conclusions and new starts

I watched the Olympic torch go out tonight. It was a bittersweet moment.
Some are eager to get back to the 'real" NBC lineup.
For me, I love the Olympics.
Nice work, Canada: Vancouver, Whistler, and Richmond.
You will be missed.
And to all the athletes
who pursued their dreams and trained to compete,
be proud.
I am.
May the spirit of good sportsmanship,
and the heart of these interactions,
lead us on toward something better in the world.
I know I love this admonishment
from the ancient text of Hebrews:
Let us consider how we may spur one another on
toward love and good deeds.
That is another thing to pursue and train toward.
I hope we can live out that kind of love
whether or not we are in an athletic competition.

But then again, maybe not

As B left for work today,
he asked me to drop off some dry cleaning.
This simple request launched a period of brain synapses
(or something) that reminded me
I never drycleaned my wedding dress.
So I grabbed it from the closet and packed it in the car.

This is all a rather mundane story
(perhaps even worthy of the dullest blog in the world material). The mundane ended, however,
when they informed me they charge $150
to dry clean and press my dress.
Seriously? How did I not know this.
Call me crazy, I was thinking more around $50. But three times that amount??
Perhaps you suspected this,
but my lovely dress found its way
back into my car
and is now happily hanging
back in the bag in the closet.
Back to the mundane...

Unless, of course, you have suggestions
on a different way to clean my dress.

Oh, one more thing, the dullest blog is really worth a read.
But the find goes to my friend Sabrina.
Thanks for the heads up, lady!

One last thing, the picture credit here is to Jewels! You should check out her work because it is fabulous.

Celebrating Winerva Joanne Van Roekel Klungel aka My Mom!!

So, if my Mom was 39 when I was born,
and now I'm forty,
and today is her birthday that makes her...

amazingly young at heart. The first photo

(with Carmen, her girls, me, and Grandma, Mom's mom)
is from seven years ago


and Mom hasn't changed a bit.
God granted her incredible energy and health.
What a thing to celebrate!!
Happy, happy, happy birthday my beloved Mom.

some of our favorite things

In the hope of
days to come,

In the memory of
wonderful events
of "oh-nine,"


I am celebrating
some of the things

we hosted and
some of the things

we like to do.
We love having company.


We love games.
And especially,
we love playing twister.

On bonus days,
sometimes we have guests
AND play twister.


I know,
Fun overload. :)

in the category of...oblivion and gratitude

So, as I have mentioned, my husband and I live in Indiana. But I also live and work in Michigan. Yes. We sometimes choose complexity in this life, I know. Without regurgitating all the detail, some of the motivation revolved around me completing my grad school work and receiving a substantial discount through my employer, the University where I received my Master's degree. Which leads me to my weekly commute and married life where I spend my weekends with my family in Indiana, naturally!

Recently B scheduled a work trip. Although the thought of joining him in Texas in February whilst one winters (ha!) where we do in Michiana tempted me, the idea of hanging with my girlfriends in Michigan captured me more. So the plans were made...
I anticipated hanging out with my friend Beth for some long awaited time at Karla's. I scheduled time with other girlfriends for later in the weekend. It was like the anticipation of vacation, I'm telling you. I was delighted for the opportunity to have these moments with some precious friends.

And Karla's phone call did not deter me. She mentioned that she and the kids had experienced the flu. Her doctor assured her they would not be contagious after 24 hours sans-puking. And so our anticipated arrival at about 48 hours later provided us double precaution. Not to mention, anyone who knows Karla knows she keeps a very clean and tidy house so germs wouldn't have much a chance. Without hesitation I answered her question about whether I still wanted to come with a confident Yes! Who knew when the "stars would align" for me to make these plans again?

Now Beth, well, she did not have the luxury of saying, "I'll take a sick day if i get sick." Understandably, she leaves for Florida soon and needs to save up those days. So she rescheduled with Karla.

Sad, but resilient, I trekked north. And aside from missing Beth, had a blast. Karla's kids are always fun and always lively and the opportunity to talk late into the night with such a dear friend is priceless.

Phase two meant packing up and heading back to my house in Michigan where friends and my sister, Hildred, descended upon my lovely roommate, to share food, laughter, tears, and who knows what else for the rest of the weekend. We combined leftovers for a delicious meal, witty conversation, and God's inspired "communion of the saints" as we communicated about the things on our hearts and lives.

That is until my stomach began a now-familiar bout of discomfort.
And well, let's just say, by the time we all attempted to settle for sleep, the party in my stomach began and everyone else quickly hit the road.
Oh, not totally. My sister, Hildred, she took care of me. I haven't been that sick in years. Twelve, I think, if memory serves correctly.
And my Shirley friends, well, they provided the necessary nourishment and hydration that a sick "puppy" like myself would need.
They offered more than cups of cold water, although, really, cold ice chips is literally all I could stomach.

How crazy is it, to be here now, a couple days later, sipping on soup, my first "real" meal in days, with a settled stomach, actually thinking food might taste and smell good once again.
It is more than enough to say, "Oh Lord, please forgive me for taking my health for granted. Every moment of peace within the body is a gift from you. Thank you Lord."

"Oldie" but "goodie"

I heard a Christmas song today that I remember from childhood.
The version I heard is of a little girl singing first, followed by a choir,
and then ending with the young girl.
It is sweet.
But mostly, the words are the desire of my heart
to reflect on this week, especially.

Maybe you'll remember it as you browse these lyrics:


Happy Birthday Jesus.
I'm so glad it's Christmas.
All the tinsel and lights,
and the presents are nice
but the real gift is you.

Happy birthday Jesus!
I'm so glad it's Christmas!
All the carols and bells
make the holiday swell
but it's all about you.

Happy birthday Jesus...Jesus I love you.
*repeat*

Happy Birthday Jesus!
I love you!

Oh Dove, why did you have to change?

Nearly a year ago, I wrote a post about the messages on Dove candies.

I'm excited to report, this year Dove has a new candy
--peppermint bark with dark Dove chocolate.
They join the rank of favorite Christmas candy. Delicious. I love them.

I eagerly and carefully unwrapped my first one,
anticipating my "Dove promise" written on the inside of the foil.
I nearly choked and
spit up the chocolate (forgive me, people)
because the promises are now
Martha Stewart Holiday tips???? Really?
Here is one of the tips:
Parsnips and brussels sprouts are hearty seasonal sides. (I guess I learned it is brussels sprouts and not brussel sprouts.)

Really, Martha?
Really, Dove? That is a holiday promise I needed to know??

Some good things really don't need to change. Sigh.

I'll be back.
To share more significant things than
my feelings about Dove promises.
Really.

My Master's program final thesis
project paper is due in two days.
Two.Days.

Some of my intentions for my "post-Grad school" time?
Read a book. Any book of my choice. Because I can. Because I want to.
Ooooooh, the luxury.

Finish wedding thank yous.
Yes. You may receive yours.

And Blog.
Oh to write for something other than an assignment.

Oh, AND, download photos. I have over 1200 on my little camera. Over 600 that I have not downloaded yet.

So...life will resume. And I'll be back.

Difference of seven

God never ceases to amaze me. I am not suggesting that I have God figured out. But I am continually wowed by the splendor and sweetness of the way God moves. Here is one latest story.

My husband received his walking papers from work unexpectedly on December 30, 2008. As September hit the top page of the calendar, we could not believe it was the start of the ninth month of unemployment. Perhaps like me you know several people who are unemployed. I personally spend time in two of the states that lead the nation in unemployment. It is a time unfamiliar to most of us as lately, too frequently, we watch despair and fear walk into people's homes and lives and camp out there as people wonder (and worry) about provision, food, shelter, etc. Yet, in comparison to other parts of the world, in terms of real poverty, the United States really does not compete. Despite our current economy we are a wealthy nation.

And so, we too, have participated in the gruel of searching for work. It requires energy that one may not realize. There are systems and theories and ideas for how to network and land interviews which will then secure positions. B has pursued those strategies. He secured several interviews and had great contacts. He worked and reworked his networking options. And still nothing landed. Sometimes he even had an inside edge with influential people who make recommendations. At the end of the day though, no jobs offers were extended. This hope and release, hope and despair, expectation and rejection cycle takes its toll.

One of his interviews allowed him to interact with someone whom he previously worked with. The position he was interviewing for would report to that person (let's call him Bob). In the conversation after the interview, Bob said to B, you really are not suited for this position. You would be better suited for my position. I'm actually in the running for a job elsewhere. If I secure that position, I will recommend you as my replacement.

B received this with a grain of salt, because obviously there were so many elements outside of his control, much less, so many pieces that needed to fall into place.
True to his word, Bob called the day after Labor Day to communicate he was leaving. If B would email his resume, he would put in the word to his boss.

Two days later, B was called for an interview.
One day after that, he interviewed.
Mid interview, they offered him the job.
He started the job two days later, seven days after Bob contacted him.

What a delightful provision of the Lord. We are grateful. We did not really see it coming and are rejoicing in these moments of seeing the Lord move in mysterious and marvelous ways. That is NOT to say we did not see God move in mysterious and marvelous ways during this season of unemployment. But those stories, they are for a different post.
In the meantime, stayed tuned. You never know what the next seven might surface as God works out His good and perfect plans.

Hiatus

Hello blogging world.

I'm venturing back in.
It's been two months. I got married. I moved (in part). School started again a few weeks ago. Hours increased at my work.
Life.Is.Busy.

Tonight I face an hour or so more of work and then I journey home. That is, to my weekday home while I live in Michigan. Straddling the border twice weekly adds to the craziness. For tonight, however, the focus is settling into the school time routine, (along with most of the western side of Michigan as most elementary and high schools started classes today). Homework beckons. Sleep summons. Relationships hibernate. I'm grateful for the routine even if I miss regular interaction with friends, not to mention, the freedom to read something for pure pleasure or particular interest.'Tis all part of the school season.


I'm glad only 15 weeks remain--what a sweet and life-changing journey I'm on!

(Hmmm, I've been trying for days to upload a photo but keep getting an error message. I'll post for now and perhaps add a photo later.)

preparation

Four days from now, the wedding event of Diana Klungel and Barkley Garrett will commence. (Woot!!!) In comparing our preparation journey to others, our engagement and wedding planning is relatively short (of course the stories of exception are out there). I hope and pray the wedding is beautiful, that God is glorified, and that people have fun.

But really, way more important than this one day, is our marriage. That is what we've been preparing for. In the "greater" event of our marriage, I hope we come to understand and experience even more fully the love of God, and that through that, we offer and extend that love even more fully to others.

So that is my hope and prayer: that beyond the fun planning of a wedding, that the greater gift of the day is how we bless and honor God through our marriage.
I hope it all brings God glory.

711 on my mind

I'm getting married. And the wedding is creeping ever closer. It actually jumped into view because we changed our original plans.

Here's the scoop: I don't know how to describe this process except to say that I am not the girl who had her whole wedding planned at 13 (or 17, or 21 or...)This lack of expectations leads to freedom but it also demands a need for some rapid fire decisions. I'm a full-time graduate student who also works full time. I have 11 weeks "off" from school for summer. Our plans were to get married this very summer. August seemed about right.

That is, until we started investigating our projected date with my family. And that's when my planning hit the wall of my sister's reality. Her response to whether or not she could make the date was a profound "No!" Although, she assured me that she could watch a video.

Even though I had not pre- planned the wedding, the idea of my sister watching the video and not attending this blessed event caused me to cry. Oh, and her excuse, did I mention, is completely legitimate. She is pregnant and at that time it would be too high risk for her to travel.

Needless to say, we scrambled around for a different option. And because of some other travel commitments and other factors along the way, we arrived a month sooner with a new date of July 11.

So yes, much planning ensues. Most of the essentials are planned and well in view for which I'm extremely grateful. Phew!

Truthfully, even though six weeks seems pretty hectic to plan an event, I don't know if I would have wanted it much longer. Today marks 18 days. 18 days!!!

Given that reality, even though I have stories galore within my head and ponderings on my heart, I probably will be silent a few more weeks. Check back if you care!!

Photo credit: Hildred...and yes, that is a napkin ring!! :)

credit

This is my third annual interview day--a long day at work. We conduct interviews for prospective students in our Master's of Arts in Counseling program. They enter the office waiting area usually a bit nervous, unsure of what to expect. We ask them to arrive early to handle any outstanding paperwork. Waiting manifests either as a gift to slow down, collect one's self and pray, or it can increase agitation and anxiety. It is our desire to offer God's peace to those who enter this place.

We also serve those who conduct the interviews. They arrive early from our main campus a few hours away. Our "tradition" is to provide some sustenance in terms of food and drink so we order a light spread from Panera including bagels and egg souffles, some fruit. We provide water and coffee if they wish. We want them to experience God's peace as well.

Today I picked up the food items and as I set them out, I realized I did not receive my entire order. It was not a huge deal, as it was just a few bagels, but I called to let them know. Immediately they connected me to the manager who proceeded to apologize and respond with options for how they could take care of us.
Let me tell you, they went above and beyond as they not only delivered the items that were missing, they also delivered additional bagels and coffee. They earned my respect as a customer to ensure that I would continue to patronize their business. That signals great customer service.

Here's what I wonder...
what would happen if this were more personal? Let's say a friend of mine promised something, but it didn't happen. Or, how about considering our relationship with God. What happens when we don't follow thru on a promise to God? Certainly we don't look at God as a customer that we need to "win" back. But if trust is broken, how are repairs made? When someone lets you down, how do you work to reestablish trust and rebuild a relationship? Ultimately I wonder, how do we practice forgiveness in such a way that reconciliation becomes part of our natural rhythm of life?
I know this, it's much easier for me to take the coffee, eat a bagel, and consider things "good" with Panera. Somehow God extends that grace to us. But how do we receive that, and live it by dispensing it in our relationships with others?

garage incident gratitude

Here I was, backing out of B's garage for a baseball game.
When, well, I noticed things flying.

On the side of the garage where I had parked rests a stack of shingles. And on top of that stack is a pile of wire and plastic grid-like sheets. The kind that when you put them all together, you can make a bunch of cube shelving pieces. Anyway, the things that were flying were these grid-like sheets of wire and plastic. Apparently I turned too sharply and they caught on my bumper.

My entire bumper except a piece or two on the driver's side was hanging off my car. I was so groaning, and so calculating the repair bill into the thousands. Again. Previous body work on my car when my car transformed into the driver less, horseless carriage (some may recall when my car rolled down a hill across a business driveway/intersection, halted abruptly and not-so-gently by a guardrail which stopped it from rolling into a gas station, all because I forgot to put on my emergency break when I met my boss for coffee at a local coffee shop), maxed at around $4k! $4k--for a driver less collision. (This was pre-blogging, apparently, as I searched for the story now and can't find it. Circa November 2005.)
Money spent on the same very bumper that now was dangling like a child's loose tooth, the major difference being I didn't want someone to yank the bumper to unattach it like a kid might want someone to do with their loose tooth.

My one regret in telling you all of this is that I did not take before and after photos. But this very morning, my love B, removed what was left dangling, took every loose piece apart, and reattached the bumper to my now happy Honda Civic coupe. If I hadn't revealed this garage incident to you just now, and you saw my sweet little ride cruising down the road, you wouldn't know.
That's how good it looks.
And that's how good B is.
Yep. I'm all shades of grateful!!

breaking up is hard to do

Not to be pessimistic, but it was probably the last time for such an occasion.
It's not that it's over, but really,
It IS over, in the way we knew it.

We met at His Mansion Ministries in the mid and late 90's. We all happened to locate (returning from some) in West Michigan. Hoping to hold on to some of the accountability and community strong practices from the Mansion, we committed to meet weekly. And we did. For breakfast. At 6:00 or 6:30a every week.
That is, until things started to dissolve. K & K got married and moved to Minnesota to complete their undergrad degrees. Our circle was broken. The breakfast meetings discontinued.
But then, K & K moved back.

Their journey of having kids--beautiful quads who arrived early--enveloped all of us as we visited in the hospital and then at their home. We started meeting Monday nights for our "small group" of dinner and conversation. Those nights expanded to include other "mansionites" as John was around, Teresa, Darrell, Rachel, and even Stephanie would occasionally join us. It was a sweet place of grounding, fellowship, and intentionally sharing our lives together. Mind you, it wasn't intimate spiritual conversations at all times. I remember one night where we programmed individual ring tones on our phones. Deep stuff. :) But the regularity and intentionality of meeting together in this space did continue to shape and form bonds between us and allow us to see how God was working in each other's lives. For this I am extremely grateful.

But then K & K moved again, and the group dissolved.

These seasons of friendship and community are such a gift. The above photo marks the "original" group as we met recently to celebrate a transition for Bonnie. She's moving...
and I'm happy for her to return to Colorado. But I will dearly miss this beloved friend. You are always welcome back, BB!! I'm so glad for the chance to have journeyed with you in this way.

I spy...

Nancy Drew rarely enters my mind. Until recently when my sister asked me what Nancy Drew character I used to portray. (I love that her daughter, my niece Kate is reading Nancy Drew like crazy. The great mysteries continue!)

We "played" Nancy Drew constantly. We solved all sorts of imaginative mysteries as Nancy Drew. It was my sister, Carmen, myself, and our friend Christine, mostly. Sometimes Christine was given the boot when our neighbor's niece, Tiffany, was in town. (Tiffany might have landed in the "bossy-pushy" category.)We figure Carmen was Nancy, Christine was Jo, and I was Bess.
But really, we don't remember too much specifically about what character we played.
I do remember the schemes and the seeming hours of running, hiding, discovering, and sleuthing all through the neighborhood. We were good.

This spurred on several others mystery type loves in my life. Of course, the Hardy Boys was a natural next step, not to mention Remington Steele, and Moonlighting. (Does anyone remember Bruce Willis and Cybil Shepherd in Moonlighting?) I loved those dramas.

I navigated toward similar reading--Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum, and the like. I loved James Bond and the Bourne movies, just to name a few.
And then, there came Alias.
A bit of me wanted to be Sydney Bristol, I confess. *Sigh*

I say all of that to say that a spy's life would not suit the needs of my heart and spirit, but everyone once in a while, I still imagine a romantic view of such an occupation.

Any other "wanna be's" out there?

Poverty redefined

Tims are tough. We know that. The unemployment rate is discussed at least once a day if not more frequently. Budgets require tightening. Lifestyles as we've come to know them in the western world, in particular, are changing and in some cases dramatically.
Times are tough, but do we really know poor? Do we really know sacrifice?
Are we really aware of the richness and absolute wealth that we've become so accustomed to?

This "guest post" from a friend of mine causes me to rethink what I know and consider a different perspective. See what you think.

NO ROOM IN THE INN

A Reflection

On Sunday morning before church, I got a call about a baby: a girl, seven months old, young mother, very poor, unable to care for the baby . . . “Can you help?” I agreed to meet with the persons involved today, Tuesday.The baby was brought in from her remote, mountain home. I sat down in a middle-class living room here in the city with the mother, the baby, the mother’s employer and her two children, the mother’s employer’s sister and mother, and two of my teenagers.

The mother of the baby is twenty-two years old, and she works as a house servant in the home of two young professionals and their two children. They pay her one hundred dollars per month, which is less than half the legal minimum wage in Honduras. She is a live-in maid, and is given two days off every fifteen days to go home and see her siblings and baby, who live several hours away. Both of this young woman’s parents are dead. In a household of eight, she is the only one with employment. Everyone depends upon her $100/month for food and education. For her family, her pregnancy meant another hungry child, and for her employer, it was an unwelcome intrusion.

I had been called by the employer’s mother, whom I have known for many years. On the phone, she described the baby as being in desperate straits, and the mother eager to have someone care for her. In reality, I saw a young woman who dearly wanted to care for her baby, but without a single voice in her favor. Her employer had just miscarried. I asked this woman, “Can’t you take care of the baby here?” It seemed like the logical, merciful solution. The mother could keep her little girl and continue working.

“Oh, no!” this young woman replied. “My husband would never agree to that. And besides, we don’t have enough room.” I thought of the closed doors in Bethlehem the night Jesus was born. I thought of the miscarried baby who certainly would have had a special place prepared in this same home for his/her arrival.

But not this child. This child was a problem, an obstacle which needed to be removed. They would do “the right thing.” They would call Suzy, and she would make the problem go away. Their servant could get back to work, and they could get on with their lives.

I took the baby, because no child should grow up where he or she is not wanted. The mother wept. The woman who called me held her and said all would be well. And I’m sitting up, thinking about a world in which there is often, even today, no room in the inn.

"Give me the presence or I die!"

Last weekend at the retreat center, the room I stayed in was called "Beth-el" -the dwelling of God.

As I read and prayed and slept in that room, I felt the blessing of God's presence melting my crust, drawing out the core of what is true about me, that I am God's beloved daughter. So much else in life tries to define my identity. But that piece, my core role as God's beloved is true no matter what.

In addition to a welcome space to rest, my room had some great resources to help guide my retreat time. One of them was the following passage which completely resonated with my heart and my desperation for retreating.

Let me know you think!

There is a practice of the presence of God
which is done on the run in the busiest of days,
in office, and schoolroom and kitchen.
Little prayers and communion;
ejaculations of surrender & joy and exaltation;
if it didn't sound silly to say it,
little snugglings of our soul moving nearer to God.
Most of our lives can be lived this way,
as divine conversation of our soul with God,
going on behind the scenes all the time.

But then come crucial periods in life
when the quest grows hot,
when the hot breath of the Hound of Heaven is at our heels,
when the heart cries out,
"Give me the Presence or I die!"

And these are the times when we get
beneath the conventional mildness of average religiosity
and find Him more fully, who is dearer than life itself.
From these women and mean will come the profound return to religion,
ie, the love of God and neighbor,
which is so desperately needed."

-Thomas Kelly The Eternal Promise (1938)

It's time

I'm not sure how to explain how ridiculous this is. But I realized, my margins had expired. I needed space. Me, the off the charts extrovert, needs space away. The trigger that signaled the ridiculous? I had an exchange with one of our beloved faculty here in GR and felt personally slammed because she criticized the candy options in my candy jar. Yes. How that seemed so personal, I can't begin to explain. I realize, it sounds and IS ridiculous.

And so, for that, and other reasons, I'm retreating.
Just writing the word slows the exhale.

I know that my blog writing may seem to indicate that I've been retreating frequently. But it's much the opposite. Life, work, everything has been quite crazy.

Some might know that B's Mom died unexpectedly a little over a week ago. So I accompanied him on the trip to and from family for the funeral. It was long. It had moments of much tension. It also was a place of laughter and release. I wouldn't trade the experience, but the time was not what I "planned." Unavoidably, it "bled" into other schedules including work and school. And so, my soul is aching for alone time with Jesus.

I'm excited to unplug.

Blessed Easter to you!

lessons learned

It goes without saying that it was NOT the reaction I hoped for. If I've relayed this story before, please forgive me.

Here is the scenario: it was a gym class day and I had forgotten my tennis shoes. You know the rule. Have a pair of shoes specifically kept to wear inside a gym, not worn in the street, in order to protect the gym floor's surface. I felt confident that it didn't matter that I had forgotten my shoes.
Although my situation appeared grave on the surface, I had an ace in the hole.

he he he.
I confidently dashed away from the elementary school area and ventured into the high school, boldly going where few students had gone before, and even fewer students live to talk about (ok, yes, mild exaggeration), I stepped into the teacher's lounge, scaled the crowd of mingling teachers and called out, "Mom?"
It was quite a disappointment, after all that, to retreat to my gym class, already in progress, and report that "yes, I had found my Mother," but, "No, she was not going to go home to retrieve my gym shoes and bring them to school for my use."
My forgetfulness demanded that I suffer the consequences. My mom did not bail me out.

Needless to say, I don't think I ever forgot my gym shoes again.
'Twas a good lesson, Mom. Thanks for your tough love!

alignment

This was the prayer of "my" Lenten devotional for today. I hope it ministers to you and blesses God!

Father, you are all around and in me, walking in
my garden, shining in the sun, singing in the birds,
behind the face of every man and woman I meet,
and lying down with me at night.

Jesus, you are all around and in me, walking in my
garden, shining in the sun, singing in the birds,
behind the face of every man and woman I meet,
and lying down with me at night.

Holy Spirit, you are all around and in me, walking
in my garden, shining in the sun, singing in the
birds, behind the face of every man and woman I
meet, and lying down with me at night.

I will rejoice and walk with You by my tree of
temptations to reach the life You prepared for me
today. I will rejoice and walk with You today and
offer all my deeds as I try to care for your gifts and
calling.

I will rejoice and walk with You today until I rest in
Your peace tonight.

Credit: Szabolcs Kerekes serves with CRM-Hungary and works with church planters and pastors. He recently authored a book called Matrix Conversations about journeying toward Christ with those in the post-modern generation. Szabolcs, his wife, Erika, and their children, Anna, Julia, and David, live in Hungary.