22 going on 23

Each Valentine's day, my mother would buy me and my brother a small gift.  Usually it was a toy or trinket or something of the like.  As a child, I always loved to read.  I always checked out my limit of 4 books at the library and returned and exchanged them as soon as possible.  One Valentine's day, I walked down the stairs to see our gifts sitting on that white and yellow speckled kitchen counter.  Brad's toy?  A G.I. Joe.  My gift was a book.  A lowsy book.  Now, why I thought my gift was lousy? I don't know... I loved to read and this was a perfectly appropriate gift for me.  I put up a huge fuss!!  My mother was so offended that she never got us a gift for Valentine's day (other than a sweet or two) after that.  My mom always bought me the best gifts, and sent the most thoughtful lcards, and most of the time I never appreciated them.  

Today, the day before my 23rd birthday, I am sitting in the Columbus airport, heading to Chicago.  I am flying away from my family, and all but one of my best friends.  Birthdays were always important to us Barrett's and I have chosen (though not quite so willingly) to spend this birthday away from the people that I most want to be with.  I am going to a setting in which no one will know that it is my birthday.  I am feeling apprehensive, and a bit lonely already, just sitting in the airport.  

Who knows what tomorrow will bring... another year to my age? certainly.  A bit of sadness that I won't ever get a card or gift from my mom?  Most likely.  Loneliness because I'm not spending my first birthday married with my husband?  Yeah.  Will I live through it all?  Yes.  

23, here I come... 

Have you had your poem for the day?

It happened every Friday.  At first, I thought it was strange that a professor would take the time to read poetry to his students in an introduction to Christianity class.  Some Fridays I wandered in to the classroom wondering what the poem would be, but most Fridays I dragged myself in and tried with everything I had to stay awake (many times I failed...).  But I always knew that Fridays would start with a poem.  By the end of the quarter, I looked forward to those first few moments of class to just sit back and enjoy a poem.  Some of the poems were about God, but most weren't.  Those who knew Wayne knew his love for seeing God in creation, so many poems were about the creation which most of the college students tended to ignore.  The poems also showed Wayne's incredible amount of love for his lovely wife, Fern.  Many poems were spent read with Wayne trying to conceal a grin that the thought of his wife always gave him.  

As more of my friends took the class, got to know Wayne-o, or both, we all looked forward to the occasions that he would read poetry.  Many other classes that occurred in the chapel were put on hold on Friday mornings as the fans of Friday poems crowded into the classroom for the minutes that the poems were shared.  Other professors may have been frustrated at the delay of the start of their class, but sometimes they joined us in listening to the Friday poem.  

Wayne became a role model to many in my circle of friends.  For the guys who got to know Wayne through Sigma Theta Epsilon, he was a brother.  To those whom he advised, he was a mentor.  To those who ever shared a meal or conversation with, he was a friend.  To those who attended his church, he was a minister.  For many, he was all of these things and more.  One unique role he and his wife shared was a model for a healthy marriage.  Wayne and Fern were so in love with one another, and it permeated all aspects of their lives.  

When it came time for my husband and I to get married, I knew that this man had to be a part of our day.  I asked him very simply to bless the meal at our reception, but what he chose blessed us so much more.  Very true to Wayne's character, he read a poem as a blessing of our marriage.  I could hardly contain my emotions.  I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or do both at the same time.  It was the perfect addition to an exciting day.  The day came and went, as did the night, and my new husband and I sat opening presents with our families.  We came to a small gift, and immediately I knew it was a book.  We opened the gift and it was Garrison Keillor's Good Poems. It had to be from the Wayne and Fern.  I opened the book, and there was Wayne's familiar handwriting... it suggested a poem to start with and a poem to end with.  I wished at that moment that I could just cuddle up in the new quilt (from Garrett's great-aunt) with my new husband and read poems.  Arriving at our honeymoon destination, we had an evening to relax and just be.  I took Good Poems out of my carry-on bag and shared page 173 with my husband.  I don't even know if he remembers... but it was a time I treasured.  We (my husband and I) are at a point where we are seeking more connection with each other.  The honeymoon (and the 7-ish months following it) is over and we're settling in to life with one another.  The thing is that neither of us want to "settle in."  We are both seeking way to allow our love to grow and evolve each new day.  

A few days ago, I was having a conversation with a friend of mine, and he asked me how I was.  I told him that I felt my life was too shallow.  I didn't know that I would be faced with that feeling again less than a week after our conversation.  I woke up this morning, and just feel the urge to be more primitive.  I had no desire at all to watch the morning news or turn on my computer.  Even looking at the clock made me feel too technological.  I knew that I need some time with poetry to settle my mind and my soul.  I lounged for a bit (with a big glass of milk... my new favorite morning beverage to savor) with Good Poems and just took in the words.  Poem after poem I read and with each stanza I felt a little more peace within me.  

I knew this was a small part of a solution to our marriage desires.  We want to grow closer and to find ways to recreate that honeymoon moment and just "be."  We hope to now share poetry together, each Friday morning, like all the Friday's mornings previous.  

blog fluff

1. I am very self-conscious about my hands. The reason I paint my nails dark most of the time is that it makes me feel as though my hands look more slender and feminine. 

2. I feel less intelligent than my husband because he can sit and watch the history channel for hours and it bores me to sleep in a matter of minutes. 

3. I have a knack for catching people picking their noses. Be on guard when you think no one is looking!!! 

4. I don't believe in horoscopes and signs and all that jazz EXCEPT for the fact that pisces have a thing for feet. For me, I like to have things between my toes... especially when I sleep. I usually have the blanket between my big and second toes. 

5. I don't like to say that my mom "passed on" or "when to be with Jesus" or any of those other phrases. She's dead. The word "dead" is not offensive for me to hear or say. It's honest, which is how she taught me to live. 

6. I frequently cut/save coupons, but never remember to take them to the store with me. 

7. My favorite TV show is Sex and the City. One of my pet peeves is when people call it Sex in the City. 

8. When I have cravings, they are either for banana Laffy Taffy or dill pickles (especially Nathan's Pickles). 

9. I have not regretted gauging my ears once since I've done it. People keep telling me that I will, but I don't think I ever will. 

10. I keep a shot glass in my bathroom. I use it to take my evening vitamins/supplements. 

11. I used to know exactly what I would save if I could only save one thing in the event of a fire. It was my stuffed Simba. I'm no longer sure what I would grab. 

12. My favorite cartoon is Rocko's Modern Life. It's next on my DVD buying list. 

13. Anytime I chop an onion, I think about the way my hands smelled on overnights at Camp Jewell after chopping onions for hobo dinners. 

14. I detest cheese-its, goldfish, and any other cheese-like snacks. 

15. My favorite lotion is country apple from bath and body works. It's quite hard to come by, so I am quite stingy with the one bottle I have left. 

16. When on the treadmill, I can only walk/run in time with the music I am listening to. I have a playlist specifically for the treadmill. Because of this quirk, I choose to exercise on the elliptical. 

17. I am not ashamed to say that I love Barry Manilow. I have even attended a concert and have a t-shirt to prove it. That night was quite possibly one of the most magical nights of my life. 

18. My favorite flower is the iris. 

19. If I had to lose one of my senses, sight would be the last one I would choose. I would rather read than do anything else. 

20. My favorite pizza topping is black olive. I don't get to share pizza very often, and I am o.k. with that. 

21. My grandmother lived in a town called "Grover Hill." My brother and I always called it Grover Bump because it was so small. En route to "Grover Bump" I could not tell you one of the road names, but I have the route memorized via landmarks. 

22. I LOVE going to the dentist. 

23. I really miss the bright blue shag carpet of my childhood bedroom. Many nights I would fall asleep on the floor instead of in bed because I liked to read laying on the floor. 

24. While on the subject of my childhood bedroom... I lived in a very old house that didn't have heat upstairs. We just hate grates! I had a grate in my bedroom, and when punished, I would lay on top of the grate and cry as loud as I could to torture my parents for punishing me. 

25. I never knew where my birthmark was until my 18th birthday when my tattoo artist told me that he thought it was cute.

more than I can chew

It seems to be the common theme of the week... people are worn out, run down, stressed out, and generally crazy.  And when I say people, I mean seminarians.  It's not even the end of a term.  I mean, J-term is wrapping up, but most students I know didn't take J-term.  

For me, however, I have recently been struggling with balance.  It's not that I'm not getting all of my school work done, because I am, but I am just still learning how to be a wife, a student, a youth pastor, hold down a retail job and practice good self care all at the same time.  Self care does not just mean physical health, but also emotional and spiritual well-being.  I have just been failing.  

I have done such a good job recently at taking care of myself physically and keeping up with my school work.  But other things have suffered.  My spiritual discipline has gotten thrown at the window (except for those rare David Crowder Band meets treadmill moments) and I have been emotionally nuts, therefore doing a bit less than succeeding in the wife department.  

But J-term is over (as soon as I submit my paper) and I am starting a new semester.  A semester in which I can balance things better because I am going into it with intentionality.  I know now that it takes much more effort to succeed in all aspects of life.  And even if I don't succeed (which I probably won't...) I have the most wonderful support system of a husband who will love me if I'm neurotic, sleep deprived, hormonal or any combination of the three.  

Masters

So you've graduated from college, great!  Now what?!  

Well, for me, the obvious choice was to start seminary.  I have gone into seminary stressing that I am working on a masters degree.  I know that I am preparing for ministry, but I get really irritated when people forget that I am, indeed, working on a masters degree.  

I have to admit though, I've been struggling.  I have been talking to a good friend of mine who is also working on her masters.  She started at the same time I am, and is taking fewer classes at a time than I am, yet she will graduate almost two full years before me.  The same will go for my husband if he chooses a masters program.  I know that I am working on a degree that entails the care of persons' souls, but why should my degree take so long?  

The practical answer, I have found, is that for most masters you are required to have a related undergraduate degree, and that is not the case for most seminaries.  I am just having a hard time because my undergraduate degree was related, and most of these classes are repetitive for me (so far).  

I don't know where this post was really going, but it is something that I struggling with at this point in time.  

Zumba

well, we have a new president.  I think I'm going to be the only blogger that doesn't write about that tonight.  

Tuesday nights are zumba nights for me.  If you've never witnessed zumba, it is quite the spectacle.  There are plenty of videos on youtube.  Check it out.  Our instructor is the typical aerobics instructor: cute, skinny, ripped.  She's wonderful.  There are a lot of people in our class, so you never feel like you're the only one.  The thing for me is, all the women my age are must more fit than I am.  There are a few older women (in their 50's and 60's) that are my size.  I go to zumba and feel like I am in terrible shape (which I am).  I get far more red than everyone else, I drink a ton more water, and I sweat like a crazy person.  

Then I go back to thinking about the Biggest Loser cardio workout that my friend bought me for Christmas.  Bob, the trainer, tells you that he doesn't care whether or not you're doing exactly what he's saying, as long as you're moving.  That is what keeps me going when my chippy little zumba instructor is thrusting and salsa-ing and everyone else looks far cuter than I do.  I am moving.  I am working.  I am doing what my body needs.  How many people are sitting at home on their butts when I am up and kicking my own butt at zumba.  

Sure, I'm not the most fit person in the world, but I am on my way to that!  I'm trying hard!!  That's all that counts.  

Keep moving.  

Numbers

Well, in the last two days, I've gotten two very important numbers.  It reminded me of my adulthood.  That makes me very uncomfortable.  I got my credit score and my cholesterol score.  I have found that most things in adult life are defined by one of these two numbers.  

With my credit score, I wasn't suprised at all.  I am (almost) 23 years old.  I made bad choices in my younger adulthood.  Nothing too drastic, but I definately didn't the best financial advice I have ever gotten (read:  "Spend less than you make").  It never phased me in my earlier adulthood because I never pictured myself as the married type.  But now that I have a husband, I have forced a lot of my debt upon him.  I figure, "Hey, it comes with the territory, right?"  But in all honesty, it pains me to know my poor financial choices have had an impact on someone else's financial life.  

As for the cholestrol, WOW.  I was floored.  For my ordination process, I had to undergo a physical examination (must of which was quite against my will).  I didn't expect to hear anything other than, "You're fat." That I can deal with. I deal with it every day when I look in the mirror.  Now, don't get me wrong, I am not ok with my obesity (it's eye opening to use that word to describe yourself).  I realize that I must take care of myself for my own health and wellness.  My husband and I are working to make ourselves generally more healthy human beings.  I went to the doctor, form in tow, and went through the exam.  When I had my blood pressure taken, it was quite high.  I wrote it off as seeing a new doctor and being extremely nervous.  Then they ordered the required blood work.  I came back to have my blood drawn, and the nurse took my blood pressure again.  Again, it was high.  Surely it is my medication.  A possible side effect is high blood pressure.  So I go back to the doctor a third time, and get my blood pressure taken a third time.  It's still high.  The nurse showed my to the exam room and I sit and wait for the doctor.  He finally comes in and delivers the bad news.  Not only is your blood pressure high, but I am concerned about your cholesterol...

I went home and cried.  Yes, I know I'm overweight.  But to know that I am now going to fight a health problem fought mostly men in their fifties.  I am a 23 year old woman!!  What the heck?!  Things have got to change... 

What this leads me to think is about how life just gets boiled down to number.  Not just credit ratings and cholesterol, but salary and square footage and mileage.  As we live, we work towards good numbers.  But when we die, nobody stands in front of our coffin saying, "Gee, Ted really had a great credit rating."  I don't know what all this thinking is doing for my thoughts other than realizing that the point of life is simply to not let life get boiled down to one thing, whatever that one thing is.