I'm Swamped

Okay, so I keep promising to write. And, I intend to. As we all know, though, the road to Hell was paved with good intentions. I'm not making any promises. I just wanted to let you know I have no idea what to write about on here right now. However, I do have ideas for my other blog Ever Wonder, so if you'd like, feel free to read there for a while. If and when I figure this blog out again, and my time management, I'll pop over for some posts.

Thank you for your time and patience!

Back to School

I am now in Denver and in my third week of grad school. I don't think I can put into words the rollercoaster of emotions and stresses each day. I can swing from not worried to panicked in about 5 minutes and these can be about readings, classes, exams, money, dinner, the puppies, who knows what. It's just been insane.

Part of my About Me

What seems like a long time ago, I had an awful nickname. While that nickname was only with me for a few years, the way it made me feel summarized my whole childhood in one full swoop. I felt as though I never belonged any where because we moved so often. Even when we didn't move often, the long stays were in small towns that I would never be a 'native.' Unfortunately for those who did accept me for who I was, I always had that underlying nagging of the not belonging.

When I graduated high school I had an opportunity. I was going to a new school in a new state. No one can be "from" the college, so all students are at the same starting block. No one knew my nickname. No one knew my history. I had a clean slate handed to me at a school that didn't have any other students from my hometown. After one year of school my parents moved again. With that I did something I will never fully recover from.

I walked away from my hometown.

Almost a decade later I've begun the process of reestablishing contact with those who meant the most to me in middle and high school. I'm realizing that getting completely wrapped up in the bubble called college I neglected some relationships that didn't deserve to be ignored. I didn't fight with these friends. I didn't even say good bye. I just stopped communicating with all of them. I didn't visit because my parents and sisters were across the country. I just disappeared, and I didn't mind until now.

I hope to keep pursuing these old friends and the friendships we once had. I hope that a hello here and there will instigate further conversations. Maybe we can catch up. Maybe a new relationship will flourish between to the new people we are today. I'm not confident, but I am persistant. I'm also sorry. I wonder if those who meant the most realize that. And, I hope someday they give me a chance to tell them face to face.

Have you neglected a relationship beyond repair? Did you ever work to fix it? Did who you were in the past buy you a second chance today or ruin it?

About Me

"About Me" sections of websites have a tendency to invoke different responses in people. I think it is rare to find an "About Me" section not tainted with arrogance, self-deprecation or filtered, 'politically correct' answers. Too often too much thought is put into the audience and not the subject. Typically, I think writing does the exact opposite, but in the case of the "About Me," it requires focus on self - pure, true, honest, ugly and beautiful all at the same time.

I choose the route of denial and avoidance. I try to not fill them out, or I put something cryptic and challenging forcing responsibility onto the audience instead of myself. If not left blank, they almost always include a "ask me if you want to know more." When in reality, the word more is inaccurate because I probably told them nothing.

In it's most raw form, I think the "About Me" should be a not a sampling of personality traits but a honest and even slice of your life and psyche to the core of who you are. Metaphorically, imagine you as a pie and the piece you choose to share cuts from the edge all the way to the center. How wide the slice is, now that is where you should get to tweak based on your comfort with who you see in the mirror and who you share that with.

I think I'm going to start with my own private "About Me." Something crystal clear and something I can slowly cut away at until I have something thin enough for public viewing without being tainted with what I want people to see, what people want to read, what we all create in our sugar-coated minds lying to ourselves and each other.

How about your "About Me"s? Do you sign up for blogs, social networks, forums and other profiles jotting down who you want to be known as instead of who you are? Does it matter, or do we expect to read white lies and colorful embellishments when reading who a person is?

And, the Grinch's Heart Grew 3 Times Larger

Just short of two years ago, I chaperoned a youth mission trip to Kentucky. This was not only my first mission trip ever, but it was my first time meeting many, if not all, of the youth. This group is from my family's church in Michigan not a church locally that I attend.

On the final day during morning devotionals, each person there - leaders, chaperones and youth alike - shared the "light of their week." Many discussed the people they helped and/or their vast feats at improving the living environments for so many people. My light was the youth working as God's hands. To this day I am amazed at how dedicated and loving they were while working under conditions of sleep deprivation, heat, humidity, distractions and excitement, constant interactions with friends and the mothering and fathering of us chaperones. Often it was the youth driving the work forward and refusing to head back for the night to prepare for the next day. Often it was the youth bonding with those we were helping and drawing smiles from faces who had seen harder times than many of us can imagine. It was the youth following God's will and showing his love that shown so brightly for me that week.

This week I chaperoned another trip with this group here in Chicago. For weeks I have been excited in anticipation to see the youth I had worked with before. I rarely see them, and now was my chance to catch up and get to know eachother all over again. In the end the week was more than I could have imagined. In addition to those I had come to love just a couple years before, I met more of their friends and group members. It was as if I understood the pain and joy the Grinch felt when his heart grew that much larger so quickly.

This week I watched young men and women dedicate their time, energy and love for a week. They ate the food at the shelter without complaint. They worked on projects that put them outside of their comfort zone. They slept in a building with only one room with air conditioning and the others with little air circulation at all. They worked with children and their reading, they cleaned homes and thrift shops, they built cabinets and dry-walled. These youth only wanted to do more than they already were doing. Most simply put, they left things better than they found them. And all the while, my heart burst with love and pride for every one of them.

Tonight I'm back home. While I sit here missing each and every one of them, I think about where each of them are headed. Some are in middle school, others high school and the rest are headed to college this fall. With my own impending move to Denver, I know I'll see them even less than I have these past two years. I pray they continue their relationships with Jesus. I pray that they remember they have each other. I pray they know they are loved and that this was not just a "mountaintop experience."

And, I think back over the week and realize...once again they are my light of the week. Through each and every one of them I saw Jesus this week more clearly than ever. Thank you, Lord, for such a brilliantly bright and loving week.

What an incredible week

Hello, World.

Oh, where to begin. I'm not sure many know this, but I don't do well on my own. I figure it's my parents' fault for having so many kids, throwing me in day care and then, there's the whole public schooling thing. People were always around. Well, this week my sister is up to her usual shenanigans with work and her boyfriend. And, Susan is off on vacation with her family. That leaves me home at night alone with the puppies. This adds up to a minimal level of productivity and too long on the computer wasting time until it's bedtime. It makes for a long week, but I'm coping.

Then, there is the fact that I think we found an apartment out in Denver. I've been working with the Leasing Office this week to get the applications squared away. That's the good news. The bad news is that I'm totally freaking out about how much stuff I have. I think I'm going to have to kick it up on a notch on the sorting and giving to charity.

Finally, the great news. (I've been building up for the excitement. Did you notice?) Long, long ago when email addresses weren't common and 8th Graders were intimidating, my family moved from Richland Center, WI to Sparta, WI (62 whole miles). I was in the 7th grade; we had lived in Richland Center for 5 years. That was the longest I had lived anywhere. Well, I thought the world was ending. Surprisingly, it didn't. I did lose touch though with a lot of good people and friends. A few relationships stretched out over snail mail, but eventually we all drifted apart. This week though, thanks to the glories of the internet and Facebook, I have found a few of those childhood friends. And, I am tickled pink about it! I don't know how hard it is to rekindle friendships from over half a life ago (I still struggle with those just from high school at times), but I'm sure going to try. Today I've just been grinning thinking of these girls and how they impacted who I am today.

It has been a good week. It hasn't been easy, but it has been good. Now, I should do something productive and not on the computer. Anyone up for coming and cleaning a lil' with me?

Boy, am I old

Today my sister, Christine, started her band trip to Walt Disney World. It has me thinking back to my trip to New York City way back when. I've found that recently joining Facebook has me thinking back a lot too. The only conclusion I've come to consistently when remembering way back when is that I'm old! It doesn't matter how I look at it; I've been out of high school for almost a decade. I am forever old. How sad is that? Too bad I don't feel old. :-) How old were you when you realized you were old?

High School Graduation

I blame my parents. Then again, who doesn't? I'm confident that if I were to sit in therapy every week eventually the therapist would come to the same conclusion. I repeat, who doesn't blame their parents? When you truly ponder 'Nature versus Nurture,' it's a little complicated blaming your DNA.

My parents were married young. We moved a lot. Or, at least as a kid it seemed like a lot. I know when compared to army brats, it just doesn't compare. I think part of the reason we moved a lot is because my mother had been an army brat. The other reason was my father. Now, I have the same syndrome. Let me further explain...

Note: (Unfortunately I've learned these are most definitely necessary) This posting is not to offend anyone. This posting is my independent thoughts, opinions and emotions. Remember what I first said, " I blame my parents."

My father grew up in Small Town America, WI. This community is a gathering of families, roots, dreams and hard times. Many leave, many stay and over time some will return or leave again. Small Town America nurtures the idea of bigger and better things while growing it's vines around your heart strings.

Okay, maybe this is too metaphorical. Let's jump back into my story...

We moved a lot. It was all within a few hundred miles of my father's hometown. Eventually we settled in the community my father was born was in and lived until around the 2nd Grade. We were there for 5 years. That was the longest I lived in one place. When we left, which you should figured was happening next, I thought I'd never recover. It didn't help that it was the middle of 7th Grade. Does anyone else agree that Middle School is the absolute worst?

Guess where we moved. If you remember my Small Town America metaphors, you should be able to make a good guess...my father's hometown - the one he moved to in 2nd Grade and graduated high school. He lived there long enough to feel connected (the vines), yet he had seen the world outside. Yes, it was only a few formidable years, but don't forget our original argument for nature not nurture. I believe he wanted to see more. I believe something was just different in him than those who had grown up there their whole lives.

My high school graduation. I cried. I sobbed. I couldn't control the emotion bursting from me. I think deep down inside I knew that was the passing of an era for me. I was leaving and perhaps never coming back. And, in a sense I never have. I've visited family and friends there, but no one, nothing really held too tight. I've been okay with that. I considered it a past chapter, and I've been moving on. I moved right through college, through post-college employment and living and now onto grad school and new city and state. But change and it's pleasantness is rearing a more ugly head.

Wow, this is becoming a long post.

So, here we are nine years later, and I'm going back. I wouldn't think this trip is any different, but it is. I joined Facebook. Not only am I 'reconnecting' with people, but I've posted my semi-current picture on it. The long brown hair isn't quite as misleading as it had been for the previous few years. I've also exposed myself to the many posts of this person going home for Small Town Fest and that person and the next person and what seems like a million more.

High school graduation...mine was wrong. I'm going back. I'll be facing a whole lot of my past in one fell swoop. And, my urge, my father's urge, to leave is irrelevant. I wonder then...what was I crying so hard about?

Tell Me You're Kidding...

A few weeks ago I was catching up with some friends. We were discussing our latest endeavors. My good friend -- well best friend but when I say it like that I feel like I'm on the playground making declarations, -- Susan, was telling everyone about how she's going to go back to school for library science. Yes, that means when she grows up she wants to be a librarian. She says it's because of her love and appreciation for books and knowledge. I think it has something to do with telling kids to be quiet and stop running. We're off topic. When a couple of people snickered at her aspirations, she deflected by telling them to ask me my plans. Well, my plans are to move to Denver, Colorado this fall. I'm going to go to school at Iliff School of Theology for a Masters of Divinity. Ultimately, I want to become an ordained minister in the United Methodist Church. One of our friends turned to me with what can only be described as horror in her eyes and said, "tell me you're kidding."

I'm not.

I have a lot of beliefs, morals and value structures. Most I'm sure I share with many other people. Some, I'm just as confident don't line up with as many people. At the end of the day though, I've always been this person. I'd like to expand more on my beliefs, morals and value structures in my other blog. Maybe sometimes they'll overflow here. But, that's not what this blog is for. On the other hand, I want each and every person I've ever known to know that I'm not leaving who I am for another person.

I know there are a lot of people out there with different religious views from me. I know that denominations aside, there are agnostics and atheists out there. I'm friends with a number of them. I'm not going to the dark side by becoming a minister. I'm not becoming closed-minded and an elitist by becoming a minister. I'm following what I believe to be a calling. As Martin Luther King Jr said, "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." My next step is school. I think ordainment will follow, but I'm open to other options as well.

In the end I want to assure people that I will still be me. If nothing else I hope to gain a stronger faith as my knowledge of the bible and religion increases. Perhaps some day we can talk about religion. Perhaps we never will. I'm okay with whatever you're most comfortable. If you have questions or concerns about this endeavor, talk to me about it. I'm cool with apprehension; trust me, I'm full of it all the time.

No matter what, I'm not kidding.

What to write about...

I don't post on here any more. I'm not sure why not. I think part of it is, I don't know what to write. I think another part is that I don't think any one reads this. I know I don't have time to maintain driving traffic here. Maybe I should go back to my original goal...writing for me. :) How profound!

Life is good. Life is complex and difficult. I think that says enough for now. I think this blog has gotten complicated because people I know have the web address. I thought that's what I wanted initially. Now I'm not so sure. Perhaps I should use it in the more general sense to track what I'm doing day to day. That is something to consider.

Right now I'm addicted to Facebook. I just signed up. I'm not exactly sure what the appeal is. I've refused MySpace, Facebook and so forth up til now. Christine convinced me that because I've been accepted back to school, that Facebook is acceptable. I think it's a little twisted and trendy. Trendy is not usually my thing. We'll see.