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!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)