I was rolling around on the floor in pain. The good news is, I did not break any bones! Hooray for my 26-year "no broken bones" streak! The bad news is, I need to wear an air cast and take it easy for the next two weeks at least, so I am officially out of the 5K on Nov. 3.

I was pretty bummed this morning when I woke up and realized I probably needed to go to Med Point and that I probably would not be running my first race anytime very soon. My most recent training run, out in Pennsylvania farmland this weekend, surrounded by cornfields and mountains and a sunrise that glorified the autumn leaves, was quite inspiring and I was starting to get really excited about the Run Baby Baby Run. So at 7:00 this morning, after a sub-par night of sleep, realizing this Baby would not be Running was worthy of a few tears. But Anne helped me put things in perspective and really, things are not so bad. I'm not in much pain, I'll recover pretty soon, I may even be able to do the Turkey Trot race on Thanksgiving, and even if I'm not better in time for that, the world will not come to an end.

* But, it was still enough of an event to blog about. So you can post your sympathetic comments now. ;)

covenant

2007-10-17T07:57:00.000-04:00

A week and a half ago, a couple hundred people told me they would stick with me forever. Now, I was actually the one "making the covenant" (myself and six others in our branch of the People of Praise), and I did tell those hundreds of people that I would stick with them too; but the cool thing about the covenant ceremony is that the newbies and the already-covenanted members all say the covenant together. Because "together" is the point of it all.

I've delayed writing this post because I just couldn't settle on the right words, especially because some of you reading this don't exactly know what I'm talking about. For you, here's a brief explanation: the People of Praise is an ecumenical, charismatic, covenant community. It's not my church (I go to Mass at Holy Cross and try to be pretty involved there); it's a way to live with other Christians, and build God's kingdom, beyond my life in my parish. In the People of Praise I live in household, work in the Action Division (that's the group I go to Louisiana with every summer), hang out with my women's group once a week, hang out with the young adults group the rest of the time, and get together with everybody in the branch on Sunday afternoons for a prayer meeting. There's tons more to say about it, but that's a basic explanation.

(If you click on the "POP" tag at the end of this post you can take a look at all the other posts that have had something to do with my life in the People of Praise.)

So that's PoP. What's "making the covenant"? Basically it's making a formal statement that I am going to be part of the People of Praise for the rest of my life. It's a pretty big deal (my mom even came out for the covenant ceremony, thanks Mom!). But in another way it's not a big change. I made the covenant on a Sunday. Monday morning I got up and lived the same PoP life that I lived on Saturday and many days before (I've been in PoP for about seven years). Actually, the whole thing is beautifully mundane. While much of the covenant statement is eloquent, the last line is decidedly un-poetic: "... we agree that the weekly meeting of the community is primary among our commitments and that we will not be absent except for a serious reason." The end. I love that it's not poetic. Because Christian life is not about poetry - although sometimes it is quite beautiful - mostly it's about practical decisions and day-to-day details. Rolling out of bed in time to croak out a song at household morning prayer. Cutting errands short to make it to the PoP center on time for a prayer meeting. Bringing pretzels and two liters of Dr. Pepper to a women's event. These are the things I've been doing for the past sven years and I'm just going to keep on doing them.

But the part that really is awe-inspiring is the people. Apart from all the things we do - we could change it all tomorrow if the Spirit so led us - apart from all the meetings and routines, I have quite simply bonded myself to a couple hundred people in South Bend, and hundreds elsewhere, anf they have bonded themselves to me. We've promised to support each other "spiritually, materially, and financially." We will praise the Lord together, build His kingdom together, live life together, for the rest of our lives. As a covenanted friend joked last night: "We're stuck with each other."

i jogged a mile ...

2007-10-09T14:23:00.000-04:00

without stopping ... it took me 14 minutes.

slow but steady

2007-10-06T17:37:00.000-04:00

(more info than you ever wanted on my training process)

I did not want to run with anyone this morning. Despite the fact that Kyle and I planned weeks ago to run together this morning so he could help me train for the 5K, I just did not want anyone to see me "running." Between lackluster results (couldn't run more than 2 minutes at a time) and a not-fun running experience (felt like dying about half the time I was out), it had been a discouraging week, and the last thing I wanted was to display my total incompetence in front of a real runner who clearly, despite good intentions, would clearly not be able to help such a hopeless case.

(I'd already been seen by some friends who happened to drive down Riverside the same time I was running on Wednesday. Brian told me on the phone Friday, "we saw you running ... you were gasping for breath ... looking like, 'What am I doing out here?'")

But because I didn't want to let Kyle down, I drove up to his place and we started down the street. I'd told him that in the past couple runs I actually hadn't made it past the minute mark, and he said we should try for a minute fifteen. "OK," I said doubtfully, "we can try ..." Of course he then quoted Yoda.

We ran, I asked him how long we'd been going, he wouldn't tell me, we kept running, I felt like dying, I stopped, he said it was a little over two minutes. He also told me I was running too fast.

Too fast? I'm the slowest person I know!

I ran a little slower next time and managed to go for two and a half minutes. Then Kyle told me to jog as slowly as I possibly could. I followed orders and crept along, going slower than I do walking. But I jogged, and kept jogging, and when I finally stopped, it had been six minutes! And, I didn't even feel like dying. I was pretty winded but overall I didn't feel too bad.

We ran some hills, they were pretty terrible, but when we got back onto flatland, things went better. I was getting pretty tired, though, which was silly considering how agonizingly slow I was going, but that's life. We jogged past a little old lady and her dogs, waved and said hello, and she called out to Kyle, "You might have to pick her up and carry her!" But we kept running and when we stopped, it was seven minutes and thirteen seconds.

At this point, I might actually be able to RUN the entire 5K. Hooray for friends who help me through!

belated birthday thoughts ...

2007-09-28T22:51:00.000-04:00

... my Tuesday night volunteer at the front desk, Stuart, asked me what I'd be doing for my birthday. "We're going over to my friend Sarah's house," I responded enthusiastically. "We're going to play Scrabble and have rice krispie treats." Stuart was not impressed. In reality, I spent the weekend before my birthday in Angola, IN at Justin's family's place on Crooked Lake with the other young adults. We canoed and kayaked and jet skied and looked up at the stars from a boat in the middle of the lake and sang a lot of songs together and it was altogether lovely. And when we did go to Sarah's house Monday night for my birthday-eve party we ended up spending half the night swing dancing which is pretty much my favorite thing to do right now. But even if all I had done for my birthday was play Scrabble and have rice krispie treats ... it's just all about the people. I love to spend time with Laura and Sarah and Beka and Justin and Peter and Jon and Kyle. We could pick up trash along the roadside together and I'd have fun.

... Birthday Question #1: the highlight of your year or the best thing that happened to you. I said running (and I really meant running and soccer). I'm still amazed to see how much I've changed over the past year. Change is exciting. Everyone laughed at me when I said running, because, well, look at my last blog post, and Laura asked me last night why I want to do something that I find so miserable ... well, it's not THAT miserable, or at least I forget the misery quickly enough after I finish, but I'm just thrilled by the fact that it's possible.

... Birthday Question #2: the biggest challenge of the last year. I said working Tuesday nights at the Front Desk. Every Tuesday I am blessed with an excellent opportunity to see how much patience I really have and whether I can maintain a compassionate and loving manner for five hours amidst chaos. Many Tuesdays I go home very discouraged because of my short temper and something less-than-loving that I said or did to a client. The front desk is really the front lines and you have to be armed with quite a bit of patience, humor, and objectivity to make it through. It's hard work and it's constant work - you're called on to serve and be loving every moment, no matter if you have five people wanting your attention or you just had to deal with someone obnoxious. Some of my friends were surprised to hear that I was short-tempered with a client last week, but I can guarantee you none of the clients were so surprised. On the bright side, though, it truly is a great opportunity to increase in love and especially in humility!

Thank you, Lord, for twenty-six great years, and for friendship, and new experiences, and challenges to make me a better person!

running hurts!

2007-09-19T18:20:00.000-04:00

... well, it's not so much pain exactly, it's more like leaden feet and having to work really hard to breathe and sometimes getting lightheaded. At one point during Tuesday's run I really thought I might fall over. And I'm not even really running that much! I'm still on my run-walk-run-walk routine, although I did increase my total distance to three miles. Even with the increase, I thought that since I've been doing this for a little while now, it would begin to get easier. But then my dear encouraging friend Justin gave me these inspiring words: "When you're running, you hate everything." So now I understand. No, I'm not quitting, I will continue to go out on Tuesday and Saturday mornings and make myself miserable for the better part of an hour ... and wonder, as I stumble up the stairs to take a shower, why I do this to myself .... and then do it again the next time. What is this?!

(seriously - any runners who are reading - does it ever start to feel less awful?)

today it worked

2007-09-12T18:03:00.000-04:00

Hooray! My iron was OK, my pulse was OK, my blood pressure was OK, and I am now one pint lighter. Interesting fact: over my lifetime I have gone to give blood seventeen times, but only was able to give seven times. So they reject me over half the time ... but the bright side is, I'm one visit away from giving a gallon!

jeez, take my blood already

2007-09-11T10:35:00.000-04:00

Just got back from the South Bend Medical Foundation where once again, they would not take my blood. I haven't given in MONTHS because they keep rejecting me for one reason or another. Once it was for blood pressure, several times for iron, today my pulse was too high (probably because I went running this morning?). I've been rejected at least four times in a row now, maybe more. I'm so mad because there are thousands of people who are afraid of needles and stuff and here I am, not afraid of giving blood, committed to going every eight weeks if I can, and what happens? I can't give.

Grrrrr.

instead

2007-09-08T22:06:00.000-04:00

things i could have done instead of watching Notre Dame get beaten into the ground: call my mom ... work on an art project ... walk around the river ... read a good book ... vacuum ... think of something more interesting to blog about ...

But I did watch every last miserable minute of it. Because that's what a good ND alum does, right? Stand by your team in good times and bad. And horrifically terrible times too. I have to say honestly though, when the team is doing badly it does make me re-think how I spend my time - whether I really ought to spend 3-4 hours every Saturday being consumed with worry over a bunch of guys throwing a ball around ...

i will follow you

2007-08-31T19:26:00.001-04:00

For the past several weeks, a ton of cool people and I have taken advantage of a free swing dance class up at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church. Boy, did we have fun. I now spend boring meetings at work going over swing moves in my head and whenever I get together with friends I try to figure out if we could make it into a dancing event. Yesterday I heard swing music at the Chocolate Cafe on my lunch break and could not help myself from grabbing my coworker Kelly, who fortunately has done some swing dancing herself. We danced quite well given the narrow space in between the tables and the chocolates.

During each of the three lessons, the instructors had us rotate partners every few minutes. So each night I danced with about fifteen different people. Which was more fun than I expected! But it also gave me a chance to observe some very different leading styles. The guys have a tough job ... as one of the instructors told us, "If the woman looks bad, it's the guy's fault. If the woman is uncomfortable, it's the guy's fault." So the poor guys really had to know what they were doing!

Some guys were terrific dancers but poor leaders. They'll swing a girl around 'til she's dizzy and they'll make it look great, but the girl has no idea what's going on or what's coming next. Other guys don't know the moves quite so well but they are courteous leaders - they will never make their partner uncomfortable. Sometimes it takes them a long moment of the step-step-rock-step basics to think of the next fancy move to do - but that's because they're trying to remember how to begin the move correctly so that they don't confuse the girl.

Some guys, of course, are the best of both worlds - good dancers and good leaders - but they are few and far between.

And for my part - the instructors also told us, "If the woman back-leads ... it's all her fault." I did have to restrain myself (and didn't always succeed in restraining myself) from leading my partner a bit when we'd missed a step or lost the beat. I also tried to keep from suggesting moves unless a partner was actually wondering out loud what to do next. It's quite an interesting job, being a follower. But a fun one :)

*please note - I do not mean for these thoughts on leading and following to be taken as my opinion on the roles of men and women in today's world ... it's just a dance class :)

stronger

2007-08-27T22:08:00.000-04:00

Two years ago, my household took a trip to Weko beach. Jenny and I climbed the stairs up the dunes and I remember dragging my feet up the steps, reaching for more breath that just wasn't there ... not fun at all. So when I went to Weko with some friends yesterday, I was gearing up for quite a climb. I wanted to do it, because I'm in my can-do phase of life (I can play soccer and volleyball, I can swing dance, I can run ...), but I was not looking forward to huffing and puffing in front of all my friends. But we started climbing up the steps and wow, this isn't too hard yet, it must just be up near the top ... before I knew it we were at the top, gazing across the lake at Chicago, and sure I was a little winded, but -

I am stronger than I used to be.

I don't know how to put this into words for you. I didn't know that I could actually become stronger and more fit. Really! Of course I knew that exercise puts you in better shape. But I never imagined that I would actually be running twice a week and playing soccer every Sunday night - I never imagined that exercise would ever be a part of my life. That's just not who I was. And I'm not exactly Sporty Spice now either, but - I'm becoming different. I want to play soccer, and I want to run, and I'm open to new challenges.

(A friend who thought he knew me well enough said that he would only go out dancing with our group if I would run a 5K. "It's a deal," I told him. "Crap," he said.)

I've been amazed all along that after twenty-five years I have just up and changed my life in ways that are, to me, really big. How could I possibly be running? But in the midst of that amazement, I never really stopped to think that all this would actually make me healthier. So when I reached the top of the dunes at Weko, it was a revelation to me, and a gift from God:

I am stronger.

music

2007-08-24T23:14:00.000-04:00

I've been listening to Jack Johnson all summer. Anyone who's been in my car knows that I will let his "In Between Dreams" album (borrowed from, renewed by, overdue at, returned to, borrowed from again, renewed by, overdue at, returned to the library) play two to three times in a row during long car trips. And yet I still don't know most of the words to his songs, I just kind of hum along and bob my head and drum my hands on the wheel, but it's the perfect music for driving to the beach. So Jack was mostly car music ...

Norah Jones will forever be my favorite dishwashing music.

Movie soundtracks tend to be good for Saturday morning chores. I used to do Return to Me every week and now I'm into the Parent Trap soundtrack, although the random mix my friend Chris made for my 22nd birthday is also good for cleaning. (The mix includes Billy Joel, Cake, Mandy Moore, CCR, Rich Mullins ...)

Daniel recently told me about Ben Lee and "Awake Is the New Sleep" which I've really enjoyed. Laura K. thinks his song "Catch My Disease" is kind of obnoxious but I get a kick out of it and I like to listen to it while I get ready to go out and/or blast it when I'm alone. The title track, though, is what gets stuck in my head. So wake up and do it, whatever it is, whatever it is ...

So tell me what you've been listening to ...

zucchini

2007-08-21T19:15:00.000-04:00

Zucchini is the blessing or affliction of the summer. What do you do when you have nine zucchini, some baseball-bat sized, and more growing in the garden? If you're like me and you love a cooking challenge, you design an entire meal around it. For any of you who have an overabundance of the stuff, here are some zucchini recipes, accompanied by pictures of the actual Zucchini Meal that I made for my household ...

Zucchini Bread from 101 Cookbooks: this awesome recipe includes curry powder and lemon zest. Outstanding.

Zucchini and Tomato Salad - don't actually have a recipe for this, but dill goes well with fresh zucchini.

Stuffed Zucchini from Allrecipes: tastes better than it looks.

Zucchini Chocolate Cake from Chocolate & Zucchini: tastes like chocolate, not zucchini.

Have fun with these! If you cook any of them, let me know how they turn out!

i ran a mile ...

2007-08-21T12:03:00.000-04:00

... just not all at once.

After a year of hanging out with people who run, I started to get the vague idea that maybe I, too, could someday run. Or maybe jog. I can definitely speedwalk ...

So several weeks ago I started out for a walk around the river, not telling my household that I was going to put in some running too. I ran a bit, then walked, then ran, etc., doing five intervals of each before I started to feel seriously sick, at which point I walked the rest of the way home. A day or two later I caught something at work and REALLY got sick, so I didn't pick up "running" again til this weekend. I decided to try out the new Riverside trail, which is lovely (and flat). Saturday I did more walking than running, I think, but this morning I went a mile up the trail and a mile back. I was doing very short intervals - the distance between every second streetlamp - but I did the same intervals for walking and running so overall I actually ran a whole mile! Hooray for me.

My only problem is whenever I'm getting ready to go out I don't know what to call what I'm doing. "I'm going for a run" does not feel honest, but "I'm going to take a walk" isn't true either, so sometimes I say "I'm going to run slash walk" and today I said "I'm gonna go pretend to run." Maybe, eventually, the scale will tip to the running side so that I could honestly say I'm going running ...

... but don't hold your breath ;)

haunted by these words

2007-08-16T22:28:00.000-04:00

"Before this he had met life with a welcome - it had its trials, but none that a man could not face. But now, in the nighttime, when he lay tossing about, there would come stalking into his chamber a grisly phantom, the sight of which made his flesh curl and his hair to bristle up. It was like seeing the world fall away from underneath his feet; like plunging down into a bottomless abyss, into yawning caverns of despair. It might be true, then, after all, what others had told him about life, that the best powers of a man might not be equal to it!" -- Upton Sinclair, The Jungle

After sitting at the keyboard for a few minutes I've decided I can't explain yet all the things this book is making me think and feel. Maybe some other day, but for now I'll just leave you with that passage while I try to go to sleep.

no photo available

2007-08-06T22:12:00.000-04:00

I had my camera with me the whole time.

I could have taken a dozen photos of us playing with baby Joshua during the hour and 15 minutes we spent at Sarah's figuring out our plan for the day. Justin feeding him Cheez-its, Sarah standing him up on the table, every photo would have been adorable.

And when we ended up at Rio's and Emily joined us and we called Evan and Peter in Minnesota and sang Happy Birthday to Peter on speakerphone - that could have been a good shot, the group of us in a semi-deserted restaurant midafternoon on a Sunday, disturbing the few other customers with our singing.

After we saw Ratatouille we had time to kill and we went to the park and to the East Race ... I definitely should have taken a picture of Daniel pointing out the "no boating" sign right next to the kayak route.

I've been meaning to take pictures at soccer for ages and since I wasn't feeling well and sat on the sidelines half the game anyway, last night would have been a perfect opportunity to get some sport shots, especially of the little boys who joined us - a shot of 6-yr-old Vinnie scoring a goal would have been perfect. And at DQ afterwards, I ought to have taken a picture of Emily and Emily together.

This is why I bought a digital camera, right? So I could capture all of those moments?

But why do I have to capture them? Can't I let them be free?

Free of the worry that I'll someday forget. Free of the need to show others how much fun my friends are. Maybe next time, I won't even blog about it. We can have a great day and I don't need to prove it to anyone or feel validated by seeing it in text or on film. I don't need to plan for twenty years from now and try to make sure I remember each fun time we had. I do hope I remember, but the important thing is just that I live it now.

summer reading list

2007-07-30T18:25:00.000-04:00

I decided to do the summer reading program at the library, partly in hopes of winning an ipod, and partly because I would have read most of these books anyway. I had to push a little to read 10 books in between May 21 and July 28 (each book log - each entry for the ipod drawing - had to have five books on it) but I managed to finish the last one Thursday night. For my book logs I only had to list the books and whether I would recommend them (I recommended all but one), but you all get the extended version ...

The Light on the Island by Helene Glidden. This is my mom's favorite book from her growing-up years; it was out of print for ages but she finally got a copy a few months ago. She kindly lent it to me when I was last in Pennsylvania and I finished the book shortly after returning to the Bend. It's about a girl whose family lives on an island off the coast of Oregon - her father is the lighthouse keeper - no one else lives on the island but her family (well except this one guy ... just read it...). The book is mostly picaresque and the stories in it are fascinating - I could immediately see why they stayed in my mom's head and heart for so long - Glidden tells them so well that they start to feel like your own family memories.
Walden Two by B.F. Skinner. A reread from AP Psychology in high school. Interesting portrait of a fictional "utopian" community (or commune) and some intriguing ideas on freedom and control. A good read, not necessarily something to get excited about and try to copy in real life ...
Chocolate Beach was so not worth it that I don't even feel like searching for the author's name. This was in the "Christian women's fiction" category at the library, which is usually light, fun, harmless stuff with some worthwhile ideas scattered through - but this one harmed my brain and there was absolutely nothing worthwhile about it. Unless I win the ipod.
The Beautiful Things that Heaven Bears by Dinaw Mengestu was quality literature and washed my brain out after reading that Chocolate Beach thing. About an African immigrant in Washington, D.C. Sad but absolutely beautiful.
A Room With a View by E.M. Forster was scathingly funny. Hooray for classics :)
Emma by Jane Austen. Hadn't read it since high school, what fun it was to read it again! Ever since a college essay on Pride and Prejudice I've taken special notice, when reading Austen, of the sneaky ways that she describes her characters - if you read closely enough you can tell right away what kind of person the character will turn out to be.
Nectar in a Sieve by Kamala Markandaya. A small novel about a woman's life in India as the times change and she is left behind. Depressed me more than The Grapes of Wrath, which however is an all-time favorite ... if you can handle the sadness, it's a good read.
The Preacher's Daughter by Beverly Lewis. I have a weakness for Lewis' novels, which are all about Amish women ... in every one of them, somebody becomes Amish or leaves the Amish for the Mennonite church because they've come to know the Lord. I am only half-joking, though, when I refer to these books as "Amish romance novels."
Blue Shoes and Happiness and The Good Husband of Zebra Drive, both by Alexander McCall Smith, from the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series. Fun and easy reads, but still pretty well-written stories with very decent characters. I was intro'd to this series by Pat R. who had our WG celebrate her birthday by watching a travel video about Botswana.

So what have you read this summer?

the Word of the Lord

2007-07-27T23:01:00.000-04:00

Friday afternoon, my last day in Allendale ... the work was finally done. All that stood between me and South Bend was an 18-hour drive with a bunch of teenagers, the last three hours of which would be in the formidable 15-passenger Preuss van. I was nervous about the upcoming drive, kind of brain-dead from the last two weeks of work, but quietly delighted to know that I would soon be back home living my normal life.

The afternoon and evening passed pleasantly: I watched people play Kubb and volleyball, I had dinner with Karen and Mary Beth and MB's husband and daughter, I sang loudly in an empty house while doing dishes, Hannah's lovely voice joined in my song for a bit, and I just reveled in the feeling that I was almost done and almost home. Do you see a theme here? I could not wait to go back home. I'd had some fun moments, some good conversations, got to meet a lot of great people, but the only word for the trip was hard. It had been a hard two weeks.

The evening session began with some words about taking responsibility for your own life, and then Nathan talked to us about choosing to intend to follow Jesus. (The reason for the strange language there is that the only choice we can make is in the present. I can choose to follow Jesus now. I can't choose now to follow him next Thursday - that choice comes next Thursday. But I can choose now to intend to follow Jesus the rest of my life.) We were asked to go find a quiet place alone for fifteen minutes to make that choice.

I'd made that choice a long time ago, maybe not in so many words, but I sat down at the bottom of some back porch steps just to pray for a few minutes. The Lord felt really present so I spoke directly to him. I haven't done a very good job following you these past two weeks, I told him.

You did fine, I know, I was there with you.
I know you were there but I didn't call on you enough.
You called on me a lot actually.
But I kept failing, Lord! I ought to have been more cheerful and less discouraged and a better role model for the teens. And I ought to have built more relationships with the teens and talked with them more.
You did great. You tried. And when you failed you tried again. And when you failed again you tried again. That is humanity.

Thanks be to God.

the end of my rope

2007-07-26T21:50:00.000-04:00

A new PoP catchphrase, at least among the missionaries, is to be at "the end of your rope." They say that the end of your rope is when and where God will work - because you have nothing left but him. And they say that many times life puts us at the end of our rope, but we can also choose (through fasting, etc.) to put ourselves there.

For me, it wasn't so much the end of a rope as the top of a ladder.

This summer was the first time I was able to go to Allendale for the whole trip instead of half, and it turns out that two weeks of manual labor in Louisiana in July is harder than one. By the time the second week rolled around, I was already out of energy, physically and mentally and emotionally. But I had to keep going. Each day I got up and vowed that the heat, the mosquitoes, the smell, the difficulty of our job, and the burden of leadership were not going to get to me. We would get a lot of work done, have tons of fun while doing so, and at the end of the day, we'd be tired but happy. I would be proud of myself for being such a good crew chief. I developed a routine of praying early so that during personal prayer time (twenty minutes before beginning the work day) I could sit with a cup of coffee and a list of all the people on my crew and I would plan out the work day. That part always went really well.

It kind of went downhill from there.

Trying to get eight people to the work site on time. Sending two people back to get that one piece of equipment we always seemed to forget. Slapping at the first mosquito of the day after he'd already bit me. Finding yet another place that we missed with the primer. The never-ending battle of getting the grooved siding completely painted. Trying to paint trim with a huge, much-used brush because we just didn't have enough good brushes. Little things, but over and over, on top of exhaustion ...

It was our last day on the job. I really wanted us to finish the trim before we all left town and I kept going back and forth with myself over whether we could do it. I would start to get optimistic, then see another part of the house we'd forgotten ... it was maddening. Like unpainted pieces of trim were getting together and multiplying. Midmorning saw me up on a ladder with my paint bucket hoping no one from the ground would see I was crying with pure frustration. I got over it quickly enough and kept painting until I saw a guy from my crew walking by. "How's it going?" I called.

"Terrible," he said, bristling with anger. "I dropped my paint bucket. There's paint all over the ladder, and my hands, and ..."

The poor guy looked like he'd had it and my heart went out to him. I told him to go ahead and take a break, take a buddy and walk down the road a bit to cool off. I turned back to my painting and realized we really were not going to finish this house. There wasn't enough time and we didn't have enough energy.

With that decided, I went to take a water break. My beleaguered crew member returned from his walk. "Oh no," I said without thinking, "there's paint in your hair too ..." He looked even more dejected than before, which I hadn't thought possible. "Hey," I said spontaneously, "I'll be in solidarity with you. Go get some paint, put paint in my hair." And man, could this kid follow directions. I still have paint in my hair.

Soon about half the crew had paint in their hair, and while normally I would have gotten on the teenagers' cases for the amount of time they spent running after one another with paint, I had let go of my need to see the house finished and I was more interested in seeing the kids smile.

That was the bright spot of the work day, but my woes were not over. Just before lunch I discovered we hadn't taped correctly and a ton of our trim work was ruined. After lunch I had my own paint accident, except my white paint splashed not onto my ladder but onto the freshly painted blue house and the floor of the porch.

And that's all I have to say about that.

(tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of Sheila's Adventures in Allendale)

Teenagers

2007-07-24T17:12:00.001-04:00

I spent a lot of time with teenagers during my trip to Allendale. We had 42 people on our trip; I think seven of us were adults. I think the last time I was around so many teenagers for such an extended period of time, I was a teenager. (And because I know you're wondering - that was five years ago, almost six, OK, so that doesn't sound like much, but those are five to six pretty important years!) Honestly, I had forgotten how hard it is to be a teenager. The boys don't know how to act around the girls, the girls don't know how to act around the boys, and none of them know how to act around adults.

As for me? As an adult ... I didn't know how to act around them either. I had a lot of responsibility during this trip - driving teenagers 15 hours to Louisiana without losing them at rest stops, being a crew chief at the job site, and a lot of just being the only adult around a group of teens. I had a lot of learning and growing to do - I kinda had to learn how to be an adult. And that was hard. Trying to rein teens in when they were speaking badly of a friend; trying to actually look like I was in charge on the work site; breaking up a water fight (against the rules) and getting a snotty remark back from a teenage girl ... being an adult amidst so many teenagers was hard. Especially because I'm so short and don't even look like an adult!

But when I didn't have to exercise any "adult" authority and I had a chance just to spend casual time with the teens - it was a joy to get to know them and see them growing. A few girls were talking one day about what they wanted to do with their lives; one wants to become a nurse and open a home for unwed pregnant women. Another wants to work for NASA. Several other times I got to hear girls talk about what the People of Praise is doing and I was amazed at their passion for the Lord and his kingdom. And I got to meet a lot of hard workers. One of my absolute favorite moments of the trip was down at the paint-washing station, cleaning paintbrushes. Matt Brickweg (on staff at Allendale) was showing us how to clean the brushes correctly. He demonstrated on one side of a brush and then flipped it over for one of the teenage girls to clean the other side. She took the brush and scrubbed it and scrubbed it and would not rest til her side of the brush looked better than Matt's. All the other teens were excited to do it right too. I was surrounded by a bunch of teenagers doing their absolute best on one of the most tedious chores of the trip. Praise God.

Citybuilding

2007-07-23T22:59:00.000-04:00

Each day after the workday was over (and after our scheduled 12-minute showers, and unscheduled chill-out time, and a delicious dinner, thanks Colleen) we got together for the evening sessions. I have to say, after working hard all day, there were a couple evenings when I was taken back to college seminars and just could not keep my eyelids up, so my memories of those talks are hazy. But the talks that woke me up and actually kept me up into the night thinking were about citybuilding.

The Lord works in lots of different ways, and is always doing something new. What he's doing with the People of Praise right now is calling us to build cities. Specifically, we've heard a call to build 200 cities in the next 40 years. That sounds pretty funky, and I still have a hard time getting my mind around it. But basically, it's a concrete way of building God's kingdom - we want to have real places that you can walk to, places that are part of God's kingdom on Earth. I've heard it compared to Chinatown - a whole different culture and life in the middle of society.

We want our cities to be places where Jesus is king; where good housing is available to everyone; where we live purposeful life together, across boundaries of age or race of economic class; where our businesses and jobs are close to our homes; where money works (people have enough and it is spent well, and in some cases, it is held in common); where there is friendship and peace; where health care works; and where everything is beautiful and functional.

We're not necessarily talking about building a city from scratch in the middle of the prairie somewhere, although that could happen too. For now, we are building cities inside existing places. Allendale is our first "new start": we moved into the neighborhood and are simultaneously buying up unused land to build on and working for and with the neighbors who already live there. We've already transformed Yale so that you know you are in a new place when you cross Gary or Dunlap onto our block. Up in Minnesota, we've moved into Dinkytown, a college-housing area at the U of M, to build the Kingdom there and revolutionize student life. There's also work being started in Indianapolis, and some people will move to Memphis this fall.

And then there's this whole other part of the picture - "branch citybuilding." So we have missionaries whose job it is to "locate and secure new starts," but citybuilding is actually something the whole People of Praise is part of. The idea is simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying - that all 3000 of us are called to do this revolutionary thing. In some ways it's not scary at all, we just have to keep doing what we've been doing - worshiping together, living in households together, having men's and women's groups and youth ministry, taking care of each other in times of transition or crisis, etc. - because that's what is going to make our cities worth living in. But the other part of branch citybuilding is that each branch - we have 20 by the way, in places all across the country - each branch is going to have to figure out how to become a city.

Portland's already started. My new friend Luke told me a lot about what's happening there while we painted together the first week in Allendale. I'd heard about it before but never from someone who's actually living there, and I was fascinated. The branch in Portland just decided on a section of the city they wanted to live in, and now there are several "hubs" of families living together within that area. A hub would be several families living in close proximity - next door or across the backyard or something - the new catch phrase is "close enough to bring a pot of hot soup over for dinner." Life together is intense and intentional. Families even went to look at each house all together before one family would buy their house, because everyone needed to agree it was what would work for life together. Amazing.

What kept me up late at night (other than the coffee I had after Lord's Day dinner, which was my first caffeine in a week) was wondering what we're doing in the South Bend branch to build a city in South Bend. My mind was racing with possibilities and questions and I couldn't wait to get back and start talking to people. Now that I'm back I don't quite know where to start, though ...

I do know that I am passionate about branch citybuilding, and nothing gets me on my soapbox faster than hearing how left-out people feel when we talk about missionaries and new starts. Maybe because I have so often felt that way too. But ... the missionaries are doing amazing work, but when it comes down to it, our regular life is pretty amazing too. It's the Lord's work and we need to keep doing it. Raising families, renewing our churches, being Christ to our coworkers and neighbors and friends ... one college student from my Allendale team is dedicated to her younger brothers and sisters in her branch. She's the youngest committed member of the branch and she knows the teenagers (and younger) need to have her around, to see what it is to be a young person in love with the Lord and committed to Christian life together. That is where the Lord is, just as much as he is in Allendale and Dinkytown.

We just need to pull it all together ...

Allendale, part 1 of 5

2007-07-22T21:13:00.000-04:00

Eleven days in Allendale, plus two full days driving, thirteen days. From leaving South Bend to coming back last night at midnight, it was actually three hundred and twenty-two hours, and almost every one of those hours was an experience unto itself, so actually you're lucky that I'm only taking five posts to tell you all about it. I've planned it out too, here's a preview of topics to be covered:

1. Intro
2. Citybuilding
3. Teenagers
4. The End of My Rope
5. The Word of the Lord

So hang in there with me. Now, without further ado, your introduction ...

Allendale is a downtrodden neighborhood in Shreveport, LA, where the People of Praise has been working for the past five years. We have a number of people living there year-round - a men's house, a women's house, and a retired married couple - and they are claiming that neighborhood for Christ. They live life in common with one another, as the early Christians did, and seek to draw more people into the kingdom of God. They pray with people for healing, they talk to people about Jesus, they call people on to live better lives, and they extend the love and friendship of Christ to everyone they meet.

In the summer, the rest of us get to join in their work. Since the crucial parts of their work involve long-term relationships with people in the neighborhood, what we can help with is mostly the physical labor part. Over the past five years we have built six houses and done fix-it projects in a number of neighbors' houses. The picture to the left here is Yale Ave., "on campus", where our houses are. What I like about Yale is that it simultaneously is a departure from the rest of the neighborhood - no trash in the yard, the houses are well-kept, etc. - and also blends in with the neighborhood, unlike the gated apartment complex down the road a bit, which is better housing than most of Allendale but sticks out like a sore thumb. Yale Ave. shows Allendale that it can change for the better and still be Allendale.

So this summer there was some work to be done on campus and also at a business PoP runs down there, WDMO (Windows, Doors, and More Outlet, or "widmo"). But most of us were sent out each day to neighbors' houses. Here's how the day went: breakfast at 6 AM, group morning prayer at 6:45, personal prayer time at 7:05, workday starts at 7:30. A list is posted outside one house to show who's on what crew and where they're going - you might not be on the same crew every day. There's all kinds of work to be done - in addition to Yale and WDMO, our team refinished a kitchen and a bathroom and painted two houses. Other teams in other years have propped up people's sagging porch roofs, hung new doors, and built wheelchair ramps. You might not have any experience in the work you're assigned to, but we all just have to learn.

Sometimes the work is gross. The first two days of this trip, I worked on this woman's kitchen cabinets. She wanted them refinished so we had to sand them down but we had to get the grease off first so I ended up spending long hours with dish soap, a green scrubby, and a paint scraper to get the cabinet doors ready for sanding. I had grease under my fingernails for days. But that really wasn't so bad. Grease happens, right? The other job I worked at was much harder. Trash and beer cans strewn everywhere, rotting food in the back yard, a pervasive sewer smell ... the first time you go to Allendale you wonder if it's worth it to do these fix-its when people's houses are still gross and/or falling apart. Having been there three times now, I'm past that particular issue - we desire to love them as Christ by meeting the needs that they want met - but this house certainly was difficult. One girl on my crew almost threw up one day from the smell. And we had a hard time getting work done in the backyard because nobody wanted to be near the corner with the rotting food and the flies.

But we just kept going.

The work is usually just hard too. In the heat and humidity of this past week, I was dripping sweat by 8 AM. My wrists were sore from painting, my ankles were aching from standing on ladders, my shoulders hurt from the wheelbarrow, which at times contained ten gallons of paint and a 5-gallon cooler of water. My right shoulder was bruised from carrying ladders. But ... it's wonderful. One day, heading home from the work site, there were two of us and just the one wheelbarrow. The other guy volunteered to take it; "No," I told him, "I'll wheel it to the end of the street here, then you can take over." At the end of the street he offered again. "No - just to the top of the hill there ..." When else do I get to really use my God-given health like this?

(Speaking of my God-given health, this body needs some rest, so this post is over ... tune in tomorrow, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel!)

I'm back!

2007-07-22T15:53:00.001-04:00

Two weeks later, here I am in South Bend. I have a lot to tell you all but I need some time to organize it all before blogging. Stay tuned ... in the meantime, here's a picture from midway through my trip - this is the house that my crew painted. I'll tell you all about it soon ...

2007-07-07T23:05:00.000-04:00

Leaving town tomorrow - a quick trip to Indy with seven teenagers, then caravan with seven or eight other people Monday for a full day's drive down to Shreveport, LA. It took me until tonight to get excited, to put on the reality of leaving here and going there and entering into another life for two weeks - I've finally reached that weird dreamy detached feeling of transition, when what has been doesn't matter a whole lot and the mind becomes focused on what's ahead. Running through it all in my head - the long hours on the road and the stiff exhausted greasy feeling when you've been in a car twelve hours and the refreshment of stepping out unsteadily onto ground and looking around when you arrive and you're finally there. And the clear and simple, hot and sweaty, life in Allendale - structured work and prayer and food that tastes so good after working, and the peaceful afternoons on the porch at the end of the workday, letting my hair dry in the Louisiana heat while I chat with people I've never met who are my brothers and sisters, and going to bed bone-tired, praise God.

I probably will not be blogging for the next couple of weeks, but I will collect stories to tell you when I get back. God bless you in the meantime, and keep us in your prayers!

My first digital photo!

2007-07-03T07:41:00.000-04:00

Not the best photo ever ... in the middle of a very sunny day ... but I just couldn't wait to take a picture with my new Olympus FE-210. I wanted my first pic to be of something special and this is what I decided on ... the St. Joseph River from the Angela Blvd. bridge, looking south. Whenever I walk "around the river", which is the traditional walk here at the Brewer household (through the neighborhood to Leeper Park, across the Michigan St. bridge, up Northshore Dr., across Angela) I stop and gaze at this view for a few moments. So here it is for you to enjoy.

humanity = relationship

2007-07-02T14:43:00.000-04:00

Check out this article from Christianity Today. About how "finding yourself" is a fallacy because we were created to be in relationship with others. Not created to be individuals.

some pictures

2007-06-23T16:15:00.000-04:00

"amazing"

2007-06-15T22:16:00.000-04:00

(This post is ridiculously long, read it when you have time.)

"God is the King. He's in charge of everything. And that's something that's really huge for us, that we've been learning as missionaries. And it's really good to be amazed by it. People- it's been my experience that people close to God are amazed a lot. Because - they know God, and God is amazing. And personally, for all of us, I think we've grown in our amazement."

- Nick during Wednesday night's talk

Cat and I drove down to Indianapolis last Saturday. The morning was sunny and we laughed our way down 31, sticking close to a fellow driver whom we dubbed "Speedmeister" and catching up with each other for the first time in weeks. She told me about Montre, whom she was going to visit. He'd been a student of hers and was now seriously ill in Riley Children's Hospital. Cat, who has the biggest heart of anyone I know, had been down to visit him a few weeks earlier and wanted nothing more than to stay by Montre's bedside, hold his hand, and read him some books. Montre had a trach and couldn't speak so she had made up a board with pictures of the book covers so that he could just point to the book he wanted.

I was along for the ride. She told me quite honestly that she'd understand if I didn't want to spend a lot of time in the hospital room. Montre was pretty sick and it could be hard to see. So when the missionaries with whom we were staying offered to have me hang out with them for the afternoon, I felt OK saying yes. We dropped Cat off at Riley and went over to the near southside to go "missionarying."

So who are these missionaries? They are Mary, Molly, Nick, Jon, Rus, Abe, Dan, Tom, and Brian. (There are others too who were not there last weekend.) You can read their blogs to find out more about them, or just keep reading this story. They're living in Indianapolis, with not much furniture and not much food, but what they do have is faith ...

After dropping off Cat, we drove down West St. and I started to recognize things. I lived a summer in Indianapolis, five years ago, living/working at Holy Family Shelter (my first time working with the homeless). I knew we were driving toward the "target area" where the missionaries do their stuff, and when we drove east on Raymond and took a left on Meridian I started to feel lightheaded. My neighborhood, the run-down little place that I had loved for those eight weeks and ever since - this was where the Lord had sent my friends to spread the good news. Amazing.

We went out by twos. Nick and I started walking north on Meridian. We had a thirty-second chat with a woman who left us to catch a bus, and then we hit the jackpot. A tall young man with tattoos and long hair was walking toward us, and Nick went straight up to him. "Hi, I'm Nick, and this is Sheila, and we're missionaries. Have you ever heard God talk to you?" I thought he would walk away, or at best, argue us down and/or cuss us out. Instead we had a half-hour talk about how God might work in the neighborhood, and what friendship with God might look like. Amazing.

Nick went off with this guy to talk more and he dropped me off with Jon and Molly. They were finishing a conversation with an alcoholic whom they had just baptized in the Holy Spirit. Amazing. We walked up the street a ways and Jon went chasing after a teenage guy carrying some groceries home. Did Jon really just do that? There's no way that kid really wants to talk to him. Half an hour later Jon has told him about God calling together his people Israel and the ways that God is calling people together today. "I don't know what to think about all this," the kid says. "But I think I want to be part of it." Amazing.

As Jon is finishing with the kid, Rus joins us, and he and Molly and I walk a few doors down. We meet Laura, a Christian who can't always get out to church because of old injuries that limit her movement. "We think God has called us to this neighborhood," Rus says. "What would it looked like if everyone came out on their porches every morning and prayed for the neighborhood?" We chat about that for a while and Molly moves in to create a relationship. "We'd like to share a meal with you. We can bring dinner over here if you can't get out. Here's my cell phone number." So now we've made a friend. Amazing.

Jon rejoins Molly, I go with Rus, we walk over one street and talk to a married couple on their porch. We talk more about friendship and reconciliation. This one is hard - their marriage is in trouble - and I am tempted to walk away. They don't seem to be listening. But maybe one ear is open. Rus, in courage and love for these people we've just met, keeps talking. Amazing. Sadly, we leave without "success" exactly. But keep praying as we walk down the porch steps and onto the street.

The last chat of the day is largely just funny. This guy asks us what we think happens to the soul after death, and in my first real contribution of the day, I tell him we actually spend a lot more time thinking about life before death. He then asks us if we think that Earth is the only planet with life on it ... what?

We get into the car and go to pick up Jon and Molly at White Castle where they just bought food for these homeless guys and also prayed with them. We drive home hot and tired and thirsty and hungry and sunburnt and - amazed. At least, I am amazed. "So is every day like this?" I ask someone. "Yeah," they reply, "pretty much."

We drive to Riley, and Molly and I go up to get Cat for dinner. Montre is doing pretty badly so Cat decides to stay with him. We can't enter the room without "suiting up" in gloves and gown, so Molly and I pray over Montre from just outside the room.

Dinner after such a day is absolutely perfect and delicious. Ray & Robin Gonzalez, an awesome couple from the PoP branch down there, make us tri-tip and salad and garlic bread ... "Thank you God, for giving us food!" the missionaries frequently sing when sitting down to a meal. Did I mention they don't eat lunch? Our stomachs filled, we work on the spirit with song after song - praise songs, Johnny Cash, you name it - Nick on the guitar, Rus doing some kind of stomping percussion, all of us with voices raised. Life together, generations together, joy together. Amazing.

It's getting late and Cat has been at the hospital about ten straight hours. When we go to pick her up, we find that Montre is still not too good and that Cat never ate dinner. We take her home, feed her some leftovers, and all go exhausted to sleep.

The next day , after church, Cat goes back to the hospital and I again chicken out and stay at the house. Mid-afternoon I go to Riley to pick up Cat so we can drive home and be back in time for soccer. She walks out of Riley, gets into the car, and tells me Montre is dying. One of the nurses said he probably won't make it through the night.

Now I finally go in with Cat.

I spend a short while sitting in the corner chair, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive, as Cat stands quietly at Montre's bedside holding his hand. Montre has been given some sort of paralytic drug so we have no way of knowing whether he's in pain, or whether he knows we are there. Montre's uncle comes in, we leave him to have time alone with Montre, and we visit the McDonald's on the first floor of the hospital because Cat has again forgotten to eat. We finish and the missionaries arrive to visit Montre and pray with him. (They've been regular visitors for the past couple of weeks.) They decide to keep a vigil and have two of them there at all times, switching off every hour and a half. Amazing.

For about three hours - broken up when the nurses shoo us out so they can clean Montre up - Cat and Mary and I pray with Montre. Mary tells us that she thinks the Lord wants to heal Montre and that we should keep praying for healing. Have you ever stood by a dying child and prayed fervently for his healing? Amazing. I wavered between really thinking he'd be healed, and just quietly saying, "Lord, you gave sight to the blind. I don't understand, but heal this boy."

It's eight o'clock at night and I have to be at work tomorrow. Cat is staying - she just can't leave Montre - and I drive her car back to South Bend alone, thinking about these two days of amazement.

***

To let you know the end of Montre's story - he died on Wednesday. I could give you halfhearted attempts at explaining what the heck God was doing there, but I really don't have any such words. For me, right now, I am simply amazed.

All weekend I was frustrated trying to find another word to use, instead of saying "amazing" over and over. But sometimes, there just aren't any words for it. God is King. I don't understand all of his ways, but he is King. And he is amazing.

this weekend

2007-06-11T08:58:00.000-04:00

How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, "Your God reigns!"
(Isaiah 52:7)

Later (when I'm not at work) I'll post more about my weekend with the missionaries in Indianapolis.

here in this place

2007-06-06T21:32:00.000-04:00

Being in my church choir means I get to sing a lot of lovely music, and sometimes some pretty dumb music too. Each one of us has songs we just groan over - some of the lowest on my list are "God of Eve & God of Mary"/"God of Adam, God of Joseph" and the second verse of "Dust and Ashes." There's also just a whole category of overused, done-to-death music from the 60's and 70's. "Gather Us In" is one of them, and Marty Haugen, who wrote it, is absolutely despised in some circles. Personally, "Gather" doesn't bother me much, although I could definitely sing it in my sleep. But this Monday, singing at a funeral at my church, I was struck by the fourth verse:

Not in the dark of buildings confining,
not in some heaven, light years away,
but here in this place, the new light is shining;
now is the Kingdom, now is the day.
Gather us in - and hold us forever,
gather us in - and make us your own.
Gather us in - all peoples together,
fire of love in our flesh and our bone.

Now perhaps my taste for liturgical music has been warped by too many years in the choir, but I got choked up singing this! Maybe just because it was an emotional event, but I think maybe because of the words too. Try reading it without hearing the tune in your head. (I know, it's almost impossible.) I think there are some good ideas here.

Anyway ... um ... no conclusion to this post ... just wanted to share.

last night at soccer

2007-06-04T08:04:00.000-04:00

Said to me by the biggest guy (and one of the more talented guys) on the field, as I, half as tall, ran around him time after time: "Oh man, can't you go guard someone else?"

when a stranger calls

2007-05-31T09:22:00.000-04:00

Wednesday night, at a quarter after midnight, the phone rang and jolted me out of sleep and into the creeps. I fumbled for my glasses and the lamp; got up and pulled on a robe; and went cautiously downstairs to check the caller ID. "Private Number," it said.

Now, logically, it was a wrong number and nothing to worry about. But logic is not my forte in the middle of the night when I am alone in the house, and all I could think about was these books I would read as a kid where the thieves call the house to see if anyone is home before they break in. Normally the heroine would thwart the intruders, with the aid of her fellow fifth-graders and a friendly policeman. But all my friends were asleep and all the policemen I know were off-duty.

But, the reason I was alone in the house to begin with was that Dan & Anne were in California, where it was three hours earlier. So I called Dan's cell phone. Dan gamely played along and made small talk with groggy creeped-out me until I felt safe enough to go back to bed. ("We'll invest in a pit bull," he said.) I have no idea how long it took me to get back to sleep, but I woke up Thursday morning sore from my muscles being stress-tight all night.

I figured I was done with that creepy feeling, though, since Laura was scheduled to get back from Minnesota last night (yes, we have a new person in household!) and I would no longer be alone in the house. But before she arrived, as I was puttering around the house, I noticed a pair of sunglasses sitting on the back porch table that were definitely not there yesterday morning. So someone was on our back porch yesterday ... I managed to sleep through the night pretty well, but I am really looking forward to Dan and Anne's return, when I will feel totally safe again!

surveyor's eye

2007-05-30T21:34:00.000-04:00

This evening I was sitting at a table with a ruler and pencil, meticulously laying out the design for a poem I am copying out for a gift.

My father, a surveyor, died thirteen years ago today. I've always figured I didn't inherit his surveyor's eye. Give me a yard and ask me how wide it is, I have no idea. I have no concept of large spaces, and distances. But you can definitely find me hunched over a piece of paper, measuring out the inches and eighths of inches and even the sixteenths ...

But it occurred to me this evening that you could actually find my dad doing the same thing. Once the wide open spaces were measured, he'd go to his drafting table with his cool triangular rulers and draw it all out. He had this great graph paper that I would steal sheets of to make multicolor designs when I was a little girl.

I only remember Dad's drafting table from when I was little. In later years he must have done most of his drafting at the office. So my image of him, as a worker, was standing out in the woods somewhere with a couple other guys, using three-legged instruments to capture the topography. Not something I comprehend much. But I can understand a pencil and a ruler, and he used those too, and I am my father's daughter.

put me in, coach

2007-05-28T21:16:00.000-04:00

Today at the beach I played volleyball with my friends. For me this is momentous! It's been almost a year since I started playing soccer, and that's been a joy, but I have still shied away from other sports. But today it was mostly my soccer friends that I was playing with, so I felt safe enough to try it. And of course I was terrible, but I had fun and I didn't turn the game into a total disaster. So now I have another sport that I can play without crying ;) But what really impressed me was what kind and encouraging friends I have. Sarah, knowing what it took for me to go out there, told me in the middle of the game, "I am so proud of you right now." Daniel took the time to explain all the rules so I wasn't so lost. (The ball kind of sailed over our heads a few times while he was explaining, but that was OK.) Kyle showed me how to serve and I actually got the ball over the net twice in a row!

Some of you reading this might not be familiar with this concept, but in PoP we sometimes talk about a friend "being Christ" to us. Which basically means, that person brought into everyday reality the love that Christ has for us - they put it into action. With that in mind ...

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
I can play any sport in the world through Sarah, Daniel & Kyle who strengthen me.

Wedding Day

2007-05-19T22:23:00.000-04:00

I woke up to sunshine in the east-facing guest room. Courtney would have a beautiful wedding day. The bride herself pushed open the door and sprinted to the spare closet. "Sorry," she whispered. "I have to get my veil."

"Have fun getting your hair done," I murmured, half-asleep.

After she left I lay in bed just being amazed at what was about to happen. My little niece was getting married. I am only six and a half years older than Courtney, but that's old enough for me to remember her mom's pregnancy, and her baptism, and the way she followed me around like a puppy when I was nine years old. Visiting at my house for holidays, she used to push me to one end of a hallway, then return to the other end, and then run full force down the length of it and slam into my legs with a hug. I remember when she was nine and I stopped thinking of her as just a kid and started thinking of her as just a little younger. She is still so young, though, and this morning I was awed at the thought that she was about to pledge her eighteen-year-old self to Joe.

Not that Joe isn't a decent guy to pledge her life to. I've just gotten to know him a bit this week and am entirely pleased with the way he treats her and the way he fits into the family. He is easygoing and laid-back, sweet and funny, and they looked so comfortable together this week, it was a joy to see.

I could tell you all the details of today - the wedding and reception were beautiful, the day was crazy but everything eventually worked - but I wanted to share with you my experience of this wedding. And as beautiful as everything was today, what I will remember is that moment of sunshine thinking about these two young people, about their innocent and bold and courageous and simple love for each other, and knowing that God had already joined them, and praying that no one will ever separate them.

WD - 1 (belatedly)

2007-05-19T08:47:00.000-04:00

The Day Before the Wedding was pretty full, and there's lots I could tell you about flowers and errands and the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, but the event of the day was last night. We got home from the dinner at ... 9:30 maybe? ... and Deb set to work decorating the last section of the cake. Then Deb, Craig, Ben, Vicki and I piled into the car, holding sections of cake. We had to get in one by one - each person got in, buckled the seat belt, and then was handed his or her cake section. Craig was the last one in and had the formidable task of driving us over 45 minutes of country roads and highway 15 South without hitting any bumps large enough to disturb the delicate balancing acts inside the car. This was sometime after 11 PM, by the way, and we all got a little punchy. "I spy something white." "Cake!" "I spy something round." "Cake!"

At one point Ben and Vicki pointed out that in the warmth of the car, my cake was slowly sliding across the wax paper and creeping closer to my sweater. I had to rotate it carefully around so it could slide back towards the center of the circle. Other than that, though, we had no mishaps, and the cake arrived at the Holiday Inn unscathed. Praise God.

Then we spent more time setting up the cake table, and drove back, and finally got to bed around 1:30 AM. The sunlight and The Wedding Day woke us all up early-ish this morning, though, and for now I think we're all running on adrenaline. I think all of us, especially Deb, will crash pretty hard sometime this evening when everything is over. But for now, the adventure continues ...

WD - 2

2007-05-17T17:55:00.000-04:00

Last night was the shopping marathon. Deb and I visited at least five different stores collecting wedding items - emergency supplies (deodorant and tissues) for the bridal party, flower holders for the mothers' bouquets, six packages of strawberries for the chocolate fountain at the reception ... it was ten o'clock by the time we got home, and then Deb stayed up to do some more baking.

A side note on how much I love this place. Before going to bed last night I went to get something from my car and it is so very dark out here at night that if I didn't have my remote to blink the lights, I wouldn't have been able to find it. But, looking up, I remembered again how many stars there are up there. I honestly never knew what the night sky was supposed to look like until one summer night when my brothers and I came out here to visit and slept outside. I laid back on my sleeping bag and was astonished at all those stars. It still surprises me, every time I'm out here.

This morning we left early to run errands and have been working on the cake since we got back. Or rather, Deb's been working on the cake and I've been cleaning up the bowls and pans in between batches. Between yesterday and today, Deb has made six cakes, about a billion cupcakes with leftover batter (I'm learning about baking. She can't just save the leftover batter for the next section of the cake because of what the baking soda would do during the extra time; if she mixed the old batter in with new batter it would make an uneven cake), and three (or was it four?) batches of frosting. She's put the crumb coat on most of the cakes and will decorate them all this evening.

And, of course, all of this activity has been interrupted frequently by phone calls from various people ... the best one was from the bride herself. I heard only Deb's half of the conversation. "The bridesmaids are all sleeping here Friday night? No, you didn't tell me that before ..."

The adventure continues ...

WD - 3

2007-05-16T11:50:00.000-04:00

Three days until Courtney's wedding. I am out here in Liberty, PA (pop. 868) helping my sister Deb for the next few days til her daughter, my niece, gets married. I arrived last night, had dinner, and plunged into the midst of it. We got all the candleholders ready with the fake vines wrapped around them and then took about a hundred wedding favors out of their boxes. This morning we went to decorate with bows and tulle at the cutest little country church you've ever seen. Right now Joe and Courtney are practicing their first dance in the living room. Courtney is wearing her big puffy slip over her T-shirt and jeans, and Joe (the Marine) is in his uniform jacket and cargo pants. I'm having so much fun being behind the scenes here. Praise God for family, and friends, and weddings!

read any good books lately?

2007-05-11T23:00:00.000-04:00

I read some books yearly. Christy by Catherine Marshall. The Chosen by Chaim Potok. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. In the past couple years, The Grapes of Wrath has been added to the list. These are different from my heavy-reading, PLS-major books (e.g. War and Peace) and also different from my bedside-table light reading (e.g. The #1 Ladies' Detective Agency), although the categories mingle sometimes. Last year I had some light reading that I affectionately labeled "Amish romance novels" - the Abram's Daughters series by Beverly Lewis - and right in the middle of enjoying/ridiculing it, I happened upon one amazing and inspiring character who still kind of lives in my mind. I'll probably go back and read at least one book from the series again, and it has the potential to join my yearly list.

There are other books that I have reread numerous times (Alas, Babylon; Little Women; anything by Jane Austen), and they are a part of my personal culture and my language (shelves in the closet! Happy thought indeed!), but those first four I listed - they are a part of my soul. ... it took me about five minutes to write that last sentence because "part of my soul" sounded at once too cheesy and too intense. But I just can't think of any other way to put it.

So, what I want to know is, what are the books that are part of your soul? Not a book that you did in book club recently and it was kind of cool, or that you studied in college and had excellent metaphors - but a book that is part of who you are. Let me know, because I'd like to read it.

Totally Homemade Meal

2007-05-10T10:02:00.000-04:00

Clockwise from top: homemade pita bread; salad; homemade hummus; and curried carrot soup. Last night's dinner was ENTIRELY from scratch ... the only exceptions were the veggie bouillon in the carrot soup recipe (I think I made up for that by pureeing two pounds of carrots) and the salad dressing. I managed to get it done in just under two hours, but only with lots of planning and concentration and the assistance of master dishwasher Anne Brewer, who generously cleaned up as I went along. She also generously took this picture with her digital after I mentioned I was so proud of it I wanted to put it on my blog. Thanks Anne!

driving home

2007-05-05T22:13:00.000-04:00

Last Tuesday I wanted to write about how much I love driving home at the end of my late shift at the shelter. Cruising down Lafayette (the lights are all timed) at the end of a long day, usually happy with the work I've done ... breathing the night air and looking forward to my pillow and some much-needed rest ... I love driving home on Tuesday nights.

But just now, driving home after Cold Stone with Katie and some wedding-gift-shopping at Target, I realized I just love driving home at night. Whenever. From wherever. And I think what that means is that I love my town and I love my life.

I truly love South Bend (and if you think that's weird, well, I'm not open to listening to you right now). It is my home now and there are a hundred little reminders and memories always around the corner. Going through the roundabout at Twyckenham &Douglas reminds me of Owen & Claudia and our "exciting" trip to the Brewers' house when I moved (they were thrilled at corners and hills). Driving by ND, of course, always makes me nostalgic for college. Driving downtown makes me think of nights with friends at Fiddler's, and also of the street people I sometimes recognize from the shelter. Even commercialized Grape Rd., which I drove down tonight - the jeweler's reminds me of my recently engaged coworkers, Olive Garden makes me think of going out to dinner with Mom & Marshall and my roommate's parents one move-in weekend, and I even drive by the bowling alley where my women's group spent an evening celebrating a birthday. I am so comfortable in this town and happy to be where I am.

And I love my life. Whenever I am driving home late at night, that means I've had something valuable to do until late at night, and that's a great thing! Sharing life with my women's group; working hard at the shelter; singing with my choir friends; going out with the PoP young adults; going to Lord's Day; playing soccer ... what an amazing blessing, to have a life so full. To be so full of life! And at the end of the night, to have that time to myself, thinking back on my day, looking ahead to rest, praising God for my work and my friends and my life and my health ... praise God. I'm the luckiest girl I know.