Labor Day weekend is a good time to give some thought to work-rest balance. This is a particularly difficult topic for Americans. We like to work. Many of us are happiest when we're being productive. Yet rest is prescribed by God; Sabbath is commanded.

I have spent a fair amount of time thinking about Sabbath. I didn't worry about it before I started church work because I had Sundays off, and I went to worship in the morning, and then generally goofed off in the afternoon. Eventually, I realized that I was no longer taking a whole day off from work. I felt like a hypocrite teaching confirmation and talking about the commandments - no room for smugness when I got to the Third. So I started looking around for a way to observe the Sabbath commandment in a God-honoring way.

One essential part of Sabbath is that it is holy - set apart, treated with reverence, held as special. The other is that there is rest. Orthodox Jews observe this so strictly that they won't even flip a light switch on the Sabbath, but that kind of observance would be work (not rest) for me. I believe true Sabbath is an interruption in daily life that turns me toward God, a change of routine that will actually create a restful oasis in my overloaded life.

What I finally chose to do was not complicated. I set aside 24 consecutive hours each week where I refrain from driving my car and spending money. In the beginning it was hard. Then one day I realized that in practice, Sabbath is observed sundown to sundown, and that made all the difference for me. These days my Sabbath practice usually takes place between 6pm Thursday and 6pm Friday, not a usual time but it works for me. These two simple changes slow me down and also create space for rest and prayer. I may be folding laundry, but the slower pace brings me to a place of gratitude for the ordinary. Hot water and clean towels are luxuries I rarely give thanks for. . . occasionally I slip up and hit the "buy now with 1-click" button, but on the whole, it is time away and, I believe, accords me Sabbath benefits.

As the slower days of summer draw to a close, I plan to continue my counter-cultural practice and I hope you can find your own ways to keep Sabbath. If you can't begin to imagine this - start with an hour. I would love to hear about your reactions to experimenting with Sabbath or your established Sabbath practices. Please share!

Church Friends. . .

As I prepared for the birth of my first child, far from my parents and barely planted in Texas, I went in search of a church community in which to raise my child. I visited every congregation of my denomination within a reasonable distance and finally settled upon one. The worship was lively and the liturgy familiar. I attended semi-regularly in the beginning, and eventually joined. The day I became a member though came a few months after I was officially added to the rolls. It was the day I made a friend at church. 

In fact, I made two friends at church that day. I found myself sitting next to a couple who were also expecting a child, and from the looks of things, with a due date close to mine. They welcomed me warmly and from that day forward I had someone I recognized when I came to worship. Eventually, I delivered my daughter Emily three weeks early, on Beth's due date, and she delivered Kenny 8 days later. Her son and my daughter were destined to be friends from an early age.

Fast forward about five years and Niel, Beth's husband, and another great guy from our church have started a camping ministry. By this time I'm a single parent with two kids (the second daughter was born on Kenny's second birthday.) Remembering my own joy in camping as a child I decided to sign up for the family campout. And with lots of help from Niel, and other kind church friends, we started camping a couple times a year. Those weekends were some of the best in my life. The kids had freedom and friends and sunshine and nature, and the adults had community in a way rarely seen outside of family circles. Emily and Kenny made their first communion at a campout, covered in mud and surrounded by people who they already gathered around a table with on a regular basis.

Time marches on and eventually Niel was transferred to Minnesota but our families managed to see one another and even vacationed together a couple of times. Sometime after they left, I went to work at that (now much larger) church and tried hard to befriend new people as Niel and Beth had befriended me.

When my job at that church came to an end, I decided to let the Spirit lead me, wherever that might be. And she led me to Minnesota, only 40 minutes from my old friends, who became my first friends again. And when I moved a second time, I was still close, and now living in the same town as Kenny and his wife, 1100 1150 miles north. Thanks be to God for the gift of friendship!

This entry is written in response to a Friday Five prompt. One of the five questions was "Who is your longest term church-related friend?"  I was shocked to realize that we have been friends since 1984, over half of my life. Apologies to all who have heard this story before (or other stories of our friendship and adventures over the years). And thanks to Beth and Niel for being both good friends and good role models, and for continuing to make memories with me!

Fresh Start. . .

Dear Friends, It's been a long stretch since my last post and as the summer approaches I've decided to get back in the saddle again. A group I belong to posts a Friday Five challenge which I intend to use as a prod to get me going. So - as I fumble to find my footing, bear with me, and feel free to ask questions.

As most of you know, I changed jobs again back in November. It was hard. Harder than moving to Minnesota in the first place because back then I needed a job, and a place to be useful. Blooming Prairie was the perfect transition. The people were kind, the church was and is vibrant, the pace was restful, and I really recovered from the trauma of unexpected change. I learned a lot about myself, and about where I came from. I hope and think I was useful to the congregation and the community. I made some wonderful friends who I expect to keep forever.

. . .Then the Spirit blew something new into my path and I found myself drawn toward it and after endless prayer and journaling and lists of pros and cons along with conversations with trusted advisors I decided to accept a new position 50 miles further north. . .

That decision started an eight month period of imbalance: new job and home, holidays in a new setting, some family stuff, and just the lack of community that I as an extravert require for good balance. It takes time to settle after this kind of thing but I'm determined to find a new balance this summer.

All of which brings me to today's writing challenge: make a quick list of five things you do when you need a triage of self care.

1. I SWIM. Nothing soothes my soul or my body like time in the pool. One big bonus of the move to Northfield is the Northfield Senior Center which has an 89 degree pool open many hours a day. I joined early this year and try to make it there every couple of days.
2. I READ. I read good fiction that takes me to other times, places or circumstances. If it's not absorbing, or if I find myself critiquing the writing or the plot, I move on to something else (I have a Kindle which allows second choices 24 hours a day.)
3. I CONNECT. When my need for self-care is caused by too much alone time I make the effort to plan a meet up with someone else, or call someone I miss a lot.
4. I INDULGE. Usually with a haircut, pedicure, on-line shopping, or sleep, but sometimes with a massage, a rant, or planning a trip.
5. I CRAFT. As I haven't really set up a studio yet, this one is kind of unavailable right now (and more a source of stress than relaxation) but when I can drag out stamps, paper, tools and toys and try out new techniques and color combinations I can feel my soul settle.

The challenge offered "bonus points" for a sixth item so I will add that I PRAY in different ways: writing letters to God, finding a place outdoors to sit with God and let the wonder of creation seep into my awareness, or just good old-fashioned contending with the Almighty out loud.

So, how about you? What are your five go-to activities when you need to take care of your frazzled self? I think just thinking about this is a really useful exercise for me. It creates a plan for the time when I need to rebalance. Challenges and stress and change come to all of us and it's good to be prepared to step up and take care of ourselves. I hope you have some extra time off this weekend and can spend some of it taking care of yourself! I will be catching up at home in an effort to find a little more balance 1100 1150 miles north. . .

Senior Antics

No, not me, though the insistent AARP renewal reminders seem to indicate that they are concerned about my memory. (And since it's been so long since I wrote ANYTHING, I guess my memory could be suspect!) However, the past two weeks have held several graduating seniors events.

First, I went to Notre Dame, in South Bend, Indiana to witness Gracie's graduation from Law School.

I was one proud mama, but I didn't take many pictures since others were buzzing about with cameras, so you'll have to make do with this quick phone snap as proof I was there. Everything about the graduation was delightful: the awards ceremony, the party Gracie and two of her besties threw on Friday evening so their families could meet, the morning prayer service, eating brunch in law school classrooms, and especially the student-selected professor who spoke so eloquently of what really matters (and he specifically stated that your career was NOT the most important thing.) It was happy and sad at the same time, like most graduations; it was hard to leave Gracie and Tony's first home for the last time, but also very exciting to see their next chapter beginning.

Here in Blooming Prairie, my mind is on the Baccalaureate service for the high school seniors which my congregation hosted this week. I didn't have much to worry about besides getting gifts for the seniors, lining up younger students and parents to serve, and ordering the cake (check, check and check!) We are starting a new tradition with this post-Baccalaureate reception but there are plenty of on-going traditions. Last Friday, on the way to work, I was literally stopped in my tracks by one of them. Here's what stopped me:

Tractors! Lots of them. It is a tradition here for the graduating seniors to drive a tractor to school on the last Friday of classes. The young man driving the Deere happens to be my upstairs neighbor. He doesn't park that tractor in the parking lot so I'm guessing a farming family friend lent it for the day.

A Rochester television station reported on the event. You can watch their story here:
Blooming Prairie tradition,

I guess the end of the school year has entirely permeated my mind these past few days. I also wrote about it on my other blog WaterWings. Onward to summer!

Paper Possibilitites

You may have seen the announcement on Facebook - my sister and I have taken the big leap and joined forces as Possibility Paper Company.

We've been stamping for years: cards for friends, teaching stamping classes, and making invitations for showers and parties. Then came Emily's wedding. I demanded that Laurie meet me at Mom's and help me with the invitations. (I really didn't give her a choice in the matter!) and for an entire weekend, with help from Mom, we embossed with Certainly Celery Craft Ink and clear embossing powder. About 150 inviations, with multiple pieces for each one.

Eventually we helped out with a lot of weddings, married off more daughters and their friends and finally realized that there were other brides who didn't have the benefit of a mom with a stamp room

So here we are, and I have weddings on the brain. All the time.

Yesterday I went to the post office to mail off a package of labels (we are full service!) to a bride. While I was there I took a look at the wedding stamps. Take a look at these beauties:

This one is very striking. It's a $.49 "forever" stamp that would look so good on a white envelope! The little heart hints at the fact that the envelope contains news of love, but it's not entirely obvious. I like it - and I wouldn't feel silly using them up after the wedding.

Postage is reasonable, but still a factor when choosing your invitations. The cost of using this stamp is $49/hundred invitations. Your invitations have to be in a standard sized envelope and weigh less than an ounce and be less than 1/4 inch thick to mail with this stamp. However, if you exceed any of those restrictions or want an odd sized envelope - say 6x6 inch square - there is a $.70 option that features vintage tulips. That extra ounce raises your price to $70/100. Not a huge cost in the scope of all the wedding expenses, but one to consider when choosing your invitations.

An older but still popular choice is a pair of stamps that look awesome on vanilla or cream colored envelopes. The standard version features roses, but this $.70 option for 1-2 oz or square or oversized envelopes is just beautiful.

These have been around for a while now and are beloved by brides who want traditional or classic weddings and invitations. They are probably not as popular with the whimsical or theatrical bride. And if you have opted for envelopes in a color outside the white/cream spectrum, you will probably want to explore other options with the post office. You'll find a wide variety of richly colored stamps that will fit most color scheme or bridal themes. Some of them are actual works of art. I love the Farmer's Market stamp collection, and I think this Water Lily group

would be striking with many pastel envelopes.

I don't know how much brides agonize over these details; there used to be far fewer choices. Maybe I just like it because I collected stamps as a kid. Do you remember what the stamps on YOUR wedding invitaions looked like? Did you notice the stamp on the last invitation you received?

As you can tell, I am loving everything about our new business! As I recently mentioned, more time with my sister is one of the biggests gifts of my life up north, and Possibility Paper Company makes even more time together possible. You just never know where life will take you! This is definitely one of the blessings to be counted 1100 Miles North!

Robin Promises

The robins are here! Here in the midwest the arrival of the robins is a well-known promise of spring. While this winter has been a piece of cake compared to last year's monstrous snowfall and incredibly low temperatures, we have still spent 5 months in coats, gloves and boots - and I am very ready to shed all the extra clothing and feel the breeze on my skin.

So, when I saw a flock of robins arrive outside my office window last week I felt my hope begin to soar.

The robins like some trees better than others, and I'm told that the flowering crabapples we have planted around the church grounds are some of their favorites.  I think this must be true because there are literally dozens of the funny, fat, red-breasted visitors visible from every window.  The tree outside my office has had as many as 20 birds perched in its branches at times.

Last winter (I may have already shared) I was told that when the robins have walked on fresh snow three times, we could expect spring weather to stay. I paid strict attention, and the prediction held. Yesterday we were visited by the first snow since the arrival of the robins, and I watched them with great interest to see what they would do.

As the snow fell, the birds took refuge in the courtyard, under the eaves. They were close enough to watch with great enjoyment. Any movement from my side of the window would spark a great flurry of activity but soon they would settle back under the eaves and resume their poking and picking in the mulch (where, incidentally, you can see the promise of tulips poking through.) I tried, but never got a shot or video of them good enough to share.

Still, I did record proof that spring is on its way. The robins have left their footprints in the snow so two more snows and we will find our way to spring!

(I should add that I am probably the most impatient person in Blooming Prairie. Most people here are happy to have temperatures in the 40's and to see the snow disappear. I am greedy. I want the mud gone too, and temps that require no jacket.

I miss having everything bursting into bloom as Easter approaches. The irony that I live in Blooming Prairie, home of the Awesome Blossoms, and have no hint of anything getting ready to bloom is not lost on me.)

Perhaps I should see the approach of Easter as I see the robins - as a promise of better things to come.

My Lenten weeks have gone by quickly - filled with soup suppers prepared by my National Youth Gathering group, preparing my little Angel Chorus to sing on Palm Sunday,  rounding up commitments for the Easter breakfast, and leading Communion Instruction for 18 fourth and fifth graders who will celebrate their first communion during Holy Week.

The road to Easter is pretty much the same no matter what is happening outdoors but this photo, posted by my friend Karen in Austin on Facebook last week, reminds me why I am feeling such longing for spring.

The plows have gone by so even though the school is starting two hours late, I should probably leave a few footprints of my own and head to the office.

I'll let you know when spring arrives here, 1100 Miles North!

Revisiting Childhood Pleasures

Today I felt incredibly old and wonderfully young all at the same time. And it wasn't dementia setting in; I went ice-skating. Well, actually, it was more like ice-shuffling. It was a beautiful day - temperatures in the 30s and a blue sky without a cloud to be seen.

In my imagination skating was going to be like riding a bike, something you never forget how to do. In reality though, skates have changed, my center of gravity has changed, and my courage has been subsumed by common sense.

There were kids there with a folding chair and one of them let me use it. Otherwise I'm pretty sure I would have clung to the fence the whole time. As it was, I took a full 30 minutes to lace up, inch my way out onto the rink, and scoot my way around the perimeter with the help of a folding chair. My ankles were wobbly and I felt muscles I'd kind of forgotten I had.

Speaking of fogotten muscles - I recently realized that here on the prairie I have lost my stair and hill climbing muscles. After a couple of visits to places that required climbing stairs I realized that I now have a very lazy backside. Neither my home nor my work requires going up or down stairs with any regularity. Another good reason to try to regain my ability to skate.

But back to the rink. . . maybe the best part was that I saw lots and lots of "my" kids and their friends. They were all very sweet and friendly and encouraging and helpful. I think if when I fall I will have help getting up!

Another happy thing about this adventure was learning that the rink is a joint project of the city and the state. It has a warming house and skates in good condition which can be borrowed for free. It employs two teens at a time whenever it's open (starting at 4pm every day when school gets out, and at 8am on Saturday and Sunday.) My tax dollars are working on things that really impact the community: exercise, employment, safety, and intergenerational interaction. 

I'm going back! I wish I had a training tool like this one:

I guess I learned without one before so I probably can again, albeit at a much slower pace. I suppose I could even toss my own folding chair in the trunk of the car.

In the end I left smiling. It had been a pleasant break in my day. My cheeks glowed from the longest stretch of time outdoors that I've had all winter. I will go back. And next time I'll stay long enough to justify drinking hot chocolate afterward. 

Still revisiting my childhood pleasures. . . 1100 Miles North.

A Christmas Card. . . sort of?

I hope this finds you fully engaged in Christmas week. It seems like it will never come and then BOOM it's here and ZOOM it's gone. A delightful  number of cards have found their way to my mailbox over the last couple of weeks and I want to thank all of you who made the time to send cards. It is a joy to see your family pictures and read about your year just ending. Please know that I cherish each of you, even if you didn't receive a card this year. It is lack of time and organization that caused that - there is no lack of love! It takes effort to keep relationships alive - I am so thankful for the many friends and lovely family with whom God has blessed me. 

It's been a big year for me - a full year 1100 Miles North after thirty years in the Heart of Texas. This is my second Christmas here and I am basking in the settled-ness of my life compared to last year. It's been a year of learning, making mistakes, special celebrations, trying new things, and intriguing brushes with the past.

This second Christmas season affirms some key things I have long believed:

• He came down that we might have LOVE!
• You will find people of good-will everywhere.
• If it's going to be cold, there should be snow!
• Minnesota Public Radio leaves all other radio in the dust.
• The more children one has in her life, the better life is.
• You won't die from homesickness. And you'll never become immune to it either.
• I-35 runs north more than south (thanks Mom and everyone else who has traveled in this direction.)

Looking ahead to the new year, I am energized by many plans and possibilities. I am looking forward to deepening relationships here, having another year enjoying geographically closer family, and relishing time with old friends. I'll be traveling east to Rochester, Madison, South Bend, Detroit and Providence, west to South Dakota, and south to Arkansas and Texas to various events with friends and family. In between I hope to spend more time with a pen in my hand, riding my new bike, welcoming visitors, and stamping again. I've joined a new group forming in my synod and that should prove to be very rewarding!

I wish each of you a Blessed Christmas and Joy-filled 2015 and hope with all my heart that our paths will cross and there will be time for a cup of coffee and a long chat when they do!

Blessed are the uncomfortable. . .

It's been a bumpy kind of ride lately - lots of things bumping into each other - ideas and events bouncing off each other like logs traveling downstream to the mill,

Shortly after I wrote my last post, a member of one of my on-line professional groups posted a rant to our network Facebook page. I can't find the original post but what stuck out to me was along the lines of "I am so sick and tired of people referring to their STUFF as blessings; as if God gave us more STUFF because we are so special. Jesus said blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are the meek, blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. . ."  It hit me right between the eyes, just as Thanksgiving approached and I was counting my blessings at the same time I bemoaned my inadequate holiday savings .

Then the Grand Jury delcined to indict the policeman in Ferguson and protests quickly escalated into riots. I didn't, and still don't know what to think or say or do about the huge and overwhelming issue of racism in my country, but I felt as if I should say SOMETHING. Dr. King's words haunt me: "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." And equally disturbing are these words from Edmund Burke: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." I am not in any way condemning the decision made; I am just deeply troubled that racial divides remain so deep 50 years after the passage of the Civil Rights Act.

Then, fortuitously, I bumped into this blessing of unknown origin but attributed to St. Francis:

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain to joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world. so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

And the blessing of God, who creates, Redeems, and Sanctifies, be upon you and all you love and pray for this day, and for evermore. Amen.

So, as Thanksgiving weekend ends, and I bid my happy and contented holiday feelings farewell and find myself tempted by the drama of self-pity as the family scatters again, I will instead give thanks for my discomfort, anger, sadness and foolish dreams. These are true blessings, and eventually I will know how to channel them. Onward through the fog - as they say 1100 Miles South!

Mulleygrubs (aka Mulligrubs)

I decided a while back to try to take this whole writing thing a little more seriously and learn how to do it a little bit better. So I pinned a lot of articles to a Pinterest board for eventual reading, and joined a couple of on-line writers' groups to help improve my writing. I'm pretty sure that all this reading hasn't improved my writing one bit, but it has brought me immense pleasure reading other people's thoughts, and in turn stimulated some new thoughts of my own. All of which is a context for what is about to follow - a post written in response to an irresistable prompt. . .

The Cure
Lying around all day
with some strange new deep blue
weekend funk, I'm not really asleep
when my sister calls
to say she's just hung up
from talking with Aunt Bertha
who is 89 and ill but managing
to take care of Uncle Frank
who is completely bed ridden.
Aunt Bert says
it's snowing there in Arkansas,
on Catfish Lane, and she hasn't been
able to walk out to their mailbox.
She's been suffering
from a bad case of the mulleygrubs.
The cure for the mulleygrubs,
she tells my sister,
is to get up and bake a cake.
If that doesn't do it, put on a red dress.

--Ginger Andrews (from Hurricane Sisters)

I have never heard of the mulleygrubs but a quick google search turns up three identical definitions for "mulligrubs" along with pictures of a band and a preschool that call themselves Mulligrubs. None of which was needed because I had already correctly inferred that the mulligrubs were "the blues."

I will confess that I have been a little blue with the early onset of ice, snow, and bone-chilling cold.  I am just not quite ready for winter, or the holidays, or the pressure I put on myself at the holidays.

I've only had my Fall wreath done for a few weeks! I want my seasons to come in neatly ordered three-month intervals, not the six-two-two-two of extreme north and south. While I'm whining and wishing, I would like my holidays spread out a little more: I need more than 30 days between Halloween and Thanksgiving and between Thanksgiving and Christmas. And since I'm rearranging the calendar, I would also like to move all the family birthdays to less populated months (except Mom's - she OWNS September!)

So to the prompt: What is my cure for the mulleygrubs? I do think that Aunt Bert is on the right track; when the mulligrubs arrive, bake a cake and if necessary, don a red dress. I have been baking (and eating) lots of banana bread. It's quick, easy, delicious and requires that I get off the couch at least three times in 90 minutes. Since wearing red tends to be a wardrobe staple for me, I have been sporting my gold and purple sequined Pashmina scarf under my purple car coat. It makes me feel exotic and warm.

I have also found a few other pursuits to keep the mulligrubs away:

• Reading: I finished reading The Aviator's Wife by Melanie Benjamin yesterday. Not always escapist, and in some places very sad, it was an engaging book that sent me searching for more information on the subjects (Ann and Charles Lindbergh) and gave me lots of room to consider the whole idea of a "fictionalized biography." 
• Silly TV: For the mulligrubs you need a special TV formula, one that's centered on the absurd.  My current absurd television watching is centered on Raising Hope. It's definitely low-brow: I love it. I love the characters, its goofy premise, the hilarious parental flashbacks, the happy daycare provider, and Cloris Leachman's unpredictable Maw-maw.
• Crafting: I'm playing with wreaths these days instead of stamping. My sewing machine seems to be humming a siren song from it's cabinet in the corner and I kind of want to try something new. 
• Lexulous/CandyCrush/Websudoku: and who am I kidding? Jungle Mahjong, various forms of Solitaire, BubbleSpin and Christmas Crunch as well. (Not sure this is good for the mulligrubs - it should actually probably be avoided when mulligrubbing.)
• Showtunes: It's difficult to stay down while singing along with Spoonful of Sugar, Hello Dolly, Matchmaker, Matchmaker or even Climb Every Mountain.
• Crockpot cooking: I have come to love my crockpot with a passion. And any day now I am going to break out the bread machine. I should probably set up a Pinterest board for the bread machine . . . then I could probably have company for dinner!

So, in a nutshell, I think the cure is to do something, anything, when the mulligrubs threaten. Doing something distracts me and helps me move past the can't-get-going burden of the mulligrubs. The list looks pretty much as it would have back in Texas, with one glaring ommision: swimming. Swimming in November is just not an option in November when one is 1100 Miles North.

Regret and Rejoice

As I shared my plans for the next few months with a group of new friends here in Blooming Prairie, one of them asked me if I ever regretted coming here. As I pondered the most diplomatic way to respond, the phrase "regret and rejoice" came to mind and I said "I regret and rejoice in that decision every single day." And I do! The scale seems perfectly balanced.

Most days there is some inconvenience that makes me wish I were back in Austin (or at least living in a city):

• The local grocery store is out of some kind of fresh produce
• I can never go anywhere without running into someone I know
• I want BRUNCH on a Sunday and the only local choices are Subway and Dairy Queen (which don't change their menus on Sundays)
• I haven't found Tex-Mex food that's up to my standards closer than the south suburbs of Minneapolis
• People are too modest to volunteer for stuff - they wait to be asked (and I don't always know who to ask)

Likewise, there isn't a day I don't rejoice in my new life because:

• People are so helpful! If my car gets stuck I will have all the help I need to push it out!
• There's a huge sense of community - when they cheer on the Blossoms they are cheering for kids they actually know.
• People work hard to preserve each other's dignity - they don't gossip, but they will privately share information that might contribute to my understanding (this one had a tough home life growing up, that one lost their job two years ago and is still trying to recover financially)
• The members of the community are entirely accountable - if they say they will do it, nothing will prevent it from getting done. They find their own subs, step up for each other, and just make it happen.
• I get to see my church kids in their context - riding their bikes past my house, playing at the park, waiting for the bus, and almost every one of them will wave when I go by!

The cost benefit analysis is endless and probably, in the end, pointless. I am here and there are things I treasure, and things that frustrate, which is exactly how I felt in Austin. And the people of both places always tip the balance to an overall good feeling.

And for those of you who read this for a taste of my small town life:

The Awesome Blossoms (coached by people from my church) are playing in the semi-finals for the state 1A Title in football tonight - against Minneapolis North. It is characteristic of this community that after seeing this video the kids formed the conclusion that even if they lose, this will have been a great game.

And, also characteristic of a small community, tonight's performance of South Pacific had to be cancelled because of tonight's game. Not because of audience drain, but because so many football players were part of the show, including the quarterback - who has an important role in the show.

After Tuesday's elections, our precinct was the last to report its results because there were 34 write-in votes in local races. I need to explore whether there's ever been a successful write-in campaign here - I'm guessing there has.

Anything is possible - I'm 1100 miles north!

Anniversary!

I have been trying to think of something profound to say as I celebrate the completion of a full year in Blooming Prairie. While I don't think I have anything profound to say, I am happy to spend a little time reflecting on the year past, and wondering a little bit about the future.

It has been quite a journey. Just for fun, here's the year in numbers:

1. One new home. I am still loving my little apartment here - it's funky and cozy and it just got a new coat of paint so it's looking kind of spiffy outside.
2. Two daughters much closer and sharing the same seasons.
3. Three visits from my mom! (Although I was only the main draw in one of those visits, I still got to see her, and since I have been to visit her twice, I have seen her five times in one year!)
4. Four different visiting individuals or groups from Texas - thank you so much! You can't imagine how much more it feels like home now that my friends have been here.
5. Five books with  my new book club. 
6. Six months of parking in the garage.
7. Seven visits with my sister (I think. . . including one lunch intersection on a road trip.)
8. Eight Sunday School classrooms prepped, staffed, and supported.
9. Nine new crock pot recipes worthy of repeating.
10. Ten kids who get get excited when they see me. . .

Some colorful ways to look at the year:

Fall - everything I'd hoped for - cool, leaves changing, apple crisp, pumpkins, small town Halloween, Reformation/Confirmation, soup, football with sweatshirts and hot chocolate. . .







Winter - everything I dreaded and more. Cold. Brutal. Harsh. Feet trapped in socks and shoes all day, every day. But also hushed, clean, sparkly, and beautiful. Baking and cooking, Christmas as it always is in my imagination. . .

Spring - filled with blossoming trees, crocus poking up through the snow, the days growing perceptibly longer. Shedding coats, jackets, sweaters and socks. And green, green grass, soft and begging for bare feet. . .

Summer - filled with festivals, food on a stick, parades, music, and picnics. The length of the days is incredible, sun rising before 6am and sunset not arriving until nearly 9pm. And sunshine nearly every day. . .

It's been a monumental change. Some days I have feared I was too old. Some days I have wondered what possessed me. But most days I have marveled at God's abiding presence, and the general goodness of people everywhere and been thankful to have landed so well. 

For those of you who have traveled through this year with me - I am grateful for your friendship and your prayers. To Janis who inspired me to look for things to love in my new place in the world - a million thanks. To my 36 new facebook friends from Blooming Prairie - I'm so glad we met!

So I'll close out this year with some words from Joni Mitchell:

And the seasons they go round and round,

And the painted ponies go up and down,

We're captive on a carousel of time. . .

We can't return, we can only look

Behind from where we came,

And go round and round and round 

In the circle game.

Heading into another trip around the circle - forward, always forward. 

Time Traveling

Well, another couple of weeks have slipped by without a post because I've been time traveling!

First stop: Luther Seminary. As most of you know, my dad was a Lutheran pastor. He studied at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN and the Luther campus is the seat of my earliest memories. At the end of June I spent a week there attending some continuing education. The campus and neighborhood had that eerie familiar/unfamiliar feeling that places get when you've been away.

Many of the people in the class came from far western North Dakota, currently the site of the next great American oil boom, and also the place where I went to first grade as my dad served his first call after seminary. Hearing about what Williston is like today and trying to integrate the descriptions of this boom town with my memories of the town we visited once a week was mind-boggling. Those conversations were little bit of time travel too!

The next stop was 1974. Pictured at the right is about one-half of the Selby (SD) High School class of 1974. It was a 40 year class reunion and hats off to organizer Ivy who pulled it all together. The weather was wet but the atmosphere warm as we wandered backwards in time and laughed at our younger selves, and then met again, almost as new friends. We are quite scattered, most of us coming from someplace else. No one's life was unmarked by experience over the past four decades:

• We've had jobs and careers, families and travel. 
• Most of us have kids. Many of us have grandchildren and one of us just became s a great-grandmother!
• All of us had lost at least one parent, and some of us spouses and siblings as well. 
• Some of us are retired, and one of us has retired and then un-retired!   

Together we remembered three who didn't live to see this reunion. Most of us had someone to visit in the nursing home (where, by the way, I had my first real job) and a surprising number of us no longer had family in town. Our high school has been demolished and replaced with a new, single-story building and classmate Kim, who recently came out of retirement to teach math there, gave us a tour that started at the kindergarten door. I heard many stories new to me since I didn't arrive until 7th grade.

Sunday morning I worshiped and was warmly welcomed at the church where I was confirmed. I was blessed to stay with my mom's good friend Vi (and my dad's former secretary) and wrap up my weekend with a buffet lunch at the Berens Cafe on Main. All in all a great weekend - except I forgot to drag Main with Deb & MariLynn!

I traveled home to Blooming Prairie for a few days of work before making the biggest time leap of all: back in time to a Fourth of July celebration of yesteryear! I've been hearing stories about Blooming Prairie's annual celebration yet I really wasn't sure what to expect. Our lovely city park was completely filled with vendors, games, a stage, and lots of people beginning Thursday night. A street dance for the adults and a teen dance at the Servicemen's Club rounded out the local celebration on the third. Friday, the Fourth, was all about the parade. I joined Pastor Heidi and her family on Main for the

spectacle. We were well down the parade route so it took some time for it to arrive but once it started it went on and on:

• Marching bands, antique cars and tractors, 
• Mayor and first lady of Blooming Prairie (to the right) who are my friends H & Jean, 
• Stix of Fury, the local drum and flag team, 
• Shriners from most of the nearby towns came in clown make-up doing great tricks on motorcycles or driving tiny cars, and 
• Mower County Sheriff's Department horse deputies were amazing.
• Princesses in flowing gowns from every area festival and pageant were pulled through town on floats.
• Most local businesses were represented with a float or an interesting vehicle and everyone threw candy to the kids. Except the dairy princesses - they threw cheese sticks!

I had a ball and at the parade and cookout afterward. Shortly before 10pm I wandered over to my friend Kari's front yard for the closest view of fireworks I've ever had - it was fabulous. I had a star-spangled 4th, reminiscent of my favorite childhood movie Pollyanna, and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience!

Zig-zagging through time and memory this month, and realizing the gifts of both, it's been interesting to reflect that most of these trips wouldn't have happened if I weren't 1100 Miles North.

Putting things off. . .

So I bit the proverbial bullet this week and went to the dentist. Some of you know that I've been putting this off for a long time . . .

Blooming Prairie may be small but we have first rate dentists. They used equipment so state-of-the-art that I had never even seen some of it before!

So I'm smiling because a) I finally started something I've been putting off for a long time and because b) I got my chipped front tooth repaired.

Some people in my circles would call this procrastination. And they would probably be right except every time I start to get cured of my procrastination it pays off again. . .

A couple of weeks ago my cousin scored a second-hand window air conditioner for my apartment.  It was raining when we got it here so we stowed it in the garage. On Friday, the warmest day we've had so far this year, I was kicking myself for putting off getting it installed.

Then there came a knock at my door. It was my landlady and she came bearing a gift: a brand new, energy efficient combination de-humidifier and air-conditioner. And she had reinforcements who got the whole unit installed in about the amount of time it took me to find and use a screwdriver to open the remote control and install the batteries.

So, dear reader, what do you put off? Or, if you are one of those git-r-done types, how do you put off the urge to put it off? Do you think it is habit? Temperament? Attitude? Fear?

Life is funny. . . As I wrote git-r-done I wasn't sure of the "proper spelling" so I googled it. (Google can be a procrastinator's very best friend!) Guess what? Comedian "Larry the Cable Guy" has a foundation called, appropriately enough, "Git-R-Done" which raises and contributes money to children's charities. Now, I'm sometimes really put off by ol' Larry's humor, but turns out we both have a soft spot for kids and hail from the Midwest. Who knew?

OK, I've put off my other reading and writing tasks for this evening so I need to stop meandering and say goodbye for now from 1100 Miles North. . . but I'll write again when I get around to it!

A Tortilla is Mexican Lefse

I couldn't believe what I was seeing! My worlds collided in the grocery store this week; I may never see this again, as long as I live, but it was a memorable moment. Lefse and tortillas sharing space in the cooler! If I had a dollar for everytime I explained lefse to someone in Texas by saying "Lefse is like a Norwegian tortilla. It's made from potatoes and rolled much thinner" I would be RICH. Now I find myself explaining about tor-tea-ahs (not tor-till-as) that they are Mexican, kind of like lefse but made from flour or corn.

It's mid-June and summer has not really begun yet. The corn is up and will likely be knee-high by the Fourth (of July) which is a good thing. Sweet corn from points south is starting to show up in the store but I'm holding out for local. This is, after all, where the Green Giant gets his corn. Just up the road in fact! The days are sunny and cool and the nights are perfect for campfires. I've been enjoying a weekly campfire worship on Wednesday nights at church, plus an occasional lazy evening around the fire ring with my neighbors, in my very own back yard. The sun stays up late (official sunset tonight is 8:53 pm) so we don't wait for dark to start a fire. Here are a few pictures from around 7pm last Wednesday:

The door you can see in the upper left side will take you into the hallway where you'll find my office. As these helpful guys built the fire, we were having VBS in classrooms up and down the hall. Parents and children have three 20-minute faith experiences together in the 6-7pm hour while the fire is being built in preparation for our campfire worship. So far it's been fun, and well-attended.

Our musicians are getting tuned up and ready to go. It's a very intergenerational evening - so far our youngest attendee has been around four months old, and our oldest (who drives himself and arrives in a sporty, red, brand-new Cadillac) is 95. The worship service is built around the FAITH5 exercises for families: Share, Read, Talk, Pray, and Bless. It's fun for all ages. 

And then, as singing and blessing wrap up our worship experience, and the sun begins to dip closer to the horizon, one last favorite summer experience remains:

In between these wonderful Wednesdays, I'm fitting in a lot of continuing education: a half-day last week, a full-day next week, and a four-day class at Luther the last week of June. I'm spending a lot of time reading ahead for the class at Luther. In addition to re-reading Almost Christian by Kenda Creasey Dean, I'm also diving into a book by Sharon Daloz Parks called Big Questions Worthy Dreams which is focused on mentoring young adults. The other two books are on Romans and are written by Terry Fretheim who will teach that section of the class. This has to be one of the biggest pluses of my move north - the density of Lutherans here allows for a lot more opportunities to refine my work skills and recharge my batteries.

I still get homesick for Texas - just seeing tortillas at the store make me long for Chuy's and Torchy's and all of you who made those meals so festive but at least my life is filled with lefse and Lutherans - these are also my people. I don't believe I'll ever stop being partly Texan, but in the meantime, I'm eating both tortillas and lefse 1100 miles north.

Excuses, excuses

Seven weeks without a post. . . time to get back to my keyboard. This last stretch has been full to overflowing nearly every week - and most of it has been about family:

• Oliver, the first member of the next generation of my family, arrived just after Easter. I am not a grandmother yet, but my sister is, (and I have envy issues.)
• My mom, now a great-grandmother, arrived about 10 days later to officially welcome the sweet young man. We spent a few days together and then on Mother's Day we left right after church to drive out to South Dakota and met him in person. She stayed on, and I came home on Monday to work.
• My sister Laurie brought her back at the end of the week and stayed over briefly before returning to her growing flock.
• Mom left for home on Tuesday, and I returned from the airport to visit with Clyde and Joyce, part of my Austin/TLLC "family". It was fun to catch up a bit and hear about their planned summer adventures.
• On Wednesday I hopped a plane Washington, DC where Gracie is clerking for a law firm this summer. She didn't start until the day after Memorial Day so we had a couple of fun days playing tourist. The Millses were great hosts and I had a wonderful time. 
• Came home on Memorial Day in time to hang out with my wonderful cousin Jane who was kind enough to pick me up from the airport and indulge me with a trip to IKEA for towel racks. (I am still getting settled. . .)
• Jane came to Blooming Prairie on Wednesday evening so we could make a surprise Koi delivery (long, convoluted, fun but irrelevant story.)
• Friday night Emily and Paul made an overnight stop on their way home from a camping trip to Yellowstone. It was brief, but oh so wonderful!
• So, those are my excuses for my long hiatus. I'll try to get back on some kind of schedule and stick with this for the full year I intended when I started.

Yesterday I attended the Blooming Prairie High School graduation and was amazed to realize that I recognized three of the four people handing out diplomas, ten of the graduates, many faces in the crowd, and probably one-third of the students in the band and the choir. I am not as much of an outsider as I sometimes think I am!

I also jumped aboard the 100 Days of Happiness project yesterday. I am tweeting @jklock228 #100happydays if you care to follow. I'm sure a substantial portion of those pictures will also show up in my blogs so if you aren't on Twitter, don't worry. This just seemed like a fun way to learn to use my camera and my Twitter accounts better - Lord knows there are plenty of things to be happy about!

One last note - the snow is gone. In fact I bought a fan on Friday because it was so warm and humid. The joke is once again on me. Saturday night brought severe thunderstorms and we now are going to have about 5 days of rain and cool temps. . .   

As I pass the one year anniversary of the personal earthquake which sent me here, I can only marvel at how God has blessed what seemed to be a devastating event. Even as I continue to miss my Austin "family",  my new/old family connections abound, 1100 Miles North.

The Growing Edge

I enjoyed two accidental discoveries this week. The first was Tiger Lilies coming up outside my bedroom window. My landlady had mentioned them to me when I moved in, but of course it was fall and they were pretty sorry looking. I didn't remember then how powerfully the signs of life impact a person after the winter is done. Walking in from the garage and spotting these on one of the first warm days this spring made my heart sing.

The second delightful discovery was a quote from a 20th century theologian whose wisdom I had not visited in a long time. Hello, Howard Thurman. You are brilliant as always!

"Look well to the growing edge. All around us worlds are dying and new worlds are being born; all around us life is dying and life is being born. The fruit ripens on the tree, the roots are silently at work in the darkness of the earth against a time when there shall be new lives, fresh blossoms, green fruit. Such is the growing edge! It is the extra breath from the exhausted lung, the one more thing to try when all else has failed, the upward reach of life when weariness closes in upon all endeavor. This is the basis of hope in moments of despair, the incentive to carry on when times are out of joint and men have lost their reason, the source of confidence when worlds crash and dreams whiten into ash. The birth of a child — life's most dramatic answer to death — this is the growing edge incarnate. Look well to the growing edge!" —Howard Thurman

Some days I feel as though I have been at the growing edge for the past 16 months. Hope and expectation have sustained me; the certainty that life is a circle, not a straight line, has kept me moving forward into the unknown. And now, as spring approaches and new life pushes up from the recently frozen dirt, I know that I was RIGHT, not just a cock-eyed optimist.  Thanks be to God!

Embedded

I went galivanting last weekend so didn't get around to blogging. I attended a shower for my niece Liesbeth. One of the best parts of being up here is being able to spend more time with various family members. It was so much fun. I felt like I already knew some of her friends from watching them interact on Facebook, but it was great to meet them, and some of my sister's friends, as well as cathcing up with members of her extended family who I have seen many times over their 30+ years of marriage. It was a lot of fun, and a road trip with my cousin Jane too.

Here's my big accomplishment from the weekend: I ran into people from Blooming Prairing in South Dakota and a) recognized them, and b) could summon up their names!!!  I have been so overwhelmed learning faces and names since I got here that this is a major milestone for me. I think it means the learning curve has finally started to level off.

Tuesday I had a thoroughly enjoyed visit from Beth and Niel Wiegand and was able to demonstrate to them that, unlike their previous visit, I can actually find my way around without having to start from either home or the church. It was great to catch up with them. I haven't been going to Rochester much since it got so cold. I guess the hints of spring are getting us all moving a bit more.

Yesterday I had my first stamp camp in Blooming Prairie. There will be an evening repeat on Monday. Here's what we made (because no event is too minor to talk about or post pictures.)

Again, it felt good because everyone who came had been here for my open house, knew the way, and where to park. And I, although almost too late, remembered to shovel the sidewalk (we got about 4 inches of wet, slushy snow on Thursday night.)

I guess you could say I am feeling "embedded". I am starting to carry this community with me when I go places, and to be one who welcomes besides being welcomed.


Tonight I will be taking kids to Mankato State Campus Ministry for a Lock-In and next week I will be at the Synod Office in Rochester for some training. Gracie and Tony will be coming for Easter. My connections are strengthening each day. I guess I've been planted and have finally put down enough roots to grow a little bit. Or maybe it's just the promise of spring talking. Whatever it is, it's worthy of celebration!

Generation to Generation

Last week at council, for the first time, the Youth Board was represented by a youth. And he did well. More than once I wanted to jump in, to introduce, to adjust expectations, to make him more comfortable but as the meeting progressed, I realized something. He was more comfortable there than I was. Everybody already knew who he was, who his folks were, and more or less his life story.

The familiarity of community can be a two-edged sword. It can create understanding and context, or it can create labels. My greatest fear, coming here, was that this would be a labeling kind of community. A community where the class clown keeps joking until one day he blows his brains out - worn out from being a caricature of the person he really is. A community where someone grows up to run for mayor and gets defeated because 30 years ago she cost the home team the game by turning in the quarterback for smoking. Or where some well-meaning business owner won't hire someone because the kid's dad embezzled money from the co-op 20 years ago.

Blessedly, this doesn't seem to be the case here. It seems that it is more in the creating context mode. I have learned some personal history here but only what I need to do my job. Much of it I have had to ask for because I have clues, but no facts. People are reticent to share anyone else's story. They really don't even share their own stories unless you ask. That's partly ethnic: say as little as possible in as few words as possible is the creed of all good Norwegians. Still, having been in communities where gossip was the chief form of entertainment, this creating context transmission of information is welcome!

The one place where people will share stories and history freely is in talking about their homes. People know who lived in their homes before them, where they worked, where they moved to, and what architectural features are specific to which former residents. I don't know the significance of this community characteristic but it plays out in funny ways. Often people will answer, if asked where they live, "in the Baxter house" or "across the street from where so-and-so used to live". This is not helpful to newcomers, but eventually these will become familiar as well.

The boy in the first paragraph? I know his dad, his grandmothers, his sister, his step-mom, some of his cousins,and his girlfriend! (Only I didn't know she was his girlfriend. . . but I know who her best friend is because they went to a youth event together recently. . . and she lives over in the Smith's old house.) OK - truthfully, I have no idea where she lives, but it's approximately 1100 miles north of Austin, TX.

Blowing in the Wind

Spring is trying to find her way to the Prairie and that means wind. As many of you know, when I lived in Texas the times I was most homesick for the mid-west were the days when the wind howled. There is more wind up here; especially where it is flat, and especially in the spring. And thank goodness because there is a lot of melted snow to dry up. (Don't get too excited for me. There are still five foot mounds of snow outside my front windows at work and at home, and we expect a little more snow this week, but the street is dry - thanks to the snow-plows and wind.)

Full Worm Moon over Lake Superior 3/16/14

Last night was a full-moon night. This particular full moon of spring is called the Full Worm Moon because this is the month when the ground thaws and the earthworms emerge, inviting the robins to return. I can't help but wonder if the wind might sing to the robins a little bit as well.

Someone told me on Friday that she was going to hang her laundry because it was warm and windy enough to dry. I love sleeping on sheets that have been dried on the line, but I have no love for the activity of hanging clothes, nor the scratchiness of clothes and towels dried this way.

The wind blew a little romance into my life this weekend (NOT WHAT YOU'RE THINKING!) My neighbors across the hall got married in a long-awaited wedding. It was a second marriage for both,with just their family on Sunday. I got involved because I helped arrange for them to use my church, which they have visited but not joined. Their families blew into town for the weekend, and blew out again this morning, but there was so much joy. The wedding cake had FINALLY written in big letters across it. It also had an adorable Leggo topper, complete with a bride and groom, much to the delight of their YMO (yours/mine/our) children who range in age from 4-20. It was sweet and happy and I was glad to have a tiny part in all of it.

Starting next Sunday I'll help the spirit blow on our fifth graders as we start their communion instruction. This was the first group of kids I met here when they were trained as acolytes in October. I was too overwhelmed. After getting used to doing this with first graders, raising the level is a challenge but fortunately this is a well-thought out and documented (one thing that has been done in stellar fashion by this congregation) program so I can follow the wisdom of leaders past. Unless the spirit blows in a few new ideas. . .

I fussed a lot about finding someone to cut my hair and ultimately found someone right here in town. She cut it beautifully and it shakes out great when the wind whips it around. It didn't fit with my plan to go to Rochester for a haircut and lunch with Beth and Niel every month, but I guess I'll just have to make a date and go without the artificial discipline of an appointment.

The one thing I wish would blow my way is some kitchen inspiration. I am very tired of my own cooking. I've been scouring Pinterest for some new ideas but nothing seems worth the effort. Wish that meant it's a good time to go on a diet but I still get hungry and then wind up eating the same old spaghetti I made last week.  And knowing that I have nothing bigger than this to worry about these days, I am very grateful to be 1100 miles north!