The Biggest Sigh of Relief for 2010

Grades were posted yesterday. I had a lot of anxiety about one class in particular. I received a very poor grade on my first paper for the class back in October. To not have to retake the class––which would postpone my program completion date––I needed at least a B- in the class for the semester. Anything lower than a B- would mean that the grade would not count. I would need at least a B-. With the grade I received on the first paper, I had very little wiggle room for further error.

How would I explain to family members and friends who were planning on coming out in June for graduation that I wouldn't be graduating this year. Worse, how would I console myself? It has been a long, hard, arduous three years for me. And it has for my family.

I put my nose to the grindstone. I worked diligently on my final paper. I started it four weeks before it was due. I pestered our first year TA, peppering him with questions. I typed draft after draft. Finally, the due date came. I turned it in. When I released it from my hands I realized there was no turning back. It had turned in. I wondered if I had prayed enough over it. It was no longer in my hands. I could no longer make any last revisions. It, and my fate, was in the hands of someone else.

Grades were posted yesterday. And, my grade was better than a B- for the class. The little wiggle room that I had wasn't needed. The hard work wasn't wasted and the beauty of God's grace was good. I sat. I took in my grades. I let out the biggest sigh of relief for 2010. And so did Jean. She knew how much the class had stirred in me. She was relieved for me. She was proud of me. She shared in my gladness and relief.

So, I look ahead to the remaining two semesters, 12 credits, and 174 days until graduation.

Sky High Sports

Today the kids and I EdVentured to Sky High Sports in Bellevue, WA. In preparation, I took four Ibuprofen. I should have taken more.

Sky High is an indoor trampoline place. We purchased a two hour block of time for the three of us. It was so much fun. It was fun playing tag with them, it was fun jumping and jumping high together, and it was fun watching Sam perform somersaults into the foam. A great, great day.

The Trifecta of Pepper Jellies

On Monday we spent some time at Pike's Place Market as a family. It was a great EdVenture. Before leaving, Sam and I sampled the Trifecta of Pepper Jellies. While they have many samples to try on the counter, the stand keeps these behind the counter and hands them out––perhaps so that no one burns there mouth unwittingly. Sam said that he would sample the Trifecta if I did. I think he just wanted to prove that he could handle the hot like me.

They work you up to the mother of pepper jelly––one using the dreaded "ghost pepper." The first two were tolerable. The one with the ghost pepper was very, very hot. I think Sam was hesitant to go for that last sample, but because he saw me try it, he tried it. The ladies behind the counter offered us a sample of lime jelly to reduce the fire of the ghost pepper jelly, but it wasn't enough. We quickly went to the drinking fountain and let the cold water set in our mouths for several minutes in order to put out the fire. We also inhaled the city's cold air through out mouths on the back to the car to help put out the fire.

Sam is a brave little man. He was the one who had originally told me about the ghost pepper. While we didn't sample it at its full capability because of the jelly's diluting effect, we felt the power. I was proud of Sam for his willingness and daringness––and, he was very proud of himself as well.

Moose Bed

Moose received a new bed for Christmas. It was the biggest the store had, and he can barely squeeze himself into it. I don't think he can lay his head down, but he seems to love it anyway.

In the Kitchen with Jean at Christmas

I was fortunate enough to help Jean prepare some of the Christmas Eve meal and Christmas Day meal on Friday. It is pretty rare to find us cooking in the kitchen at the same time. Normally, I cook Sundays and in the summer when I don't have class. Cooking with her was eye opening for me.

Jean has made big and delicious meals before. The most recent being Canadian Thanksgiving dinner in October. She did that meal on her own. Much of that meal was created from family recipes. Though we had feasted on those dishes before at the homes of relatives, the meal tasted better than I recall them tasting in the past. I attributed it to the love Jean had poured into creating the meal for our friends.

Christmas Eve Day I was able to see her at work. She had such a command and confidence about her. She was patiently teaching me. She was able to move from creation to creation without hesitation. She was completely at ease. It was amazing to see. It was as though transformation that has taken place in her life over the past several years into woman who is confident about her beauty and elegance was being showcased. Not showcased only as a chef, but as a woman who is assured of the beautiful goodness she has to offer the ones she loves.

A Week of Teeth, and the Karate Kid

Sunday night Sam lost a tooth, and Alina lost a tooth Monday night. But, the most interesting losing teeth story came last night.

Last night was graduation for some of the program guys at my internship. This is a monthly event at the agency as guys advance through the program. I arrived home last night about 8:15pm, and Jean and the kids arrived home from church about 8:25pm. I asked Jean how her day was––she looked exhausted. "Well," she said, "Sam knocked two teeth out of another kid's mouth when they were playing 'Karate Kid.'"

Saturday night Sam, Jean and I watched the original Karate Kid while Alina was at a sleep over. Sam has continued watching the movie throughout the week. Last night at church Sam told a boy, "I wouldn't fight me if I were you, I know karate." Of course, he only knows karate from the movie. The boy told Sam that he knows karate, too. The boy proceeded to charge Sam, face first. Sam made a blocking move with his hand to alter the direction of the kid's face. He did, and he also altered the direction of the kid's two top teeth. He knocked one out, and the other was just dangling.

Fortunately, the boy's mom was really gracious about it. She said to Sam, "I should give you his tooth-fairy money because those teeth have been loose and he wouldn't attempt to pull them out."

The View

I am doing my internship at a Men's Shelter. This was the view from my window last Wednesday morning. In the gray doorway people find a space to sleep. Somewhat removed from the elements as people walk by.

Climbing

Hikers pay top dollar to a world famous mountain climber to guide them to the top of a summit. Today, a group of would-be hikers meet their guide at the trail head before sun up. They stand nervously in the parking lot as introductions are made, and they receive their instructions for the hike. At twilight they head up the hill. They are equipped with boots, packs, a small amount of food, and water––all the equipment they will need to summit the mountain top. They hike together for the morning as the sun comes up over the mountain tops. They pass through the dense forest of trees and over streams––always steadily climbing the mountain. The weary hikers stop for a mid morning break. They eat their trail mix and drink from their water bottles. The weather is clear and sunny, but it feels brisk in the high, thin mountain air. They empty their boots of pebbles and nurse blisters and readjust their pack loads. Then, when what seems like way too soon, their guide urges them on. They must push on to reach their goal for the evening. They must continue up the trail.

Finally, early afternoon they round a bend. In front of them they see a beautiful high mountain meadow, green and lush, full of wild flowers. In the distance, at the end of the meadow nestled into the hillside is a lodge. Smoke rises from the chimney. Out on the deck appears a gray haired couple waving and shouting a “Hello” to the group. Encouraged by seeing their destination for lunch, the group quickens their pace.

Upon arriving at the lodge they soon smell the scent of fresh baked bread and fresh ground coffee brewing. They hear the crackle of a warm fire. Each hiker is greeted warmly by the kind elderly couple. They each find a comfortable chair and slip their tired feet out of their boots. They sit in front of the huge windows of the lodge with the gorgeous view of the valley below and the surrounding mountains. Shortly, a delicious meal is spread before them on the long heavy log table. Fresh baked bread and sliced meats and cheeses with all the fixings adorn the table. Hot coffee to warm them and fresh baked mountain berry pie.

Just as they are finishing the lovingly prepared meal the guide instructs them to load up. It’s time to go, if they are too make the campsite that night. The summit awaits.

A few of the hikers complained. They were tired. They wanted to stay at the lodge where it was warm, and the food was prepared for them. The guide told them, “You don’t have to go on climbing. You can stay the night here and we will pick you up on the way back.” Several group members chose to stay behind. They chose to enjoy the wonderful stories of the couple, to play checkers by the fire, to indugle in hot chocolate, and gaze at the magnificent view out the picture window. They have done enough climbing. They have gone further than most, and they will stay in the comfort of the lodge.

The rest of the group presses on for what is to be the steepest part of the climb. They are carrying overnight gear and equipment for the snow and ice covered terrain. They are weary from the day’s climb. They are above the tree line and each step becomes an effort––the air is thin. By late afternoon they must stop for a rest, and to strap on the now needed crampons to the bottom of their boots. As night begins to fall, they stop to make camp before darkness overtakes them. It is cold and windy, and then it begins to rain. Due to the wind they are unable to light their sterno cans to heat their dinner and are forced to their remaining pieces of dried fruit instead of a warm meal from their dehydrated food. Even using the “restroom” is awkward. Sleep does not come easy in the cold and howling wind, or on the hard, lumpy and stony ground. But, exhausted, they finally fall asleep.

At daybreak the next morning the group wakes. However, they are again unable to enjoy a hot meal. For breakfast they must settle for eating what trail mix they have left. They make the effort to break camp. The gear never seems to fit back into the packs the way it went in. Wearily, the group presses onward towards the summit.

They arrive to the summit, but only after a brief time at the summit, they must descend if they are to make it back to the trailhead by sundown. Cold, tired, and hungry––yet exhilarated from having reached the summit––they start the journey down.

In contrast, those that stayed behind have enjoyed the comfort of the lodge. They spent the evening visiting with one another, eating another fabulous meal, and retiring to a warm feather bed. They awoke to the smell of country bacon and pancakes. They spend the morning in leisure.

Then those in the lodge hear the rest of group approach. They have watched the hikers wind their way down from the top of the mountain. Even from a distance, echoing through the valley, they have heard the summit group laughing and joking. The group seemed to disappear as they went below tree line, but eventually the summit group emerges from the forest. Reunited, they have a brief lunch together before they are off again down the mountain. As they hike the summit group always seems to be at the front, leading the way. They are energized, alive, laughing and sharing the experience of the reaching the summit. On the way down they continue to talk about signing the summit registry, about the indescribable 360-degree view from the top. They now joke about their overnight struggles and lovingly tease one another. They have bonded together. Meanwhile, the lodge group follows, hiking in silence.

Upon reaching the cars, the lodge group feels that some how they have missed the best experience. They had chosen the feeling of personal comfort instead of pressing on to the top. They had settled for the mere feeling of hiking, content with carrying the equipment that they never had need to use.

Not all have summited, but those who have put in the extra effort have found it well worth it. Right now, I feel tired and weary from climbing. I am tired from internship and papers and reading. But, I am sure the insanity of these three years will be worth it because I have already seen the beauty of making it this far.

She Just Is

Yesterday Alina brought a larger than standard envelope home from school. There was a note inside that read:

Dear Alina and Parents, Congratulations! Because you have demonstrated leadership with your positive attitude and good choices, I am excited to tell you that Alina has been selected to be one of six narrators for this year's PreK, K, 1st Grade Christmas Chapels. One boy and one girl were chosen from each of the first grade classes . . .

The note, attached to her script, goes on to describe the practice requirements that come along with the privilege. Besides lots of practicing at home, she has to miss lunch recess Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. When I informed Alina of that requirement she sweetly replied, "That's alright."

I did my best to explain that she was seen as the girl with the best attitudes in her first grade class. I don't think it phased her. The character that was described in the note is just who she is and she will continue to be that way. She doesn't try to be that way. She just is.

Smell Like a Monster

This spoof of the Old Spice ad is hilarious!

Being Perfect

When I move my right thumb, it pops. Last night when I was sitting on Alina's bed to say goodnight, she asked, "Why do your fingers make noise?" I told her that I was old and creaky. She said, "You're not old and creaky, you're perfect," then she pulled me close.

In telling me I was perfect she wasn't telling me I was without fault, she was telling me that she loves me in spite of my faults. She made me tear up that she loves my despite who I am. Her love is perfect love.

Feasting Day

We are celebrating one of our favorite holidays, a few days early, today––Canadian Thanksgiving. Canadian Thanksgiving is actually Monday, but tonight we are inviting a few friends over to enjoy the great day with a great feast.

Broken Glass

Thursday I left internship about 90 minutes early under the umbrella of "self-care." I had been at internship for 11 hours and fifteen minutes the day before due to the graduation celebration. Knowing that I was leaving early, I had scheduled an inspection for 6pm that was located north of the city. Leaving early would also help me beat the 5 o'clock traffic. It had been a good day of great counseling.

As I walked to my car, I noticed an envelope on my windshield. As I got closer, I noticed my driver's side door glass was smashed. I park in parking garage. I always park way down. It's not a huge parking garage, so I was probably twenty spaces away from the entrance. My rationalism for parking where I do is that anyone who might try to vandalize or steal would do so closer to the entrance for a quick get away. I was wrong.

The envelope on the windshield was from the police department. Inside the envelope was a note from a police officer saying that the lot attendant noticed the car prowl at 1300 hours. There was so much glass on the driver's seat. So much. There was also a pile of glass that had been swept neatly into a 30"x3"x3" heap. Because of the amount of glass, I don't think it was just my car that was burglarized. At first it didn't look like anything was taken. The console was open, but I never keep anything in it. The envelope holding the registrations and insurance info, along with the car's manuals, from the glove box were on the floor. I don't keep anything of value in the glove box. They didn't take my phone's earpiece. They didn't take my Marmott rain-jacket. They didn't even take a gift card that I had on the front seat that was sitting on top of some books.

It surprised me someone would want to break into my car. It has never had a radio––it has a factory Toyota faceplate where a radio is supposed to go. The care is about as basic as you can get.

As I was driving north on I-90, with glass continuing to fall in as I was sitting on a tarp from the trunk to save my backside from broken glass, I realized they did get my camera that I was needing for the inspection. Fortunately, Alina let me borrow her camera. As I was downloading photos from my inspection, these were a few of the photos on her camera. She made me smile.

How Not to Be a Friend

My previous post told how to be a friend. In this country song, the guy is trying to be a friend, but falls short. You just don't tell someone, "Sounds like life... You've got to suck it up." That isn't how you jump in the stew of life with/for someone.

How to Be a Friend

Our neighbors are in the process of finding a home for their dog Margaret. Margaret is a huge, old, Basset Hound. Lorelei, our neighbors' daughter, woke up Margaret and Margaret bit her on the lip. Margaret hasn't lived there since biting Lorelei, but the decision was made that Margaret can't come back home. Margaret has been staying at Lorelei's grandma's.

Today Lorelei came over just to say "hi" to Alina, but didn't want to stay and play. After telling us that they would be finding a new home for Margaret, she refused to cry. I could see her forcing herself not to. She said that she just wanted to go back home. As she was leaving, Alina said, "You can come to my room and color a picture of Margaret if you want to." Lorelei said, "I think I'll stay."

Alina is such a sweet friend, and did what every friend should do when there is heartache. She didn't try and ignore it or chance the subject. She didn't tell Lorelei that everything would be okay. Alina didn't talk about what a good dog, or bad dog, Margaret was. She simply walked with her friend gently into the pain.

Many of us have been told to get over our pain. Many of us have been told to "suck it up." How often have we longed for a friend that would just be with us during the hurt and sadness? That is how the healing happens.

Theology Meets Football

Yes, it's terrible. Yet, it's hilarious!

Pulleys

As mentioned in another post, I hadn't been riding very much. But, as of late I have been able to get out to mountain bike once or twice per week. The few times when I did get out last year I noticed that when I would put some additional pressure and torque on the pedals there would be a little rear gear slippage. As I have been riding more over the last few weeks the slipping had become bad, beyond something I could comfortably ignore. I had been trying to remedy the situation by making small cable adjustments on the fly. That was no longer working either.

While we were still living in Grand Rapids I had the courage to begin wrenching my bike myself. The time that it would take a bike ship mechanic to fix it, as well as the cost, made it worth it to fix it myself. The Park Tool repair site became a great companion.

For this problem with the slipping gears I took a good, hard look at the rear deraileur. The rear deraileur still seemed to have good spring tension. This was a financial relief because a rear deraileur that is constructed to withstand the dirt, consistent shifting, and beating of hard mountain biking can be anywhere between $129 and $275. My hunch was that the two rear deraileur pulleys were worn. Upon further examination, the pulleys were worn to the point where they looked like pulley in the middle. Now, one would think that is what you would want your pulley to look like. One would guess that the star points and groove would make a great place for the bike chain to ease into for the ride around the pulley. But, that isn't the case at all. The points––called shark toothing, which can also happen on your front chain rings as well as they wear–– actually cause slipping because there is little surface area taking up the gap in the chain's link. So, I went to my local Performance Bike store in Seattle, and bought a package of two Fortè pulleys. I used my 3mm hex wrench to remove the old and pulleys and had the two new pulleys installed within a matter of minutes. I rode it hard last Monday and again Saturday with Sam. No slipping. Shifting was as smooth as silk, making for a great, worry-free ride.

Lucky Them

"Lucky them." At (Re)Orientation, that phrase was used to describe a MHGS family. The student was preparing for her internship. She, along with her husband and kids, would have to leave their church community in order for her to do her internship at a new church. "Lucky them" was used because they got to experience the heartache of their calling.

Many students have left a community to come to MHGS. Our family experienced the (mis)fortune of leaving community in order to come to Seattle. That continues to be heart wrenching. We miss those relationships terribly. But, after two years we are finally stepping into community here. We have been invited to dinner so many times in the last couple of months. We have been lucky to enter heartache with those we've come to know here.

And, then there is the Lucky Me of my internship. I have heard so many hard, tragic stories. I don't want to just show up at internship and hope someone comes to my office. I have been intentional since the first day of being in community with them. I stepped out my comfort zone and go to the cafeteria with them instead of eating a sack lunch alone in my office. I go to community group with them. I greet them at the beginning of the day and throughout the day with a handshake and a "glad to see you." I walk through the building and talk to the guys. When I graduate I want to be in community with people. I don't just want an office and see people once a week. I want to do life with people.

In return for doing my internship this way, I hear the tragic stories. It has been hard to leave those stories behind. I bring them home and suffer with them. Many students and professors have said that I need to care for myself and learn to leave them at my internship site. Yes, but. But, being in community causes me to carry stories with me, and carrying those stories is part of being human. Lucky me! And I mean that with all my heart. There is no place I would rather be doing my internship. I love the people that I am suffering with.

Giving Up Icy Yummy Goodness?

I think I may be giving up Icy Yummy Goodness. Well, at least store bought. It just doesn't taste good any more. I have fallen in love with Jean's homemade ice cream. My delicate palate just can't go back. Store ice cream has become blah and tasteless. Jean's ice cream has spoiled me. It's so delicious!

Sextant

The sextant is a tool used in navigation. I am a self-declared cartographer and an explorer. At (Re)Orientation, our school's president talked about how a sextant's user looked to the heavens in order to orient him or herself to the earth. It is a great metaphor. How do I look to God to orient myself to the world around me?