When I last wrote, it was butt cold at thirty below zero here in Minnesota. With the temperature not improving much, many of you may be asking just what the heck one would find pleasure in way up here in the land of over 10,000 lakes? Whereas I would agree with you regarding the ridiculous temps here - it was again below zero here this morning - there is one very important positive sell-point about winter in Minnesota: Sledding. Used as both verb and noun in the upper regions of the United States, this pastime is glorious, dangerous and a source for 80% of snow time fun - a true adventure in every sense. In the last two weeks, I've had the pleasure of sledding twice - here's a quick "all-you-need-to-know" about sledding, based on my recent experience.
Clothing & Armor:
Dressing in layers is essential. But unlike other parts of the country where it is expected that you will eventually strip off the layers as you go, there will be none of the sort here. The first time out it was 6 degrees. From bottom to top, this is what I wore: snow boots, two pairs of socks, long underwear, jeans, windpants, long-sleeve underwear top, t-shirt, sweatshirt w/hood, winter jacket, leather chop mittens, scarf and hat. That's right, 13 layers. My feet still froze - and the other weak link of the armor is the wrists. No matter how much you lock-down everything, there is always a place the snow manages to break into. The second time out it was a balmy 18 degrees and I wore pretty much the same thing as before - only this time, I was too warm and actually felt like taking the jacket off. I did not, because the last thing I wanted was to remove a layer of cushion from my body (more on this later.)
The Sleds:
Every sledding adventure requires sleds - duh. Rebecca and I only had one to our name - a flimsy plastic roll-up "sled." It was actually quite a good little sled, but we needed a few more to make the first outing a bit more exciting. We purchased two plastic saucers (like the one Chevy Chase uses in Christmas Vacation, just not aluminum.)
The Hill(s):
For the first adventure, we stayed in our neighborhood and found a nice little bowl-shaped park. There were several kids already sledding, which was a good sign - if the local kids are there, it's good enough for big kids like us. The part of the hill they were using included a mound for slalom sledding - not huge, but big enough to give you and your sled a little air time. We opted to work our way up to that. The first run was steep enough to provide a burst of speed and what it lacked in height it made up for in length. The next hill we tried was our favorite - steeper than the first and much faster - we could even race one another. There were a few white-out moments where you'd hit a patch of powder and kick up snow into your face, thereby cooling you down, not to mention temporarily blinding you. By the time we got to the jump, we were all sledded out. I braved it first and was kind of disappointed - it wasn't as thrilling as I thought it'd be, but was still fun nonetheless.
The second adventure was by far the most exciting of all. Hitting a teenage hotspot of mine - Columbia Golf Course - was the sledding site of choice for this evening outing. Light pollution made it easy to see, so it's not as dangerous as it could have been - but it was still risky, no doubt about it. We had the place to ourselves that night, and it was somewhat understandable as to why - for as far as the eye could see, the entire hill was covered in ice - sheer ice. The snow was compacted and all that was left was sheet after sheet of ice - it looked incredibly intense. I don't know how fast we were really going, but I'd venture to guess that we probably hit 30 mph - maybe even faster. At times it sounded like an airplane taking off - especially when we doubled up. For this sledding occasion, there were four of us - myself, my wife, my brother Dave and his friend Kent - and we definitely rocked that monster of a hill for the full 2 and a half hours - from 7:30 pm to 10 last Saturday, we were death-defying speed racers, screaming and zooming all the way down that hill. The downside to all that speed was of course the A) inability to stop due to ice and short reaction time and B) surfaces that made your insides shake as you bounced over every icy bump, feeling your body bruising all night long and C) getting back up the hill over and over again. The getting back up was the universally hated part of the evening, as everyone tasted the shame of continual foothold slippage and faceplanting into the icy hillside and then scrambling to regain your grip as you slid backwards down where you came from. This was also the source of many a laugh and chuckle - especially during the later parts of the night when confidence was riding at its highest. Perhaps the craziest of all was that one tree that seemed to have a gravitational death wish for us all - no matter how many times we thought we had steered clear of it, it would always find us and pull us toward it - making for some very close calls and last minute escapes and bail outs.
There is nothing more invigorating than the "sled train," where we'd all link legs and plummet down the hill together at break-neck speed, trying to top our last mark over and over and over again. Sledding never got old that night, each run was just as fun as the last - not too cold and no one else to compete with - it was perfect. Eventually, our bodies had taken enough abuse for one night and we called it quits - to which I am still recovering five days later. Would I do it all over again, even despite the bruises in un-sightly places? Absolutely. Next time you've got the need for speed and have 3 pairs of pants, a couple pairs of socks, boots, a warm jacket and mittens - give me a call.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Thirty Below
Winter in Minnesota has come in full force. These last few days have been brutal if you're a Luther seminary student like me. Slammed by final paper fever, I have been cranking out the typing like Jack in The Shining. Then, for a little break, I can go outside and enjoy the negative thirty degree weather - woohoo! Oh, good times have arrived my friends - good times.
This is primarily for my Richmond, Virginia peeps - you may officially begun to chuckle. Against your snickers and advice, we moved back here - by choice. It is 57 degrees in Richmond right now. That is an 80 degree difference. Here come the tears.
I am about to venture up the hill, on my way to the last day of my Monday classes for the semester. Is it tempting to stay inside and get some more papers and final assignments done? Almost as tempting as just climbing back into bed. I have thought about both - but, alas, I must face ol' man winter (who is being a real jerk lately) and fulfill my duty as a student. I know I could choose otherwise, but part of me just wants to finish strong, amidst the icey trials that are mocking me. I will look to my armor to protect me: long underwear (top and bottom), pants, two pairs of socks, sweatshirt hoody, jacket, hat, leather mitten chops and my trusty ol' boots. I love my boots. I will cover everything but my eyes, get my Minnesota shoulder hunch going and away I go, slipping and sliding away on the black ice, up hill, to the other end of campus.
Am I bitter? Not yet. I am still getting used to this actually. I like the change in scenery and the way the snow feels underfoot. I also like how my wussy-ness is being put to the test. I went to a guys night out party last night, watched some Sunday Night Football and then played snow football during half time. It was 13 below when we started. I honestly lost feeling in my pinky fingers half way through. I also couldn't stop kicking myself for opting against the long underwear, talking myself out of it: "We won't play now that its this cold, right honey?" She didn't have an opinion - I decided I wouldn't play even if they wanted to. I was wrong on both counts, realizing I had become a real wuss. This must change. We had a good time, but oh my word, it was SO COLD. Ok, I have put my walk off long enough. Farewell my friends. Have a wonderful day, wherever you are. And for those of you Minnesotans reading this - God be with you!
It is NOT all in the mind people. So don't even go there!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
The Mouth Mechanic
With two hours to go until December, I am barely continuing my streak of consecutive months with a post. I could easily rattle off a million and one excuses for my absence of late, but that will just give away my future post topics. But, for those of you interested, here are a few reasons: a Wedding, homework, football game watching (I am currently pulling myself away from the Bears-Vikes game on Sunday Night Football), reading, church, visiting family etc etc. It's been a busy six weeks - no excuse for not writing of course, but I digress...
When it comes to automobile mechanics, I am certainly not in my element - which isn't anything new to those of you who truly know me. Although I have slowly become more adept at other kinds of "handy-man" skills, as soon as people start talking in their expert language of any kind - you know, in matters like wine, foreign countries, power tools, fantasy football, literature greats etc, I tend to slide into silent wonderment. The questions begin flying through my mind quickly and most times, so does the humor as I poke fun at myself for knowing so little of what these people are talking about. Then, for mere self entertainment, I become a professional yes man, pretending that I know exactly what they are saying - giving nods, laughs and affirmative quips to let them know that I'm following. So, I recently paid a visit to my new dentist - aka, the mouth mechanic - and I realize that this is no longer possible. I am like a inanimate car in the shop, hood wide open and unable to do anything but let 'em work. Then the questioning and investigation begins, and I'm given approximately 3 seconds to respond in between spitting into a vacuum tube and opening wide again. Many of you are now in yes man mode - you're following right?
The last 4 and a half years in Richmond, Virginia, I have had the most pleasurable dental visits of my life. Almost every visit I was practically worshiped - my timeliness and impeccable teeth were inspected and celebrated by the hygienists and dentists. They always told me to "keep up the good work" as I was in and out in 30 minutes or less. Yes, I could usually expect to be in a great mood after dentist appointments. This was new territory after all - my youth and bachelor years were marred with less than favorable marks. So, I have been kind of riding high as of late - feeling a tad invincible if you will. Then I went in last Wednesday, and I was brought back to square one in my first visit with the new guys.
My teeth still achieved high marks - which was a great start. I also scored a few bonus brownine points for having brought them my X-Rays from my previous dentist. Then my new hygienist sat me down and started the "counting test" of my gums. And so began the expert talk I described above - "1-1-2-3-3-3-2-3-3-3..." Some big words followed, then some more counting, then a few more words I was trying to decipher - you get the idea. What the heck is she talking about? I found myself rooting for my gums - "c'mon 1's and 2's..." Although I hadn't seen a key, I knew the higher the score got, the worse off I was. Just a hunch. Then she starting throwing out stuff like, "Bleeding spots" - and I knew we didn't want any of those. She also spotted my "abrasion" which occurred the day or two before when giving my mouth its pre-dentist appointment floss rehearsal. Some time ago, I decided to just be straight up with the dentist when the inevitable "How often do you floss?" question popped up. Now, I'm not saying I never floss - but I certainly don't floss as much as they recommend to. I think a few years ago they asked the dreaded question, and instead of beating around the bush and telling a white lie or two, I just fessed up and said "Today." To which she responded, "No, how often do you floss a week?" And I said again, "today." I at least made myself laugh. Anywho, back to the other day.
Just when I think I'm getting out of there with my new toothbrush and floss and the recommendation to floss more frequently, I get dropped with a bombshell. I am a moderate risk for gum disease?! I'm not brushing properly?! My gums are receding? They recommend to take out my other two wisdom teeth? Yeah - I definitely felt the wind in my sails deflate a tad more than expected. So my mechanics tell me that I've been brushing too hard, which has negatively affected my gums and due to my infrequent flossing in hard to reach areas, bacteria is having its way with my gums in those spots. To my credit, my useless wisdom teeth have made it very difficult on me and thus need to be extracted to save me from becoming a probable victim of gum disease - so, not a whole lot I could've done to avoid that. But the brushing technique/routine changes rocked my world. I've been coached in the art of tooth massage from now on - none of this "brush the hell out of my teeth" maneuvering - oh no - its all about circular motions and lifting from tooth to tooth, no more dragging. So those electric toothbrush users I've been mocking all these years have been right all along. I've been experimenting with this new method and I've got to say, I feel like I'm not doing anything constructive anymore. I'm simply not coordinated enough to adjust like this after all these years. I'm doing my best, but I don't like it.
Maybe this is a stretch here, but it dawned on me that perhaps we feel so resistant to change because it's simply too hard to switch gears after being programmed one particular way for so long. Change can suck. Here I've been a proponent of change for so long, but when it truly hits you where it hurts, everything finally comes into focus. I/we just have to tell ourselves that if asked or challenged to change for the right reasons, for better health, self-improvement, peace or societal welfare we need to stick with it no matter how uncomfortable/painful and awkward it feels. So, I am going to make these mouth routine changes - brushing better and flossing everyday so that come my next check-up, I'll be back on a gold star rampage.
When it comes to automobile mechanics, I am certainly not in my element - which isn't anything new to those of you who truly know me. Although I have slowly become more adept at other kinds of "handy-man" skills, as soon as people start talking in their expert language of any kind - you know, in matters like wine, foreign countries, power tools, fantasy football, literature greats etc, I tend to slide into silent wonderment. The questions begin flying through my mind quickly and most times, so does the humor as I poke fun at myself for knowing so little of what these people are talking about. Then, for mere self entertainment, I become a professional yes man, pretending that I know exactly what they are saying - giving nods, laughs and affirmative quips to let them know that I'm following. So, I recently paid a visit to my new dentist - aka, the mouth mechanic - and I realize that this is no longer possible. I am like a inanimate car in the shop, hood wide open and unable to do anything but let 'em work. Then the questioning and investigation begins, and I'm given approximately 3 seconds to respond in between spitting into a vacuum tube and opening wide again. Many of you are now in yes man mode - you're following right?
The last 4 and a half years in Richmond, Virginia, I have had the most pleasurable dental visits of my life. Almost every visit I was practically worshiped - my timeliness and impeccable teeth were inspected and celebrated by the hygienists and dentists. They always told me to "keep up the good work" as I was in and out in 30 minutes or less. Yes, I could usually expect to be in a great mood after dentist appointments. This was new territory after all - my youth and bachelor years were marred with less than favorable marks. So, I have been kind of riding high as of late - feeling a tad invincible if you will. Then I went in last Wednesday, and I was brought back to square one in my first visit with the new guys.
My teeth still achieved high marks - which was a great start. I also scored a few bonus brownine points for having brought them my X-Rays from my previous dentist. Then my new hygienist sat me down and started the "counting test" of my gums. And so began the expert talk I described above - "1-1-2-3-3-3-2-3-3-3..." Some big words followed, then some more counting, then a few more words I was trying to decipher - you get the idea. What the heck is she talking about? I found myself rooting for my gums - "c'mon 1's and 2's..." Although I hadn't seen a key, I knew the higher the score got, the worse off I was. Just a hunch. Then she starting throwing out stuff like, "Bleeding spots" - and I knew we didn't want any of those. She also spotted my "abrasion" which occurred the day or two before when giving my mouth its pre-dentist appointment floss rehearsal. Some time ago, I decided to just be straight up with the dentist when the inevitable "How often do you floss?" question popped up. Now, I'm not saying I never floss - but I certainly don't floss as much as they recommend to. I think a few years ago they asked the dreaded question, and instead of beating around the bush and telling a white lie or two, I just fessed up and said "Today." To which she responded, "No, how often do you floss a week?" And I said again, "today." I at least made myself laugh. Anywho, back to the other day.
Just when I think I'm getting out of there with my new toothbrush and floss and the recommendation to floss more frequently, I get dropped with a bombshell. I am a moderate risk for gum disease?! I'm not brushing properly?! My gums are receding? They recommend to take out my other two wisdom teeth? Yeah - I definitely felt the wind in my sails deflate a tad more than expected. So my mechanics tell me that I've been brushing too hard, which has negatively affected my gums and due to my infrequent flossing in hard to reach areas, bacteria is having its way with my gums in those spots. To my credit, my useless wisdom teeth have made it very difficult on me and thus need to be extracted to save me from becoming a probable victim of gum disease - so, not a whole lot I could've done to avoid that. But the brushing technique/routine changes rocked my world. I've been coached in the art of tooth massage from now on - none of this "brush the hell out of my teeth" maneuvering - oh no - its all about circular motions and lifting from tooth to tooth, no more dragging. So those electric toothbrush users I've been mocking all these years have been right all along. I've been experimenting with this new method and I've got to say, I feel like I'm not doing anything constructive anymore. I'm simply not coordinated enough to adjust like this after all these years. I'm doing my best, but I don't like it.
Maybe this is a stretch here, but it dawned on me that perhaps we feel so resistant to change because it's simply too hard to switch gears after being programmed one particular way for so long. Change can suck. Here I've been a proponent of change for so long, but when it truly hits you where it hurts, everything finally comes into focus. I/we just have to tell ourselves that if asked or challenged to change for the right reasons, for better health, self-improvement, peace or societal welfare we need to stick with it no matter how uncomfortable/painful and awkward it feels. So, I am going to make these mouth routine changes - brushing better and flossing everyday so that come my next check-up, I'll be back on a gold star rampage.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tested
I had my first seminary exam yesterday. I made it through! The whole test-preparing and test-taking stuff is an absolute roller coaster of emotion. I knew coming into seminary that I was feeling good about the papers - writing, I can handle (Exhibit A: My blog). Exams on the other hand are a completely different story. I compare it to the likes of building up the courage to kiss a girl for the first time.
I've been understanding all of the material for this class from day one. It's not like it was over my head or anything, so studying was not the hard part of this task. The exam anticipation was by far the most arduous and torture inducing. I started to really hit the books hard the day before the test for I had other projects to complete prior. Much to my wife's scoffing, I took the time to type out my notes and create a study guide, complete with questions. Like creating a cheat sheet (when allowed of course) I found myself soaking the notes up again and becoming more fluent in the material. Then I studied my little heart out - reading, re-reading and asking myself the questions over and over and over again. By Wednesday night I was beginning to come a little unglued. Rebecca quizzed me and I felt I had a really good handle on everything - I was confident to be certain, but not overconfident. I think I dreamed about the test all night. By the time the morning came, I was a nervous wreck. I felt kind of queasy all over and just really really unsettled. I had given blood the night before, and thought maybe this had something to do with my ill feelings. I disregarded that reason and knew that I was doing this to myself. I tried to shake it off and assure myself that everything was going to be okay and that I was going to rock this test.
Similarly, this is exactly what ol' Keith went through when he prepared to kiss a girl for the first time. I will not give specifics of when this fateful moment occurred, but just know that it was not during my pre-teenage years like most people. It was well into my teens. Okay, okay - I was like 15 - during my sophomore year of high school. I had planned to make my move on a date around Christmas time - and I had it all figured out. I was so nervous and excited to get my first one done with. Did I mention that I was terrified? My palms were sweating the whole night. I did a countdown from ten about twenty times. And then, I made my move and whammo - my target moved and I had to abort the mission half way through. Some of you have probably heard this story a few times. I like to tell it because well, I still feel these same emotions now - nearly 15 years later (not when kissing!) No, I found myself feeling this exact same way as I prepared to take an exam yesterday. I just couldn't stay calm - it didn't matter how many times I counted myself down - I was still nervous amidst all the anticipation. Then the test arrived and I could finally focus on the task at hand. The nerves were restored. I knew I was almost home free. I sailed through the first page, no problems whatsoever. I felt great at the half way mark. Then, I set my sights on the essay on the back page. It was not what I expected despite the hundred or so times our professor described it. I had to quickly re-evaluate and re-focus my strategy, just like when my initial kiss attempt was inadvertently blocked all those years ago...
Settling back into the chair, I was half laughing and half crying at my luck - just as I had made my move, she too decided it was time to move - to adjust in her seat, and in so doing, had her head downward, unable to see an eager Keith diving in lips first. Not wanting to be there when her face returned to facing forward, I practically leapt backward and played it cool. My strategy? Thwarted. My confidence? Shaken. My determination? Rock solid. Oh, I was going to succeed, I just had to do a little readjusting myself... I stared at the blank page before me, wondering to myself how I was going to write this essay. I clarified with the professor what I had to do - just so I wouldn't take off down the wrong alley and get clobbered by a bad grade. Then, taking a deep breath and getting spiritually centered, I was off and writing.
The end of the date had arrived and I was still first kiss-less. I saw my opportunity present itself and not holding anything back, I went for it and...I succeeded. I landed my first kiss and when it was over, .0078 seconds later, I was a man. That's right, I knew I had just done what it takes to enter manhood - some of you may have other standards - but my personal kiss quest was all I needed for establishing myself as invincible. The thing I learned the most was that the kiss itself was easy. It was amazing in my 15 year old mind to be certain, but looking back on that lip to lip peck, it was an absolute breeze compared to everything that preceded it. And so it was with this test. I had done a thoroughly solid job in preparing for it and as a result, I was able to make an excellent effort and feel pretty good about it. Pretty, pretty, pretty good. Upon finishing, I left feeling amazed at how a two page test had so inflicted my psyche. Like that first kiss, getting the first test out of the way feels like reaching a milestone of a different proportion. Relieved? Yes. Satisfied? Yes. Worth all of the drama? Probably not.
So regardless of the tests we face in life, I know that we are ultimately our own worst enemies. Getting past ourselves and the build up is priority and challenge numero uno. Preparation is key - the more we can get our ships stocked, the better chances of survival and peace of mind. I know that some tests will be unexpected, but that doesn't mean we can't stay prepared. So just take a deep breath, get centered and dive in.
I've been understanding all of the material for this class from day one. It's not like it was over my head or anything, so studying was not the hard part of this task. The exam anticipation was by far the most arduous and torture inducing. I started to really hit the books hard the day before the test for I had other projects to complete prior. Much to my wife's scoffing, I took the time to type out my notes and create a study guide, complete with questions. Like creating a cheat sheet (when allowed of course) I found myself soaking the notes up again and becoming more fluent in the material. Then I studied my little heart out - reading, re-reading and asking myself the questions over and over and over again. By Wednesday night I was beginning to come a little unglued. Rebecca quizzed me and I felt I had a really good handle on everything - I was confident to be certain, but not overconfident. I think I dreamed about the test all night. By the time the morning came, I was a nervous wreck. I felt kind of queasy all over and just really really unsettled. I had given blood the night before, and thought maybe this had something to do with my ill feelings. I disregarded that reason and knew that I was doing this to myself. I tried to shake it off and assure myself that everything was going to be okay and that I was going to rock this test.
Similarly, this is exactly what ol' Keith went through when he prepared to kiss a girl for the first time. I will not give specifics of when this fateful moment occurred, but just know that it was not during my pre-teenage years like most people. It was well into my teens. Okay, okay - I was like 15 - during my sophomore year of high school. I had planned to make my move on a date around Christmas time - and I had it all figured out. I was so nervous and excited to get my first one done with. Did I mention that I was terrified? My palms were sweating the whole night. I did a countdown from ten about twenty times. And then, I made my move and whammo - my target moved and I had to abort the mission half way through. Some of you have probably heard this story a few times. I like to tell it because well, I still feel these same emotions now - nearly 15 years later (not when kissing!) No, I found myself feeling this exact same way as I prepared to take an exam yesterday. I just couldn't stay calm - it didn't matter how many times I counted myself down - I was still nervous amidst all the anticipation. Then the test arrived and I could finally focus on the task at hand. The nerves were restored. I knew I was almost home free. I sailed through the first page, no problems whatsoever. I felt great at the half way mark. Then, I set my sights on the essay on the back page. It was not what I expected despite the hundred or so times our professor described it. I had to quickly re-evaluate and re-focus my strategy, just like when my initial kiss attempt was inadvertently blocked all those years ago...
Settling back into the chair, I was half laughing and half crying at my luck - just as I had made my move, she too decided it was time to move - to adjust in her seat, and in so doing, had her head downward, unable to see an eager Keith diving in lips first. Not wanting to be there when her face returned to facing forward, I practically leapt backward and played it cool. My strategy? Thwarted. My confidence? Shaken. My determination? Rock solid. Oh, I was going to succeed, I just had to do a little readjusting myself... I stared at the blank page before me, wondering to myself how I was going to write this essay. I clarified with the professor what I had to do - just so I wouldn't take off down the wrong alley and get clobbered by a bad grade. Then, taking a deep breath and getting spiritually centered, I was off and writing.
The end of the date had arrived and I was still first kiss-less. I saw my opportunity present itself and not holding anything back, I went for it and...I succeeded. I landed my first kiss and when it was over, .0078 seconds later, I was a man. That's right, I knew I had just done what it takes to enter manhood - some of you may have other standards - but my personal kiss quest was all I needed for establishing myself as invincible. The thing I learned the most was that the kiss itself was easy. It was amazing in my 15 year old mind to be certain, but looking back on that lip to lip peck, it was an absolute breeze compared to everything that preceded it. And so it was with this test. I had done a thoroughly solid job in preparing for it and as a result, I was able to make an excellent effort and feel pretty good about it. Pretty, pretty, pretty good. Upon finishing, I left feeling amazed at how a two page test had so inflicted my psyche. Like that first kiss, getting the first test out of the way feels like reaching a milestone of a different proportion. Relieved? Yes. Satisfied? Yes. Worth all of the drama? Probably not.
So regardless of the tests we face in life, I know that we are ultimately our own worst enemies. Getting past ourselves and the build up is priority and challenge numero uno. Preparation is key - the more we can get our ships stocked, the better chances of survival and peace of mind. I know that some tests will be unexpected, but that doesn't mean we can't stay prepared. So just take a deep breath, get centered and dive in.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Giving my heart a break
A lot has happened over the last 18 days. The fall season has finally arrived in Minnesota and has been a pleasant one at that. With the coming of a new season, many new transitions have begun not only in my life, but I suspect in many others' as well.
In the last eighteen days I've had to say goodbye to my dear grandmother, Edna "Oma" Tabbert and begin to experience the same farewell process with my wife whose grandmother was hospitalized shortly after learning of Oma's death. There is no easy way of dealing with such sadness and heartbreak - one just has to muster the strength and focus to continue forward while allowing yourself to heal at its own pace. While I haven't necessarily been buried in grief yet, I have noticed a decline in my inner peace, a certain uneasiness taking over. I awoke this morning to unsettling dreams and a feeling of heaviness in my heart. I decided that I needed to remedy my soul - so I did the following: 1) watched a favorite movie, "Stranger than Fiction" 2) cleaned and re-organized the apartment front closet and 3) wrote in my blog.
During the movie, I was able to find release. I just allowed myself to be sucked into the plot and roll with the storyline and characters. I found myself shedding some tears at the emotional parts and being re-inspired again from the beautifully written script and message. The lines that stood out during this viewing were: "Go and live the life you've always wanted!" "I'm already dead - just not typed." "The hero dies but the story lives on forever." These three lines stood out and tugged at the ol' heart-strings, especially given the recent events transpiring around me. I thought of Oma and how her life was heroic to so many - how she just embodied love and brought so much joy and grace to our lives. Knowing she's at rest and living anew in heaven is comforting and reassuring - and how the "story lives on forever" part has become evident in those left without her as we remind ourselves of her life and experiences.
Then I thought about how true it is of all of us - "already dead, just not typed." With death closing in on those in sickness and terminal illnesses like Grandma Vera, we all are reminded of our own mortality - knowing that some day we'll all continue to the next life. I say this not to be morbid, although it most certainly is, but to paint a picture of what it means to be dead but not typed. Like the first quote of living the life you've always wanted, we all find ourselves reflecting on this throughout the course of our lives. Am I living the way I dreamed I'd be? Death has a way of shaking us and slapping us across the face and demanding a heartfelt and genuine response. Since I know that I am in fact already dead, or going to die, what is it that I have left unfinished before the final period is typed and it's all over? It's amazing to witness God's love and beauty in the simplest of ways and actions around us - especially in those dying. The peace that transcends all understanding has a way of being expressed which assures us that everything is going to be okay. Whether it's counting our blessings and giving God thanks despite our afflictions and suffering, we're able to endure anything through the hope and support of loved ones. Regardless of the situation, the story does indeed live on forever until that one day when we ourselves will do the same.
You're probably asking yourself if you missed something the last time you watched "Stranger Than Fiction" huh? Well, I apologize for the tangent, but like I said, writing it down is step three in my therapeutic formula. Step two isn't much of anything except for the fact that it was unfinished business that I saw to taking care of immediately. Our apartment needed a little sprucing up and it made me feel good. Usually I like to re-arrange furniture but being that there isn't a whole lot to rearrange in our small living space, I decided to organize instead. You see, I've come to learn that sometimes all we need is a little "me" time - setting aside our lists and agendas (and homework) and just wasting some time to give our hearts a break in order to endure life's heartbreaks. I think step four is going to have to be getting outside to breathe in the crisp autumn air - to appreciate the life still left in these lungs o' mine. The homework and studying will just have to wait. May the peace of Christ be with you all.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Heavy Walkers etc.
The new adventure here at Luther Seminary has been underway for a month - which is precisely the amount of time it takes for a person like me to recognize and share a few particular pet peeves that have reared their ugly heads. So, here is a list of those things - which I hope will not be seen as pity-collecting, but more so as a therapeutic release for my soul. I will also accept your pity. It is after all, our human nature to complain. Not only is it human nature, but it's Biblical nature, remember those Israelites?? Well, enough of my justifying - on with the list!
1. The Heavy Walkers in apartment 310.
Rebecca and I live in apartment 210 and have been so cursed with neighbors above who like to make their presence extremely known whenever they are in their apartment, sharing the floor (our ceiling) with us. Ah, apartment living. I often wonder to myself and aloud just what it is that the heavy walkers are doing up there. I feel like they are pounding each step - huffing around up there for all to hear. It makes me very aware and cautious of my own walking around our apartment - and I am convinced that they are simply acting disrespectful and rude with all that noise. Why do they need to walk so much anyway? Come in, sit down, maybe move to the kitchen, sit again - what on earth warrants so much movement?! Instead of love for my neighbor, it has caused nothing but bitter disdain. We've never met each other, which might be part of the problem, but I don't think I can be friends if I met them now. I will never forget the first time we made eye contact in the stairwell one day. They were up in their place making all sorts of heavy steps and thunderous movements and then it stopped just as Rebecca and I were leaving. Then, here they come down the stairs and there was a moment of split silence as he and I exchanged looks - I knew it was him and he knew that I knew - and then it was over. But every time I see him on campus, my lips curl and I feel the bitter boiling inside. Terrible I know - but c'mon - softer steps people!
2. Everybody knows nobody.
The community building here isn't exactly what I dreamed of when I wanted to be a residential full time student. I've met a handful of classmates that are cool and would consider them to be friends. Everybody else just sticks to themselves - eliciting in me nothing but a longing for those chatty, pleasant folks in the Old Dominion who can't stop asking you how you're doing, who you are and what you do for a living. "Minnesota Nice" is a myth as far as I'm concerned at the present moment. I have no problem introducing myself and breaking the ice with people, but it's tough when it feels like you're the only one willing to stick your neck out socially. A new friend and I were discussing this campus climate crisis and she pinpointed it: everybody assumes that everyone knows one another. When in fact the opposite is true - everybody knows nobody and the only ones who know each other don't seem too interested in knowing more people. I am determined to building community here, but so far I'm not impressed.
3. The Vikings.
Put it together Vikes - it's embarrassing. What's worse is that at least in Virginia I could join in misery with Redskins fans. Now they're doing awesome and I can't even be there to share their happiness. I will still don my Adrian Peterson jersey with purple pride every Sunday - victory or no - there will be no jumping ship now that I'm here to see them play.
4. I'd probably complain about the weather here, but it's not quite time.
Chilly? Yes. But it's still a joy to be outside for the time being. This will change. I know. But let's just forget about it for now.
That is about it - which is a good thing. I enjoy my classes and the work that goes with them (insert collective gasp here.) My call to ministry is reaffirmed just about every day that I sit in class and soak up all the knowledge that I previously wasn't privy to. I'm becoming a more balanced student by the week and am handling the transition into student life just fine. There are other things I'm not used to yet, but those will come with time. I'm already looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas break - you know, those student perks won't be around forever. As for the pet peeves - let's all hope those won't be around forever either.
1. The Heavy Walkers in apartment 310.
Rebecca and I live in apartment 210 and have been so cursed with neighbors above who like to make their presence extremely known whenever they are in their apartment, sharing the floor (our ceiling) with us. Ah, apartment living. I often wonder to myself and aloud just what it is that the heavy walkers are doing up there. I feel like they are pounding each step - huffing around up there for all to hear. It makes me very aware and cautious of my own walking around our apartment - and I am convinced that they are simply acting disrespectful and rude with all that noise. Why do they need to walk so much anyway? Come in, sit down, maybe move to the kitchen, sit again - what on earth warrants so much movement?! Instead of love for my neighbor, it has caused nothing but bitter disdain. We've never met each other, which might be part of the problem, but I don't think I can be friends if I met them now. I will never forget the first time we made eye contact in the stairwell one day. They were up in their place making all sorts of heavy steps and thunderous movements and then it stopped just as Rebecca and I were leaving. Then, here they come down the stairs and there was a moment of split silence as he and I exchanged looks - I knew it was him and he knew that I knew - and then it was over. But every time I see him on campus, my lips curl and I feel the bitter boiling inside. Terrible I know - but c'mon - softer steps people!
2. Everybody knows nobody.
The community building here isn't exactly what I dreamed of when I wanted to be a residential full time student. I've met a handful of classmates that are cool and would consider them to be friends. Everybody else just sticks to themselves - eliciting in me nothing but a longing for those chatty, pleasant folks in the Old Dominion who can't stop asking you how you're doing, who you are and what you do for a living. "Minnesota Nice" is a myth as far as I'm concerned at the present moment. I have no problem introducing myself and breaking the ice with people, but it's tough when it feels like you're the only one willing to stick your neck out socially. A new friend and I were discussing this campus climate crisis and she pinpointed it: everybody assumes that everyone knows one another. When in fact the opposite is true - everybody knows nobody and the only ones who know each other don't seem too interested in knowing more people. I am determined to building community here, but so far I'm not impressed.
3. The Vikings.
Put it together Vikes - it's embarrassing. What's worse is that at least in Virginia I could join in misery with Redskins fans. Now they're doing awesome and I can't even be there to share their happiness. I will still don my Adrian Peterson jersey with purple pride every Sunday - victory or no - there will be no jumping ship now that I'm here to see them play.
4. I'd probably complain about the weather here, but it's not quite time.
Chilly? Yes. But it's still a joy to be outside for the time being. This will change. I know. But let's just forget about it for now.
That is about it - which is a good thing. I enjoy my classes and the work that goes with them (insert collective gasp here.) My call to ministry is reaffirmed just about every day that I sit in class and soak up all the knowledge that I previously wasn't privy to. I'm becoming a more balanced student by the week and am handling the transition into student life just fine. There are other things I'm not used to yet, but those will come with time. I'm already looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas break - you know, those student perks won't be around forever. As for the pet peeves - let's all hope those won't be around forever either.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Unlock the Rock
There is no such thing as useless knowledge. I sometimes get grief from my wife regarding all the trivia I've ingrained in my memory over the years - the 1987 & 1991 Twins roster, the endless movie quotes and what day and time The Simpson's were on in high school (Sundays, 7 pm.) But perhaps the most under-appreciated is my extensive collection and knowledge of classic and 80's rock. Sure I receive a compliment here and there for actually knowing a song before the chorus starts, but I don't think she was truly wowed until just recently. Let me explain.
I think one of the first cassette tapes I ever listened to growing up was Michael Jackson, "Thriller." My parents can attest to this as we literally wore the tape out on our trip out west so many years ago. It is also worth mentioning (before someone else does) the incident involving the first tape I purchased for myself - we'll call it the "Paula Experiment." This brief debacle of a decision occurred in the fifth grade when my loins got the best of my ears and I turned to Paula Abdul's "Forever your Girl" - a choice that complemented my best friend's (who shall remain nameless) decision to purchase Janet Jackson's "Rhythm Nation." Once I was past this mistake, it was all 80's hair bands rock - every single cassette I owned, or rather borrowed, was that of the likes of Poison, Warrant, AC/DC, Motley Crue, Aerosmith, Whitesnake, Cinderella, Tesla, Guns N' Roses etc. The sound of electric guitar, drums and high pitch vocals was one amazing blend of power and finesse - sure, I would've listened to Country or Rap if my idol and older brother Kevin thought it was cool (but he didn't), and nevertheless, Rock got its birth in my blood. The older I got, the more I ventured into the vault of heavy hitters - snatching up Metallica, Nirvana and Van Halen - to which I am still a fan. I was constantly turning it up and rockin' out - my walkman went with me while I mowed lawns and the stereo blasted in the car - it didn't matter, I loved my rock and roll.
I memorized lyrics so I could sing along - I attribute my tenor musical pitch in choir to the likes of these bands...I also learned every guitar and drum solo so I could strum and drum along. Eventually this love of rock would lead to some youthful prestige, as I helped bring home first place in the end of the year Middle School lip-sync competition. "Enter Sandman" by Metallica - I remember the performance like yesterday. The drums building up in the beginning until it culminated as I burst through a paper banner, head banging with a long haired wig - ohh, the memories are sweet. I was given the reigns as the lead singer - James Hetfield - and lip-sing I did. I knew (and still know) that song backwards and forwards - not many tunes still get me as fired up as that one does. It was a fantastic day in my 8th grade life. Heck, it is STILL a great day in my 29 year old life. I'd give anything to go back to those lip-sync and air guitar days of yesteryear...
Why this recollection all of a sudden you ask? Well, it has recently been brought to my attention that I am still a rock star - out on the wedding dance floor(s). Now, it's not that I didn't know I was a rock star - it's just that others have now recognized me, nay - elevated me as such. Attending two weddings in two weeks, I have had the pleasure and honor of bringing the house down with my mad air guitar skillz. Here's what they're saying: "He knows like, every song!" "How does he do that?!" "You're the man!" "You are the best at air guitar that I've ever seen." So how do I do what I do? It all goes back to my youth of course - all those lyrics and guitar solos memorized with no where to exercise the knowledge - it's all just waiting around, jamming out in the depths of my long term memory until the DJ hits play and out comes MJ's "Beat It" with a sick guitar solo from guest Eddie Van Halen and I unleash the rock that has been locked away for far too long. Combine this knowledge with facial expressions, guitar tricks and an energetic stage presence - yeah, some might call that the Perfect Storm of Rock. It doesn't matter what he or she throws my way - I have it somewhere inside - AC/DC's "Shook me all night long" - got it, Poison's "Ain't nothin' but a good time" - got it, "Rock and Roll all night" by Kiss - check, "Dude looks like a lady" Aerosmith - got that too. I like to keep you guessing - I may toss aside the guitar and pick up some sticks and slam down a wicked drum solo - just for kicks. It's all part of the show people - all you need to do is supply the venue and I am all over it - for free - I just love to rock, it's that simple.
There are far too many favorites to list here, but as long as the DJ has 80's rock, we're golden. Mix in some 90's while you're at it - I know lots of that too. I've heard there are actual Air Guitar contests out there - and I am intrigued. Although, I think I'll just stick to the smaller venues for now - I've got to stay true to my roots y'know - my family and friends are who make it all possible. Just keep gettin' married and having dances and I'll do the rest.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Full Speed Ahead!
I have been a full-time student for 3 days going on 4. So far, I am surviving - not only that, but I am truly enjoying myself in this place. Sure, it feels overwhelming from time to time when I put all of my class syllabus' together and see just how much work is expected of me over the next 3 months - but, if there is one lesson that I learned the most from this summer, it is to just relax and take one day at a time. For the most part I am staying organized and on top of my studies - I have many, many pages to read in a short amount of time, but I know that it's doable. I also enjoy the challenge of hitting the keyboard for a paper of some kind - and I am anxious to see how I will adapt to the constant pulling and switching of different gears and mindsets. For instance, one minute I am reading the Catholic Catechism and the next I am in front of a group of 7-9th graders introducing myself and getting everyone jacked up for a year of confirmation - which was the case last night at my new church, Westwood Lutheran.
I have also gotten lots of practice saying my story schpeel. In the last two weeks - here's what I've heard several dozen times: "Where are you from? What program are you in? Tell us about yourself." This gives me a chance to A) Decide how much I am going to disclose B) Give some shout outs to my hometown(s) and college and C) Remind myself of God's great calling in my life. So, here is what I have typically said: "My name is Keith Long. I am a first year M-Div with a Concentration in Children, Youth and Family (CYF) Ministries. I am from Richmond, Virginia, where I've been living for the last 5 years. I am originally from the Twin Cities area and graduated from Moorhead State in 2001. I've been married for 6 years and my wife is a social worker - and we're living on campus in Burntvedt (apartments)." If they probe further, I will talk about what I've been doing in Richmond, what my degree from Moorhead was in, what Rebecca does, and that I like camping, the outdoors and that I worked at camp this past summer. It is amazing to me how many similarities and shared connections there are amidst this community. I have made new friends that I very well could have encountered in another place and time - it's kind of weird.
As for my classes and professors... I like them all in all their different and unique ways. My first class on Monday, the professor asked us all to introduce ourselves and tell a little about ourselves (see above). He proceeded to talk a little about his background, and mentioned that he got his Ph.D from Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. My immediate thought was, "Sweet, this guy is going to love me..." Sure enough, once it was my turn, he lit up upon hearing my story. Now, I don't want you to think that I will use this to take advantage of him or anything, but its just cool to have a connection like that with your professor. My second class is with a professor named Andrew Root - who is only a few years older than me. Cool guy - I read his book over the summer called "Revisiting Relational Youth Ministry." I already had much respect for him based on the greatness of his book - so I kind of felt like I was in the midst of a hero or celebrity. My only thought was to not make a dork of myself. During a break I had a chance to chat a little with him, and I shared a little more of my background in film, church work etc. I think I made a good impression - afterall, my opening line was, "Would it be considered too ballsy (yes I used that word) to do my book review assignment on your book?" He laughed. I immediatedly regretted my decision to open with "ballsy." But, on the other hand, it was kind of like old friends chatting - anyways, I got a chance to thank him for his book and the encouragement it gave me. It's not everyday you get to thank the author of a great book you've read. He was actually open to the idea of my doing the review of his book. My first thought was "SWEET, one less book to read!" But then I told him I was just kidding and that I was looking forward to checking out the options offered...I know, I am a brown-noser... Anywho, I think I will really enjoy his method of using film to teach, and my hunch is that it'll probably be movies I haven't seen - he mentioned he likes to use Independent films mostly - which I like, but never get to see due to the limited choices offered at the public library. Ok, enough about this class.
My Tuesday-Thursday classes are completely different. I got to Pentateuch when the professor was calling out attendance - he was on the letter D of people's last names. I was thankful for being an L. No intro's - just jumped right in to the lecture. Good lecture for a first day, and I got some good notes. This class will be much more individual based - lots of reading and papers due on a weekly basis. I will be challenged in this course - and I am excited to see what I've got. The second class on Tuesday is a doozy. My professor is intense in every sense of the word. I got myself a front row seat next to a friend I just met last week. I feared I would be spat upon - he got started and just kept going, and spittle would build and build. I know he'll be a challenging and inspiring teacher - and that he is definitely a "my way or the highway" kind of guy. I questioned whether or not I will thrive in the class or just hang on for dear life. We shall see. Welp, it is time for class - I am hoping to get there before roll call this time. See ya!
I have also gotten lots of practice saying my story schpeel. In the last two weeks - here's what I've heard several dozen times: "Where are you from? What program are you in? Tell us about yourself." This gives me a chance to A) Decide how much I am going to disclose B) Give some shout outs to my hometown(s) and college and C) Remind myself of God's great calling in my life. So, here is what I have typically said: "My name is Keith Long. I am a first year M-Div with a Concentration in Children, Youth and Family (CYF) Ministries. I am from Richmond, Virginia, where I've been living for the last 5 years. I am originally from the Twin Cities area and graduated from Moorhead State in 2001. I've been married for 6 years and my wife is a social worker - and we're living on campus in Burntvedt (apartments)." If they probe further, I will talk about what I've been doing in Richmond, what my degree from Moorhead was in, what Rebecca does, and that I like camping, the outdoors and that I worked at camp this past summer. It is amazing to me how many similarities and shared connections there are amidst this community. I have made new friends that I very well could have encountered in another place and time - it's kind of weird.
As for my classes and professors... I like them all in all their different and unique ways. My first class on Monday, the professor asked us all to introduce ourselves and tell a little about ourselves (see above). He proceeded to talk a little about his background, and mentioned that he got his Ph.D from Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. My immediate thought was, "Sweet, this guy is going to love me..." Sure enough, once it was my turn, he lit up upon hearing my story. Now, I don't want you to think that I will use this to take advantage of him or anything, but its just cool to have a connection like that with your professor. My second class is with a professor named Andrew Root - who is only a few years older than me. Cool guy - I read his book over the summer called "Revisiting Relational Youth Ministry." I already had much respect for him based on the greatness of his book - so I kind of felt like I was in the midst of a hero or celebrity. My only thought was to not make a dork of myself. During a break I had a chance to chat a little with him, and I shared a little more of my background in film, church work etc. I think I made a good impression - afterall, my opening line was, "Would it be considered too ballsy (yes I used that word) to do my book review assignment on your book?" He laughed. I immediatedly regretted my decision to open with "ballsy." But, on the other hand, it was kind of like old friends chatting - anyways, I got a chance to thank him for his book and the encouragement it gave me. It's not everyday you get to thank the author of a great book you've read. He was actually open to the idea of my doing the review of his book. My first thought was "SWEET, one less book to read!" But then I told him I was just kidding and that I was looking forward to checking out the options offered...I know, I am a brown-noser... Anywho, I think I will really enjoy his method of using film to teach, and my hunch is that it'll probably be movies I haven't seen - he mentioned he likes to use Independent films mostly - which I like, but never get to see due to the limited choices offered at the public library. Ok, enough about this class.
My Tuesday-Thursday classes are completely different. I got to Pentateuch when the professor was calling out attendance - he was on the letter D of people's last names. I was thankful for being an L. No intro's - just jumped right in to the lecture. Good lecture for a first day, and I got some good notes. This class will be much more individual based - lots of reading and papers due on a weekly basis. I will be challenged in this course - and I am excited to see what I've got. The second class on Tuesday is a doozy. My professor is intense in every sense of the word. I got myself a front row seat next to a friend I just met last week. I feared I would be spat upon - he got started and just kept going, and spittle would build and build. I know he'll be a challenging and inspiring teacher - and that he is definitely a "my way or the highway" kind of guy. I questioned whether or not I will thrive in the class or just hang on for dear life. We shall see. Welp, it is time for class - I am hoping to get there before roll call this time. See ya!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
6 Days and counting...
This will more than likely be my last post before I begin (gulp) seminary. Yes, the final countdown has begun, and soon I will be considered a full time student. I have gone through a wide range of emotions in the last few days and I am sure that the roller coaster will continue all the way until I set foot on campus Tuesday, September 2nd at 8:00 am.
Yesterday was definitely "Freak Out" day. I researched several topics online regarding classes, upcoming plans, courses and requirements - and in the end of it all I just really started to wig out. Am I really doing this? All of this discernment and now here I am about to actually start? Will I be able to make the cut? Will I meet cool people or will all of my classmates be dilweeds? I also came to the realization that I can kiss my lazy fun time goodbye - no more couch potato afternoons/evenings of back to back to back Arrested Development, The Office or Scrubs episodes - nope, most of my time will be spent reading, studying and doing group projects. But, in the end of the wigging out I received a much needed pep talk from my number one supporter (Rebecca) and I realized that I was going to be okay - I would survive, if not conquer the challenges ahead.
Other than Freak Out day, I have been gearing up and getting super excited for seminary. This is what I've been called to do and what I want to do - 2 things I've longed to be in harmony for as long as I can remember. The nervousness is still there and I know there are extremely difficult days ahead, but I also know that God will be with me throughout it all, and this is going to be one incredible journey that will change my life in amazing ways.
Before the seminary journey begins at orientation on Tuesday, I must ring in the new year with pazazz. That's right - I owe it to myself to rock out a little - to let the hair down and party like there's no tomorrow. And what better way to do so than to crash a wedding? Well, it's not exactly crashing per se, but I will be going to a wedding (of my sister in law) and I will be having the time of my life. And after that - the great Minnesota get-together, aka, The State Fair. I can't possibly start a new adventure on an empty stomach - no, I will have a full belly of mini-donuts, corndogs, cheese curds, a chocolate malt, bottomless milk and something on a stick rolling around in there to take me through.
May all of your summers end well. Bring on September!
Yesterday was definitely "Freak Out" day. I researched several topics online regarding classes, upcoming plans, courses and requirements - and in the end of it all I just really started to wig out. Am I really doing this? All of this discernment and now here I am about to actually start? Will I be able to make the cut? Will I meet cool people or will all of my classmates be dilweeds? I also came to the realization that I can kiss my lazy fun time goodbye - no more couch potato afternoons/evenings of back to back to back Arrested Development, The Office or Scrubs episodes - nope, most of my time will be spent reading, studying and doing group projects. But, in the end of the wigging out I received a much needed pep talk from my number one supporter (Rebecca) and I realized that I was going to be okay - I would survive, if not conquer the challenges ahead.
Other than Freak Out day, I have been gearing up and getting super excited for seminary. This is what I've been called to do and what I want to do - 2 things I've longed to be in harmony for as long as I can remember. The nervousness is still there and I know there are extremely difficult days ahead, but I also know that God will be with me throughout it all, and this is going to be one incredible journey that will change my life in amazing ways.
Before the seminary journey begins at orientation on Tuesday, I must ring in the new year with pazazz. That's right - I owe it to myself to rock out a little - to let the hair down and party like there's no tomorrow. And what better way to do so than to crash a wedding? Well, it's not exactly crashing per se, but I will be going to a wedding (of my sister in law) and I will be having the time of my life. And after that - the great Minnesota get-together, aka, The State Fair. I can't possibly start a new adventure on an empty stomach - no, I will have a full belly of mini-donuts, corndogs, cheese curds, a chocolate malt, bottomless milk and something on a stick rolling around in there to take me through.
May all of your summers end well. Bring on September!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The Sting Heard 'Round the Camp
It was a day just like any other day - the sun was shining, a slight breeze was in the air, and the camp was minutes away from welcoming new guests for a week's worth of ministry. I entered the office as I had done so many times throughout the summer, to check in and get things prepared. Little did I know that a mass grave of death would greet me on the other side...
I opened the door to see hundreds of dead bee bodies scattered across my desk and floor. My first thought was: "What the heck happened in here? Did our maintenance manager, we'll call him "Big John," fumigate the office while I was away for the week?" It didn't take long to figure it out, for upon entering the second door of the office, the answer was right in front of me. Bees! Lots and lots of yellow jacket menaces were flying around the office as if our base camp was their private air field and not a place where humans had worked during the previous 9 weeks of the summer. Where did they come from? How long have they been in here? Why had so many died? I didn't really care after about 20 seconds of being surrounded by the alive ones. I located their entrance point and bolted.
About 5 years ago I was stung by a yellow jacket and had to visit the Emergency Room. My face swelled up and red blotches covered my body. It was a nasty allergic reaction that was not very fun. I remember lying down as a cortisone shot was administered to me at the same time as I took some benadryl. My heart raced and then I think I passed out for awhile. Then, I had to take benadryl everyday for the next week - while I tried to work. I can't tell you how many times I almost smacked my face on my desk from all the drug taking. So, as you can imagine, I was not fond of the little sting happy pests. The only thought I had was to avoid getting stung at all costs.
I raced around the camp, alerting others to the dangerous office situation and looking for some canisters of Bee Killer. I could not find any - and time was ticking away until our guests would be arriving, expecting everything to be in perfect working order. Finally, I found a box full of killer spray - jackpot. With my brother as my wing man, we popped off the caps and went in, guns blazing. I entered the inner office and he took to the exterior. We were determined to take back our home base - to rid it of yellow and black evil on wings. The white foam plugged their point of entry and killed any who dared enter. I'm not gonna lie, it felt good to kill those things. I was a full fledged Bee Killer and I was proud of it.
We heard through a friend and co-worker that when bees die they release a pheromone that alerts other bees - which then attracts them to check things out. Translation - their dying only brought more to the scene. This made us a tad more trigger happy, trying to take bees out of the air with the white foamy spray - with little success. In the end, the bees were silenced for the day. The next hour was spent sucking up bees into the vacuum and trying to erase all signs to their infestation.
The next day only brought more discoveries of yellow jacket hide-outs. When the kids arrived, one such hide-out was uncovered, unleashing more of them onto human flesh. I eliminated the underground lair as quickly as possible. The following day another spot was detected and again the spray was uncorked and bees were killed. It seemed that in the span of just seven days off, bees had taken over the camp. This made us perturbed and angry. We remained on high alert.
As I worked in the office yesterday, I kept hearing them. They were/are in the walls of the office, still working. The hole has been cut off, but they continue to creep around inside the walls. I went out for another round of spraying, just to make sure I was safe. But to our astonishment, we kept seeing and finding bees in and around the office. They were just as determined to avoid their elimination as we were determined to eliminate. I respected them, but only grew more fierce and motivated. I typed but kept my ears and eyes on anything suspicious in the office. Then, to my utter disbelief, a fly-by. I was buzzed by one as I kept to myself on the couch, working on the lap top. I felt something land on me and I swiped it away. Fifteen minutes went by and just as I was about to click "Send" and shooting pain swept over me - I was stung. A lone bee had just accomplished the single greatest act of revenge for the entire Shores of St. Andrew Yellow Jacket colony of 2008. Scared, infuriated and shocked, I stood quickly without tossing the laptop to its destruction and tore off my shirt to get him off. I may have uttered a few words that are not camp appropriate. UnBEElievable - I had been stung.
Before I could freak out too much, my brother entered the office and saw what was going on. He helped me to remain calm and inspected the wound on my left shoulder blade. We waited and watched for another breakout...but none came. Frazzled, I retreated to my cabin and calmed the nerves. An hour after the sneak attack, I was still okay. No reaction this time other than the standard bulls-eye redness and painful-I-want-to-scratch-it-so-badly itch. I was beside myself with anger and admiration for that little yellow devil. I killed a countless number of his pals and he made sure I tasted his sweet revenge - in a summer about God's Justice not being about getting even. So that's how it's gonna bee...
I opened the door to see hundreds of dead bee bodies scattered across my desk and floor. My first thought was: "What the heck happened in here? Did our maintenance manager, we'll call him "Big John," fumigate the office while I was away for the week?" It didn't take long to figure it out, for upon entering the second door of the office, the answer was right in front of me. Bees! Lots and lots of yellow jacket menaces were flying around the office as if our base camp was their private air field and not a place where humans had worked during the previous 9 weeks of the summer. Where did they come from? How long have they been in here? Why had so many died? I didn't really care after about 20 seconds of being surrounded by the alive ones. I located their entrance point and bolted.
About 5 years ago I was stung by a yellow jacket and had to visit the Emergency Room. My face swelled up and red blotches covered my body. It was a nasty allergic reaction that was not very fun. I remember lying down as a cortisone shot was administered to me at the same time as I took some benadryl. My heart raced and then I think I passed out for awhile. Then, I had to take benadryl everyday for the next week - while I tried to work. I can't tell you how many times I almost smacked my face on my desk from all the drug taking. So, as you can imagine, I was not fond of the little sting happy pests. The only thought I had was to avoid getting stung at all costs.
I raced around the camp, alerting others to the dangerous office situation and looking for some canisters of Bee Killer. I could not find any - and time was ticking away until our guests would be arriving, expecting everything to be in perfect working order. Finally, I found a box full of killer spray - jackpot. With my brother as my wing man, we popped off the caps and went in, guns blazing. I entered the inner office and he took to the exterior. We were determined to take back our home base - to rid it of yellow and black evil on wings. The white foam plugged their point of entry and killed any who dared enter. I'm not gonna lie, it felt good to kill those things. I was a full fledged Bee Killer and I was proud of it.
We heard through a friend and co-worker that when bees die they release a pheromone that alerts other bees - which then attracts them to check things out. Translation - their dying only brought more to the scene. This made us a tad more trigger happy, trying to take bees out of the air with the white foamy spray - with little success. In the end, the bees were silenced for the day. The next hour was spent sucking up bees into the vacuum and trying to erase all signs to their infestation.
The next day only brought more discoveries of yellow jacket hide-outs. When the kids arrived, one such hide-out was uncovered, unleashing more of them onto human flesh. I eliminated the underground lair as quickly as possible. The following day another spot was detected and again the spray was uncorked and bees were killed. It seemed that in the span of just seven days off, bees had taken over the camp. This made us perturbed and angry. We remained on high alert.
As I worked in the office yesterday, I kept hearing them. They were/are in the walls of the office, still working. The hole has been cut off, but they continue to creep around inside the walls. I went out for another round of spraying, just to make sure I was safe. But to our astonishment, we kept seeing and finding bees in and around the office. They were just as determined to avoid their elimination as we were determined to eliminate. I respected them, but only grew more fierce and motivated. I typed but kept my ears and eyes on anything suspicious in the office. Then, to my utter disbelief, a fly-by. I was buzzed by one as I kept to myself on the couch, working on the lap top. I felt something land on me and I swiped it away. Fifteen minutes went by and just as I was about to click "Send" and shooting pain swept over me - I was stung. A lone bee had just accomplished the single greatest act of revenge for the entire Shores of St. Andrew Yellow Jacket colony of 2008. Scared, infuriated and shocked, I stood quickly without tossing the laptop to its destruction and tore off my shirt to get him off. I may have uttered a few words that are not camp appropriate. UnBEElievable - I had been stung.
Before I could freak out too much, my brother entered the office and saw what was going on. He helped me to remain calm and inspected the wound on my left shoulder blade. We waited and watched for another breakout...but none came. Frazzled, I retreated to my cabin and calmed the nerves. An hour after the sneak attack, I was still okay. No reaction this time other than the standard bulls-eye redness and painful-I-want-to-scratch-it-so-badly itch. I was beside myself with anger and admiration for that little yellow devil. I killed a countless number of his pals and he made sure I tasted his sweet revenge - in a summer about God's Justice not being about getting even. So that's how it's gonna bee...
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Look
You know the one - the look from your significant other that says, "What is wrong with you?" The look that cuts into you and states emphatically, "Shape up." Yes, I'm positive that most of my male readers here are nodding that yes, they know exactly what I'm referring to. I had managed to endure one of my tougher summer's to date - Greek, Site Directing at Camp, living apart from my wife - and, unfortunately, the busy times called for something to give - and you guessed it, Life-in-Tents was given the boot.
With camp over as of last Saturday, I am home in St. Anthony, chilling with the wife and the fam again, doing nothing. Rebecca gets up for work and I get to roll over and go back to sleep. When I do get up, I usually eat some breakfast, check up on the baseball scores on my Fantasy team and lounge around, restlessly lazy the remainder of the day. I'll get a little exercise in, but mostly I do nothing. That is until I am on the end of "the look." Suddenly I realize just how pathetic my existence has been since finishing the summer at camp and crashing at home. It dawns on me that camp ended five days ago and here I am, still recovering. She need not say anything really - that one look pretty much addresses all the questions I need to be asked: "When are you going to start running again? When is the last time you wrote in your blog? Do you have things to do while you're here?" Ahh, yes - yes, I do need to step up to the plate once again and get back in the game. Break time is over.
Thank goodness for the look. I think we all need it more than we think we do. Camp helped me to realize how much I missed my wife while living apart over the summer. Being a bachelor again definitely had its perks, don't get me wrong. Allowing my clothes to clutter my room throughout the week, going on self-grooming autopilot and staying up later than I should have were fun to indulge in again - but letting myself go like that also had its many pitfalls. Sure, I never really enjoyed the look that said, "Stop eating" or "slow down" - but, God Bless her - she was right. I ate too much and too fast all summer long. Now my waistline is slowing me down when I exercise and I don't feel quite as buff as I once did.
Next I found myself looking for ways out when it came to dessert and eating ice cream - I haven't eaten this much ice cream over the last 6 years than I did this summer at camp. For a kid who loves ice cream, I can't tell you how painful it was to find myself trying to cut back on its frozen delicious intake. The look may not have been directly in my face, but I could feel it everytime someone said the words Dairy Queen to me. As much as I told myself I wouldn't, I always caved to my bachelor alter-ego and said, "sure, why not?" The only positive thing to come of this has been that my cool treats consumption forced me to experiment more with the menu. Which means that I now have several options other than the standard Reeses Peanut Buttercup Blizzard - please, save your applause.
Yes, discipline was a tad lacking this summer in absence of the look. Receiving it last night was long overdue. I must say that creating a to-do list is needed for me - and I went much too long without one. "Yeah, I know honey - I've been meaning to write in my blog again soon, really..." That just doesn't cut it. I am proud to say that I am making my way back. The look has reignited my self-discipline and a comeback is imminent. So long bachelor Keith, it was fun while it lasted, but I like Married Keith much better.
With camp over as of last Saturday, I am home in St. Anthony, chilling with the wife and the fam again, doing nothing. Rebecca gets up for work and I get to roll over and go back to sleep. When I do get up, I usually eat some breakfast, check up on the baseball scores on my Fantasy team and lounge around, restlessly lazy the remainder of the day. I'll get a little exercise in, but mostly I do nothing. That is until I am on the end of "the look." Suddenly I realize just how pathetic my existence has been since finishing the summer at camp and crashing at home. It dawns on me that camp ended five days ago and here I am, still recovering. She need not say anything really - that one look pretty much addresses all the questions I need to be asked: "When are you going to start running again? When is the last time you wrote in your blog? Do you have things to do while you're here?" Ahh, yes - yes, I do need to step up to the plate once again and get back in the game. Break time is over.
Thank goodness for the look. I think we all need it more than we think we do. Camp helped me to realize how much I missed my wife while living apart over the summer. Being a bachelor again definitely had its perks, don't get me wrong. Allowing my clothes to clutter my room throughout the week, going on self-grooming autopilot and staying up later than I should have were fun to indulge in again - but letting myself go like that also had its many pitfalls. Sure, I never really enjoyed the look that said, "Stop eating" or "slow down" - but, God Bless her - she was right. I ate too much and too fast all summer long. Now my waistline is slowing me down when I exercise and I don't feel quite as buff as I once did.
Next I found myself looking for ways out when it came to dessert and eating ice cream - I haven't eaten this much ice cream over the last 6 years than I did this summer at camp. For a kid who loves ice cream, I can't tell you how painful it was to find myself trying to cut back on its frozen delicious intake. The look may not have been directly in my face, but I could feel it everytime someone said the words Dairy Queen to me. As much as I told myself I wouldn't, I always caved to my bachelor alter-ego and said, "sure, why not?" The only positive thing to come of this has been that my cool treats consumption forced me to experiment more with the menu. Which means that I now have several options other than the standard Reeses Peanut Buttercup Blizzard - please, save your applause.
Yes, discipline was a tad lacking this summer in absence of the look. Receiving it last night was long overdue. I must say that creating a to-do list is needed for me - and I went much too long without one. "Yeah, I know honey - I've been meaning to write in my blog again soon, really..." That just doesn't cut it. I am proud to say that I am making my way back. The look has reignited my self-discipline and a comeback is imminent. So long bachelor Keith, it was fun while it lasted, but I like Married Keith much better.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The prank that got away
With so much going on these last few weeks, something had to give - so, I offer my apologies for my Life-in-Tents disappearance. Life has been good - camp is going very well, and so is Greek - and the end of both is in sight, which brings me much joy and sadness...I'll let you guess which emotion goes with what. About the only thing missing from this amazing summer has been Rebecca at my side - it has been weird not sharing the awesomeness of camp with her on a daily basis. I miss seeing and hearing from those I've shared my life with up until this summer as well - it's still hard to believe that I've been here for 2 months already. We have much to catch up on...
It seems every time I sit down to post an entry something comes up - the life of a program director is a busy one. I truly love my job, but there have been some long days that have consumed me. I am pleased to see the pieces fitting together and things going more smoothly now. I also have to "check in" with the happenings every so often - like right now. We're playing Bonkers tonight - so I better go catch some of the action. I'll be right back. You won't even know I'm gone.
Enough catching up - I have a funny story to tell. I have been waiting to tell this one for awhile. Here at camp, some of the staff like to pull pranks on one another. Being an old prankster myself, I knew it was a good place to get some of the cobwebs shaken off and get back into the game myself. My brother and another staff member have been busy doing most of the pranking - and have been quite successful. I'm very proud of some of those pranks - and others, I can only shake my head in wonder... For instance, one prank involved revving up a chain less chainsaw in the middle of a campfire near an open field of tall grass - and another involved creeping through a cabin (full of counselors, not campers) dressed as an old woman and mumbling to "herself" at 3 in the morning. They once placed a giant scarecrow in another female staff members' bedroom and so on. So, I decided to get in on the action too. Here's what transpired:
My brother and I had this mask growing up - the old man mask. It's creepy. We both at one time wore it for Halloween. While talking about scary stories one night at camp, we wondered aloud whatever happened to the mask. I told him I'd look for it that weekend while home. We both wanted it for the same reason - and I just happened to be able to look for it before him. I found it alright - but I told him that I hadn't when I returned. So, here I am with the old man mask, trying to pick the most opportune time to unleash it's creepiness upon him and his prankster partner Jacob. I decided that the best time to strike would be early in the morning when they least expected it. I snuck over to Dave's room one morning and crept into his cabin. He was in the shower and his roommate was up - so I aborted my attempt. The next time I tried, the first door to his cabin squeaked loudly - I wondered whether I had already been compromised. When I reached his bedroom door and began to open it slowly, it creaked and squeaked so loudly that it woke him up. I had to dodge out of the way and rip off the mask without him seeing me. I popped back into his room and told him I was looking for something and was sorry to wake him. I departed the cabin - attempt number two was therefore aborted as well.
I waited a few days before trying a third time. When I couldn't get into the cabin without making a lot of noise, I decided that I could not get him the way I wanted to. The original idea was to creep undetected into his bedroom and sit on the edge of his bed, and then sit there silently while wearing the mask and watching him sleep. I would wait for him to awake and see me sitting there. Oh, the fright I would cause. Alas, it was not meant to be. Instead, I decided to try and get his buddy, Jacob, who lived next door and has been the mastermind behind most of the pranks.
Upon entering his cabin, the first variable was Eric, the sleeping counselor on his couch. I tried Jacob's door but it seemed to be locked or jammed somehow. I wasn't going to get in there unheard either. Drat. So, I thought of a plan B quickly. I decided I'd wait in his bathroom - when he got up and inevitably came into the bathroom to go pee (it's a common practice that all men do upon waking up in the morning, right?) he'd receive his surprise from me. Sitting on his toilet would be a creepy old man...ah, the waiting would be so worth it I thought.
As you can probably imagine, things did not go exactly to plan. I started waiting at 8 am. I knew that he needed to be up by 9 am because campers would be visiting him to retrieve their medications then. I assumed he'd probably get up around 8:30 and get ready. I'd only need to wait around 30 minutes. A long time, but worth the pay off for sure. Around 8:20 am, I heard a door open - and it was not Jacob's. I realized that Andrew, his cabin mate, had woken up before him and was about to probably stumble upon me. This was not good - I needed as few people to know of my intentions as possible. Plus, I didn't want to scare an innocent person. I hid behind the door and held my breath. Andrew entered. I stood silently, wearing the mask. He walked slowly in and did not make a sound. He was looking down, so he saw my feet first, then inched his gaze up until we were eye to eye. I broke the silence and awkwardness with the first word. "Sorry, I'm trying to scare Jacob." "Oh, okay" was the only response. I left and let him do his business. Then I entered again and resumed my post. It was really weird. I was beginning to feel really stupid. However, I stayed determined to finish the job.
At 8:30 am, there was more commotion. Someone had entered the cabin and was looking for Jacob. They woke up the sleeping counselor on the couch. He managed to get rid of the premature visitors. More awkwardness followed - Eric decided to stay up and go to the bathroom. I again, hid behind the door and decided to stay quiet. He entered and saw me immediately. I caught him by surprise - no sound, just the ol' "deer in the headlights" look. Again, breaking the silence first was me - "Sorry, I'm trying to scare Jacob." This time, I received a little satisfaction as he mentioned that I was in fact, quite convincing. I tried to enlist his help by asking him to try the door - but, he was met with the same results. He then knocked on his door and asked him about the campers, in hopes to rouse him out of bed. No luck. The waiting game continued.
By about 8:45 am, I was beginning to really wonder if this was all worth it. I had a lot to do that morning and I had just wasted 45 minutes in another man's bathroom, doing nothing but startling the innocent. Sure, I knew this was shaping out to be quite the story, but I was having serious doubts about the payoff's worth. I decided to stick it out now that all the others were gone and there would be no more interference. Then, 8:50 rolled by - 8:53, 8:55 am... When was he going to get up?! This was going to be cutting it real close. I held on and stood my ground. Finally, motion around 8:57 - he exited his room.... I braced for the payoff.... and he walked right past the bathroom and out of the cabin. My first thought was "You've got to be kidding me! Who doesn't go to the bathroom after waking up?!?!?!"
So, I just sat in a bathroom for an hour and did not accomplish my goal. Ridiculous - I felt like a total goon. Now, the predicament was much bigger than I had anticipated. I could not exit through the front door because campers would be entering and visiting Jacob (he's the health aide) on the other side of the cabin. I needed an alternate escape. I realized that the only way out was through the window. Removing the screen in one of the spare bedrooms was a cinch. I was out in no time at all. Then I just nonchalantly walked away with no one the wiser. It felt good to make a clean get-away, even though I felt like the biggest loser.
It was off to do some damage control - I had to find Eric and Andrew and keep them quiet so word wouldn't spread back to Jacob of my failed attempt. It would have been disaster for my reputation. I reached Andrew first and filled him in - luckily for me, Andrew didn't talk much - so he hadn't told anyone yet. Eric on the other hand, wasn't as tight-lipped. He had told two others - so I raced to find them to keep them from continuing the telephone game. They hadn't said anything else, so at least I was covered there. I couldn't believe what had just happened. What a disaster - and an intrigue. In all my years, I've never met a dude who didn't visit the bathroom to take care of himself right away in the morning. Nothing - not even a drop.
I had to tell the story to somebody - and I managed to fill a few in on the craziness. I found out from one of these hearers that Jacob had freaked out a little when I was trying to get into his room - but his door was latched from the inside. So, I felt that I had at least, on some minuscule level, frightened him psychologically. I decided to play off of this for my next attempt. A few days later, I did return, and I did manage to scare him. Not a great payoff - but a payoff nevertheless.
I shall have to chalk it up to a learning experience and strive for excellence next time. Victory shall be mine...
It seems every time I sit down to post an entry something comes up - the life of a program director is a busy one. I truly love my job, but there have been some long days that have consumed me. I am pleased to see the pieces fitting together and things going more smoothly now. I also have to "check in" with the happenings every so often - like right now. We're playing Bonkers tonight - so I better go catch some of the action. I'll be right back. You won't even know I'm gone.
Enough catching up - I have a funny story to tell. I have been waiting to tell this one for awhile. Here at camp, some of the staff like to pull pranks on one another. Being an old prankster myself, I knew it was a good place to get some of the cobwebs shaken off and get back into the game myself. My brother and another staff member have been busy doing most of the pranking - and have been quite successful. I'm very proud of some of those pranks - and others, I can only shake my head in wonder... For instance, one prank involved revving up a chain less chainsaw in the middle of a campfire near an open field of tall grass - and another involved creeping through a cabin (full of counselors, not campers) dressed as an old woman and mumbling to "herself" at 3 in the morning. They once placed a giant scarecrow in another female staff members' bedroom and so on. So, I decided to get in on the action too. Here's what transpired:
My brother and I had this mask growing up - the old man mask. It's creepy. We both at one time wore it for Halloween. While talking about scary stories one night at camp, we wondered aloud whatever happened to the mask. I told him I'd look for it that weekend while home. We both wanted it for the same reason - and I just happened to be able to look for it before him. I found it alright - but I told him that I hadn't when I returned. So, here I am with the old man mask, trying to pick the most opportune time to unleash it's creepiness upon him and his prankster partner Jacob. I decided that the best time to strike would be early in the morning when they least expected it. I snuck over to Dave's room one morning and crept into his cabin. He was in the shower and his roommate was up - so I aborted my attempt. The next time I tried, the first door to his cabin squeaked loudly - I wondered whether I had already been compromised. When I reached his bedroom door and began to open it slowly, it creaked and squeaked so loudly that it woke him up. I had to dodge out of the way and rip off the mask without him seeing me. I popped back into his room and told him I was looking for something and was sorry to wake him. I departed the cabin - attempt number two was therefore aborted as well.
I waited a few days before trying a third time. When I couldn't get into the cabin without making a lot of noise, I decided that I could not get him the way I wanted to. The original idea was to creep undetected into his bedroom and sit on the edge of his bed, and then sit there silently while wearing the mask and watching him sleep. I would wait for him to awake and see me sitting there. Oh, the fright I would cause. Alas, it was not meant to be. Instead, I decided to try and get his buddy, Jacob, who lived next door and has been the mastermind behind most of the pranks.
Upon entering his cabin, the first variable was Eric, the sleeping counselor on his couch. I tried Jacob's door but it seemed to be locked or jammed somehow. I wasn't going to get in there unheard either. Drat. So, I thought of a plan B quickly. I decided I'd wait in his bathroom - when he got up and inevitably came into the bathroom to go pee (it's a common practice that all men do upon waking up in the morning, right?) he'd receive his surprise from me. Sitting on his toilet would be a creepy old man...ah, the waiting would be so worth it I thought.
As you can probably imagine, things did not go exactly to plan. I started waiting at 8 am. I knew that he needed to be up by 9 am because campers would be visiting him to retrieve their medications then. I assumed he'd probably get up around 8:30 and get ready. I'd only need to wait around 30 minutes. A long time, but worth the pay off for sure. Around 8:20 am, I heard a door open - and it was not Jacob's. I realized that Andrew, his cabin mate, had woken up before him and was about to probably stumble upon me. This was not good - I needed as few people to know of my intentions as possible. Plus, I didn't want to scare an innocent person. I hid behind the door and held my breath. Andrew entered. I stood silently, wearing the mask. He walked slowly in and did not make a sound. He was looking down, so he saw my feet first, then inched his gaze up until we were eye to eye. I broke the silence and awkwardness with the first word. "Sorry, I'm trying to scare Jacob." "Oh, okay" was the only response. I left and let him do his business. Then I entered again and resumed my post. It was really weird. I was beginning to feel really stupid. However, I stayed determined to finish the job.
At 8:30 am, there was more commotion. Someone had entered the cabin and was looking for Jacob. They woke up the sleeping counselor on the couch. He managed to get rid of the premature visitors. More awkwardness followed - Eric decided to stay up and go to the bathroom. I again, hid behind the door and decided to stay quiet. He entered and saw me immediately. I caught him by surprise - no sound, just the ol' "deer in the headlights" look. Again, breaking the silence first was me - "Sorry, I'm trying to scare Jacob." This time, I received a little satisfaction as he mentioned that I was in fact, quite convincing. I tried to enlist his help by asking him to try the door - but, he was met with the same results. He then knocked on his door and asked him about the campers, in hopes to rouse him out of bed. No luck. The waiting game continued.
By about 8:45 am, I was beginning to really wonder if this was all worth it. I had a lot to do that morning and I had just wasted 45 minutes in another man's bathroom, doing nothing but startling the innocent. Sure, I knew this was shaping out to be quite the story, but I was having serious doubts about the payoff's worth. I decided to stick it out now that all the others were gone and there would be no more interference. Then, 8:50 rolled by - 8:53, 8:55 am... When was he going to get up?! This was going to be cutting it real close. I held on and stood my ground. Finally, motion around 8:57 - he exited his room.... I braced for the payoff.... and he walked right past the bathroom and out of the cabin. My first thought was "You've got to be kidding me! Who doesn't go to the bathroom after waking up?!?!?!"
So, I just sat in a bathroom for an hour and did not accomplish my goal. Ridiculous - I felt like a total goon. Now, the predicament was much bigger than I had anticipated. I could not exit through the front door because campers would be entering and visiting Jacob (he's the health aide) on the other side of the cabin. I needed an alternate escape. I realized that the only way out was through the window. Removing the screen in one of the spare bedrooms was a cinch. I was out in no time at all. Then I just nonchalantly walked away with no one the wiser. It felt good to make a clean get-away, even though I felt like the biggest loser.
It was off to do some damage control - I had to find Eric and Andrew and keep them quiet so word wouldn't spread back to Jacob of my failed attempt. It would have been disaster for my reputation. I reached Andrew first and filled him in - luckily for me, Andrew didn't talk much - so he hadn't told anyone yet. Eric on the other hand, wasn't as tight-lipped. He had told two others - so I raced to find them to keep them from continuing the telephone game. They hadn't said anything else, so at least I was covered there. I couldn't believe what had just happened. What a disaster - and an intrigue. In all my years, I've never met a dude who didn't visit the bathroom to take care of himself right away in the morning. Nothing - not even a drop.
I had to tell the story to somebody - and I managed to fill a few in on the craziness. I found out from one of these hearers that Jacob had freaked out a little when I was trying to get into his room - but his door was latched from the inside. So, I felt that I had at least, on some minuscule level, frightened him psychologically. I decided to play off of this for my next attempt. A few days later, I did return, and I did manage to scare him. Not a great payoff - but a payoff nevertheless.
I shall have to chalk it up to a learning experience and strive for excellence next time. Victory shall be mine...
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A Day in the Life at camp...
Since many of you reading this are not at camp with me, I thought I would give you a typical day in the life here, or some general information of what we do here. As the previous entry states, camp is truly a wonderful place. There are times when so much is going on and and other times when life just simply trots along peacefully and still.
As I sit here writing, I can hear the excited screams and voices of children in the distance. Who knows what they are doing, but I can tell that they are having fun whatever it is. Ahh, there is no place like camp - that is for sure. A playground might come close to simulating camp life, but, I would have to say, I just can't get enough of this place.
Our day starts off at 7:50 am - the kids gather in the dining hall for "First Word" - a story, scripture or activity that prepares them for the day ahead. Usually it's something simple and to the point, kind of like taking a deep breath and exhaling before the start of a big day. During this, the counselors meet upstairs for a quick 10 minute "stand up" meeting where we detail the day's events, check in with each other and how the previous night/day went and cover any announcements. Then we pray together and join the campers for breakfast. After breakfast, the kids return to their cabins for "Cabin Clean-up" - where they sweep, sort, pick-up garbage and beat out the rugs of their messy lodgings. I am always amazed how quickly and easily these cabins get messy - most of the boys' cabins are so full of clothes that you cannot see the real wood floor.
After the cabins get cleaned, we join together for morning worship. We will either gather in the chapel or at the outdoor space, simply referred to as the "Chimney" (benches set up around an old chimney, remnants from a structure of long ago.) After worship, the counselors take the kids from their cabin (anywhere from 7-12 kids per cabin group) and have "Cabin Time." There are 2 of these Cabin Times during the day, and the counselor are to choose which one they will conduct the day's bible study and which time slot they will use to hang out and do some sort of group bonding activity. Then we gather for a large group game or activity as a whole. Sometimes we have a "Songfest" where we learn all the camp songs we'll be singing for the week and other times this activity could be water oly's (Olympics) at the beach, various tag games and other fun large group stuff. Today, we did something special for our theme this summer "Just for Life" - focusing on God's Justice in the world. We put on a "Hunger Meal" where the kids got to experience the hunger issues first hand in sort of an experiential learning activity, while also watching some videos, images, scripture and world hunger facts displayed on a power point presentation. We concluded with discussion in our cabin groups and as a whole. There is never a shortage of trying new things throughout our day - keeps the counselors on their toes as well as providing variety for the campers.
After lunch there is always some kind of ADE (After Dinner Entertainment.) This is where the counselors act goofy and do some sort of random skit or totally pointless action that gives the kids time to laugh and digest their food. I've been known to join in on the fun from time to time, which is always a high point of the day. The kids then have some quiet time in their cabins before the second cabin time of the day. After this, the kids have free time from 2-4 pm. They can swim, take the boats out, play 4 square, go to the craft cabin, hang out, play carpet ball or whatever else they feel like for 2 hours. This is also a time for us to interact with them and take some time to just get to know the kids more and have some fun. I love getting out in the water and stirring up some fun - last week, my brother Dave, myself and another counselor played a sweet game of keep-away for an hour in the shallow water with a host of girl campers. Sure we all got face-fulls of water splashed in our eyes, but we had a great time. Then we hit up the deep end and jumped off the water trampoline. The kids almost always call for belly-flops from the counselors. We oblige, and then painfully exit the beach.
After free time concludes, we give the counselors their only hour off from their campers. This is called "Power Hour." The APD's (Assistant Program Directors) play a game with the campers during this time. Last week, we played "Fishy Fishy" for an hour. I played along - it was a nice way to get some wind sprints in my day. We have mail call and CCA's from 5-5:30. CCA's (Cabin Clean-up Awards) are given to - you guessed it - the cleanest cabin from the morning. Kids have been known to become quite competitive for these - which is great for us - cleaner cabins result! After dinner and another round of ADE's, the staff go upstairs for the evening staff meeting and devotions while the kids go "Out to Pasture" for some free time. Next we play another large group game - perhaps "Indiana Jesus," "Staff Hunt," or "Bonkers" (more on this game another time) or the Tuesday night "Hymn Sing" in the church followed by an ice cream social. When the game is over we have another free time allotted for the kids called "Quick Dip" - the beach is open and they have about 45 minutes to do whatever. The evening ends with a campfire worship service down by the beach - where God delivers some of the best sunsets on the earth, over Lake Andrew.
Post campfire we send the campers to their cabins for night devo's (devotions) with their counselors. FYI - Each cabin is two-sided, with around 10-12 bunks on each side. I will try to shoot some photos of this at some point to the blog. Occasionally a cabin will arrange some shenanigans like a "kitchen raid" - where they'll "sneak out" and grab some goodies from the kitchen. This is quite funny because the kitchen staff will leave stuff out for them with notes that read "Do not eat" - but the kids of course, don't realize that they know...which makes it also funny when I suddenly appear and give them a scare - "RUN!!" Good times. (Not that we encourage stealing and lying or anything...) Lastly, we finish up the day with a little "nightwatch" duty, where someone is to walk the grounds and keep an ear on the weather radio in case of storms. Should some bad weather come through, the nightwatch person would alert the APD's, who will decide if we need to move the kids to the storm shelter AKA "Party Room." Should we take cover in the Party Room, trust me, a good time always ensues as we keep the kids occupied with lots of crazy fun and distractions. Almost without fail, the kids always note that time spent in the Party Room is their favorite highlight from camp.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about the last night of camp! Sheesh! Well, we have a "musical" where the counselors put on a show for the campers. This is a play based on the theme for the summer, and music is sung in between the scenes. So, it's not really a musical in the technical sense as it is a play with music. Either way, it is A LOT of fun and the energy hits an all-time high by the end and then we all sing together some favorite songs from the week - awesome time, to say the least.
That is enough for now - it's free time after all, and I want to go do something fun (not that writing isn't, but something fun OUTDOORS.) Rebecca and I are going to take the kayaks out or something else...we're burning daylight, so I'll catch ya later!
As I sit here writing, I can hear the excited screams and voices of children in the distance. Who knows what they are doing, but I can tell that they are having fun whatever it is. Ahh, there is no place like camp - that is for sure. A playground might come close to simulating camp life, but, I would have to say, I just can't get enough of this place.
Our day starts off at 7:50 am - the kids gather in the dining hall for "First Word" - a story, scripture or activity that prepares them for the day ahead. Usually it's something simple and to the point, kind of like taking a deep breath and exhaling before the start of a big day. During this, the counselors meet upstairs for a quick 10 minute "stand up" meeting where we detail the day's events, check in with each other and how the previous night/day went and cover any announcements. Then we pray together and join the campers for breakfast. After breakfast, the kids return to their cabins for "Cabin Clean-up" - where they sweep, sort, pick-up garbage and beat out the rugs of their messy lodgings. I am always amazed how quickly and easily these cabins get messy - most of the boys' cabins are so full of clothes that you cannot see the real wood floor.
After the cabins get cleaned, we join together for morning worship. We will either gather in the chapel or at the outdoor space, simply referred to as the "Chimney" (benches set up around an old chimney, remnants from a structure of long ago.) After worship, the counselors take the kids from their cabin (anywhere from 7-12 kids per cabin group) and have "Cabin Time." There are 2 of these Cabin Times during the day, and the counselor are to choose which one they will conduct the day's bible study and which time slot they will use to hang out and do some sort of group bonding activity. Then we gather for a large group game or activity as a whole. Sometimes we have a "Songfest" where we learn all the camp songs we'll be singing for the week and other times this activity could be water oly's (Olympics) at the beach, various tag games and other fun large group stuff. Today, we did something special for our theme this summer "Just for Life" - focusing on God's Justice in the world. We put on a "Hunger Meal" where the kids got to experience the hunger issues first hand in sort of an experiential learning activity, while also watching some videos, images, scripture and world hunger facts displayed on a power point presentation. We concluded with discussion in our cabin groups and as a whole. There is never a shortage of trying new things throughout our day - keeps the counselors on their toes as well as providing variety for the campers.
After lunch there is always some kind of ADE (After Dinner Entertainment.) This is where the counselors act goofy and do some sort of random skit or totally pointless action that gives the kids time to laugh and digest their food. I've been known to join in on the fun from time to time, which is always a high point of the day. The kids then have some quiet time in their cabins before the second cabin time of the day. After this, the kids have free time from 2-4 pm. They can swim, take the boats out, play 4 square, go to the craft cabin, hang out, play carpet ball or whatever else they feel like for 2 hours. This is also a time for us to interact with them and take some time to just get to know the kids more and have some fun. I love getting out in the water and stirring up some fun - last week, my brother Dave, myself and another counselor played a sweet game of keep-away for an hour in the shallow water with a host of girl campers. Sure we all got face-fulls of water splashed in our eyes, but we had a great time. Then we hit up the deep end and jumped off the water trampoline. The kids almost always call for belly-flops from the counselors. We oblige, and then painfully exit the beach.
After free time concludes, we give the counselors their only hour off from their campers. This is called "Power Hour." The APD's (Assistant Program Directors) play a game with the campers during this time. Last week, we played "Fishy Fishy" for an hour. I played along - it was a nice way to get some wind sprints in my day. We have mail call and CCA's from 5-5:30. CCA's (Cabin Clean-up Awards) are given to - you guessed it - the cleanest cabin from the morning. Kids have been known to become quite competitive for these - which is great for us - cleaner cabins result! After dinner and another round of ADE's, the staff go upstairs for the evening staff meeting and devotions while the kids go "Out to Pasture" for some free time. Next we play another large group game - perhaps "Indiana Jesus," "Staff Hunt," or "Bonkers" (more on this game another time) or the Tuesday night "Hymn Sing" in the church followed by an ice cream social. When the game is over we have another free time allotted for the kids called "Quick Dip" - the beach is open and they have about 45 minutes to do whatever. The evening ends with a campfire worship service down by the beach - where God delivers some of the best sunsets on the earth, over Lake Andrew.
Post campfire we send the campers to their cabins for night devo's (devotions) with their counselors. FYI - Each cabin is two-sided, with around 10-12 bunks on each side. I will try to shoot some photos of this at some point to the blog. Occasionally a cabin will arrange some shenanigans like a "kitchen raid" - where they'll "sneak out" and grab some goodies from the kitchen. This is quite funny because the kitchen staff will leave stuff out for them with notes that read "Do not eat" - but the kids of course, don't realize that they know...which makes it also funny when I suddenly appear and give them a scare - "RUN!!" Good times. (Not that we encourage stealing and lying or anything...) Lastly, we finish up the day with a little "nightwatch" duty, where someone is to walk the grounds and keep an ear on the weather radio in case of storms. Should some bad weather come through, the nightwatch person would alert the APD's, who will decide if we need to move the kids to the storm shelter AKA "Party Room." Should we take cover in the Party Room, trust me, a good time always ensues as we keep the kids occupied with lots of crazy fun and distractions. Almost without fail, the kids always note that time spent in the Party Room is their favorite highlight from camp.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about the last night of camp! Sheesh! Well, we have a "musical" where the counselors put on a show for the campers. This is a play based on the theme for the summer, and music is sung in between the scenes. So, it's not really a musical in the technical sense as it is a play with music. Either way, it is A LOT of fun and the energy hits an all-time high by the end and then we all sing together some favorite songs from the week - awesome time, to say the least.
That is enough for now - it's free time after all, and I want to go do something fun (not that writing isn't, but something fun OUTDOORS.) Rebecca and I are going to take the kayaks out or something else...we're burning daylight, so I'll catch ya later!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Only at Camp...
The sun has gone down on my first full day as Site Director at Shores of St. Andrew Bible Camp. It has truly been one of the finest days of work that I have ever had - and the best part is that there are plenty more to come. It is hard to imagine having a bad day at camp so early in the summer - I know it's possible, but for right now, I am just going to savor the sweet feeling of a great day.
This morning I had the privilege of sharing about Lutheran theology with a group of teenagers who decided to spend a week at camp devoting themselves to learning how to be leaders in their congregation. At lunch today, I joined some counselors in an A.D.E (After Dinner Entertainment) that I created 9 years ago when I was a counselor ("Hooked on a Feeling" for those of you who remember.) This afternoon I ran around with the kids during the counselor's hour off, playing "Fishy Fishy" tag - getting a chance to see just how out of shape I am. This evening, I led the devotion at the staff meeting, speaking God's word into to their exhausted and spirit thirsty souls. After the meeting, I heeded my own advice and took some time to recharge my own batteries and went for a run. Ahh, only at camp can so much be packed into one day! Then, while sitting in my office to update my blog with new pictures - I caught yet another beautiful sunset on Lake Andrew while listening to excited campers sing their hearts out at the lakeside campfire worship service. It truly has been a wonderful day.
As I retreat to my new summer home to catch some much deserved shut-eye, I reflect on all of God's blessings this day. It's amazing how life's troubles just seem to float away in this place full of so much innocence, energy, faith and fun. I feel like I should write so much more to you, but I just can't seem to stay on the page right now. I feel so light and peaceful. I'm just going to trust my instincts and call it a day. Good night friends - I'll save the rest for another time. God's peace to you wherever life is leading you.
"This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24
So very, very, very true.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
It's all Greek
I am now only three days into my first seminary class and I am fully consumed with the Greek language of the New Testament. Of the 14 hours I have been awake today, roughly 12 of them have been focused on Greek. I cannot stop thinking about it – I even dream about it at night. I spent this morning running through the order of the Greek alphabet again, making sure I had it down. I ate breakfast with my homework in front of me, making sure I had given my absolute best effort. I wondered to myself when the next opportunity would be to test myself on vocab would come. I can't shake this Greek stuff!
Yes, it’s hard. For those of you out there who’ve said to me at one point or another “It’s all Greek to me” – I feel this same sentiment at least 5 times during every class period. So much goes over my head – I stare blankly with a “huh?” look on my face and remind myself that all I need to do is pass the class. I know I am going to pass this class. God has not left me nor has my sense of peace – not once have I had second thoughts about taking this course during the summer. I may feel differently once I resume my camp duties in a couple of weeks – but, even then, I know where my help comes from… the Lord Jesus. Also, I’m not completely clueless – my pre-study of Greek has given me a great jump on vocabulary memorization. When doing reviews in class, I kind of get excited to “bring it on” and see how many words I know. I am excited – seriously – to take the 324 word test at the end of the course. Yes, I definitely feel confident of my vocabulary retention – but that is about as far as my confidence gets me right now. The rest is grammar – verb indicative participle third person singular – blah blah blah – what the???? (Insert “it’s all Greek to me" quote here)
As difficult as it all is, I’m enjoying my time so far. There are so many nutrients that the word of God has to offer – I just cannot believe how complex and all-consuming Greek really is. Every now and then I stop and think to myself, “I’m learning Greek!” and feel quietly proud of this fact. Then I realize how far behind I feel with actually grasping a clue in the course and delve back into my work. Each day that passes I know I am that much closer to acquiring enough knowledge or at least the tools to assist with sermon and bible study preparation, and this is a great feeling. I found myself actually looking forward to finishing class today so that I could get home to study on my own – a sign that truly indicates that I am now a “school lover” and in the zone unlike any other time in my life… eivj do,xan qeou/ patro,j (to the glory of God the Father - the closest I can get to the actual Greek without downloading the program!)
Yes, it’s hard. For those of you out there who’ve said to me at one point or another “It’s all Greek to me” – I feel this same sentiment at least 5 times during every class period. So much goes over my head – I stare blankly with a “huh?” look on my face and remind myself that all I need to do is pass the class. I know I am going to pass this class. God has not left me nor has my sense of peace – not once have I had second thoughts about taking this course during the summer. I may feel differently once I resume my camp duties in a couple of weeks – but, even then, I know where my help comes from… the Lord Jesus. Also, I’m not completely clueless – my pre-study of Greek has given me a great jump on vocabulary memorization. When doing reviews in class, I kind of get excited to “bring it on” and see how many words I know. I am excited – seriously – to take the 324 word test at the end of the course. Yes, I definitely feel confident of my vocabulary retention – but that is about as far as my confidence gets me right now. The rest is grammar – verb indicative participle third person singular – blah blah blah – what the???? (Insert “it’s all Greek to me" quote here)
As difficult as it all is, I’m enjoying my time so far. There are so many nutrients that the word of God has to offer – I just cannot believe how complex and all-consuming Greek really is. Every now and then I stop and think to myself, “I’m learning Greek!” and feel quietly proud of this fact. Then I realize how far behind I feel with actually grasping a clue in the course and delve back into my work. Each day that passes I know I am that much closer to acquiring enough knowledge or at least the tools to assist with sermon and bible study preparation, and this is a great feeling. I found myself actually looking forward to finishing class today so that I could get home to study on my own – a sign that truly indicates that I am now a “school lover” and in the zone unlike any other time in my life… eivj do,xan qeou/ patro,j (to the glory of God the Father - the closest I can get to the actual Greek without downloading the program!)
Friday, May 23, 2008
In Tents Discomfort
I've been at camp for a week - and most of this week I've been without the comforts of technology - no TV, radio and no Internet. It has been a combination of sweet and peaceful bliss and downright creepy eeriness. I've gone from feeling completely overwhelmed, uncomfortable, homesick to confident, happy and faith filled over the span of 5 days - I know there is still much to learn, but at least the "holy cow what have I gotten myself into?" feelings have subsided considerably. I won't bore you with any details, but I have definitely enjoyed this shift in pace and locale. I must admit my wimpiness though - the Minnesota climate is quite cooler, and I am not used to it yet - nor really want to be used to it. Although, I will conquer this challenge too - we'll see how I handle the Northern Minnesota wilderness next week. And here I scoffed at my wife's idea to bring my long underwear. Stupid me - oh well, I've learned...
Life is good despite missing my wife incredibly. Nights are really lonely - even though I get a phone call in to Rebecca every night, it's what I go through after hanging up that has been the biggest adjustment. For instance, being alone in a cabin in the woods with an active imagination - well, it becomes very burdensome. I hear everything - every creek, every shift - every tiny little bump in the night. The ear plugs have been handy, as well as the fan. Last night though, there was little relief. I hope this was the worst sleepless night of the summer...I awoke in the middle of the night to sweltering heat around me. I had tweaked the thermostat before bed (mistake #1) so that I wouldn't be as cold in the morning. Then on my way from the light switch into bed I drilled my foot on the metal corner of the bed? Yeah, it was quite the painful omen to my night ahead...At 3 am I woke up and looked at my handy alarm clock that had a built in thermometer - and it said that my room was 89 degrees. I got up and tried to turn the heat off - and I think I realized it was broken. I tried turning the fan on high and opening the windows. The heater was still cranking out the heat. Hot, sweaty, restless and my foot hurt something awful...
By the wee hours of the morning, I had moved to the other room. I didn't get much sleep to say the least. But, everyday is a new day. I look forward to some restful sleep this evening. I managed to shut the main power to the heaters off this afternoon - and my room is now back to a much more comfortable 70 degrees.
Well, it is back to camp. I apologize for not writing sooner - see top paragraph about the lack of internet. It's good to be here - I look forward to sharing the many stories that await me... stay tuned!
Life is good despite missing my wife incredibly. Nights are really lonely - even though I get a phone call in to Rebecca every night, it's what I go through after hanging up that has been the biggest adjustment. For instance, being alone in a cabin in the woods with an active imagination - well, it becomes very burdensome. I hear everything - every creek, every shift - every tiny little bump in the night. The ear plugs have been handy, as well as the fan. Last night though, there was little relief. I hope this was the worst sleepless night of the summer...I awoke in the middle of the night to sweltering heat around me. I had tweaked the thermostat before bed (mistake #1) so that I wouldn't be as cold in the morning. Then on my way from the light switch into bed I drilled my foot on the metal corner of the bed? Yeah, it was quite the painful omen to my night ahead...At 3 am I woke up and looked at my handy alarm clock that had a built in thermometer - and it said that my room was 89 degrees. I got up and tried to turn the heat off - and I think I realized it was broken. I tried turning the fan on high and opening the windows. The heater was still cranking out the heat. Hot, sweaty, restless and my foot hurt something awful...
By the wee hours of the morning, I had moved to the other room. I didn't get much sleep to say the least. But, everyday is a new day. I look forward to some restful sleep this evening. I managed to shut the main power to the heaters off this afternoon - and my room is now back to a much more comfortable 70 degrees.
Well, it is back to camp. I apologize for not writing sooner - see top paragraph about the lack of internet. It's good to be here - I look forward to sharing the many stories that await me... stay tuned!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Lost Keys
Ah, my last post from Richmond has arrived. Let’s all pause for a moment of reflection. Are we good now? Ok – so this final entry is a doozy. It may seem eerily familiar to the entry “I’m With Stupid” from last fall, where I agonized over the loss of my jump drive. Yes, this is definitely along those same lines my friends – history has a way of repeating itself sometimes, much to our distress.
On Sunday afternoon, while Rebecca and I were busily packing up the house, we received a surprise drop in visit from our good friend Beth and her 1 ½ year old son, Jared. We were thrilled to A) see Beth and Jared again and B) have more help packing. We quickly put Beth to work on the kitchen dishes while I returned to the living room to sort through some papers. Jared, plopped down into this new playroom utopia, simply stood quietly in the kitchen, taking it all in and trying to decide what to do first. Then, taking his first steps around our home (he’d been here before, but not since he’s learned how to walk on his own) he went over to the phone table and picked up our car keys and my name tag. Beth then mentioned that he loved her keys and often walked around with them and refused to let go. We were cool with it – go ahead Jared – go crazy little guy. We continued to take turns watching this little blond haired cutey walk around our chaotic house, full of boxes and mess. It was definitely a fine place for him to play and cause trouble as only boys know how to it seems.
After a little while, I noticed that he had dropped the keys and name tag in front of me in the living room. I remember looking at them sitting there on the floor and thinking, “Ok, there are the keys – right in the middle of the floor. I better remember to pick them up…” I then continued to pack stuff up and move into another section of the house. Eventually it was time for our friends to depart – and we hugged them and saw them head out into the rain and drive off down our street for the last time (for me anyway.)
The next morning when it was time to take Rebecca to work, I could not find the car keys. I looked back in the living room where I had last seen them, and lo and behold, they were not there. The name tag had been returned, but the keys were missing. I casually checked the house for the new placement of the keys, but did not see them anywhere in plain view. I grabbed the spare keys and mentioned to Rebecca that I couldn’t find the first set and we were on our way. The way to work was focused on the missing keys. “Where did he put them? Where did we see him playing? Where was the last place we saw them? (I told her about the living room spot) and so on. We were unsettled. We were crabby. We couldn’t believe that now, of all times to lose your keys – in a house now full of possible hiding places – that we were facing this challenge.
I returned home and searched the house. Nothing. No sign or trace. I tried to get inside Jared’s little brain with no success. Jared was turning out to be quite the sneaky hider. I continued on my errands and “honey do” list for the morning. I picked Rebecca up from work for lunch and we searched the house again for an hour. Nothing. We were baffled as to how this little guy could have foiled us so easily. After more looking, I finally put my tail between my legs and called Beth. She laughed and we laughed some more at how Jared had struck yet again. She informed me of his “record.” Apparently, this is not Jared’s first time. No, he has successfully hidden her parents’ DVD Player remote – to which they still cannot find. He has also re-programmed her in-laws’ answering machine, to which they still cannot reset back to the way they had it. Yes, Jared is a trouble maker with quite the success rate. I still remember him standing and surveying our house when he first arrived – silent and smirking – absorbing all that lay before him. I love that kid and wow, I was now respecting him like no other 1 ½ year old. I thought I was a good hider of things – but this kid, he had reset the bar – and it was much higher now.
Day one of searching proved no results, only more unsettled feelings and agonizing “what ifs?” Upon waking this morning, it was on our mind but nothing was said. We resolved to not talking about it in order to hopefully stumble across them “when we weren’t looking for them.” It was the only way to having some shred of peace. After Rebecca left and I sat alone plotting my last day of Richmond out, I made my own resolution: I was going to find those keys. I threw on my head lamp and dropped to my knees and crawled around every inch of this house – determined to find what I so badly wanted. I kept thinking of Jared trotting around the house the other day – of all his moves and everything I saw him doing. I couldn’t help but try to psychoanalyze him like they do on those detective shows. I was trying to get inside his mind and decipher what his moves were. I thought of him pounding the TV screen and shutting the stereo off and turning it back on again. I saw him in every nook and cranny of this house, holding tightly to those keys until something new and exciting caught his attention and – clink – the keys were dropped…somewhere…
Yes, I am determined to not let this hang over me as I leave this fine state. I don’t want Beth to worry that her innocent child had somehow attributed to our lack of peace in our home in our last days in it. No, I am not going to let little Jared out fox this fox – I am going to conquer his challenge and find those keys.
As I looked and looked, I kept muttering in a determined mantra – “I’m going to find the keys.” I couldn’t believe that our keys were gone without a trace. I just could not accept this fact. Peering into boxes, sorting through clothes and blankets, underneath furniture and into bags that had been checked and re-checked a hundred times by both of us – all turned up nothing and then… I found the keys. YES! I found the keys!! Looking into a big bag of gifts bags in the kitchen, flipping through everything in it, there, in the corner of the bag sat the missing keys. I grabbed them and hoisted them high above my head and let out a victorious roar of delight – success at last. I cannot begin to describe the joy of this moment. I am still on an absolute natural high. Before getting side-tracked on my search mission, I was preparing to go for a run. I can now resume my day’s plan – I can go on that run in a new frame of mind. The day is shaping up to be a fine one – this is surely going to be a glorious run – no thoughts of those missing keys now. Praise God indeed.
“Or suppose a (man and woman) has a (set of keys) and loses them. Does he not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until he finds it? And when he finds it, he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost keys!” In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” Luke 15:8-10
Luther Seminary, here I come.
On Sunday afternoon, while Rebecca and I were busily packing up the house, we received a surprise drop in visit from our good friend Beth and her 1 ½ year old son, Jared. We were thrilled to A) see Beth and Jared again and B) have more help packing. We quickly put Beth to work on the kitchen dishes while I returned to the living room to sort through some papers. Jared, plopped down into this new playroom utopia, simply stood quietly in the kitchen, taking it all in and trying to decide what to do first. Then, taking his first steps around our home (he’d been here before, but not since he’s learned how to walk on his own) he went over to the phone table and picked up our car keys and my name tag. Beth then mentioned that he loved her keys and often walked around with them and refused to let go. We were cool with it – go ahead Jared – go crazy little guy. We continued to take turns watching this little blond haired cutey walk around our chaotic house, full of boxes and mess. It was definitely a fine place for him to play and cause trouble as only boys know how to it seems.
After a little while, I noticed that he had dropped the keys and name tag in front of me in the living room. I remember looking at them sitting there on the floor and thinking, “Ok, there are the keys – right in the middle of the floor. I better remember to pick them up…” I then continued to pack stuff up and move into another section of the house. Eventually it was time for our friends to depart – and we hugged them and saw them head out into the rain and drive off down our street for the last time (for me anyway.)
The next morning when it was time to take Rebecca to work, I could not find the car keys. I looked back in the living room where I had last seen them, and lo and behold, they were not there. The name tag had been returned, but the keys were missing. I casually checked the house for the new placement of the keys, but did not see them anywhere in plain view. I grabbed the spare keys and mentioned to Rebecca that I couldn’t find the first set and we were on our way. The way to work was focused on the missing keys. “Where did he put them? Where did we see him playing? Where was the last place we saw them? (I told her about the living room spot) and so on. We were unsettled. We were crabby. We couldn’t believe that now, of all times to lose your keys – in a house now full of possible hiding places – that we were facing this challenge.
I returned home and searched the house. Nothing. No sign or trace. I tried to get inside Jared’s little brain with no success. Jared was turning out to be quite the sneaky hider. I continued on my errands and “honey do” list for the morning. I picked Rebecca up from work for lunch and we searched the house again for an hour. Nothing. We were baffled as to how this little guy could have foiled us so easily. After more looking, I finally put my tail between my legs and called Beth. She laughed and we laughed some more at how Jared had struck yet again. She informed me of his “record.” Apparently, this is not Jared’s first time. No, he has successfully hidden her parents’ DVD Player remote – to which they still cannot find. He has also re-programmed her in-laws’ answering machine, to which they still cannot reset back to the way they had it. Yes, Jared is a trouble maker with quite the success rate. I still remember him standing and surveying our house when he first arrived – silent and smirking – absorbing all that lay before him. I love that kid and wow, I was now respecting him like no other 1 ½ year old. I thought I was a good hider of things – but this kid, he had reset the bar – and it was much higher now.
Day one of searching proved no results, only more unsettled feelings and agonizing “what ifs?” Upon waking this morning, it was on our mind but nothing was said. We resolved to not talking about it in order to hopefully stumble across them “when we weren’t looking for them.” It was the only way to having some shred of peace. After Rebecca left and I sat alone plotting my last day of Richmond out, I made my own resolution: I was going to find those keys. I threw on my head lamp and dropped to my knees and crawled around every inch of this house – determined to find what I so badly wanted. I kept thinking of Jared trotting around the house the other day – of all his moves and everything I saw him doing. I couldn’t help but try to psychoanalyze him like they do on those detective shows. I was trying to get inside his mind and decipher what his moves were. I thought of him pounding the TV screen and shutting the stereo off and turning it back on again. I saw him in every nook and cranny of this house, holding tightly to those keys until something new and exciting caught his attention and – clink – the keys were dropped…somewhere…
Yes, I am determined to not let this hang over me as I leave this fine state. I don’t want Beth to worry that her innocent child had somehow attributed to our lack of peace in our home in our last days in it. No, I am not going to let little Jared out fox this fox – I am going to conquer his challenge and find those keys.
As I looked and looked, I kept muttering in a determined mantra – “I’m going to find the keys.” I couldn’t believe that our keys were gone without a trace. I just could not accept this fact. Peering into boxes, sorting through clothes and blankets, underneath furniture and into bags that had been checked and re-checked a hundred times by both of us – all turned up nothing and then… I found the keys. YES! I found the keys!! Looking into a big bag of gifts bags in the kitchen, flipping through everything in it, there, in the corner of the bag sat the missing keys. I grabbed them and hoisted them high above my head and let out a victorious roar of delight – success at last. I cannot begin to describe the joy of this moment. I am still on an absolute natural high. Before getting side-tracked on my search mission, I was preparing to go for a run. I can now resume my day’s plan – I can go on that run in a new frame of mind. The day is shaping up to be a fine one – this is surely going to be a glorious run – no thoughts of those missing keys now. Praise God indeed.
“Or suppose a (man and woman) has a (set of keys) and loses them. Does he not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until he finds it? And when he finds it, he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost keys!” In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” Luke 15:8-10
Luther Seminary, here I come.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Richmond Recap
I feel there is still a need to summarize just where life has led me these last few years. As we've begun the packing process at home, so many memories come to the surface as items and photos are discovered and sorted into boxes. Since memory can be tricky the older we get, I feel a recap would be a great way to catalog for myself where the road in Richmond has taken me. Perhaps you, the reader, will find enlightenment and enjoyment as well. The immediate future holds encounters, experiences and insights which will be described and shared in the upcoming lifeintents "issues" of the "Camp Chronicles" and the "Luther Low Down" - but now, take it easy as I proudly present to you, the Richmond Recap:
It all goes back to 2003 when we first arrived in Richmond around the first of October. Through apartment searching a couple months prior, I had decided on a gem of a place in the West End - where I was told "was the place to live in Richmond." Memories and stories come to mind of apartment shopping with Sheffi, my good friend from NC State, and the vast array of choices that presented themselves before landing at the Wilde Lake apartments. Having left our jobs and income in Minnesota, we relied on our faith and savings to carry us for the remainder of the year as we bonded and found odd jobs around the city. I worked across the street at Video 2000 as a clerk and Rebecca settled on JCPenney a few miles away at the Regency Square Mall. We also got lucky with becoming "Christmas Casuals" at the Post Office for the busy holiday season - making good money and having even better times behind the scenes sorting mail. We also decided on where to worship on Sunday mornings after visiting different congregations around the area, doing what most refer to as "church shopping." Most places were of Lutheran tradition, but we took a shot at one Methodist church a block away from our apartment. We lasted through the service, but the live Bengal Tiger on display for the children's message was a bit much for our tastes. Eventually, the Spirit guided us to St. Luke Lutheran church off of Chippenham Parkway - our first church south of the James River. Their friendliness, inviting worship and over all Christian warmth "sold" us immediately and we looked no further. By Thanksgiving 2003, we became members.
It was shortly after joining St. Luke in November 2003 that we began meeting and building friendships through the "Big Picture" young adult sunday school class. This proved to be a highlight for both of us and we looked forward to our interaction and bible study every sunday. Soon we were getting together for "game nights" on the weekends and deepening our relationships on a more consistent basis. By January 2004, Rebecca had landed a full-time job at Richmond Behavioral Health Authority (RBHA) in downtown Richmond. I on the other hand, was still trying to find my place in the working world, and floated between the Video store, substitute teaching and my one-day-a-week "internship" at the Virginia Film Office. I continued to peruse the job listings daily for something I could really sink my teeth into. By March, I came across just the place - Challenge Discovery, an outdoor high ropes course and teambuilding facility. I was soon full throttle excited for this job, unleashing my passion for the outdoors, people and experiential learning. It was a powerful place of employment to say the least and I had no difficulty fitting in and excelling.
Throughout 2004 we continued our involvement at St. Luke with the Youth Ministry and had become regulars in the church choir. We continued building relationships at Game Night with our friends as well as getting out to explore Virginia together. Ever since we arrived and until now, we've really enjoyed taking time to be tourists and see what Richmond and Virginia had to offer: Maymont (pictured), Belle Isle, Monticello, Williamsburg, the beach, Shenandoah National Park, Bottoms Up Pizza, Carytown, Civil War history, Deep Run park, the spy museum and DC, Water Country USA, the Braves games, fishing in the Chesapeake, Natural Bridge, Swift Creek Theatre, outdoor malls, Pocahontas State Park, Jamestown, Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, Crabtree Falls - there really is alot to do here and I'm sure I left things out. And I still think the concept behind Virginia as a Commonwealth is somewhat elusive and hard to understand let alone explain to others. On the film scene I had also become a regular "Production Assistant" (aka PA), getting some experience doing behind the camera work on commercials for Geico insurance (the Gecko ads) and several other gigs around the area with "Dreams Factory" a local TV and Film company. Eventually all of my coffee making, errand running and boom microphone holding landed me a coveted spot with Lionheart Productions and Virginia local legend Director Kevin Hershberger on his civil war pic "No Retreat from Destiny." I traveled to Maryland and spent a week outdoors with the crew. I was still relegated to much of the same PA junk jobs, but was given a little excitement suiting up in Civil War (I think I was a Yankee) garb and getting in the middle of the action as I followed the camera around during the war re-enactments. I met some solid people that week and was able to have a lot of fun in my film pursuits.
When 2005 rolled around, Rebecca and I were truly invested in Richmond, Virginia. We had begun to give alot of thought to sticking around long-term, as we really loved life here. When we initially moved, we told ourselves, "it will be a nice change of pace for us when we eventually move back to Minnesota." By 2005, we were definitely saying "if" instead of "when" - we simply were having the time of our lives here. I was still unsure where I belonged career wise - I had many part-time jobs and the film career wasn't taking off or feeling worth it to keep pursuing for the long-haul. I had caught a big break with "Blue Tip TV" as a PA on the set of "Spad Johnson, Private Eye" a film noir made-for-TV movie about a Bogart-esque private eye in 1950. I even landed a job as "Head Writer" for the company and developed a few screenplays for future productions. It seemed like the perfect job and a dream come true for me, but I slowly began to grow disenchanted with the plans of a future in the film business. I loved writing no doubt, but the long hours and pace of the industry didn't seem as "glamorous" as I once thought it would be. Rebecca had become burnt out with the leadership and politics at her employment with RBHA and we both knew that our health demanded some positive change to keep us going strong. By the end of 2005, Rebecca got the job of her dreams at Chesterfield County Mental Health, a mere 5 miles from home (our first house!) I decided to pursue a full-time job and end my pursuit of a career in film, once and for all.
January 2006 I began as the Student Organization Coordinator at VCU - the first full-time job since leaving Rochester, MN 3 years prior. I had used my experience at Challenge Discovery to really nail down what I was passionate about and transfer it into building strong teams and leadership within the student orgs of VCU. It didn't take long to become excited and thankful for the opportunity at VCU, as I became invested in my new found purpose with the students and staff in the university community. Rebecca had also become rooted in her new and improved place of employment and found herself feeling better and better each day there. We were also busy with the Youth Ministry at church and were truly fulfilled in our service. We had also added a few new friends to our group and were pleased to have such a fun and supportive gang to hang out with. Relationships at church also deepened and our many interactions and circles of involvement kept us in good spiritual and social health.
2007 and 2008 have been like a blur - I can't believe my time is actually up in just a few days. We were really busy throughout 2007 - lots of camping, trips out of state (and country) and over all enjoyment of our places of employment, worship and recreational lives. *Before continuing, it is worth mentioning that our 5 years have not been all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows - we have definitely been refined by fire and experienced several hardships and challenges over the course of our time here. Further details of those things take a lot of extra thought and time to delve into, so as this is more of a textbook sampling of what we've done and where we've been, I will not "go there" for this entry.* My sense of calling has definitely been a constant over these 5 years as I tried out many different things for possible career moves. The Lord's call was strongest towards the end of 2005 when I realized that film wasn't where I felt led anymore. By the beginning of 2006 I had met with Pastor Dottie and the Assistant to the Bishop, Chip Gunsten, and had openly expressed my interest in the seminary discernment process. This coincided with my recent full-time job with VCU, and although I was committed to VCU, I was also allowing the Spirit an "all-access pass" to guiding me where He wanted me to go. In 2007 we continued in dialogue, bible study, prayer and I took many a walk through nearby Hollywood Cemetery over lunch trying to discern the best "career" for me long-term. With my sense of call increasing in volume week after week throughout '06 and '07, I decided I couldn't put off my calling to the ministry any longer. With peace within both of our hearts, I finally applied to Luther Seminary and began the Candidacy process for ministry.
As you know, 2008 is just about half over now, and by the time our 5 year anniversary hits since we moved here (this October), we will both be back in the icy tundra of Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota. It has been an amazing journey here in Richmond - I have grown in just about every possible way, (except for my waist line, which has decreased actually...) Rebecca and I have grown together immensely as husband and wife and the lives we've encountered, befriended and loved have affected us significantly - much more than even a writer like myself can adequately describe! As my quote of the month states - many a world began for us here, and we are changed and improved a hundred times over. Praise God!
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