All the Pieces

I like puzzles. I always have. And the more complicated, the better. As a kid I was so bored of my puzzles, I would get them out all at once, dump the pieces from all three or four of them, mix them up really good and then put the puzzles together. When I graduated to a full 500-piece puzzle (instead of five 100-piece puzzles mixed together), I was very proud of myself. Sometimes trying to challenge myself will get me into trouble. I don’t think I’ll ever forget my Titanic puzzle: 800-pieces of a black sea against a night sky, with a mere 200-pieces making up the ship. If only that ship had sunk in broad daylight near a beautiful tropical island. Then it wouldn’t have taken me four months to piece it together.

I also like puzzles in life. That’s why the favorite part of my present job is cabin assignments: take 200 kids and split them evenly into 20 cabins, making sure they are with at least two of their friends. I see things in my life as a puzzle – different things that have to come together to make a whole. Of course, the infinite God doesn’t see life as a puzzle since He dwells in eternity and sees it all at once. No pieces required. But because I am finite, I often see His hand as putting pieces in my puzzle.

Putting together a wedding can be like a puzzle. And even though I am happy to say most of the pieces are in, there are still several pieces (probably belonging to the sky – the part we always seem to put together last) that are waiting to find their places. One of these was serving the drinks. Camp has a large beverage dispenser that is very nice and has a tube for ice down the middle. During women-related retreats, it comes out and the kitchen staff fill sit with water and floats various kinds of fruit on top. When I looked for one on-line, I found it wasn’t that expensive and Mom thought it would be a good $25 investment (especially if my siblings get married and need it – that’s $6 a wedding). But the question in my mind was how to serve the punch. I didn’t want to purchase another dispenser and I find it awkward asking Ed to ask women I don’t even know to borrow various things from their kitchens. I confess I didn’t see this as important enough to pray over…just gnaw over when it crossed my mind.

But God knows all things. A couple of weeks ago, Ed called me on his way home from Bible study and told me someone had given us a punch bowl. A guy and his sister at his Bible study wanted to get rid of it, and Ed shrugged and said, “Why not?” Now a punch bowl was not on my registry, but I actually did need one! And there it was (complete with glasses and serving spoon) clanging on the seat next to Ed in his truck. A piece to the puzzle.

A punch bowl can seem like a very small thing. And who knows when the next time I use it shall be after the wedding. (Years?) But it has been a great encouragement to me. For there are some big pieces staring me in the face, almost mocking me as the days to the wedding get closer and closer. Am I going to find a job? What kind of job is it going to be? Will it be an asset to my marriage? Where are we going to live? In Ed’s small apartment or can we manage to afford someplace closer to where he works? These are not pieces that will fit into a day and be over (like a wedding dress or flower girl baskets). These are questions that will be very important parts to the life Ed and I will be building together.

And God knows. If God knows about a little punch bowl, then of course He knows about the need for a job. Or how nice it would be if Ed didn’t have to drive so far to work every day. I can trust Him. He will put these pieces together. And grow my faith.

Four Day Weekend

At camp, we get two days off for Easter. Which gave me a four day weekend. And has allowed me to check off at least five different lists. More than one a day! I call that a very successful weekend.

Friday I slept in. Went for a run. Stopped at the library to pick up some DVDs and books, pausing to get online to send out a few job applications to places in Pittsburgh. I cleaned out my closet, throwing quite a few things away. Got my lists ready for my shopping venture on Saturday. And did some reading.

On Saturday, I went to St. Cloud. Along with everyone else within a 40-mile radius. Which is probably true since there isn’t much in the way of shopping within a 40-mile radius. I made several stops trying to find the last things I need for the wedding. I never did find baskets for the flower girls. Easter baskets are much bigger than I remember and seem to come only in bright pinks, purples, yellows and greens. Not exactly what I was looking for. Stopped and saw Captain America: The Winter Soldier which I enjoyed. And then did my favorite kind of clothes shopping: tried on several things and bought nothing. (The best way I know to keep well below your budget!). Ended with my last big grocery shopping spree for my remaining 5 weeks in Minnesota, followed by picking up a pizza. (Mostly because I haven’t had a pizza in months and just felt like it.)

Sunday was a lovely day – Resurrection Sunday! Even though I didn’t have any friends or family to spend it with, I enjoyed my morning in church. And the day was so lovely out, I went for a walk. I don’t ever slow down enough to walk (you get further running or biking), so I enjoyed the sunshine and warmer weather. You have to while you can – most of this week is supposed to be cold and rainy.

And Monday, I crossed off my final list of things I needed to do around my apartment and to prepare for my week at work. I got some letters written and packages taped up to mail. Put my finances in order and checked to see what I have remaining on my wedding to-do list. And I spent nearly an hour working on Abigail’s training schedule for the next month. She is my replacement here at camp and arrives on Tuesday. And we have a lot of ground to cover over the next few weeks, plus trying to keep up with registrations. But, I’m sure she’ll catch on quickly and it will be over before I know it. Which means I will be on my way to Pittsburgh…

Well, let the marathon begin!

Spring?

Yesterday, I saw my first robin!

I think it told me it had come north too early.

12 inches!!!!

The Days Grow Short

Even as they grow longer? Here in Minnesota, the sun is out for over twelve hours a day now. It rises around seven in the morning and sets around eight in the evening. So even though the nights are back into the teens with highs in the thirties during the day (do I even hear more snow?), spring has arrived. Even the lake is starting to thaw!

But it’s the amount of my days until the wedding that are growing shorter. To be honest, there isn’t a lot left to do for the wedding except picking up some last minute things and then making sure we know what we’re after once we arrive in Pittsburgh. But today I realized how fast those days are going to fly by.

My assistant (and adopted little sister), Andrea, has only two weeks left at work. With so much to do for Mother/Daughter in two weeks; we’ve been focused so much on that it dawned on me today that I need to connect with her on things before she’s gone. (Not that I can’t find her later – she is moving in with me for a few weeks and will be at my wedding to do my hair and make-up.) We tried to pin a couple of dates down to get those things worked on, realizing that we only have a limited amount of days to do that.

My replacement, Abigail, arrives sometime next week. While I alerted everyone on our group tasks/calendar that they need to be thinking about when to connect with her about their ministries; I’ve been putting her training schedule on the back burner. Mostly because I’m not 100% sure which day she will actually arrive. But that needs to be ironed out this week because I need to get myself and my co-workers on the calendar with training sessions. This job has so many components I don’t want to miss anything! It’s going to be a busy last few weeks at work.

Of course, there are little things to do for the wedding still. (Forgot to do one today! Will do it tomorrow.) I need to collect a few more boxes just to make sure I have enough for packing. (Better more than less!) I have reserved my moving pod. And I thought I had my dates set. But a job possibility in Pittsburgh may change that up a bit. And while I don’t like changes to my plans, I would REALLY like this job. So, I am praying I get it and then I’ll make new plans.

The pieces continue to come together. God is faithful. And before I know it, I’ll be heading east to a brand new adventure unlike any I’ve had before.

Now, that’s a little frightening…

Pigs, Chickens and Sour Cream Raisin Pie

Last night a nearby camp had our staff over for a pig roast. I've been to a pig roast once before, but they have it down to an art! The pig was well roasted and the meat was then marinated in three different ways (chipotle was my favorite). Not only that but they stuffed some chickens with onions, celery and spices. Then they stuffed those chickens into the cavity of the pig and let them roast in there. That was really good chicken!

I would say that most of us (including me) just ate meat last night. Followed by dessert. And there were LOTS of desserts. Including a Minnesota special: Sour Cream Raisin Pie. I saw it listed on a menu when I first moved up here and asked about it, but the person I asked didn't like raisins so she wasn't a fan. She described it as a cream pie of sorts, but it's not. It's got a texture more like a pecan pie. But it's not at all sweet. It's sour. Raisins are mixed in to make it also sweet. I think you can put a meringue on top, but this one had a crumble top. Since I'm about to leave Minnesota, I thought I should say I at least tried it. So, I took a small slice. And ate about two bites. Let's just say I'm also not a fan.

As our chef Jim said, "This is a great meal. All that wonderful meat. Followed by all that wonderful dessert. Can't beat that!"

Career: SAHM

I’ve not quite figured out why we ask for the parents’ occupations on our summer registration forms (except we’re always trying to find a couple of nurses for the week). But we do. And you get all kinds: dentist, engineer, postal worker, pastor, etc. Sometimes I wonder if parents are trying to impress me. The one I read today said: Vice President. I had to wonder: Vice President of what? A dog pound? A farmer’s union? A Fortune 500 company? Who knows.

Last summer I saw one I had to Google. The mother had put down under her name SAHM. I had to find out what that stood for. Simply put: Stay At Home Mom. I texted Ed that I wanted to be a SAHM when I grew up. His answer: A what? A STAY AT HOME MOM!!!!

I’ve been slowly reading the book Feminine Appeal by Carolyn Mahaney. It’s based upon the seven instructions Paul gives to Titus concerning women found in Titus 2. The last chapter I read was entitled “The Honor of Working at Home”. She began the chapter with an antidote of her sitting in the doctor’s office filling out forms for her youngest child. When she got to the space where she was to put her occupation, she paused. Why? Because she felt almost ashamed to write down “housewife”. Ashamed???? I would ask the nurse for a brighter color pen and write it in bold letters so no one would miss it. How could anyone feel ashamed of living out the highest calling of womanhood?

But, as she explained, we live in a culture where stay at home moms are put to shame. If women don’t have an equal (sorry – better) career than men, bring home just as much (sorry – more) money than their husbands and spend just as little (sorry – less) time with their kids; they are considered failures. As Mrs. Mahaney quoted from Mrs. Dorothy Patterson:

                        “Much of the world would agree that being a housekeeper is acceptable as long as you are not caring for your own home; treating men with attentive devotion would also be right as long as the man is the boss in the office and not your husband; caring for children would even be deemed heroic service for which presidential awards could be given as long as the children are someone else’s and not your own.”

Yes, that is the world in which we live.

Now, granted, I am a woman with a career. If you can define administrative office positions in various locations a “career”. But that is because (until two months from now) I don’t have a husband. And only God knows if I will ever have kids. And not being the sit-at-home-for-thirty-four-years-and-wait-for-Prince-Charming-to-come-on-his-great-white-charger type, I have worked. And the Lord has directed me in different directions as He has grown my skills. And, yes, I am looking for a job in Pittsburgh because I’m also not the stay-at-home-and-clean-the-bathroom-for-the-tenth-time-today-because-I’ve-nothing-else-to-do-while-Ed-is-at-work-all-day type. Not that I couldn’t stay at home and just be his wife if that’s what he wanted, but he and I have agreed that I am free to work in the job God leads me to until we have children. Then I will be a SAHM. (Yea – I get promoted to an acronym! Doesn’t that sound grandly important?)

Yes, the Lord has different paths for each of us in life. Yes, there are moms that have to work outside the home for a variety of reasons. And, no, it is not ever good to compare your situation with someone else’s. But when I look at my 34 years and compare them to my dearest friend Allyson’s 34 years, I fall WAY short. I have to use my two hands and both feet to count all the places I’ve lived, I barely managed to concise my long resume into one page, and Ed’s going to kill me when he has to move all my books to Pittsburgh. But Allyson has to use two hands to count her seven wonderful children, she’s moving onto her feet as she counts her years of marriage (eleven in June!) and she can make a little house into a grand home. She has eternal little souls under her care every day. She has a job that is 24/7. She falls into bed much more exhausted than I do and has to get up within a few hours to feed a 1-week old. Although I pray the Lord uses me in the lives I touch every day, my life does not compare. Do I envy her? No. I admire her. And I inspire to be like her.

Today on a registration form, a mom wrote under name “Stay at home Mom” but then added in parenthesis “and a good one” as if she had to prove to me that what she does in worthwhile. Stay at home moms, you don’t have to prove to anyone that what you do is worthwhile. I rise up and praise my mom for staying at home and being the example she has been to her husband, children and others around her. Stay at home moms, you don’t ever need to be ashamed. God wrote nearly a whole chapter in Proverbs devoted solely to you! So, get out that colored pen and write down your occupation boldly. Because this world can never repay the debt it owes to women who sacrifice everything for their families.

This is a sign I would like posted on my desk some days:

"Your last minute changes are not my emergency."

Minnesota: From the Perspective of a Nomad, Part 10

In eight weeks, I will be leaving the state of Minnesota. I will have lived here a grand total of fifteen months. Next to Indiana, where I lived for nine months, it sets the record for shortest time spent in one state. There must be something about living in the Midwest that doesn’t quite stick with me.

I have to confess, I don’t find the Midwest very intriguing. I haven’t lived here long enough to explain to anyone what makes the Midwest the Midwest except to say it’s “different”. I attempted an explanation on that a couple of weeks ago and fell short. Except for funny accents, spice aisles in the grocery store that contain next to nothing (bland food is their choice cuisine) and no history, I couldn’t put into words what makes this part of the country odd to me. It’s just not the Northeast. It’s not the South. And, of course, it’s not Texas. But to explain that to the natives up here who have never been to the Northeast, the South (except Florida which doesn’t exactly count) or Texas…well, I can’t. Naturally, they don’t claim to have an accent. They like their bland food. And they become a bit annoyed when I try to explain the rich history of the American Revolution or the War Between the States. Most of their ancestors were still in Europe during the American Revolution and what’s the War Between the States? Oh, the Civil War! Well, of course we’re on Lincoln’s side. After all, he won the war and freed the slaves. They don’t seem to get the irony of that when put up against the history they do have: Indian wars sprung from enslaving them on reservations. A problem Lincoln only compounded.

But in that sense, they’re no more and certainly no less prejudiced to their own ways than Texans who think they live in their own country, New Englanders who are rude to everyone or Southerners who will one day rise again. And in Minnesota, I realized this morning, prejudice also comes in the way of clothing.

I’m afraid that even should I live here ten years, I will never succumb to the one fashion statement they all have hanging in their closets: camouflage. When I went wedding dress shopping, there was a camo wedding gown! (It was mostly white, but trimmed top and bottom with camo.) They wear camo pants, camo jackets, camo hats, camo shirts – men and women! If you can wear it, you can find it in camo. There is even matching underwear!

And they start them young. It was a nicer day out today, so as I went through town this morning I saw a man out with half a dozen preschool aged kids. You couldn’t miss them. Every single one of these two or three-feet-tall little people were dressed in camo coats with either a camo or orange cap on their heads. Very likely, part of their day at preschool is spent learning how to fish and hunt. After all, that is much more important than learning to count or how to say your ABCs.

Truly, I am grateful to have spent a small portion of my life in Minnesota. I’ve met some great people, tasted some new foods, learned a new vernacular and been laughed at for my ways in response to laughing at their ways. But I am glad to get away unscathed. I don’t say “behg”, I still laugh when they say “uff-dah!”, I never purchased a boat, and I don’t own a stitch of camo.