Ch-ch-ch-ch Changes

My life has changed a bit in the past few weeks. I finished school and now can no longer claim "student" as my occupation. I helped my friends pack up their houses and gleaned a stocked pantry/freezer/cleaning supplies/furniture for my new apartment. I moved into my new apartment, which is the first time I have lived in my own space since moving back from the Dominican Republic...three years ago. I became a Reverend and officiated my first wedding ceremony two days later. I made my first major purchase in my life as an adult with a salary: a mattress; and found the bicycle of my dreams at a garage sale. And now have about a week before I start my new job as a chaplain at Hope College.

I was told after my mandatory psychological testing upon entering seminary (yes, despite what it may appear like at times, they actually do try to keep as many complete whack jobs out of ministry as possible) that I "don't do well with change." That times of transition are "especially difficult for me." I don't think I needed to spend 3 hours of my life filling in countless dots with a number 2 pencil to figure that one out, but in some respects it was helpful to hear this from a "professional." It helps me to feel like a bit less of a nut job during times of transition when in a matter of seconds my thoughts can waiver from "It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. Life is great!" to "the only reason I am getting out of bed right now is because the cookies I baked are all the way in the kitchen." It is then I can reassure myself, "that's right, times of transition are hard for me. I am not going crazy."

Since I graduated from seminary, I decided that it might be a good idea to again start taking some time for devotions/reflecting/meditating/whatever you prefer to call it (sidenote: could someone tell me where the phrase "Quiet Time" came from? This is not a contest...I genuinely have been trying to figure it out). I mainly embarked on this because I knew I was going to need something to ground me. Something that kept me a bit sane(er) and something to (hopefully) look forward to. And for the most part, it has been this.

One of the days I felt most affirmed in this endeavor was the morning some of my friends left to move back to Colorado. I opened up my book and the reading for the day was all about 'weeping.' The very first sentence was "weeping may, in fact, be the best indicator we have of what life is really all about for us." And continued on to say that tears are more than sadness, but that tears expose us to ourselves and to others...what we cry about is what we care about.

I have wept more in the past year than I ever have before, and that previous night as we said goodbye was no exception. I have mentioned these friends before and as much as I talk about them or try to explain what they have been for me, I find that words just don't quite do it justice. These were the people who helped me transition into living back into the States by affirming that Holland (MI) can induce quite a bit of culture shock. They taught me about love as I watched them in their marriages, in their relationships with others and in their relationships with their dogs. They were the ones who sheltered me and kept me from becoming completely undone as I tried to navigate the shifting family dynamics that come from divorce. They encouraged me to go to Africa, while at the same time let me know that I would be missed and graciously allowed me to slip back into our circle of friendship effortlessly when I returned. They grounded me. So that morning that they left, when the reading in my devotions was all about weeping, I was affirmed that just because they were leaving didn't mean that I was going to come completely undone.

I meant to write about this three weeks ago when it actually happened...but remember, "transitions are hard for me" and every time I sat down to do so, I just couldn't work it out. But lest you be super concerned about me...don't worry. There are many great and exciting things in my life right now too (really, you should see this bike I found). And I do know that I will continue to learn and relearn the things that keep me grounded. And, perhaps most importantly, I just baked cookies yesterday. So despite having one of the most comfortable beds in the world, I am managing to make my way out of it in the morning...

The One Where My Sister Offers Me as a Guilt Offering at an African Wedding (Photo Edition)

My sister is in town. She is quite fun to have around and her presence usually becomes the genesis of new stories to tell. Which is quite fitting, because she loves hearing stories/telling stories/remembering details of stories that most of us refute. Having her here reminded me that I never posted pictures from the time where she offered me as a guilt offering at a wedding in Kenya. I posted a blog about this a while back if you need a refresher of the exact story (this is one where I think my details are less fuzzy than hers) but I think the pictures tell the story quite well...


Sarah, after receiving a minor guilt trip: Oh...I'm sorry that we didn't invite you to our wedding...


...but to make it up to you, I brought you my sister! (I am not even lying, that is a direct quote).



And thus began a looong evening...