The 200th Anniversary

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.  ~ Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

This is probably one of the best opening lines of a novel in the entire world. I’ve even studied at a writer’s clinic. After all it: 1) grabs attention and 2) sets the tone of the entire novel. For what else is Pride and Prejudice about but the prejudiced Elizabeth finding a wonderful husband in the wealthy, prideful Mr. Darcy?

The first time I read Pride and Prejudice I was in 6^th or 7^th grade. I read it as part of a book club some friends and I had. I imagine the girl who chose the book had just read it for the first time as a school assignment and loved it. I can’t say I fell in love with it, but I was intrigued. I had just started on the path of my writing “career” (which path I still tread in high hopes) and thought what an amazing author Jane Austen was to have all these multiple characters somehow tied together.

But I must confess I mostly forgot about Pride and Prejudice until I was 21 or so. Katey and I were home for a weekend by ourselves while everyone else went camping, and we decided to try out the multi-volumed VHS Pride and Prejudice from the library. We thought we’d take all weekend to watch it. We finished it Friday night…or was it early Saturday morning? And that is when I fell in love. Yes, more with Mr. Darcy than anything!

Today I cannot tell you how many times I have curled up on the couch and watched five hours of Pride and Prejudice. Granted, not usually in one sitting, but within two or three. And even though I could probably recite it, I still sigh over Darcy, wish I were Elizabeth, laugh at Bingley’s ridiculous sisters, want to tell Jane not to be so naïve, and desire to shake Lydia…and Mrs. Bennett. And because of that movie, my mother has decided she wishes to be called “Grandmama!”

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read the book either…and kick myself for not bringing my copy from Indiana (or always forgetting to grab it when I’m up there). I am very defensive of this book. When that book/movie came out called Lost in Austen, I wanted to throw something at my television. I may have the biggest crush in the world on Darcy (like most girls), but how dare anyone suggest he marry someone besides Elizabeth!

This week is the 200^th anniversary of Pride and Prejudice. Published on January 27, 1813 in three volumes, it was an immediate success. And, I imagine, will continue to be for another 200 years.

Happy anniversary Pride and Prejudice!

On the Road Again, Part 3

Well, it is summer in Texas. Okay, not really. It’s in the 70s and summer in Texas means the 100s. All the same, it is January. At least, that’s what my calendar says. But I can deal with it. Because in two weeks, I will be somewhere where the high will be in the teens. And let me just tell you, I cannot wait!

Everything is falling into place. I have the truck and trailer reserved – one way larger than I need but if it means no miles on my car, I’m happy. My room has boxes everywhere. Most are packed and taped up. A few are mostly packed, but they have a little space for something I might come across that will fit. And a few more are empty. But, more or less, that’s done. My dad has his flights to come down and help me travel up. I have the hotel reserved for the little-more-than-midway point. And I know where I’m moving into for a few weeks. My to-do is shorter rather than longer. And enough people are feeding me next week that I won’t need to eat for a month.

My last day at work is next Friday, February 1. I have to confess that I am counting down the days. Truth is, there’s not a lot to do. The guy that’s taking my place will manage…and he has my phone number if he can’t figure something out later. I’ll have several days to finish my own personal things. Dad arrives on the 6^th. We leave bright and early on the 7^th. It will be a pretty boring drive through the Midwest of the US – a drive I haven’t made since I was four. I don’t remember it, although I do remember some of the things that happened that last trip.

I arrive on the 8^th. A couple that volunteer at the camp have been kind enough to let me live at their house and put my stuff in their garage until I find a more permanent place to live over the next few weeks. Another girl who works at the camp lives there. I didn’t get to meet her, but we’ve been in touch and think we’re going to have fun. She already mentioned snowshoeing. I’ve never done that and am really looking forward to it. Winter sports! Yea!

Dad heads back on the 9^th. The 10^th will be a glorious day of rest. And the 11^th will be my first day at work. I imagine it will be like learning to speak Greek, but if I learned to speak “hospice”, I think “camp” will be a lot easier. After all, I’ve already had a couple of summers in it. Besides, I know I ‘m going to be working with some awesome people who, for some reason, think I’m going to fit into this job and their team perfectly. I hope I rise to their expectations. I do know they will help me settle in, not only with my job but in my new location and finding a new church.

So, the adventure is on my doorstep. And my blog will follow me up to the snowy, bitter cold of Minnesota (which, Haley reminded me, is on the same latitude as Russia). I’m looking forward to seeing what God is going to do.

On the Road Again, Part 2

It’s funny how as you put things in boxes what you own accumulates. Of course, I have always been bad at estimating. I know box sizes quite well (like, they definitely do NOT make one dollhouse size), but there always ended up being way more book boxes lined up in my bedroom than I thought. And even with only a quarter of my book collection with me, the same thing has happened. At least I’m using the normal size book boxes. Apparently, they are now smaller. I would need, like, a hundred of them.

Anyhow, I had turned down the job and was getting ready for the holidays: shopping, shipping, finding airline tickets, packing. I had lots on my mind with other things, too. So, when I got a call Friday mid-morning…well, I knew the area code but was busy so I let it go to voice mail. It was Eric, the director of operations…asking me to reconsider because they would really like me to take the job.

That gave me plenty of food for thought that afternoon. I sent him an e-mail explaining the full circumstances of why I could not promise three full years. I added that if, knowing everything, they still wanted me to consider the job…well, I would – gladly. And then came the holidays.

Christmas and New Year’s were nice. I went to Indiana and spent the time with my family, which is always fun. I came back thinking about Minnesota and trying to figure out what God had in mind. (Of course, that never works out, but I always seem to try anyhow.) I got an e-mail from Eric the week after New Years, saying he would contact my references. That he did. I had one tell me she was afraid he was going to ask my shoe size – who gives a reference that takes a whole half hour? But they were VERY thorough. And still wanted me.

I traveled up there the 10^th-11^th to see the camp. It’s located two hours northwest of Minneapolis in a little town called Burtrum. Camp Lebanon is a beautiful location, surrounded my hills and trees right on a lovely lake (that was frozen solid). I loved seeing the snow. I loved having to wear a coat. I loved no traffic. (I can’t tell you how much I loved the latter – I never realized how the traffic down here stresses one so!) Everyone I met was so friendly and welcoming, even Eric’s entire family whom I met at dinner. The morning of the 11^th, I first breakfasted with the ladies on staff and then met with the “stakeholders”. That was seven people in one room shooting questions at me like I was on trial for something. Okay, it wasn’t that bad. And by that time, I felt quite comfortable with most of them and was fine with whatever happened. Of course, I was still a bit nervous when I was dismissed until lunch so they could discuss me among themselves.

After lunch, I met with Eric again. He said it was unanimous. However, the director, Bill, wished for all of us to pray about it over the weekend. So, we were going to have a discussion that he would call me Monday, but here was the plan to get me up there. Admittedly, it was all a bit overwhelming, but I left Minnesota that day with plans to turn around and come back in less than a month.

The weekend I spent praying but also knowing that this was God’s will for me. After all, how many people come back and offer you a job you turned down? Or unanimously agree you are the one? Or that everything just falls into place? And that even though it makes no sense, it’s just right. As I thought about it on the way to church Sunday, I told God these pieces did not fit into the puzzle I was imagining…in fact, they don’t even seem to fit into the pieces already in place. I didn’t understand. And I could practically hear God, “Well, Melissa, maybe it’s about time they didn’t look right to you.”

God’s ways are not our ways. And His thoughts are not our thoughts. Being a planner by nature, I purposely put that truth out of my head as I plunge ahead and try to make everything work with what I can see. Which is never everything. Thankfully, God is so often a gentle teacher. And a true one. For even though these pieces don’t look right, I am looking forward to seeing the end result.

On the Road Again, Part 1

Last week my mom told me that once I have an empty box in front of me and tape in my hand, it will all come back to me. Apparently, that is true…for half my belongings (in Texas) are packed and I don’t leave for 2 ½ more weeks!

I’m sure I have some sort of disorder. I mean, everyone has one. It’s all the rage. ADD, OCD…I think mine is MCD: Moving Compulsion Disorder. I told a friend that the boxes piled about my room feel normal and comfortable. Like my world is right again. And I guess it is. I’ve been at my present address for two years and three months. It’s time to move!

So, yes, I am moving. To Minnesota. In two and a half weeks. And just as a disclaimer, this was not in the game plan. In no way do these pieces seem to fit with the many others God has placed in my unfinished puzzle the past two years or so. Well, in my view. In God’s…well, it’s the right move. I know it is. Only God’s perfect plan gives one perfect peace even when it doesn’t make sense.

I will back up. About three months…well, a bit more. I started looking for another job. Not passionately. Just looked up things that might be of interest to me. Most of them office kind of work – all of them out of Texas and further north. Applied for different things here and there with very little luck. As weeks passed, I started looking more. Things were going on that just weren’t right, and I started praying that God would let me leave: somewhere north and in time for me to enjoy some winter. I am getting exactly what I prayed for.

One line of work I was toying with was working at a Christian camp full time. I have lots of fond memories of the two summers spent at Ridgecrest and always thought Connie, the office manager/registrar there, had the best of jobs. I applied for a few and heard back. The week after Thanksgiving, I even flew up to North Dakota to take a look at one. It was while I was whiling away several hours in the Denver airport that I heard back from another camp. This one in Minnesota. I had nearly forgotten about it, but they said if I was still interested to fill out of the attached application. I had time (what else do you have as you await for an airplane to arrive?), so I did. I have never filled out an application with essay questions, but I’m not a procrastinator. I had it sent back to them by Monday morning.

North Dakota didn’t work out. I didn’t have great hopes for Minnesota, but they set up a time to interview. First with the assistant director. We made a good connection and the interview went well. The next step was to try a Skype interview with him and two other employees, including their present registrar. Due to technology malfunctions (or more likely the malfunctions with the users themselves), it ended up being just a phone call. It went very well, but in the course of conversation it came out that they wanted a four to five year commitment. Even though they came back with three years, I could not honestly promise that. It was one of the hardest things I had ever refused. I almost wondered if I felt like Moses looking into the Promised Land but unable to enter. I wanted the job, but I could not be dishonest to obtain it. I sent an email that I would have to refuse. They replied that they understood. And that was that.

Or so I thought…

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Happy Birthday, Gracie!