Living 5 hours from Kerry's parents, 5 hours from my dad, and halfway across the country from many relatives, travel is required to see family members. Because of various circumstances, we tend to be the ones who travel to see others.
Tonight is one of those nights when our family packs the car and when we travel a well-known path with dinner and coffee alone the way.
Our destination: Aberdeen, SD
Our purpose on this trip: Kerry's mom's birthday celebrarion
Travel is great fun and a huge annoyance at the same time. The journey itself can be so great...for the first 3 out of 5 hours. We love hanging out as a family and love having lengthy conversations. The car is a great place for this! However, at some point, we need to take a walk, but we can't; we want to sleep, but at least one of us can't; and we want to use the bathroom, but none are open.
The return journey on Saturday will be just as fun and just as annoying. I will be honest that I am glad that there will be about 40 hours between now and then.
:)
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sorry to Disappoint
Work was long. Lots going on there. But I love my boss, and he makes it easier to go to work every day.
Beth is sick.
I took Beth to the doctor; she has a weird infection thing (mycoplasma) on her right tonsil.
Kerry and I had a premarriage counseling session to do when I returned from the doctor/pharmacy at 8:15 p.m.
And now it is well past my bedtime.
No great insights. Days like this happen.
Tell me about some of your days like this...
Beth is sick.
I took Beth to the doctor; she has a weird infection thing (mycoplasma) on her right tonsil.
Kerry and I had a premarriage counseling session to do when I returned from the doctor/pharmacy at 8:15 p.m.
And now it is well past my bedtime.
No great insights. Days like this happen.
Tell me about some of your days like this...
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Under Constant Construction
[slideshow]
Every day when I drive Beth to school, I pass a construction site in what used to be Brookdale Mall. The other day on my way to and from an appointment, I passed a major construction upheaval of an intersection. For the past few weeks as I have driven through construction on the highways, through the city, and on county roads, I have given a great deal of thought about construction and how it is a perfect metaphor for our lives.
Construction is messy. Ask anyone who drives pretty much anywhere in the summer, and that person would tell you that construction is messy. Ask anyone who works in construction (or their spouse!), and the would tell you that construction is messy.
Our lives are messy. People get sick. People lose their jobs. People are people. Life is life. We make mistakes. We hurt each other. We get covered in the dirt that is life, and it can take an awful lot of cleaning to get rid of the yuckiness (I think I just created that word!) that comes with life.
Construction is inconvenient. It takes a lot more time to get through a construction zone. Wal-Mart isn't open because it isn't ready yet. We have to slow down in a construction zone. We have to watch out for workers so that we do not hurt them.
Our lives have inconvenient times. Other people's lives get in our way. We have to "slow down" from time to time. We have to watch out for other people. Other people's inconveniences become our conveniences.
Construction has a purpose. The Brookdale Mall was destroyed so that something better could replace it. The roads and bridges that are "under construction" need to be replaced or repaired in order for them to be safer or faster. Even though construction can be stalled due to funding or government shut-downs, it usually gets going again because it has a reason.
Our lives have purpose. My huz preached a fabulous sermon (click on "fabulous sermon" to go to a list of his sermons) about the fact that we are all called to several purposes. Siah listed them on his Facebook status, and you can read more on my post from Sunday. I think so often we feel like we are construction zones that are not for a purpose. We can even think that our lives are falling apart or being hit by wrecking balls, and every hit feels like it does not make any sense. But our lives have purpose; there is no doubt. Despair.com, a website that has demotivational posters, says that, "It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others." While we may feel that way at times, we have purpose. The Bible tells me so.
The more construction I undergo, the more I grow. The next time I drive through a construction site, I think that I will thank God that He is the project manager of my life and that I have purposes that He designed me uniquely to complete. This is very comforting when I look at a wrecking ball headed toward me in some metaphorical form.
Every day when I drive Beth to school, I pass a construction site in what used to be Brookdale Mall. The other day on my way to and from an appointment, I passed a major construction upheaval of an intersection. For the past few weeks as I have driven through construction on the highways, through the city, and on county roads, I have given a great deal of thought about construction and how it is a perfect metaphor for our lives.
Construction is messy. Ask anyone who drives pretty much anywhere in the summer, and that person would tell you that construction is messy. Ask anyone who works in construction (or their spouse!), and the would tell you that construction is messy.
Our lives are messy. People get sick. People lose their jobs. People are people. Life is life. We make mistakes. We hurt each other. We get covered in the dirt that is life, and it can take an awful lot of cleaning to get rid of the yuckiness (I think I just created that word!) that comes with life.
Construction is inconvenient. It takes a lot more time to get through a construction zone. Wal-Mart isn't open because it isn't ready yet. We have to slow down in a construction zone. We have to watch out for workers so that we do not hurt them.
Our lives have inconvenient times. Other people's lives get in our way. We have to "slow down" from time to time. We have to watch out for other people. Other people's inconveniences become our conveniences.
Construction has a purpose. The Brookdale Mall was destroyed so that something better could replace it. The roads and bridges that are "under construction" need to be replaced or repaired in order for them to be safer or faster. Even though construction can be stalled due to funding or government shut-downs, it usually gets going again because it has a reason.
Our lives have purpose. My huz preached a fabulous sermon (click on "fabulous sermon" to go to a list of his sermons) about the fact that we are all called to several purposes. Siah listed them on his Facebook status, and you can read more on my post from Sunday. I think so often we feel like we are construction zones that are not for a purpose. We can even think that our lives are falling apart or being hit by wrecking balls, and every hit feels like it does not make any sense. But our lives have purpose; there is no doubt. Despair.com, a website that has demotivational posters, says that, "It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others." While we may feel that way at times, we have purpose. The Bible tells me so.
The more construction I undergo, the more I grow. The next time I drive through a construction site, I think that I will thank God that He is the project manager of my life and that I have purposes that He designed me uniquely to complete. This is very comforting when I look at a wrecking ball headed toward me in some metaphorical form.
Monday, September 26, 2011
A Scarf?!?!?!
I have written in the past month or so about this strange revolution that has started taking place in my life. For the past several years, I have not worn a dress; I now have purchased three dresses in the last six weeks and will wear a dress to the three weddings that will occur in the next few months (yes, another engagement occurred which means a wedding coming up in January). I have given people a hard time in the past for coloring their hair; I had highlights put in my hair this past January...they augment my natural highlights (the grey...or, as I like to call it, SILVER). I have poo-pooed the whole "manicure" thing for years; I now get them on a regular basis.The most recent piece in this revolution is the really cool thing that happened yesterday. I wanted to wear black pants (weird, I know...I never wear black pants to church!) and a black shirt...but wow, can we say "GOTH" with a capital G? Anyway - I thought, "What would Elise do would with this outfit?" If you haven't heard me rave about my cousin-in-love, Elise, check out her blog - Pennyweight - and then like her page (also called Pennyweight) on Facebook. She is a seriously talented fashion lady, photographer, and designer extraordinaire. Since meeting her at her own wedding (a fab event) and at subsequent cousin weddings, she has inspired me to throw away the thought that I will never look good in things I wear and instead find things that look good on me to wear. What a thought, really! Yes - it takes time, and yes - it takes a bit of patience. But, oh so worth it.
Sorry ... I digress ... where was I ... oh, yes ...
I thought, "What would Elise do?" And the answer was obvious...add a scarf! Kerry had purchased three BEE-AY-U-ti-ful scarves when he traveled to Israel last summer; two for me (green and blue...my second and third favorite clothing colors after black!) and one for Beth (an orange). Because this past Friday was the first day of autumn, I thought the orange would be the most appropriate. It was! I felt awesome in it! I felt like a big girl - all dressed up with someone's arm (the huz) to hang on to and somewhere fabulous (church) to go.
It worked so well for me that I wore the almost the exact same outfit to work today - but I changed the scarf and wore the green one. No one complimented me, but that may have been because I pointed it out to them before they had a chance.
I realize that this revolution is strange, and I often look at myself in the mirror and wonder who that person was who thought that sweatpants was better than a pair of dress pants. Honestly - the key is to find the most comfortable dress pants, the most comfortable dress top, a beautiful piece of flare (a scarf or a necklace), and the best pair of dress shoes (more comfortable than my sneakers!). Looking good and being comfortable can go hand in hand. A good pair of jeans with the right pair of shoes and cute top can look as good as a pair of dress pants.
Who am I? Oh yeah...I'm that girl who wants to do a 5K in October. And I embrace her!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Church Clothes or Work Clothes?
I thought that the picture would be great to have around, and then I thought, "Oooo...I could blog about this!" It makes perfect sense that I would as the sermon today was the reason behind Kerry's unusual attire, and his sermon was FAB-U-LOUS! By the way, Kerry's sermons can always be found online within a few days afterward at faithmpls.org. Because Beth and I had a shower to attend last weekend and made a full weekend out of it, I missed the sermon from last week...I still need to listen to it because word on the Faith Baptist street was that the sermon was great. It's hard for me, the true critic, to imagine that it was anything but that...as critical I try to be, I struggle each week because my husband's ability to communicate the Word of God in a way that is passionate, compassionate, humble, understandable, and compelling awes me each week.
My son summed up the sermon well on his Facebook status:
[We are all] called to...
- Rule.
- Bear the image of God.
- Be a blessing.
- ... Teach.
- Proclaim.
- Be a humble agent of change.
- Love.
- Be a doer of good.
- Serve.
The sermon's introduction - the first eight points - provided a full meal before Kerry landed on the main text, Acts 6:1-7, where the church at the time chose seven men to serve and to care for the people. Verse 7 testifies to the fact that, when we serve, the church grows. So interesting to me! I had never thought about what it is that draws us in to some churches and what it is that turns us away from others. The churches that I have attended over the years have been serving churches, but it did not occur to me that this was true until now. The churches that grow tend to be those that focus on caring for those who attend and for others who live in the neighborhood or with whom we work, play, and live. When we serve each other, we want to be together. When we serve our neighbors or co-workers, they want to be with us...and they want to know why we serve them. This is when we can share the Gospel with others.
Kerry wore the clothing that is pictured above as an illustration of what this looks like. Ripped jeans, a paint covered shirt, and worn out work boots are work clothes. He talked about how we often dress for church in clothes that are better than work clothes. He shared about being on the farm and having distinct church clothes that differed immensely from his work clothes. He then challenged us that work clothes are church clothes. The clothes that we wear that allow us to get dirty, do work, and serve are our church clothes!
Basically...just what I needed to hear today...thanks, awesome huz!
Note: in order to get this post to look right, I had to use some critical thinking skills along with a very limited html knowledge. Woot! I feel so smart. :) Now if I could just figure out how to post to Facebook. I swear that Facebook and I are going to be at odds for the rest of its life (I plan to out live the whole social network phase).
Saturday, September 24, 2011
The Huz is a Great Cook!
One of the things that the kids and I notice when he is gone is that our quality of food severely declines. This time around, Kerry actually cooked in advance for us so that we would have enough leftovers to consume in his absence. I am able to cook, but the kids pretty much tell me that we are better off when dad is home.
One of the ways that we know Kerry is home is that we all spent some time in the kitchen tonight. Siah and Beth prepped veggies and added ingredients while Kerry directed traffic and did what he does best - make up recipes as he goes along. As is usually the case, I did other things that keeps me far from ruining food - dishes and laundry.
Tomorrow we will eat beef stew and chicken noodle soup, and I will know that the man is home.
Woohoo!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Finally Friday
I have waited for this day all week. And now, after the waiting, it is here.
Dinner and a movie with the kids. Woot!
Happy me! Happy Friday!
Dinner and a movie with the kids. Woot!
Happy me! Happy Friday!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Facebook: Let Me Think For Myself
After another day of thinking this through, I have decided not to leave Facebook...at least not today. I want to be connected to my friends and family far and near - and Facebook really is a good mechanism for that.
Thanks to several people who have taken the time to find various fixes, I am satisfied enough with the NewsFeed (for today anyway) to brave another day in relationship with this website. I am also thankful that Blackberry has not released an update for Facebook on my phone to coincide with the changes Facebook made. In fact, I may not allow my boiphren, as we affectionately call my phone, to ever update Facebook on my phone. Ever.
At least Blackberry still gives me some say in how I view that part of my life...
I realized why I am he most angry at Facebook (aka "Mark-y" as I now refer to Zucker...berg for whom I am a big sucker); it is because he won't let me think for myself. Like an abusive boyfriend (refer to yesterday's post for more...), Facebook wants to control my view of MY world. He wants to decide who the most important ("top feeds") person is...and he has no place doing that. Control! Control!! Control!!!
Seriously - if I had a friend who let her boyfriend create her world based entirely on his interpretation of HER world, I would drag her to an abuse shelter and hide her from that horrible wretch! If he slapped her in the face (ignoring any market research, Marky...), I would step between them and slap him back.
But we stand for this from a website. Why? Because Facebook, like that abusive boyfriend, has become such a great asset to us SOMETIMES. Facebook will make it up to us - give us MisicBook (as if Pandora and Grooveshark aren't enough...) and remind us how much we need him (all of our contacts are now stored with him). "Come back," he will say to us smoothly. "I really am better than GooglePlus." And he might be! It would be so hard to change boyfriends! We would have to convince our 63 or 2,000 friends to change boyfriends too. For a while, we might have to have two boyfriends - hiding one from the other - until we can finally say goodbye.
I do not like to be a complainer without having answers to the problem, but I feel like my hands are tied. This is SO unhealthy!!! I cannot believe that I, a very rationale woman, cannot break up with Facebook.
Anyone else? What are we going to do? I guess I will just wait to see what he tosses my way next and decide then. That's a great idea, isn't it? Put off today what I can decide tomorrow ... Facebook, you assist me in my nutty self: codependent, indecisive, and now it seems - a procrastinator. I guess you do have a purpose: I can now blame YOU for all of my issues instead of taking responsibility for myself.
Thank you, Facebook. You are a good boyfriend!
Thanks to several people who have taken the time to find various fixes, I am satisfied enough with the NewsFeed (for today anyway) to brave another day in relationship with this website. I am also thankful that Blackberry has not released an update for Facebook on my phone to coincide with the changes Facebook made. In fact, I may not allow my boiphren, as we affectionately call my phone, to ever update Facebook on my phone. Ever.
At least Blackberry still gives me some say in how I view that part of my life...
I realized why I am he most angry at Facebook (aka "Mark-y" as I now refer to Zucker...berg for whom I am a big sucker); it is because he won't let me think for myself. Like an abusive boyfriend (refer to yesterday's post for more...), Facebook wants to control my view of MY world. He wants to decide who the most important ("top feeds") person is...and he has no place doing that. Control! Control!! Control!!!
Seriously - if I had a friend who let her boyfriend create her world based entirely on his interpretation of HER world, I would drag her to an abuse shelter and hide her from that horrible wretch! If he slapped her in the face (ignoring any market research, Marky...), I would step between them and slap him back.
But we stand for this from a website. Why? Because Facebook, like that abusive boyfriend, has become such a great asset to us SOMETIMES. Facebook will make it up to us - give us MisicBook (as if Pandora and Grooveshark aren't enough...) and remind us how much we need him (all of our contacts are now stored with him). "Come back," he will say to us smoothly. "I really am better than GooglePlus." And he might be! It would be so hard to change boyfriends! We would have to convince our 63 or 2,000 friends to change boyfriends too. For a while, we might have to have two boyfriends - hiding one from the other - until we can finally say goodbye.
I do not like to be a complainer without having answers to the problem, but I feel like my hands are tied. This is SO unhealthy!!! I cannot believe that I, a very rationale woman, cannot break up with Facebook.
Anyone else? What are we going to do? I guess I will just wait to see what he tosses my way next and decide then. That's a great idea, isn't it? Put off today what I can decide tomorrow ... Facebook, you assist me in my nutty self: codependent, indecisive, and now it seems - a procrastinator. I guess you do have a purpose: I can now blame YOU for all of my issues instead of taking responsibility for myself.
Thank you, Facebook. You are a good boyfriend!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Dear Facebook...
Dear Facebook (aka - Mark Zuckerberg),
I feel as though it is time for you to hear from one of your abused girlfriends. It is time for you to know what I think of you. I think a lot of us think this way right now.
You used to love me. Back when I was just one of the "college girls" (ok - graduate school...but still!) who signed up for your services, you needed me. I made you who you are. I am one of the many who was loyal to your little "facebook idea" before everyone else loved you.
Then you decided you needed more love. I am fine with the fact that you now let anyone over the age of 13 - and even some who lie about being 13 - be your girlfriends. It didn't bother me when more and more people I know fell in love with you. In fact, I loved it. I was proud to be a part of the "Facebook Nation" - the third most populous nation on this planet.
I loved how you connect us all together, how you bring us together around businesses, causes, events, our joys, and our struggles. Although you do push our co-dependent tendencies at times into unhealth, for the most part you are a great asset to our lives. You wooed me in. You wooed my friends in. We rely on you now.
Just when we thought we could trust you, though, you changed. You changed Facebook. You took away the control that we had over our news feeds, and you decided what we should read and who it should be about. I do not want you to make those decisions for me. I am thirty-seven years old, I had one mother, and I do not need you to tell me how to view the world. You have no right to decide what a "top post" is to me. That is my decision - stay out of it. You might have all of my information stored on your server, but you should not decide what I do with it or how it is used.
What is really funny is that I have given seminars on how educators can use you to increase learning. Wow - I am a sucker for Zucker...berg.
I am angry with you. But what I am the most angry about is that I feel trapped in this relationship. All of my friends are friends with you! What will my life be like without you? How in the world could you do this to me? Don't you remember how important I was to you back when you first started...before you were a "big star"?
And so...for now...I am not deleting my profile or removing my account. But - I probably will spend less of my life getting sucked into the lives of others. Maybe I will email some of them. Maybe I will call the ones that I love the most. Or - quite possibly - I might start seeing some of them in person.
Perhaps I should thank you. Change is good sometimes. This one might be for the better. If I break up with you, I do not think I will regret it.
Sincerely,
Stacy A. Bender, potentially recovering abused girlfriend of Facebook
I feel as though it is time for you to hear from one of your abused girlfriends. It is time for you to know what I think of you. I think a lot of us think this way right now.
You used to love me. Back when I was just one of the "college girls" (ok - graduate school...but still!) who signed up for your services, you needed me. I made you who you are. I am one of the many who was loyal to your little "facebook idea" before everyone else loved you.
Then you decided you needed more love. I am fine with the fact that you now let anyone over the age of 13 - and even some who lie about being 13 - be your girlfriends. It didn't bother me when more and more people I know fell in love with you. In fact, I loved it. I was proud to be a part of the "Facebook Nation" - the third most populous nation on this planet.
I loved how you connect us all together, how you bring us together around businesses, causes, events, our joys, and our struggles. Although you do push our co-dependent tendencies at times into unhealth, for the most part you are a great asset to our lives. You wooed me in. You wooed my friends in. We rely on you now.
Just when we thought we could trust you, though, you changed. You changed Facebook. You took away the control that we had over our news feeds, and you decided what we should read and who it should be about. I do not want you to make those decisions for me. I am thirty-seven years old, I had one mother, and I do not need you to tell me how to view the world. You have no right to decide what a "top post" is to me. That is my decision - stay out of it. You might have all of my information stored on your server, but you should not decide what I do with it or how it is used.
What is really funny is that I have given seminars on how educators can use you to increase learning. Wow - I am a sucker for Zucker...berg.
I am angry with you. But what I am the most angry about is that I feel trapped in this relationship. All of my friends are friends with you! What will my life be like without you? How in the world could you do this to me? Don't you remember how important I was to you back when you first started...before you were a "big star"?
And so...for now...I am not deleting my profile or removing my account. But - I probably will spend less of my life getting sucked into the lives of others. Maybe I will email some of them. Maybe I will call the ones that I love the most. Or - quite possibly - I might start seeing some of them in person.
Perhaps I should thank you. Change is good sometimes. This one might be for the better. If I break up with you, I do not think I will regret it.
Sincerely,
Stacy A. Bender, potentially recovering abused girlfriend of Facebook
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Oh, Snap!
Life is jam-packed full of demands. Not all of them are bad, and I am sure not all of them are good. When I woke up this morning, my body demanded a little movement to get it going for the day. Although I did not listen right away, I did finally make my way to the treadmill at Snap Fitness.
I have to go every day that is left in Septembers so that I earn my gold star...or save my $20. :)
The thing is this: once I am there and hiking along at three miles per hour (what I found is my natural step without the dog along), I am happy to be there and dread the end of the workout.
What is it about going that seems so daunting? I want the health and beauty benefits of going....what is it?
Thoughts?
(Note: this was written while on the treadmill and had a great picture to go along with it; however, the Wordpress app on my phone and I are having a disagreement at present...no picture because I am now too lazy and really just want to go to bed. I have tried making it work all day from my phone. How annoying!)
I have to go every day that is left in Septembers so that I earn my gold star...or save my $20. :)
The thing is this: once I am there and hiking along at three miles per hour (what I found is my natural step without the dog along), I am happy to be there and dread the end of the workout.
What is it about going that seems so daunting? I want the health and beauty benefits of going....what is it?
Thoughts?
(Note: this was written while on the treadmill and had a great picture to go along with it; however, the Wordpress app on my phone and I are having a disagreement at present...no picture because I am now too lazy and really just want to go to bed. I have tried making it work all day from my phone. How annoying!)
Monday, September 19, 2011
Squeezing Out the Last Bit
I have a favorite toothpaste. It is Crest...and then the rest I forgetn but the tube is pictured here. We have had one tube of it left all summer, and all summer I have squeezed out "the last bit" several times.
As I have done this over and over for a few months, I have chastised myself for being cheap - just buy more! I have even accused myself of being forgetful and lazy - just buy more! I did buy more toothpaste, but it was the wrong kind. I do use that more often than my favorite one, but I cannot bring myself to throw away that one tube and stop squeezing out just a bit more.
This toothpaste tube is metaphorical of my life. I never want to give up on a good thing until I have squeezed as much out of it as possible. I want 10 more minutes of reading before I go to bed, one more good song on the radio before I go in to work, or even one more email to a good friend before I close the computer at night.
Today I had to enlist Beth's help in order to get one more last bit out. I had tried unsuccessfully a few times - squeezing up the last bit of toothpaste and then watching it retract as I tried to get it on the toothbrush. My daughter did give me quite a look when I described my request to her. And then she obliged. She's a good kid.
This is also metaphorical of my life! I love bringing others into my crusade of squeezing just a bit more out of life. Let's give this back to the world, let's join this gym, or let's start this new program. It will be fun! Let's squeeze just one more section of time out of this tube of toothpaste...help me do it!
Although this squeezing can exhaust me and those around me, I think it is a great way to live life. While I respect the need for balance and rest in life - and will continue to learn more how to apply this to my own life daily - the idea that "the time is now; the time is here" (Dr Seuss) is one that I wish to live and pass on to my children.
The day is before me...what will I squeeze out of it?
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Shower Buddy!
As someone with a life that puts me into contact with others nearly all waking hours of the day, I truly enjoy the alone time I have in the shower each day.
Many times I have wished to become a morning person so that I could be the first one in the shower in our house as this seems to be the quietest time of the day. Being the second or third person in the shower means that others will come in to brush their hair or brush their teeth. Inevitably, they talk to me when they are in there. I love my family, but a few moments to enjoy the quiet is awesome.
Beth and I have had a great weekend together! We have had many talks and will have more as we drive home this afternoon. When in Grand Forks, we sleep at the Happy Host Inn - my childhood home as my parents bought the motel at the end of my ninth grade year. This morning, Beth awoke first, showered first, and - as usual - went to have motel breakfast.
I looked forward to my quiet shower!
At the end of my shower, however, I discovered that, though my shower was quiet, I had a shower buddy - a spider. I could not pass this up as a blog post! I had gone the entire shower without noticing him (or her) and had assumed that I was alone. I was wrong!
As I snapped the photo, I realized something that this spider reminded me about. Even though I often consider myself to be "alone," I am not ever alone. Because of my faith and knowledge of the spirit of God being around me at all times, I know and believe that I am never alone. In the same way that the spider dis not announce his (or her) presence with me in the shower, God does not announce His presence with me always.
The analogy breaks down, of course, in all of this...out of habit, I squashed the spider with a tissue and flushed the tissue down the toilet.
Neither I, nor anyone, can squash out the presence of God. For that, I am eternally grateful!
Many times I have wished to become a morning person so that I could be the first one in the shower in our house as this seems to be the quietest time of the day. Being the second or third person in the shower means that others will come in to brush their hair or brush their teeth. Inevitably, they talk to me when they are in there. I love my family, but a few moments to enjoy the quiet is awesome.
Beth and I have had a great weekend together! We have had many talks and will have more as we drive home this afternoon. When in Grand Forks, we sleep at the Happy Host Inn - my childhood home as my parents bought the motel at the end of my ninth grade year. This morning, Beth awoke first, showered first, and - as usual - went to have motel breakfast.
I looked forward to my quiet shower!
At the end of my shower, however, I discovered that, though my shower was quiet, I had a shower buddy - a spider. I could not pass this up as a blog post! I had gone the entire shower without noticing him (or her) and had assumed that I was alone. I was wrong!
As I snapped the photo, I realized something that this spider reminded me about. Even though I often consider myself to be "alone," I am not ever alone. Because of my faith and knowledge of the spirit of God being around me at all times, I know and believe that I am never alone. In the same way that the spider dis not announce his (or her) presence with me in the shower, God does not announce His presence with me always.
The analogy breaks down, of course, in all of this...out of habit, I squashed the spider with a tissue and flushed the tissue down the toilet.
Neither I, nor anyone, can squash out the presence of God. For that, I am eternally grateful!
Saturday, September 17, 2011
A Definiton of Success
The doors at JC Penney in Fargo, ND, opened at 9 a.m. today, and Beth and I were there - showered, dressed, and ready to conquer. The job for the 3.5 hrs following our entrance was to find her a perfect dress.
Four major department stores sit one on each corner of "Wasted Acres," as Kerry calls the Fargo mall. Beth and I visited them all today. I could give you my opinion on each of them, but I am blogging on my phone. Thumbs doing the typing tends to make for shorter blog posts.
At 12:27 p.m., after trying on over 20 dresses between the two of us, we purchased the dress pictured along with this post. It is perfect!! It was a clearance rack find: Herberger's - 85% off (originally almost $200). What a deal! And in her size! She looks absolutely stunning in it!
We were successful!! And for today, I am very happy to use this event as a definition for success.
Four major department stores sit one on each corner of "Wasted Acres," as Kerry calls the Fargo mall. Beth and I visited them all today. I could give you my opinion on each of them, but I am blogging on my phone. Thumbs doing the typing tends to make for shorter blog posts.
At 12:27 p.m., after trying on over 20 dresses between the two of us, we purchased the dress pictured along with this post. It is perfect!! It was a clearance rack find: Herberger's - 85% off (originally almost $200). What a deal! And in her size! She looks absolutely stunning in it!
We were successful!! And for today, I am very happy to use this event as a definition for success.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Slowed Mind
Busy days at work make for slower mind at night. It is crowded in there.
Busy life makes one tired. A tired mind can be a slower mind. Sleep is possible.
Not a bad thing...and so far the family is doing just fine with it and most of the things at home are getting done.
This is a good thing.
Busy life makes one tired. A tired mind can be a slower mind. Sleep is possible.
Not a bad thing...and so far the family is doing just fine with it and most of the things at home are getting done.
This is a good thing.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"I Wish My Dad Would Take Me Out to Breakfast"
The amazing huz took the girl out for breakfast today.
This is yet another thing that I love about my family. Kerry has a standing commitment to a group of men for breakfast on Wednesday mornings. Last night, as we discussed which of us would take Beth to school this morning, somehow the idea of Kerry and Beth going to breakfast en route came up. Within minutes, Kerry had informed the men that he had a date with his daughter and Siah had agreed to walk the dog so that Beth could sleep a bit longer in the morning. In order to make it to school on time and get in breakfast, they needed to leave at 6:45.
This is something that we do regularly with our children. Spending time alone with each of the kids is as important as spending time with them and as an entire family. Conversations happen one on one that would not happen otherwise. Beth and I are spending time together the entire weekend; these drives are highly entertaining as well as informative - for both of us.
At some point, the kids have realized that this time is important as well. In addition, they seek it with us. It was Beth's idea to have breakfast with Kerry this morning. She wants to spend time with Kerry. Although she and I have a purpose for going out of town together, it was her idea to spend an extra night and do extra fun things together. She wants to spend time with me. Siah could have joined us on the trip, but he wanted to have a weekend alone with Kerry. Amazing!
When Beth shared with her friends today at school that she had breakfast with her dad this morning, they responded,"I wish that I could have breakfast with my dad!"
Her friends do not mean that they want to eat with their parents. They want to spend time with their parents. As much as they say that they do not, they do. Their parents need to take their kids out to breakfast and give them some space to talk, ask questions, and know that their parents care. I work with parents every day who claim to care about their kids. I do not doubt that they mean what they say, but their kids might doubt it if their parents never show them by giving them some time.
It is not about the food that is consumed at breakfast. The breakfast is simply the vehicle of spending time together. We do not have to be rich to parent well; we do, however, need to prioritize. When I do not prioritize my children and give them the space that they need and deserve, I do not parent well.
To quote Edith Ann of Rowin and Martin's "Laugh In:" And that's the truth. *pththththsst*
This is yet another thing that I love about my family. Kerry has a standing commitment to a group of men for breakfast on Wednesday mornings. Last night, as we discussed which of us would take Beth to school this morning, somehow the idea of Kerry and Beth going to breakfast en route came up. Within minutes, Kerry had informed the men that he had a date with his daughter and Siah had agreed to walk the dog so that Beth could sleep a bit longer in the morning. In order to make it to school on time and get in breakfast, they needed to leave at 6:45.
This is something that we do regularly with our children. Spending time alone with each of the kids is as important as spending time with them and as an entire family. Conversations happen one on one that would not happen otherwise. Beth and I are spending time together the entire weekend; these drives are highly entertaining as well as informative - for both of us.
At some point, the kids have realized that this time is important as well. In addition, they seek it with us. It was Beth's idea to have breakfast with Kerry this morning. She wants to spend time with Kerry. Although she and I have a purpose for going out of town together, it was her idea to spend an extra night and do extra fun things together. She wants to spend time with me. Siah could have joined us on the trip, but he wanted to have a weekend alone with Kerry. Amazing!
When Beth shared with her friends today at school that she had breakfast with her dad this morning, they responded,"I wish that I could have breakfast with my dad!"
Her friends do not mean that they want to eat with their parents. They want to spend time with their parents. As much as they say that they do not, they do. Their parents need to take their kids out to breakfast and give them some space to talk, ask questions, and know that their parents care. I work with parents every day who claim to care about their kids. I do not doubt that they mean what they say, but their kids might doubt it if their parents never show them by giving them some time.
It is not about the food that is consumed at breakfast. The breakfast is simply the vehicle of spending time together. We do not have to be rich to parent well; we do, however, need to prioritize. When I do not prioritize my children and give them the space that they need and deserve, I do not parent well.
To quote Edith Ann of Rowin and Martin's "Laugh In:" And that's the truth. *pththththsst*
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Random Conversations from Today
In the car: I have had a really great day. I woke in time to take my awesome daughter to school. Let me rephrase that, I jumped out of bed in time to brush my teeth and change undergarments five minutes before Beth drove herself to school with me in the passenger seat. I have no idea what we talked about on the way to school, but I know that it was awesome because Beth is awesome.
At the grocery store: I thanked the woman checking me out for working so early because I loved Cub at 8:10 a.m. much better than at 5:30 p.m. I think she thought I had lost it, but I actually meant it. Maybe she has never been to the grocery store at 5:30 p.m.? I doubt it. I sure would not if I worked at the grocery store. Oh - that would be a disaster, by the way. I would buy too much, I would eat too much food, and my budget would be a bust. I also think that I would talk too much to customers, and they would possibly find that creepy. I already talk to them when I am just standing in line, and I think that many of them find that creepy...I just do not want to miss an opportunity to be nice. I am especially fond of elderly woman who are shorter than I...they remind me of my Grandma Lois. I adore her.
Did you track that conversation? Grocery store - eat too much - disaster - creepy - adore Grandma Lois. I do not have a problem with other people interrupting me; I do that plenty well on my own, thank you very much!
On the phone with a co-worker this morning: I think I may have used the fact that I know this person outside of work to do a socially unacceptable (and potentially rude - please do comment about this!) thing. As I was talking to her, I drove to the local "corner store" because I forgot to buy an onion at the grocery store for the crockpot meal that I made for supper tonight. I looked for the onion and talked, but the conversation did not end before I needed to pay. So...I asked to wait while I paid. Is that bad? The funny thing? When I went rummaging through the refrigerator later in the morning looking for something else...I found half of a LARGE onion which would have substituted well for the small onion that I had bought. Oh well.
On the conference call with co-workers in Oklahoma: These are very polite Southern men who start most conversations with me in the following way, "What is today's high going to be?" I think I sort of rubbed it in when I told them. I also have this really bad habit of picking up accents. Whenever I come back from the East Coast, Kerry makes me say certain words so that he can grin at my newly acquired accent. I noticed that, after an hour of conversation with these men, I had quite an affinity to saying y'all (seriously - is it ya'll or y'all? I ask that question on Facebook at least once a quarter!). Oops.
When I interrupted a meeting that my boss was having: I really thought that my boss and another co-worker were sort of shooting the breeze. They are two of the four men in my office of 18 people. Yes - that means 14 women fight for the bathroom key. Yes - we have to use a key for the bathroom. Oh, did I mention that the men's room is keyed to the office doors in the office suite. Nice, right? Anyway - I thought they were having a casual conversation as I had clearly misread my boss's nonverbals through his window. When I rounded his doorway, I discovered they were in a serious conversaion - with the regional director of customer relations, the "big wig" in our office suite. My comment? "Sorry - didn't mean to interrupt a meeting of the minds?" What did that mean? And what did they think it meant? What did I mean by it? Wow - awesome, awkward recovery at that awesome interruption.
At the dinner table with the kids because the pastor is at a meeting tonight: I cannot recount some of this because Beth would have to scold me. Know, dear readers, that you are missing out on things from this conversation. Also know that Beth did threaten to go to her room to get away from some of the conversation. Eventually, though, Siah and I were discussing how to state something exactly how we meant it. I stated that there should be comma between the two adjectives. It was not my fault that he could not see the comma in his head as I spoke the words. Rather than assume that I spoke incorrectly, he should assume that there was a comma there. That then led to Siah and I discussed having our own radio talk show based on a concept similar to the NPR show called Car Talk where listeners get car advice with excellent commentary. Our show would discuss grammar while giving each other, our callers, and any potential guests we may have on the show a hard time. And we would interrupt ourselves a lot. It would be a lot of fun, and I think a lot of people would listen mostly for our commentary. The side benefit: While people recount how "these crazy people" talked about grammar on the radio, the world of listeners and their friends would virally learn why we use a comma in a series or why we say, "She is taller than I." Oh, the blessings we could all reap.
When I think about the day, it went really well. I made some great connections with others. And I laughed. Mostly at myself.
At the grocery store: I thanked the woman checking me out for working so early because I loved Cub at 8:10 a.m. much better than at 5:30 p.m. I think she thought I had lost it, but I actually meant it. Maybe she has never been to the grocery store at 5:30 p.m.? I doubt it. I sure would not if I worked at the grocery store. Oh - that would be a disaster, by the way. I would buy too much, I would eat too much food, and my budget would be a bust. I also think that I would talk too much to customers, and they would possibly find that creepy. I already talk to them when I am just standing in line, and I think that many of them find that creepy...I just do not want to miss an opportunity to be nice. I am especially fond of elderly woman who are shorter than I...they remind me of my Grandma Lois. I adore her.
Did you track that conversation? Grocery store - eat too much - disaster - creepy - adore Grandma Lois. I do not have a problem with other people interrupting me; I do that plenty well on my own, thank you very much!
On the phone with a co-worker this morning: I think I may have used the fact that I know this person outside of work to do a socially unacceptable (and potentially rude - please do comment about this!) thing. As I was talking to her, I drove to the local "corner store" because I forgot to buy an onion at the grocery store for the crockpot meal that I made for supper tonight. I looked for the onion and talked, but the conversation did not end before I needed to pay. So...I asked to wait while I paid. Is that bad? The funny thing? When I went rummaging through the refrigerator later in the morning looking for something else...I found half of a LARGE onion which would have substituted well for the small onion that I had bought. Oh well.
On the conference call with co-workers in Oklahoma: These are very polite Southern men who start most conversations with me in the following way, "What is today's high going to be?" I think I sort of rubbed it in when I told them. I also have this really bad habit of picking up accents. Whenever I come back from the East Coast, Kerry makes me say certain words so that he can grin at my newly acquired accent. I noticed that, after an hour of conversation with these men, I had quite an affinity to saying y'all (seriously - is it ya'll or y'all? I ask that question on Facebook at least once a quarter!). Oops.
When I interrupted a meeting that my boss was having: I really thought that my boss and another co-worker were sort of shooting the breeze. They are two of the four men in my office of 18 people. Yes - that means 14 women fight for the bathroom key. Yes - we have to use a key for the bathroom. Oh, did I mention that the men's room is keyed to the office doors in the office suite. Nice, right? Anyway - I thought they were having a casual conversation as I had clearly misread my boss's nonverbals through his window. When I rounded his doorway, I discovered they were in a serious conversaion - with the regional director of customer relations, the "big wig" in our office suite. My comment? "Sorry - didn't mean to interrupt a meeting of the minds?" What did that mean? And what did they think it meant? What did I mean by it? Wow - awesome, awkward recovery at that awesome interruption.
At the dinner table with the kids because the pastor is at a meeting tonight: I cannot recount some of this because Beth would have to scold me. Know, dear readers, that you are missing out on things from this conversation. Also know that Beth did threaten to go to her room to get away from some of the conversation. Eventually, though, Siah and I were discussing how to state something exactly how we meant it. I stated that there should be comma between the two adjectives. It was not my fault that he could not see the comma in his head as I spoke the words. Rather than assume that I spoke incorrectly, he should assume that there was a comma there. That then led to Siah and I discussed having our own radio talk show based on a concept similar to the NPR show called Car Talk where listeners get car advice with excellent commentary. Our show would discuss grammar while giving each other, our callers, and any potential guests we may have on the show a hard time. And we would interrupt ourselves a lot. It would be a lot of fun, and I think a lot of people would listen mostly for our commentary. The side benefit: While people recount how "these crazy people" talked about grammar on the radio, the world of listeners and their friends would virally learn why we use a comma in a series or why we say, "She is taller than I." Oh, the blessings we could all reap.
When I think about the day, it went really well. I made some great connections with others. And I laughed. Mostly at myself.
Monday, September 12, 2011
The Best Family
After a long day at work, the doctor's office, the dentist office, and a trip to the pharmacy, I returned home shortly after 7 p.m. As I drove into the garage wondering why the door was up, I realized that Beth and Kerry were in the backyard doing yard work. I walked into the house to an immaculate kitchen except for the food cooking on the stove. When I walked into the living room, I noticed a massive difference from when I had left this morning. It no longer looked like we had all arrived home from camp last week followed by a week of wedding, block party, Sunday School picnic, and Jacob's Well festivities.
I kissed my husband and thanked him.
Last week at work, someone asked me what makes my family one that I look forward to seeing every night (apparently, I talk a lot about how great they are).
My family is the best because we do everything together. We eat together, we work together, and we play together. Everything gets done for the day for all, and then we can all be together. Mind you, I don't do my kids' homework for them, and they do not go to court in my place. But we do as much as we can for each other so that we can do as much as we can with each other.
And because of that, I am signing off...so that I can spend a bit more time with them before it is time for me to sleep.
I kissed my husband and thanked him.
Last week at work, someone asked me what makes my family one that I look forward to seeing every night (apparently, I talk a lot about how great they are).
My family is the best because we do everything together. We eat together, we work together, and we play together. Everything gets done for the day for all, and then we can all be together. Mind you, I don't do my kids' homework for them, and they do not go to court in my place. But we do as much as we can for each other so that we can do as much as we can with each other.
And because of that, I am signing off...so that I can spend a bit more time with them before it is time for me to sleep.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Where Were You?
September Eleventh.
I doubt there is any way that someone could not know what today is and what today commemorates. Between the news headlines and the Facebook updates about today, everyone has to be aware of the date and the event that occurred ten years ago.
I think that the Facebook post that caused me to think the most was from a high school friend. Her son asked her, "What are we supposed to do on 9/11?" Her answer was great, "The best answer I could think of was remember and pray."
Remember.
I remember the day clearly.
Our family had moved to Scotland for a year of study, travel, and fun in August 2011. What an adventure! The kids, Kerry, and I dragged eight suitcases and four backpacks from the Minneapolis airport, through Atlanta and Paris airports, and landed in Edinburgh. Within hours of touching down "across the pond," we hand unpacked most of our belongings, Kerry had settled in for a nap, and I had gone to the pay phone on the corner to call home to report that we had arrived safely. After those phone calls, I made the phone calls to set up phone and internet service in our flat so that we could be connected to the rest of the world. I do not think more than a few hours passed before BT (presumably British Telephone) had shortened the distance between us and family to only a phone call away.
A week or two later, we had integrated well into Scottish life. The kids went to school at Stockbridge Primary School. Kerry attended classes in the divinity school at the University of Edinburgh. And I kept busy working at Starbucks and at a bookstore known then as James Thin while I worked on getting my Scottish teaching license. We spoke almost daily to our parents back in the states thanks to long distance rates of less than three cents a minute.
Because we spoke with our families so often, it did not surprise us on Septemeber 11, 2001, when the phone rang around 3:30 in the afternoon as the kids and I returned from their school. I can still hear my mom's voice as she said that they were ok, and I can still remember my confusion about what she meant. As I listened to her tell me what she knew, I jumped online and discovered that the world had changed with a plane crashing into the Twin Towers.
I worked at the bookstore two nights a week, and I was scheduled to work that evening. Even though Kerry and I were shocked by the events, it seemed far away - distant. I did not even think twice about going to work that evening. I walked to work and noticed that the streets of New Town, usually busy with walkers and bus riders, had an eery feeling to it. No one was about.
I arrived at the bookstore and found my co-workers standing around a radio as they listened to the BBC recount the Flight 93 crash. My co-workers were stunned by the events of the day and were even more surprised to see me. They had assumed that I would not come to work. We spent the next few hours mindlessly tending a shop that had no customers. I think we may have closed early.
My boss at the bookstore recounted how he had stopped at the pub for a pint on the way to work an hour before our shift. He saw scene of the plane that crashed into the Twin Towers and asked the bartender what American film they were showing on the "telly." When they told that it was the news, he was shocked. The entire United Kingdom seemed to have the same reaction: If it can happen on US soil, there is nowhere that is safe anymore.
Pray.
We need to remembering the attacks, we need to remember those who died in the attacks, and we need to remember the heroic acts of those who saved lives whether by pulling people out of rubble or by downing a plane in Pennsylvania. However, we also need to remember that terrorism, war, and conflict stem from the human condition of sin. The events of September 11, 2001, are - no doubt - horrible; however, as we remember them, we need to check our hearts and be sure that the emotions we feel stir us into an action that can have the most impact on our world: Prayer.
We need to pray for change in our world, and we need to be prepared to be the answer to that prayer. If we do not pray, our remembering is worthless. If we are not willing to be the answer to that prayer, our prayers are meaningless. We can stand by and look at memorials, but remembering is pointless if it does not stir us to be better or to do better.
Ten years have past since the towers came down, how has prayer impacted our world in those ten years? How will prayer change our lives in the next ten years?
I doubt there is any way that someone could not know what today is and what today commemorates. Between the news headlines and the Facebook updates about today, everyone has to be aware of the date and the event that occurred ten years ago.
I think that the Facebook post that caused me to think the most was from a high school friend. Her son asked her, "What are we supposed to do on 9/11?" Her answer was great, "The best answer I could think of was remember and pray."
Remember.
I remember the day clearly.
Our family had moved to Scotland for a year of study, travel, and fun in August 2011. What an adventure! The kids, Kerry, and I dragged eight suitcases and four backpacks from the Minneapolis airport, through Atlanta and Paris airports, and landed in Edinburgh. Within hours of touching down "across the pond," we hand unpacked most of our belongings, Kerry had settled in for a nap, and I had gone to the pay phone on the corner to call home to report that we had arrived safely. After those phone calls, I made the phone calls to set up phone and internet service in our flat so that we could be connected to the rest of the world. I do not think more than a few hours passed before BT (presumably British Telephone) had shortened the distance between us and family to only a phone call away.
A week or two later, we had integrated well into Scottish life. The kids went to school at Stockbridge Primary School. Kerry attended classes in the divinity school at the University of Edinburgh. And I kept busy working at Starbucks and at a bookstore known then as James Thin while I worked on getting my Scottish teaching license. We spoke almost daily to our parents back in the states thanks to long distance rates of less than three cents a minute.
Because we spoke with our families so often, it did not surprise us on Septemeber 11, 2001, when the phone rang around 3:30 in the afternoon as the kids and I returned from their school. I can still hear my mom's voice as she said that they were ok, and I can still remember my confusion about what she meant. As I listened to her tell me what she knew, I jumped online and discovered that the world had changed with a plane crashing into the Twin Towers.
I worked at the bookstore two nights a week, and I was scheduled to work that evening. Even though Kerry and I were shocked by the events, it seemed far away - distant. I did not even think twice about going to work that evening. I walked to work and noticed that the streets of New Town, usually busy with walkers and bus riders, had an eery feeling to it. No one was about.
I arrived at the bookstore and found my co-workers standing around a radio as they listened to the BBC recount the Flight 93 crash. My co-workers were stunned by the events of the day and were even more surprised to see me. They had assumed that I would not come to work. We spent the next few hours mindlessly tending a shop that had no customers. I think we may have closed early.
My boss at the bookstore recounted how he had stopped at the pub for a pint on the way to work an hour before our shift. He saw scene of the plane that crashed into the Twin Towers and asked the bartender what American film they were showing on the "telly." When they told that it was the news, he was shocked. The entire United Kingdom seemed to have the same reaction: If it can happen on US soil, there is nowhere that is safe anymore.
Pray.
We need to remembering the attacks, we need to remember those who died in the attacks, and we need to remember the heroic acts of those who saved lives whether by pulling people out of rubble or by downing a plane in Pennsylvania. However, we also need to remember that terrorism, war, and conflict stem from the human condition of sin. The events of September 11, 2001, are - no doubt - horrible; however, as we remember them, we need to check our hearts and be sure that the emotions we feel stir us into an action that can have the most impact on our world: Prayer.
We need to pray for change in our world, and we need to be prepared to be the answer to that prayer. If we do not pray, our remembering is worthless. If we are not willing to be the answer to that prayer, our prayers are meaningless. We can stand by and look at memorials, but remembering is pointless if it does not stir us to be better or to do better.
Ten years have past since the towers came down, how has prayer impacted our world in those ten years? How will prayer change our lives in the next ten years?
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Public Displays of Affection
Last night was fabulous. Thanks to pain medication, it met all of my expectations to be able to twirl and enjoy myself. We saw many people that we love, had our picture taken in the photo booth, and had wonderful cake pops as our "wedding cake." These are super cool; I am especially a fan of the white cake encapsulated by the white chocolate. I am paying for it a bit today, and I did not even get out of bed until after one in the afternoon. This allowed me just a wee bit of time to prepare for Faith Baptist Church's Block Party - another great event that is now over for the year. I am a bit sad.At last night's reception, the tapping of the glasses obligating the bride and the groom to kiss started the minute they entered the reception hall. I think it may have been my husband who loudly began this moment. After Joel and Amy had kissed, one of the groomsmen announced that there would be more kissing happening than just Joel and Amy. Every time the glasses were tapped, someone in the wedding party would pull a couple's name. This couple would then come to the front, "show Joel and Amy how to do it," and then they would attempt to duplicate the kiss. I think this may have actually increased the number of times that the glasses were tapped, but it is a fun way to keep guests entertained.
Several couples had the chance to do this, and I started to get antsy. I love to kiss my husband! There was a period of time when my Facebook profile picture had so many pictures of the two of us kissing that I started having wall comments about it. Fortunately no one had taken "our move" before our names were drawn. Because Joel and Amy were close to our table at the time that our names were drawn, we kissed near our table. That, apparently, was not right, so we had to move closer to the wedding party's table and redo our kiss. I am not complaining.We had an excellent time last night, and we wish the new Korkki couple a lifetime of happiness!
Friday, September 9, 2011
Step Up and Stand Up
This commitment to blogging daily is hard to do!!
I am blogging on my phone which will explain frequent paragraph breaks. Kerry and I currently are in the car en route from one of my husband's best sermons ever (and a beautiful wedding! Happy Day, Joel and Amy!!) to one of my most anticipated wedding dances ever (because I am wearing a great dress!!).
It is not uncommon for my husband to state in his wedding sermons that a marriage is an illustration of Christ's love for the Church; however, the way in which he incorporated this image into a charge to the wedding party was unique, exciting, and profound. It was, in essence, a charge to all in the congregation as we support and pray for Amy and Joel in their marriage.
He said to the women that, though they could listen to Amy when she struggles with marriage issues, it is their responsibility to step up and to stand up for Amy's marriage by firmly directing Amy back to Joel. He also said that we could expect Amy to demonstrate love to Joel in the same way that the Church loves Christ.
He told the men a similar thing saying, "In Joel's case, you might need to kick him in the pants." He said that we should expect Joel to demonstrate love to Amy in the same way that Christ loves the Church.
As a young girl who grew up in the aftermath of my biological parents' divorce, I wonder how life can be different for those who view marriage in this way.
As a woman who strives to be a wife in a marriage centered on this idea, I know that it can be different. It is also amazing that our close family and friends hold us accountable to creating a marriage which illustrates the relationship between Christ and the Church.
After sixteen years of marriage, I can honestly say that I know better what this means than I did on our own wedding day. This is, in part, to my privilege of having a pastor for a husband who preaches frequent wedding sermons. However, the fact that our church community, family, and friends encourage us to be better together than we were apart is a huge part as well.
Though today we celebrate the wedding of two dear friends, Kerry and I also celebrate our own marriage and the many people who are a part of keeping it together every day.
Thanks, y'all.
I am blogging on my phone which will explain frequent paragraph breaks. Kerry and I currently are in the car en route from one of my husband's best sermons ever (and a beautiful wedding! Happy Day, Joel and Amy!!) to one of my most anticipated wedding dances ever (because I am wearing a great dress!!).
It is not uncommon for my husband to state in his wedding sermons that a marriage is an illustration of Christ's love for the Church; however, the way in which he incorporated this image into a charge to the wedding party was unique, exciting, and profound. It was, in essence, a charge to all in the congregation as we support and pray for Amy and Joel in their marriage.
He said to the women that, though they could listen to Amy when she struggles with marriage issues, it is their responsibility to step up and to stand up for Amy's marriage by firmly directing Amy back to Joel. He also said that we could expect Amy to demonstrate love to Joel in the same way that the Church loves Christ.
He told the men a similar thing saying, "In Joel's case, you might need to kick him in the pants." He said that we should expect Joel to demonstrate love to Amy in the same way that Christ loves the Church.
As a young girl who grew up in the aftermath of my biological parents' divorce, I wonder how life can be different for those who view marriage in this way.
As a woman who strives to be a wife in a marriage centered on this idea, I know that it can be different. It is also amazing that our close family and friends hold us accountable to creating a marriage which illustrates the relationship between Christ and the Church.
After sixteen years of marriage, I can honestly say that I know better what this means than I did on our own wedding day. This is, in part, to my privilege of having a pastor for a husband who preaches frequent wedding sermons. However, the fact that our church community, family, and friends encourage us to be better together than we were apart is a huge part as well.
Though today we celebrate the wedding of two dear friends, Kerry and I also celebrate our own marriage and the many people who are a part of keeping it together every day.
Thanks, y'all.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
I Want to Twirl!
Tomorrow is a big day in the life of two very dear people - the future Mr and Mrs Korkki. As excited as I am for them, I have also been looking forward to this day for a very selfish reason - I have a beautiful dress that I can't wait to wear.
This is wedding number two in the fall of many weddings. When I realized how close together these weddings were and how many of the same people would be at three of them, I went on a search for the perfect outfits.
One day completely on a whim, I tried on a dress. And it fit! And it looked good! Or rather - I looked good in it!
Another day, also on a whim, I tried on another dress. And I looked good in that one!
Purchase number two is the fancier of the two purchases, but it is also the more fun of the two. I plan to wear it tomorrow night.
And I hope to twirl!
Fears: Part 1
Every day when I post my blog for the day, Wordpress suggests three topics for the next post. About every other day, without fail, one of the topics has to do with fear. Fear of....and fill in the blank.
For a nearly exhaustive (or is it exhausting) list of phobias, see the website phobialist.com. The website lists the fears in alphabetical order by phobia name, and it does a great job of showing how many fears there are in the world; my guess is that the list will simply continue to grow as time goes on.
In my experience, fear tends to come in one of two forms - fear based on experience or irrational fear that has no real foundation but is nonetheless just as intense. I do not find that one is more "real" than the other nor do I find that one is more incapacitating than the other. What I find to be true of all fear is that the emotional response to fear comes before the truth of the fear. Our intuition speaks to us far before the reality of the situation is clear.
For a nearly exhaustive (or is it exhausting) list of phobias, see the website phobialist.com. The website lists the fears in alphabetical order by phobia name, and it does a great job of showing how many fears there are in the world; my guess is that the list will simply continue to grow as time goes on.
In my experience, fear tends to come in one of two forms - fear based on experience or irrational fear that has no real foundation but is nonetheless just as intense. I do not find that one is more "real" than the other nor do I find that one is more incapacitating than the other. What I find to be true of all fear is that the emotional response to fear comes before the truth of the fear. Our intuition speaks to us far before the reality of the situation is clear.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Changing Seasons
Fall has arrived in Minnesota.
I know this because my windows are open, and I can breath the crisp air rather than feel smothered by humid air. I know this because my daughter went to school today and because my son is sitting at the dining room table doing his schoolwork. I know this because this coming Saturday is the Faith Baptist Block Party.
Summer has flown past me in a blur of trips to camp, the absence of my children, and an attempt to get my life in order before fall arrived. While I feel successful in many parts of that attempt, there is much left to pull together. Having my back go out only two weeks after the triumphant completion of my first 5K is leaving me discourage. I want to continue down the path of better health, and this feels like a setback.
Winter in Minnesota comes with a fury anytime between October and January. Because of its unpredictable nature in both its arrival and its departure, winter weighs on us like no other season. While many of us love winter sports, eventually even the fun of winter can get long if winter comes too early and stays too long like it did last year.
With its late arrival in 2011, I'm not even sure if spring had a chance to say,"Hello!" to us.
Perhaps it is true that Minnesota only has two seasons - shoveling and road construction.
Just like the seasons in Minnesota change without much notice, predictability, or continuity, seasons in my life seem to change without my permission. One day my children were little, but today they are not. One day I was in my twenties, and now I seem to march quickly toward my forties. With each day that passes, only one thing seems to be certain: I am not ready for all of these changes.
Perhaps this is a perfect sign of a control freak: I don't mind changes as long as I am in control of them. What happens to me rather than by me is what throws me off. I am content to change the arrangement of my furniture in my house when I choose to do it, but when a friend rearranges her house - I am lost and thrown off.
And now I have more to ponder...
I know this because my windows are open, and I can breath the crisp air rather than feel smothered by humid air. I know this because my daughter went to school today and because my son is sitting at the dining room table doing his schoolwork. I know this because this coming Saturday is the Faith Baptist Block Party.
Summer has flown past me in a blur of trips to camp, the absence of my children, and an attempt to get my life in order before fall arrived. While I feel successful in many parts of that attempt, there is much left to pull together. Having my back go out only two weeks after the triumphant completion of my first 5K is leaving me discourage. I want to continue down the path of better health, and this feels like a setback.
Winter in Minnesota comes with a fury anytime between October and January. Because of its unpredictable nature in both its arrival and its departure, winter weighs on us like no other season. While many of us love winter sports, eventually even the fun of winter can get long if winter comes too early and stays too long like it did last year.
With its late arrival in 2011, I'm not even sure if spring had a chance to say,"Hello!" to us.
Perhaps it is true that Minnesota only has two seasons - shoveling and road construction.
Just like the seasons in Minnesota change without much notice, predictability, or continuity, seasons in my life seem to change without my permission. One day my children were little, but today they are not. One day I was in my twenties, and now I seem to march quickly toward my forties. With each day that passes, only one thing seems to be certain: I am not ready for all of these changes.
Perhaps this is a perfect sign of a control freak: I don't mind changes as long as I am in control of them. What happens to me rather than by me is what throws me off. I am content to change the arrangement of my furniture in my house when I choose to do it, but when a friend rearranges her house - I am lost and thrown off.
And now I have more to ponder...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
School...Schedule...Schary
Scary
I meant scary.
Today was the first day of school for Siah; tomorrow will be the first day of school for Beth. I came home from work today, and Siah handed me his debate meet schedule and his cross country meet schedule. I have now entered all of these items into the Google calendar, and Gmail has sent me the confirmations that Siah plans to attend all of the items that I invited him to attend.
I am having a hard time not feeling overwhelmed by this. In fact, my neck and back hurt worse now that I have entered all of these items into the calendar. My weekend schedule from now until mid-January is filled with debate, weddings, and more debate.
Tomorrow Beth will return home with information about musical tryouts next week, Chamber Singer tryouts, and more. Once she gets into the musical and other groups, there will be schedules for those as well. I will enter those into the calendar, and my neck and back will likely tense up then as well.
I think that I was so looking forward to the kids coming home from a summer at camp that I forgot that, when they are home, their schedules are chaotic.
This is not a bad thing.
I love that my kids are involved, successful, and wonderful. They fill my life with great things. Those great things need to be coordinated and scheduled. This should not cause me distress, but today apparently it has. I think what is causing me the most issue is that there was little time to transition from, "Kids @ Camp" to, "Wow - the kids have a lot on the schedule!"
I will sleep on this and start over again tomorrow...bright and early when I drop off Beth for her first day of school. In the meantime, I will consider taking a hot bath and a rub down of my back and neck with something menthol-ish to soothe the tense muscles.
I am pretty sure that moms all over Minnesota are going through the same routine.
I meant scary.
Today was the first day of school for Siah; tomorrow will be the first day of school for Beth. I came home from work today, and Siah handed me his debate meet schedule and his cross country meet schedule. I have now entered all of these items into the Google calendar, and Gmail has sent me the confirmations that Siah plans to attend all of the items that I invited him to attend.
I am having a hard time not feeling overwhelmed by this. In fact, my neck and back hurt worse now that I have entered all of these items into the calendar. My weekend schedule from now until mid-January is filled with debate, weddings, and more debate.
Tomorrow Beth will return home with information about musical tryouts next week, Chamber Singer tryouts, and more. Once she gets into the musical and other groups, there will be schedules for those as well. I will enter those into the calendar, and my neck and back will likely tense up then as well.
I think that I was so looking forward to the kids coming home from a summer at camp that I forgot that, when they are home, their schedules are chaotic.
This is not a bad thing.
I love that my kids are involved, successful, and wonderful. They fill my life with great things. Those great things need to be coordinated and scheduled. This should not cause me distress, but today apparently it has. I think what is causing me the most issue is that there was little time to transition from, "Kids @ Camp" to, "Wow - the kids have a lot on the schedule!"
I will sleep on this and start over again tomorrow...bright and early when I drop off Beth for her first day of school. In the meantime, I will consider taking a hot bath and a rub down of my back and neck with something menthol-ish to soothe the tense muscles.
I am pretty sure that moms all over Minnesota are going through the same routine.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Writer's Block
Today was a full day. We returned home from Village Creek, unpacked, started laundry, and ate dinner. As the day went on, like many days, things happened that made me think, "I should blog about that." It is 8:55 p.m., and I have yet to blog today. Nothing has really hit me; nothing really seems blog-able.
This would happen to me. I started this blog as a way to catch my thoughts, draw them out of me, and capture the racing mind. Now that I have committed to a blog a day, I find it hard sometimes to actually do the blogging. I feel like I have writer's block - that inability to get anything down on paper...let alone anything meaningful. Most of the time when "writer's block" is used it refers to the inability of a writer to further the plot. What would happen to a character next or what a character would do next - that is writer's block. Simply lacking the ability to write anything is also writer's block, I suppose.
Perhaps it is the pain medication...
Whatever the problem is, staring at the screen will not fix it. And at this time of night I doubt that I will come back out to my computer for round two. In order to fulfill the "requirement" that I have set up for myself, I will just hit the button to publish this and hope that tomorrow has more inspiration for me.
One thing can be said about this blog: it will keep track of the ebb and flow of my mind racing. Today's blog will have less than 300 words while others have been as high as 1200. I think that there is a causal relationship to be discovered, but I'm not up for that tonight.
This would happen to me. I started this blog as a way to catch my thoughts, draw them out of me, and capture the racing mind. Now that I have committed to a blog a day, I find it hard sometimes to actually do the blogging. I feel like I have writer's block - that inability to get anything down on paper...let alone anything meaningful. Most of the time when "writer's block" is used it refers to the inability of a writer to further the plot. What would happen to a character next or what a character would do next - that is writer's block. Simply lacking the ability to write anything is also writer's block, I suppose.
Perhaps it is the pain medication...
Whatever the problem is, staring at the screen will not fix it. And at this time of night I doubt that I will come back out to my computer for round two. In order to fulfill the "requirement" that I have set up for myself, I will just hit the button to publish this and hope that tomorrow has more inspiration for me.
One thing can be said about this blog: it will keep track of the ebb and flow of my mind racing. Today's blog will have less than 300 words while others have been as high as 1200. I think that there is a causal relationship to be discovered, but I'm not up for that tonight.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Rest Therapy
I have found myself in a new season - one in which I care for my body's needs, one in which I listen to the cues my body gives me, and one in which I forgo the fun of the moment in order to have fun later.
I have not always been this way. I tend to be an "all in" kind of gal. I play hard, I work hard, and then...well, I crash hard. This kind of cycle is not good for anyone's body nor is it good for those around me. I may be fun for a while, but when the monster turns because I have not had enough sleep, not taken care of myself, or not listened to those cues - I am ugly.
My children claim to notice a significant difference in me since I have started taking better care of myself. They prefer a more balanced approach to life. At first, creating this balance was difficult because it seemed unusual for me to go to bed earlier than the rest of the family, strange for me to leave a project unfinished, and odd for me live proactively instead of reactively.
This morning, Kerry gave the Sunday morning message not at our home church but at Labor Day Family Camp. His topic was the Sabbath and the rest that we should find in Christ. I found it interesting that a few hours later I was contemplating whether to spend the afternoon in conversation with the gang or to listen to my body and let it rest for a few hours. According to one camp staff person, the evening's activities warranted that most of us should all plan a nap.
I tried to stay up this afternoon. I wanted to hang out and talk. But as I sat outside, I could feel my body begging me for rest. I had plenty of sleep last night; that was not the problem. I have done well going to bed at a reasonable hour so that I could get enough sleep. The problem is that with pain comes extra work for our bodies, and my back is still giving me trouble despite the excellent massage yesterday and a wonderful hour long bath this morning.
I chose rest. I doubted that I would fall asleep, but I did. Even if I had not, though, the rest would have been therapeutic. To relieve my body of any pressure from standing, sitting, or going from standing to sitting was necessary so that it could rejuvenate and prepare for the evening ahead.
Rest was created for us to enjoy and for our bodies to heal. When my body asks to rest, I need to listen to it. Regardless of what needs to be done or of what fun I forgo, rest is primary. I am not alone in this as our bodies were created this way.
Rest...
I have not always been this way. I tend to be an "all in" kind of gal. I play hard, I work hard, and then...well, I crash hard. This kind of cycle is not good for anyone's body nor is it good for those around me. I may be fun for a while, but when the monster turns because I have not had enough sleep, not taken care of myself, or not listened to those cues - I am ugly.
My children claim to notice a significant difference in me since I have started taking better care of myself. They prefer a more balanced approach to life. At first, creating this balance was difficult because it seemed unusual for me to go to bed earlier than the rest of the family, strange for me to leave a project unfinished, and odd for me live proactively instead of reactively.
This morning, Kerry gave the Sunday morning message not at our home church but at Labor Day Family Camp. His topic was the Sabbath and the rest that we should find in Christ. I found it interesting that a few hours later I was contemplating whether to spend the afternoon in conversation with the gang or to listen to my body and let it rest for a few hours. According to one camp staff person, the evening's activities warranted that most of us should all plan a nap.
I tried to stay up this afternoon. I wanted to hang out and talk. But as I sat outside, I could feel my body begging me for rest. I had plenty of sleep last night; that was not the problem. I have done well going to bed at a reasonable hour so that I could get enough sleep. The problem is that with pain comes extra work for our bodies, and my back is still giving me trouble despite the excellent massage yesterday and a wonderful hour long bath this morning.
I chose rest. I doubted that I would fall asleep, but I did. Even if I had not, though, the rest would have been therapeutic. To relieve my body of any pressure from standing, sitting, or going from standing to sitting was necessary so that it could rejuvenate and prepare for the evening ahead.
Rest was created for us to enjoy and for our bodies to heal. When my body asks to rest, I need to listen to it. Regardless of what needs to be done or of what fun I forgo, rest is primary. I am not alone in this as our bodies were created this way.
Rest...
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Healing Hands
On Thursday morning, I awoke with severe back pain. I struggled to get out of bed, to use the bathroom, and to put on my clothes. With a trip to camp only hours away, I decided that I should go to the doctor. The doctor checked out my back, prescribed some pain killers, and suggested that I see a chiropractor. A few hours later, I saw the chiropractor who prescribed several more sessions of slow moving therapy. He was not impressed with my plans to ride in a car for four hours within the hour.
I do not recall most of yesterday. It is honestly a blur created by pain medication and the fog that accompanies it. I do know that I was in pain. Even sleeping was a struggle.
This morning one of the camp employees asked my husband if there was anything she could for him. His response was, "Yeah - fix my wife so she can enjoy the rest of the weekend." When I saw her a few minutes later, she offered to call a friend who is a massage therapist. Soon afterwards, I had a confirmed appointment.
I drove thirty minutes to the home of the massage therapist. She was in the middle of canning and preparing for a large group of people for dinner. When I had arrived in the driveway, I was filled with doubt. My back hurt so much that I could not imagine that relief could be on the way.
An hour later, I left the therapist's home with a range of motion that I had not had since Wednesday. With exacting movements, she had released whatever was locked inside of me and had worked in relief. At no time during the massage did I feel pain. I also did not realize that pain was leaving me. But when I sat up from the table and set my feet on the ground, I felt better than when I had crawled onto the bed an hour before.
I have been to massage therapists in the past, and I always leave feeling better than when I had arrived. Touch alone is an amazing tool. Touch guided by the knowledge of massage therapy school is even better. This particular massage therapist combines knowledge with an intuition that I have never before experienced.
I am grateful for her healing hands.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Labor Day: Traditions
When Kerry and I moved to Minneapolis, MN, in fall of 2002, the directors at Village Creek Bible Camp asked if he would be the speaker for Labor Day family camp at the end of the following summer. This weekend marks our ninth consecutive year and Kerry's ninth consecutive year as the speaker.
I think after nine years, this is a tradition.
A tradition is something that you do because you always have done it. Since moving to Minnesota, we have spent every Labor Day at Village Creek with pretty much the same group of people. Family camp is one of the best thinks that has ever happened. Families stay in cabins as a unit, so they can spend quality time together. There are activities that can be done as families. One of the best aspects of this camp is the family assistant who assists families with their kids. This year, both of our own kids are family assistants - not for us, though.
The great thing about this tradition is that we love it!
What is your Labor Day tradition?
I think after nine years, this is a tradition.
A tradition is something that you do because you always have done it. Since moving to Minnesota, we have spent every Labor Day at Village Creek with pretty much the same group of people. Family camp is one of the best thinks that has ever happened. Families stay in cabins as a unit, so they can spend quality time together. There are activities that can be done as families. One of the best aspects of this camp is the family assistant who assists families with their kids. This year, both of our own kids are family assistants - not for us, though.
The great thing about this tradition is that we love it!
What is your Labor Day tradition?
Thursday, September 1, 2011
BFF: The Huz
In response to a friend's comment (Marilyn of the blog "Communicating Across Boundaries") on yesterday's blog post(Me? Hit On?), I plan to reflect a bit. In yesterday's post, I wrote about an experience at the end of which I called my husband. He was the first person I called. I did not text anyone else first.
I just called Kerry.
That is what I tend to do.
Marilyn's comment on the post referred to the fact that my huz was the first I called and stated, "we live in an age where that doesn’t necessarily happen." As she said, it is worth reflection.
Kerry and I met at Crystal Spring Baptist Camp formally during the summer following ninth grade in the shallow end of the lake. Crystal Springs sits in the middle of nowhere within sight of I-94 west of Jamestown and east of Bismarck. The closest town with a laundromat is Medina which is about fifteen minutes away. At time that we went there, the bathrooms were crude, and the cabins were not air-conditioned. The lake did not have boats or blobs - just a platform within a decent swimming distance from which kids jumped into the lake. The activities building had air conditioning, but it could not keep up with North Dakota summer humidity.
The camp, honestly, had little to do. This is not a criticism as the camp was a spiritual formation playground for some of today's college professors, pastors, and missionaries. I could name several off the top of my head. And if someone is not in vocational ministry, he or she is likely in casual ministry either providing leadership in a church or simply in ministry in the tent-making sense.
Kerry and I had many of the same camp friends, so we knew each other by name. We had attended camp with each other for several summers and had attended some youth retreats together. Some of my best camp friends were from small towns in North and South Dakota much like Kerry was. Having little to do meant that we built relationships, discussed theology, and shared lives with each other. For many of us, camp was a vacation from the "real world." Our camp friends were our true friends. High school sucked. Camp did not. The relationships that I built there have lasted longer than any others.
Back to the lake...
We were both in the shallow end because we did not want to be in the deep end - he because he could not swim and I because I did not want to lose my contacts. By the way, my husband received an "A" in college swim class. He is not afraid of the water; he just lacked childhood exposure to water. It is not for lack of effort that the man cannot swim! However, to this day, he would sink to the bottom of any lake without a life preserver. Thankfully, this was the case in ninth grade. If not, we may never have met.
The lake conversation became the first of many conversations. I liked him because he was smart, funny, and considerate. There was little to guess about Kerry Lee Bender. If I asked, he would tell me. Back then, people wrote letters, so we wrote letters. Long letters. We shared life with each other. We wrote about our current romantic interests (if you can call them that!), our joys, our struggles, and the heart break when the romantic interests ended.
We did have a little falling out after Christmas of our senior year...it was my fault. I'm not going to elaborate on that right now. The letters ended. We went off to college - different colleges. I missed him, but I was too proud to tell him what had really happened.
It turns out he had missed me too.
I returned from Thanksgiving break during my freshman year of college, and, for the first time in nearly eleven months, I had a letter waiting for me. The rest is history.
We started dating for real, I changed colleges, and we married at the end of our junior year in college. We have been married now for over sixteen years. We can talk for hours. We argue intensely. And we make up always.
If someone would ask me who my best friend is, I would tell them that it is Kerry without hesitation. Although I still need girls as friends and have several, I would rather spend my night with Kerry than at just about any girl function one could name. Although I have close friends and mentors, few of them know me as well as my husband. He truly understands most of me, and what he doesn't - well, at least he tries to understand and accepts me without conditions. While others may be able to consider what might be best for me, he more than likely knows what is best for me.
I am not idealistic about my husband. I realize that he is human, that he has his own shortcomings and issues, and that he is as fallible as the next. As happens, he has let me down, has criticized when he should have encouraged, and has made mistakes. It goes without saying that this happens and that we have had to talk through things, said our apologies, and planned for the time the issue comes around.
At the end of the day, though, I know that he is on my side. There is no Kerry's team or Stacy's team in this relationship. We are on the same team, and that is reassuring to say the least.
There have been times that I have distanced myself from him, but that is something that we have come to realize happens. It usually happens when I want to be in control or think I can handle something or just want to be independent. After I crash into some wall of my own making, he is there to pick me up and to pick up the pieces of whatever devastation I have created. He protects me from the harms of the world and, most importantly, from myself.
When I think of what makes a best friend, I think of no words - just a person - and that person is my husband. He embodies the concept of my bff and always will because that is just how it is.
I love the song, "Forget Me Not" by the Civil Wars. Take a listen and then read the lyrics below:
I've been awaiting for you
And you've been awaiting for me
Tell me that you'll always be true
And you'll be the only one for me
Forget me not my dear, my darling
Forget me not my love
I just wanna hold your hand
Hang on every word you say
Let's write a song for us
And sing until we're old and grey
Forget me not my dear, my darling
Forget me not my love
I'm coming home real soon
Please leave a light on for me
Tell me that you'll always be true
And you'll be the only one for me
Yes, you'll be the only one for me
I imagine that some day, when we are old and grey, we will look back on the "hit on" incident and laugh about it.
I just called Kerry.
That is what I tend to do.
Marilyn's comment on the post referred to the fact that my huz was the first I called and stated, "we live in an age where that doesn’t necessarily happen." As she said, it is worth reflection.
Kerry and I met at Crystal Spring Baptist Camp formally during the summer following ninth grade in the shallow end of the lake. Crystal Springs sits in the middle of nowhere within sight of I-94 west of Jamestown and east of Bismarck. The closest town with a laundromat is Medina which is about fifteen minutes away. At time that we went there, the bathrooms were crude, and the cabins were not air-conditioned. The lake did not have boats or blobs - just a platform within a decent swimming distance from which kids jumped into the lake. The activities building had air conditioning, but it could not keep up with North Dakota summer humidity.
The camp, honestly, had little to do. This is not a criticism as the camp was a spiritual formation playground for some of today's college professors, pastors, and missionaries. I could name several off the top of my head. And if someone is not in vocational ministry, he or she is likely in casual ministry either providing leadership in a church or simply in ministry in the tent-making sense.
Kerry and I had many of the same camp friends, so we knew each other by name. We had attended camp with each other for several summers and had attended some youth retreats together. Some of my best camp friends were from small towns in North and South Dakota much like Kerry was. Having little to do meant that we built relationships, discussed theology, and shared lives with each other. For many of us, camp was a vacation from the "real world." Our camp friends were our true friends. High school sucked. Camp did not. The relationships that I built there have lasted longer than any others.
Back to the lake...
We were both in the shallow end because we did not want to be in the deep end - he because he could not swim and I because I did not want to lose my contacts. By the way, my husband received an "A" in college swim class. He is not afraid of the water; he just lacked childhood exposure to water. It is not for lack of effort that the man cannot swim! However, to this day, he would sink to the bottom of any lake without a life preserver. Thankfully, this was the case in ninth grade. If not, we may never have met.
The lake conversation became the first of many conversations. I liked him because he was smart, funny, and considerate. There was little to guess about Kerry Lee Bender. If I asked, he would tell me. Back then, people wrote letters, so we wrote letters. Long letters. We shared life with each other. We wrote about our current romantic interests (if you can call them that!), our joys, our struggles, and the heart break when the romantic interests ended.
We did have a little falling out after Christmas of our senior year...it was my fault. I'm not going to elaborate on that right now. The letters ended. We went off to college - different colleges. I missed him, but I was too proud to tell him what had really happened.
It turns out he had missed me too.
I returned from Thanksgiving break during my freshman year of college, and, for the first time in nearly eleven months, I had a letter waiting for me. The rest is history.
We started dating for real, I changed colleges, and we married at the end of our junior year in college. We have been married now for over sixteen years. We can talk for hours. We argue intensely. And we make up always.
If someone would ask me who my best friend is, I would tell them that it is Kerry without hesitation. Although I still need girls as friends and have several, I would rather spend my night with Kerry than at just about any girl function one could name. Although I have close friends and mentors, few of them know me as well as my husband. He truly understands most of me, and what he doesn't - well, at least he tries to understand and accepts me without conditions. While others may be able to consider what might be best for me, he more than likely knows what is best for me.
I am not idealistic about my husband. I realize that he is human, that he has his own shortcomings and issues, and that he is as fallible as the next. As happens, he has let me down, has criticized when he should have encouraged, and has made mistakes. It goes without saying that this happens and that we have had to talk through things, said our apologies, and planned for the time the issue comes around.
At the end of the day, though, I know that he is on my side. There is no Kerry's team or Stacy's team in this relationship. We are on the same team, and that is reassuring to say the least.
There have been times that I have distanced myself from him, but that is something that we have come to realize happens. It usually happens when I want to be in control or think I can handle something or just want to be independent. After I crash into some wall of my own making, he is there to pick me up and to pick up the pieces of whatever devastation I have created. He protects me from the harms of the world and, most importantly, from myself.
When I think of what makes a best friend, I think of no words - just a person - and that person is my husband. He embodies the concept of my bff and always will because that is just how it is.
I love the song, "Forget Me Not" by the Civil Wars. Take a listen and then read the lyrics below:
I've been awaiting for you
And you've been awaiting for me
Tell me that you'll always be true
And you'll be the only one for me
Forget me not my dear, my darling
Forget me not my love
I just wanna hold your hand
Hang on every word you say
Let's write a song for us
And sing until we're old and grey
Forget me not my dear, my darling
Forget me not my love
I'm coming home real soon
Please leave a light on for me
Tell me that you'll always be true
And you'll be the only one for me
Yes, you'll be the only one for me
I imagine that some day, when we are old and grey, we will look back on the "hit on" incident and laugh about it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)