My Fodder's Birthday

Yesterday was a doozy of a day if there ever was one.

About 11pm Tuesday night I realized I had a sore throat, felt crummy, and my headache was changing into one that could've been bad. So I emailed my bosses and asked for the day off on Wednesday. I figured I'd go in for devotions with the CSOM students and then just come home and sleep the whole day.

Wednesday morning dawned. I rolled out of bed, bleh, bleh, bleh. Wandered to the church, thinking to myself that I'd slip out after worship.

Not so much.

By 9:30 I could see that I was in for the long haul. Students to call, emails to check, questions to answer. Even so, I thought, maybe by 10:30 I'd be able to hit the door.

Instead at 10:30 I was hitting the cupboards in the copy room with my foot, trying not to yell in frustration. A huge job I had intended to do Thursday (today) had to get moved to yesterday because Adam kindly gave the students today off.

Great for them. More Wednesday work for me. Okay, not so bad, I thought. I'll run the copies (86 pages x 30 sets), starting binding them when the copies are half way through and make calls and answer emails in the mean time.

Well, that didn't happen. 12:15 rolled around and I was setting copy set 22 on the stack to take down to the classroom. The electric binder and I did NOT get along. I can't decide if it was because I was feeling sick and had a headache that the binder and I fought, but by the fourth "book" I was binding I was hitting the cupboards. Finally I broke out the Old Faithful Binder, which I have used many a time since I was 16 years old. New Electric Binder can go in the garbage for all I care.

I triumphed and Adam and I got a good laugh out if. But I was so ready for comfort by 1:00pm. Didn't get home till 2:00. Sure, that's okay.

I curled up in the big purple chair in the living room, at some warm chili, watched The Show, and wrote.

When I got up to take a shower the day started going down hill again.

The shower was fine, but then I got out and realized that the dryer hadn't actually dried the clothes I wanted to wear. Still very wet. I ran them again, dried my hair and proceeded to straighten my hair.

It didn't go so well. My hair has gotten pretty long in the past few months and I've only straightened it twice. Right out of the shower and freshly dried it gets really fluffy and soft. Which means it just won't straighten. Took an hour- because I was half way through when I wanted to give up. Oh well. At least I was listening to delightful music on Pandora.com.

Then the computer battery died. I was too weary to go plug it in. No more music.

My dad's birthday was yesterday and my dad is as family oriented as they come. Being with him on a special occasion means more than anything to him, certainly more than a present or card. But his birthday celebration was 2 hours away in Big City. My sister had arranged for reservations at this swanky jazz club. Reservations at 8ish. He told me not to come since I felt crummy, but I just had to-- I knew how important it was.

I don't know if the dryer is broken or what, but my clothes were still wet an hour later. Abandoning those vestments I changed clothes and shoes three times. Restraightened my hair twice because it was still poufy. Used a lot of hairspray. It was 6:15 and I still hadn't done my makeup or put gas in my car.

Sister came home at 6:30pm; I begged that we could drive together, but she was driving with her best friend, whose car I just wouldn't fit in.

Resigned to a long drive feeling crummy, I finished my makeup and dashed around looking for my purse and so on. As I was leaving the bathroom, I swung the door closed--- right on my finger. OUCH! I dropped my phone on the floor and for the second time in the day was stomping my foot, this time in pain. Back into the bathroom to run my finger under cold water while trying to think of words to say that were expressive enough for the agony shooting up my finger while remaining holy. There were none, so I resorted to "OWWWWWWW!" a lot. Bethany walked down the hall and looks at me; she calmly said "Did you know you dropped your phone?"

BLAH!

I had the imprint of the door on the pad of my finger and if I was a cartoon you would've seen it throbbing in great pulses, so I begged to her to at least let the dog out before we left so I wouldn't have to put his collar on one handed. She did and then laughing quite loudly at my plight (we were both laughing, let me clarify) she left the house.

When I finally got on the road it was 6:50. My finger was still throbbing and I realized in all that time it had taken me to get ready I had forgotten to put on deodorant. Yes, this day was just going downhill fast.

One of the only good things about long drives are that it gives me lots of time to choreograph in my head. So I was driving up the freeway with my elbow propped on the middle console, hoping that no one would think I was flipping them off as I held my hand in the air (it was my middle finger that was throbbing.), and playing the same song over and over again, choreographing in my head. An hour and 45 minutes later I was pulling into Big City, repeating my sister's directions over and over in my head so I wouldn't get lost.

I was doing great. Maneuvered my way through the tight busy streets and found the jazz club, right between Davis and Everett.

And no parking.

Drove around the blocks surround the club for 10-12 minutes. Around and around and around. Almost got in an accident, and telling the Lord- loudly- "Did I tell you how much I hate this city?"

After several frustrating passes I realized that tucked on the corner right next to the club was a tiny parking garage. I parked, tried to gather myself together and walked into the jazz club.

This should tell you how often I go to places where they only let adults in. The guy at the door was just looking at me as I stumbled in, trying to pass myself off as cool and sophisticated. That act lasted about 30 seconds when my mother had to tell me to check in and I had to ask the guy what he needed-- my ID of course.

Wow.

Everything went fine for a while. The place was packed, and when I say PACKED, I mean it. I've never seen tables put so close together. And since it was a live jazz club the music was pretty loud, but not loud enough that people could talk. So there was much sign language at my table, me and my sister leaning over my dad to "talk" about the menu. My sister's poor best friend was just sitting there looking a little scared as my family- in our over-the-top- way figured out what to order.

Calm reigned for a while. We enjoyed the incredible music. The drummer was a man named Mel Brown, a famous jazz drummer who has played with Sinatra and Diana Ross (and many more I'm sure.)

I'm eating my gyros, minding my own business, when suddenly I noticed that something was wrong.

I had worn high heels with my jeans, attempting, I'm sure, to pass off as sophisticated. However, it may not have been the best move for me, because I realized that somehow my heel had gotten stuck between the floor and the table base. Stuck, as in, NOT coming out.

That was the last straw. I started laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. It was a silent laugh, because the music was still playing. My dad leaned over, wondering what was going on, and after I was able to choke it out to him, he started laughing. The information that my shoe was now stuck under the table made its way through our party, and a few seconds later we were all CRYING so hard we couldn't breathe. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed that hard. My dad almost head-butted the girl seated behind him (we were that close), because he threw his head back laughing so hard.

Meanwhile, my heel is still quite stuck. When I finally got myself pulled together, I reached down and wiggled it out.

My family and Sister's Best Friend had just composed ourselves when I reached down to my plate to pick up a french fry and instead of it making the journey to my mouth it flew out of my hand!!!! Since the tables were so packed it flung to the left and hit the girl sitting next to me in the leg.

I lost it all over again. The same process occurred once more, with one person telling another what had happened. More belly laughing, many more tears, and a lot of angry customers looking at us with deep frowns for interrupting their sophisticated experience.

Not too long after the music set ended and we were able to talk in regular tones. The stories and laughter were flying at the table; I must've worked off every calorie that was in my dinner.

We unanimously decided that my day was priceless fodder for blogging. Then, of course, my mother made a most terrible pun about my Fodder's Birthday (Father's Birthday).

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My family has been through a rough season the last several months and I can't express how healing it was to spend time together and just laugh. I still felt crummy and my headache definitely worsened, mostly because of the laughter, but it was worth every minute of my day.

So Happy Birthday, Fodder! :)

What Moves You?

Every summer my world revolves around two things: softball and The Show. In the fall it revolves around work and the holidays. In the winter it revolves around work, the holidays and dance training, and in the spring its dancing, eating, sleeping and dancing (though I think I may go to work somewhere in there).

But this fall I'm totally thrown off. The DANCE show (otherwise known as just "The Show", or to most, "So You Think You Can Dance") is playing for a 5th season-- except it already played in the summer.

It's really messing with my head and my schedule, because there is a set-summer-routine that almost always begins with me being at the Westfall's at least two nights a week for the show, usually following a softball game. (I watch, not play. Boy, that would be a disaster-and-a-half!)

That's just not feasible in the fall when things are going crazy busy.

So last night I watched part of The Show with Monique and recorded the last half. I'm NOT feeling well today, so after working this morning and some of the afternoon I headed home to curl in the armchair, eat chili and watch The Show.

I almost cried twice.
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A few years ago I was watching OPB one night and this guy I'd never heard of was starring in a concert. He sang a song and it was the first time someone's voice had ever moved me to tears. His name was Josh Groban. If you've never heard of him by now, you have to be living in a hole.

A few years ago there was this little known show and on it a runner up named Travis Wall. He has since returned to that show, which is now a REALLY known show, and has become one of the most incredible choreographers. His work is always unbelievable, but last night two dancers showcased his work wonderfully and it almost brought me to tears.
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How is it that we are creatures that can be moved to the core of who we are by various things? I am moved by music and dancing. Some are moved by a well-written book (ok, me too on that one).

What moves you?

I'd like to know. :)

And check this out: Jason and Jeanine . This is some of Travis Wall's choreography from last year. Breathtaking. And this: Remember When it Rained. Best Josh Groban song ever.

Sigh. Happy sigh.

God is in the Bathroom

Its late and I got home from a board meeting only 45 minutes ago, but I feel revived after some amazing dinner and a good- if not odd- conversation with Brandon and getting to play around on Facebook.

So I decided to take a few minutes to blog about the CSOM Fall retreat.

On Thursday the whole class took off for the coast, hours and hours of driving to get there. The houses we are blessed to use are very small with 26 or 27 people in them, but it made it even more cozy, I thought.

Thursday night was a little rough. God has been stirring the staff with a concern about unity in the school and some tough conversations were had on Thursday night between the students, hashing out what they thought could be going on or the solutions. It wasn't divisive, just thought provoking.

It prompted me the next day to keep thinking through the issue and in conversation with the rest of the staff and a few students who gave some input I finally landed on this: Unity shouldn't be equated with fellowship. Fellowship can be had without total unity (I know, I've experienced it), and I fully believe that unity can be had without spending a specific amount of time socializing and talking. Its a unique thing to the Body of Christ to be able to unite because of the Spirit. We were struggling because not only had there just not be sufficient time for there to be total comfort among the class, but we were overlapping the two subjects as if they were the same.

Through some trial and error, some tough conversations, and a lot of time spent cuddling, laughing, listening to the Word, amazing worship, good food, playing on the beach, sleeping and talking the roads were paved for some deep fellowship AND real unity.

The most blessed thing to me personally about the trip was the time I got to spend with the girls in the class. One sweet gal is bearing so many different responsibilities and burdens and you'd never know how much she feels that weight. Her gracefulness, kindness and sweetness are truly Spirit-fed because her load is heavy.

One night we sequestered ourselves in the downstairs bathroom and talked because it was the only place there weren't other people. God MET us. It was somewhat amusing to begin with , because from our Nigeria Team's time in Africa last year Michelle, Amy and I have a phrase we frequently use-- God is in the bathroom. Its true. God is even in the bathroom.

And that bathroom became a sweet, holy place of tears, conversation and love for someone who needed to be seen and heard by the Living God. That time was so precious. We often times say that one place is holy and another is not, because we, as men, have designated it so.

But God is everywhere, and as believers, His Spirit is in us. So, God is even in the bathroom and can meet us there too. (If there are any mom's out there, I think you will probably agree... though I'm not a mom, I've heard many a "God-in-the-bathroom" story before.)

Also, the Lord led the group to break up into gender-based groups after a session one night, in which one of our students shared on the Blood of Christ and how it, and it alone, makes us Children of God and changes us. But we so often don't live as sons and daughters of God.

The time spent with just ladies in the upstairs room of the girls' house was incredible. I have been doing ministry for a lot of years and have had many "girl talk" times. But this was a powerful time of sharing deep fears, insecurities, lies we believe and struggles we face that keep us from taking hold of God's truth that we are his children. And not just genderless children, but DAUGHTERS and SONS. Fashioned in His image. Bought with His blood. Powerful in His Spirit.

When we first began to talk, we were just sharing impressions about the teaching. I felt the Lord impress on me that we needed to each go around and share the lies we believed, the struggles we face, the things that keep us from embracing a life as a child of God.

WHEW! Can you imagine how I felt at that moment, facilitating this conversation with these women?! What deep and personal things for me to ask of them! I hardly even tell those things to anyone, let alone a room full of women. Let alone a room full of women whom I'm supposed to be some kind of leader for. Yikes.

It could've flopped big time. Could've killed us. But each woman and girl stepped up to offer the deep parts of their heart to the rest of us. It was unbelievable. Now, I almost always cry at anything, so telling you I cried is like telling you the sun came up. But we have some non-criers in our group and when even they were in tears and passing the tissue and sharing their lives I was overwhelmed.

But the best part came when we got all those things out on the table, so to speak, and then proceeded to declare truth into each others' lives. We singled people out to tell them the truth about themselves, per God's word and character, and share words of encouragement and love. It was incredible.

There is such power in truth. Even when we don't necessarily believe it in our emotions, truth is truth. And it is healing. We talked for three hours, with necessary breaks for M&Ms, tissues, Rice Krispy treats and hugs.

This year I didn't get sick, but practically everyone else was! :) That was an adventure and a half.

Other fun moments:

- Driving the car on the beach, with the sun roof open, blaring the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. I know, it sounds lame, but it was fun! :)

- Worship

- Watching Jer and Jordan wrestle. That was funny

- Dance circle after our final prayer

- Cuddling with Jessica! My love language is most DEFINITELY physical touch and so to have another person who is as cuddly as I am was so fun

- Michelle coming and cooking for the weekend. It was one of the most incredible, self-sacrificing things anyone has ever done for me

- Eating M&Ms, singing loud and laughing a lot with Meg on the way home

- Sleeping in, when normally at a retreat I would never be able to

Off to read some student outlines of Ezra and get ready for my Favorite Tuesday tomorrow.

Sayonara!

I have an extra blessing of getting to be at home right now instead of having to have left at 6am this morning for the Big City (which I dislike anyway) for a board secretaries conference. Don't have to be there til 1pm now. Hallelujah. I need the time!

This week has been crazy full! Lots and lots of work and preparing for the School's fall retreat on top of it all. I am unbelievably grateful for the help I've received regarding the retreat. Little things are all that are left to be done-- like try to hunt down the movie "Luther", which Adam wants to watch tonight. I've just added the movie store in Retreat Town to my cell phone contacts in hopes that I can call them later and they will tell me they have it!

I'm looking forward to this retreat so much, especially just getting to spend time with the students outside the classroom. They are such awesome people and love the Lord very much. I'm praying that God meets us in a very tangible way during our time, even though it will be cold and rainy. (What am I saying? Its always cold and rainy in Oregon this time of year!)

Enjoy your weekends, all, and I'll post pictures of the retreat when I return. That is, if I remember to charge my camera battery!

To Serve and Protect

Today I'm thinking about my friend Josh, who is overseas with the military. He and his wife KM have been involved in my church for many years, but it isn't till recently that I've gotten to really know Josh. Being so far away means he spends a lot of time Facebooking practically the whole of Calvary Chapel in order to stay updated. :) So there is much chatter back and forth, mostly teasing me on a daily basis. He has been such an encouragment in my writing and his wife and I are finding that we share many things in common.

A few weeks ago I asked Josh if he could do anything in the world what would he do? (It reveals a lot about a person when you ask that, but apparently no one does!)

Josh's responses were comical to me (because I'd like nothing better than to stay holed up in my house reading books in my sweats for the rest of my life and his answers were all active and outdoorsy and macho) but admirable as well. His responses all had something to do with defending others and countries he loves.

That's a quality I admire in many of the men I know, but today I'm specifically think of Josh today as we celebrate Veteran's Day.

Defending our country, our families, and our freedom is not just about being part of the military. It is common element across the entirety of the existence of the United States, that we, as a culture and people, have chosen to value honor, diligence, loyalty and sacrifice. The Armed Forces exemplify this for us. Choosing to set aside individual autonomy and associate themselves with a group whose primary purpose is to serve, protect and defend is something that gives me chills, even right now as I'm writing this.

Thank you to every single person who chooses to value these things and represent us to the world. The values of loyalty, truth, justice and defense on the behalf of others are found deep in the heart of God and you emulate Him in this way.

To Josh, Nicole and all the others who serve our country have a Happy Veteran's Day and thank you!

Favorite Tuesdays

I have a favorite day of the week.

It is not Friday or Saturday (though I love those days).

It is not Monday. I don't know many people who love Monday.

Nor is it even Sunday.

It is Tuesday.

I love Tuesdays.

A typical Tuesday for me begins too early for my liking, but then again, almost every day begins to early for my liking. I would stay in bed every day till 1pm if I could. I'm a snuggler.

But I get up early. With Daylight Savings Time its finally light when I waken. A few weeks ago it was infinitely harder to wake up, when the night time shadows didn't dissipate until 9am. But now its a little easier and the prospect of some CSOM coffee awaiting me helps too.

Tuesday mornings I can't work in the office because my computer is in use for accounting, so I don't even feel the slightest bit of guilt for sitting in on devotions, worship and prayer with the students. Its one of the most amazing things about the school- beginning almost every day with worship.

Coffee. Two little cream thingys. Three Splenda. Stir it up. Perfection. Somehow I always get the lid on wrong though, because 9.5 times out of 10 I spill on myself. I've begun to anticipate it. But that coffee is very good. (One of the students from last year visited this morning and he said that while John Bunyan is said to have bled the Bible if he was cut, if you cut a School of Ministry student they bleed coffee. It goes for staff too, I'm afraid.)

Adam, our director, teaches New Testament on Tuesdays. Love it. I just sit in the back and soak it in.

Then around 9:15 or a little after I take my little cup of coffee (by the way, has anyone seen my HUGE Corinthian looking mug? Its still missing, sadly...) and walk back up the gravel hill to the church. While making that trek back and forth in the gravel is a little hazardous in heels, I generally make it in one piece. I snag my guitar from the office and head up the stairs to the very quiet, very peaceful sanctuary.

The grand piano sits alone on the stage, black and gleaming. I tune my guitar and spend time getting ready to lead worship for the Women's Bible Study. Which should be translated: I get to spend half an hour singing at the top of my lungs, playing a beautiful piano or my little concert guitar in a sanctuary that echoes and makes me feel like God is just right there. Its probably my favorite part of my favorite day.

Leading worship for the women's bible study is a sweet time; I wonder sometimes if Ryan, our church worship leader, feels- on a much larger scale- the way I do Tuesday mornings. Everyone knows him, but that doesn't guarantee he knows them. These lovely women are not people I get to interact with very often, but every Tuesday I try to help usher them into God's throne room. Heavy job. Delightful job. And then somehow they know me but I don't know them... its quite amusing when people stop me in the bathroom, knowing my name and expressing they love our worship times, and I don't know their names. Something for me to work on. :)

Back to sit in for the rest of lectures or to do other fun things, and then comes the 2nd favorite time of Tuesdays-- lunch with the students and staff! An amazing couple make us meals, sometimes switching off with other volunteers... there has not been one week I haven't enjoyed Tuesday lunches, and I'm a picky eater! We all sit around this lopsided, lumpy collection of tables, arranged just so to utilize the space we have, and laugh and talk and eat till we want to burst. Sharing a meal is a great way to get to know people. I look forward to it every week.

Sometimes if we don't get so enthralled in our Tuesday lunches we try for a staff meeting, but then I head to the District till 6, delving into the crazy world of scheduling, board support, and complaint calls. I love the people I work with- today my boss called the three of us who sit closest (and talk throughout the entire day, even at inopportune times) The Trifecta. :) I always feel so confident and trusted and worthwhile at my job. Validated and able to validate. Its the best of both worlds to be in a spiritual bubble in the morning and then get a chance to shine in the world in the afternoon.

Most Tuesdays I leave work for a voice lesson, which I do only for myself. I love to sing. I love how it makes me feel, the challenge of using an intangible instrument. It pretty much caps of the best of my favorite day to spend time singing, even when I feel like I just can't conquer what I'm working on no matter how hard I try to perfect it. (Trying to get resonating power in my transitional range is NOT easy. Thus poor Voice Teacher Dan has heard "On My Own" from Les Miserables way too many times!)

And many Tuesdays end at my dad's restaurant, either by myself or with Michelle, eating yummy food, visiting with the staff and feeling a general air of contentment. Unless Michelle or I are venting... then there's less contentment, but still the same amount of enjoyment in being there.

Most of you could care less about my Tuesday-schedule-run-down, but I was realizing today as I walked up the stairs to the sanctuary with my guitar how blessed I feel. Blessing is blessing whether you feel it or not, but it is oh so precious to feel it.

Everyone has something that makes them feel content. A favorite day. A favorite activity. A favorite book or music or tradition. Don't lose those things. Life pushes people around. Its okay to push back, to revel in the moments, to chose to delight where you are. Do I always love tramping up and down the gravel hill in heels on Tuesdays in the rain? No. (I could wear boots, I guess.) But there's a reward-- that empty sanctuary.

Today Adam said something at the end of his class that reminded me of something missionary and martyr Jim Eliot communicated: Wherever you are, be all there. I took out my everything-journal and wrote it down for today, underlining massively.

I'm an anticipatory person, always looking for the next thing. Longing for dreams to be fulfilled. But Tuesdays remind me that what I have now is just as important as what I'll have next. I won't always have Favorite Tuesdays, because life will change. But while I do have Favorite Tuesdays I pray that I'll be all in them; by that I really mean that I will be "all in" this season of my life, which my Favorite Tuesdays represent.

This Tuesday evening is a special one that is much needed. I am now at home in my sweats, having eaten a warm meal, and I refuse to leave my house for any reason but an emergency. I'm worn out! But so blessed.

Wherever you are, be all there!! Have a blessed evening!

Another Blog to Follow!

Little Sister is blogging/vlogging. Love it! Check it out here and follow her!

http://sarahchristinenelson.blogspot.com