Why I blog

I have been asked before why I blog, but the answer was never as clear as what I heard in a class on Job today; "Sometimes we just need to speak and for just one other person to hear."  That is why I blog, to put my small, lone voice out there, hoping that one other person will hear me.  Maybe we will grow closer, maybe we will understand each other better.  Maybe I won't feel so filled to overfull of whatever I am blogging about?
We all need to reach out to one another- I just choose to do mine through blogging sometimes.  I am sharing who I am, my life, my problems, my joys.  You don't need to fix them, comment on them, or even read them.   But, if you do, and you have wondered why I write so much "Stuff", this is why- I long to pluck the string that ties humanity together to hear the music of bond.  

One more post seems impossible

I am supposed to write one more blog post for my class project.  Somehow though, as I sat here taking a break and surfing my facebook community I learned a close friend lost her battle with cancer today.

My heart is broken.

I want to hit this screen and yet- it is all I have right now to connect me to her and all our old school chums as we gather virtually in our grief.  It IS my community right now. 

This is where I will find solace through shared prayers- even though they are typed.  This is where I will be able to express anger and pain- to laugh over old pictures and then shed a tear that no more will come with her in them. 

This post just seems impossible to write and yet...I cannot seem to think of one quote from our books and yet- every page seems to scream the same message to me:  do not discount the power of the gospel, no matter what the medium. 

This is exactly why we need to take the lessons from this Media in Parish Education and RUN with them- run into the wind, the sun, the rain- run far and wise, spreading the news- the gospel.   In these moments- in this grief, I have little to offer her or the community except words through a digital screen... and that- that is a gift.  10 years ago I would have sat looking at an email and cried.  Now I can go to her page, see her pictures, the posts and share, right now in community. 

This- this is not some passing fad.  It is a gift to go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 

Dedicated to the precious memory of Shannon Riedel, mother, wife, friend and sister in Christ who lived and died into her Baptism on this day, 13 December, 2013.

A gift to me, for me, this year

 In our Luther Seminary portfolios, we are asked by professor Mary Hess to include competencies.  These fall into three categories, knowledge, attitude and skill. In my second semester, under knowledge competency 1B, which is
"Familiar with basic faith nurture and learning theories: faith development over the life cycle, multiple intelligences, constructivist learning design (eg Parker Palmer's community of truth model), developmental learning principles, cross cultural learning, etc."
I noted this: 

"At this time this is not a competency I have acquired.  Ed I was the first chance I had to really begin to understand how to apply these theories. I am not familiar with most of them and am hoping through coursework I will become more so."

As I reflect on this second Ed course, I realize that I have indeed learned a new intelligence and learning design that encompasses the cross cultural learning of the internet and media today.  It is so easy to take it for granted- I have internet and ability and knowledge to use it.  I forget that I know things that many do not- even in my own home.  'Mom, how do you use this security thing again for virus control?'  'Honey, how do I connect the printer to the network?'

How easy it is to not even realize that this ability and knowledge can leave others behind in the church community- or- it can bring them closer.  The important part is remembering I have this tool- that others out there want to use it too and that we can bring everyone together with it- even those who choose not to use it.  We can share the gospel in a whole new way (cue A Whole New World  from Disney's Aladdin).

A thing learned... a joy, a sorrow

Time moves on- a restless, ever moving, ever changing, never changing entity, one we cannot ignore or hide from.

"From that one experience, a finger touching a flame, a person learns countless things."
~ A New Culture of Learning

It has been a joy to share my blog in a new way.  I did not start this blog for a large following.  It was a way to share my stories with my friends- not the world or even my classmates.  It continued as a way for my family and curious minds to see what happens in my life as a seminarian, mom, Army wife and plain old nomad.  Now, I share it with my classmates for my Ed II class that is about media in the parish.

One would think that closing each class is a joy... and it is to a degree.  But it also brings to an end a special relationship built, sometimes with one or two, more often, with 5 or 10 others who get to know each other in a whole new way.  I am grateful for our social media, for our internet and the blessing of online learning.  I am honored to read my classmates blogs and long after this class is done, I will be keeping them on my rss, wondering how they are and in an instant I will know.

Who would have thought how amazing the internet could be at helping us build relationships with someone we never met and may never share a cup of coffee with?  Not me, but boy oh boy, am I glad.

Ps.. here is a link to an old blog post about ends and goodbyes: should old acquaintance be forgot

Quote from A New Culture of Learning, SeelyBrown & Thomas, 2011.

Trade of the internet-privacy for agency

How do we gain agency in a world that seems to take joy in making more rules and taking away more personal freedom in the name of communal freedoms?  What would our world look like right now without the internet?  What has gotten better because of the internet?  Have we lost more or gained more agency?

Take this case of racial profiling in NYC.  Using '250's, the NYPD stop random persons under 'suspicion' and frisk them, filing a report whether anything came of it or not.  They have quotas to make on these and are subject to negative action if they do not submit.

Yes, things are changing now.  But why?  Because of the agency the internet provides us, that social media provides us.  UpWorthy is one such site that includes amazing stories that make a difference, exposing love, hate, law, injustice, passion, hilarity and more.

Yes indeed, we lose some agency on the internet- we lose privacy to be involved... but we gain a world of agency at our fingertips... if we have the internet and are willing to use it for better, we can make a difference, we can have a voice and give that voice to the voiceless. 

For more on this trade off and how to manage it, read NetSmart, How to Thrive Online, Howard Rheingold, 2012.

Knowing how...

"Knowing how is more important than simply knowing that." ~Mary Hess

Indeed.  For years I knew that rearing children is hard.  Knowing how it is hard is what helps me get through it.  It is in the knowing how that I am able to find what is going wrong and try to fix it.

When we only know that, we miss out on the understanding that comes with the process in which something comes into being.   More easily, we take something for granted and even more so, we discount the value of it. 

Some critics argue it is "the advent of digital technologies that has diluted and made more fragile our religious formation." They fail to recognize that while one process of religious being is no longer as easily brought into being, another process will evolve- has in fact, already evolved.

Those who eschew public gatherings, who have disdain for the traditional within the Church now have access.  They have a way to not only know that, but to know how Christ Loves them.  They can see Christian community without the familiar trappings- they can find it in obscure places and they can connect, creating new community. 

They would not find this if we did not have this digital technology.  They would be stuck only know that there is a God who loves them, but until they know how, the gift is often lost on them in the midst of tradition that turns them away.

For more on how to integrate and consider the impact of digital revolution on religious formation and community, read Engaging Technology in Theological Education, All That We Can't Leave Behind by Mary Hess, 2005.

The New Introvert- or rather "Net-rovert"

"It requires more work on the part of networked individuals to make their way successfully in an always-on, quickly moving world, and a new set of norms and skills-just as the transition from rural, agrarian life to urban, industrial life required."

In his book, NetSmart, How to Thrive Online, Howard Rheingold writes a chapter on how "Social Has a Shape" and explores the ramifications of the social aspect of the internet on our social lives.  Many argue we are losing our social ability for the sake of computer screens and minimalized contact online.  But the above quote really got me thinking.  We have both extroverts and introverts in both physical social circles and online as well.  Online, they tend to be what I call net-roverts.  The ones who aren't completely against the use of the internet and social media, but they really don't want to get into it too far for a variety of reasons.  They are the ones who still have an egg for thier Skype image or an outline on facebook.  The lurkers or the newbies that don't know what to do so they have the account but really, the tool sits still in their hands.

The point is, it takes work to be online and connect.  A LOT of work.  You must keep up with the newest waves of technology and know when to let a sinking ship sink or when to jump to the next bandwagon.  You have to be willing to put yourself out there in order to use the tools and all the more so to use them well.  It doesn't take less to be connected online- it just takes the same effort in a new way. 

Text from Netsmart, How to Thrive Online by Howard Rheingold, 2012.

The Hopeful Side of Experience

The other day I posted about how experience and being 'connected' are two very different things on the internet.  Although I meant every word of what I said, there is another side to the story, a side that I like to call hopefulness.  The sunny side.

I live my life as a nomad.  We move every few years and I have to start all over.  A new church, a new school, new neighbors and coworkers to get to know.  A new doctor and dentist, grocer and tea house.
I leave behind friends and old acquaintances that all made a place seem like home.  I leave behind the connections that make me feel like I matter in this world and someone sees me.  Ten years ago, I would have had to call a lot or send a lot of letters (emails for some) in order to maintain the connection as I build new ones in my new place.

With the internet, new options and new ways to stay connected have arrived.  While my best friend of 20 years may not be able to come clean the kitchen after my being too sick for 4 days or pick up the kids from school because I am in an appointment, she can give me comfort over a webcam with a mutual cup of tea.  We can each make the same kind, buy the same cookie (my crack cookie is Thanks A Lot by Girl Scouts) and then share in those same scents and tastes even as we look at each other with our hair mussed and pj's on.  There is a comfort found.

There is also a connection that makes the loneliness at night far less distressing.  At 3 am, I can hardly pick up the phone to call someone to see if they are awake- but I can glance at a screen and see they are on and active- and we can chat away, waking no one else.

My children can share an art project or an A paper with grandma on the other coast through a simple text or scan and when I have forgotten a birthday, I can create a lovely personal card and send in moments.  I can even lend my latest ebook to a friend to read and share comments online with.

As a seminarian, there is even more.  I am a student online, completing my Master of Divinity at Luther Seminary almost completely through the Internet and local congregational work.  I get to know my classmates through chats and conferences, facebook and even a rousing round of word games that spans space and time.  In the book, Click2Save, the authors note, "It's about how you connect in meaningful, personal ways with people across diverse networks."

For all the lack of connection, there is a greater one being made- a fine but sturdy thread of connectivity that allows me to grow my faith, to share with others, to  build community that is bigger than my human body can ever dream of creating with its physical limitations.  It is a new way to see the Holy Spirit at work, the thread of life that connects us all, glistening in the sun, showing us, that no matter how alone I may feel in my worst moments, I am not.  You are there- my community of faith, of love, of friendship.  And through that, my new community will be built too-  the one that does drop off dinner after surgery or take you Black Friday Shopping.  One does not preclude the other, instead, if we let them, they balance and compliment each other.

That is the good side of experience through connectivity.  It is the hope that shines through- that proves that no matter how lonely and disconnected the Internet may seem, it is still community with great value, just in a new currency.

Learn more about Click2Save by Elizabeth Drescher and Keith Anderson, 2012. 

Do I know something new?

A couple years ago, I read this competency for my Ed I class as a new seminary student:

Familiar with basic faith nurture and learning theories: faith development over the life cycle, multiple intelligences, constructivist learning design (eg Parker Palmer's community of truth model), developmental learning principles, cross cultural learning, etc.

I knew right away that I did not really have this at all as a competency and now, as I look back I have a little bit but the fact is, I really need to evaluate this and nurture it.   It is my hope that by the end of this class, I will have a better understanding of this knowledge and a better idea of how to use it for daily ministry.

Using media in the parish is an excellent way to bring this competency to bear on a growing demographic and need in our North American culture. How do we adjust to teaching/preaching/leading with the idea of a new learning design at hand?  Let's see what happens!

If you are curious- here is my e-portfolio I have been working on.  Sadly, I have a lot more you cannot see that is not published to it yet and is hidden while I continue to tweak it.

What does real love look like? Seminary, Cohorts and M.E.

What does love with forbearance and forgiveness look like?  What does love lived with passion and open eyes look like?  Can the two be one?

My cohort may never forgive me for this one, but I pray they 'get' it... In fact, I am pretty sure they will.

In my cohort of over 20 people we have all kinds.  We come from all over the country.  Not everyone would choose to spend time as 'best-ies' outside of school, but we have found a common connection beyond our call.  It is called love.

We are not perfect.  We drive each other nuts even as we drive each other on in joy. Here is a short list of some of our better or worse attributes (you decide if they are good or bad, it is all perspective):

Some of us are:
Sociable         Talkative             Timid                Private              Boisterous              Methodical
Studious         Loud                   Meek               Confident          Artistic                   Capable
Skilled            Experienced        Expressive        Modest             Flashy                    Articulate
Simple            Detailed              Humble             Joyous              Self Conscious       Self starters
Driven            Affectionate        Bubbly              Frustrated         Busy                       Calm

You see, we are all kinds of things.  Sometimes annoyingly so, even to each other.  But in those moments that would drive anyone else mad, we are blessed with this amazing grace that lets us see past the annoying part and LOVE the person in front of us.  They are part of us, they are us.  We know no matter how good they may be at something we are not good at, that they are a little doubtful of a different, weaker, skill of attribute of their own.  We know we all bring something to the table.  More than anything, I have seen tremendous patience.  It allows us to breathe, to listen and to HEAR and see each other and what is really happening around us, not just what is colored by our immediate reaction.

This group of people is full of imperfection and disagreement.  One of my closest friends in this group goes NUTS every time she finds out I have not started a 10 page paper that is due in 5 hours- because she is a planner and does her work methodically and carefully.  I on the other hand vomit words on paper and try to sort it out.  It works for me. Hers works for her.  The best part?  We both get A's but if we tried it the other way we would fail miserably.  The lesson here is that we could really drive each other to distraction with our differences, but instead, we love each other all the more.  We (or at least I do) find great comfort in the difference that we see with eyes wide open, full of passion and yet, in forbearance and forgiveness.  (She really needs to forgive me for the white hairs I am giving her when she finds out about these papers... I will buy her hair dye as a token apology next time I see her.)

We are NOT this way because we are future pastors... but we are this way because the Holy Spirit allows us to LOVE with eyes wide open, with deep and convicting passion, with forbearance, and most importantly, with forgiveness.  I could not ask for more.  Now I just wish I could bottle that for the world.

He was Just an ICE man.

“He was just an iceman”

When George Marion Mason died in the mid 1940’s  the crowd spilled out onto the street in front of the mortuary.  When they drove to the cemetery, there were over 150 cars in the processional and at least that many at the cemetery when they arrived too. 

Worth was a young man among those mourning and he was asked by a stranger passing by, “who died?”

To which he answered, “Uncle Fats.”  The stranger continued, well who was he?  Was he rich?  Was he a senator or a movie star? He must have been important!” 

Young worth answered simply, “he was just an iceman.”

Later, Worth heard a quote that he connected to Uncle Fats,  even to this day.  “It is nice to be important, it is more important to be nice.”

How was it so many people came to mourn his passing?  Uncle Fats was in the ice delivery business.  He was neither wealthy nor famous. He worked hard every day, bearing massive and heavy blocks of ice to house after house.  But uncle Fats chose to be in a different business too- one that did not earn him a paycheck but did earn him respect.  He was in the soul business.  He asked after them and invited into kitchens all over San Diego, this man became like family to each household.    He cared about people. 

We are getting close to the elections and of course, I cannot resist the fodder for a sermon.  You didn’t think you would get through without some reference did you? 

Politics are unavoidable.  Even then, in a room with Jesus, James and John were making a political play for power. They knew how things worked in this world and they knew they needed to get the vote early on. And of course the other disciples got riled up. If they were all focused on the real purpose of being there none of them would have gotten upset, but we see that every one of them did. They ALL had politics on their minds too. 

Jesus takes this moment though to remind them that this fame has a price. This political office they yearn for is going to cost them everything and will be nothing like they can imagine.

The book of Mark doesn’t have the beatitudes listed, but we can take a moment to pick them up and look them over again.  What if we were to put  these into the light here with this reading? When we read them it occurs to many that this is a list of the ideal long suffering servant. 

The Beatitudes are more than a list of honey-do’s from Jesus.  They are an application to our hearts, to do more than feed the body of the poor, to protect more than the body of an orphan or widow.  No, we are called to serve not just the product here of faith and Christian life, but we are called to serve their hearts.

How do we take this lesson then and apply it Uncle Fats style?  Does it have relevance to us not only as individuals but as a whole?  Of course. 

The relevance is that Uncle Fats brought the product to the people where they were.  He did not meet them half way, he went the whole way.  He met them on their terms and he was consistent.  You might argue he had to do that for his work.  But he only had to deliver ice consistently.  If ice men were all buried the way he was more people might have been clamoring to be one.  He was the epitome of a servant, because he served more than the product, he served the spirit of each customer too. 

Uncle fats went further and gave of himself in true servant fashion even when he did not have to. 

Just because we cannot expect secular society to be held to Christian standards does not mean we cannot or need not hold ourselves to those standards.  Just as Uncle Fats took his caring of people to work with him, we can do the same in our lives.  What would the church look like if we really saw every person in our paths and “cared” for them?  What if the words of “how are you” were really asking and wanted the true answer, not the polite one?

In law, when speaking of federal and state law there is terminology that applies here.  You can always add to Federal law with state law, but you can NEVER take away from Federal law by state law.  Jesus has given us instructions- and he is encouraging us to do more than the basics, to add to the law by action of our hearts and minds, just as he did. He did not want blind or thoughtless action, he wanted and still wants, our hearts.

This is relevant now because we as a body must learn a new way to meet the people where they are.  Last Sunday we had evening service out front because people brought animals.   We did not expect them to be in the sanctuary- it was not reasonable and I think the custodian would have had our heads.  Instead, the service was brought to us outside- to where we needed to be.   If we had called people to do this service inside, the animals, for whom the service was as well, would not be able to join us comfortably.  Isn’t that why some people don’t come to church now? 

Now I am not calling us to stop service in the building- please let me be clear on that one.  But I am calling us to consider how to take the BODY of Christ, which is the true church, with us in our everyday and fully be the servant we are called to be.  Let’s recall our baptism and the cross in mundane moments and share those.  It is not easy- it will not be easy.  That is exactly what Jesus told them- that cup to drink, it will carry bitterness and sorrow. 

Uncle Fats could have just been a nice guy but I don’t think people would have lined up like that were he not serving more than their ice each time he trudged into their kitchen. 

 Delivering the word of Christ is more than a physical act, We as the bride of Christ are in the business of serving the spirit in a way where we bare who we are in order to let Christ shine through.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

Amid the boxes and packing paper

Lately it seems my blogs have ended up in my seminary blog, but today, this is just about me and my life.  Not about how it works with seminary.  Today, it is about the fact I sit in this house, as it is almost empty of our things; things that made it our home.  I look around me at all the space- which by the way, feels really good in a whirlwind of busy-ness- and I think of all the room that was made in my heart for my friends here.
We were blessed with a great little congregation.  Not that there have not been times I wanted to rip my hair out over frustration with them, but just like marriage, I believe a congregation chooses you, not the other way around and you stay; a commitment.

Our house is not the only empty place we will leave.  By sheer volume of Kelly bodies alone, we will leave an entire pew empty in our quaint little sanctuary.  And we worry.  Will someone sit and lead other parents and adults in study on Sunday mornings now?  Will the archiving of church photos be completed?  How will the youth groups fare when losing a large number like this?  Not that my family is the be-all end-all for this congregation, but we are a small one and we are not the only ones leaving.  One of the members is leaving to live in warmer weather, another has gone home to await us all.  Many empty spots will appear over this month and ours will be among them.

I look at my boxes, labeled with things we own and often think, they are just things, they are not what matters.  Yet it is the moment I unpack those things that I think of the ones I love and memories we have made along the way.  The Austrian cowbell from friends who took thier parents all over the continent when we all lived in Germany.  The crystal returned just days ago from co-hosting a fancy fundraiser dinner that will now make me think of her as I put it away in my new home.  The vintage map of the Hudson Valley that will be framed and hung to make me think of my dear clothing designer friend, who loves all things vintage.  There will be beach passes to empty from my wallet to make me remember a summer spent learning to walk on an injured ankle down to a hidden cove where we sat, sunned and swam with local friends and read trash and fluff all summer.  And little things will stay on for a while- probably like my A&P and Shoprite store cards on my keychain- that will be months before I remember to take them off- but see them every time I put a new one on for L.A. groceries and pharmacies.

What is always hardest is realizing that like the forwarded mail, the daily thoughts will become fewer, less noticeable.  I will make new friends to add to my growing list of blessings along the way.  I will find new haunts for coffee and new local spots for swimming and hanging out.  I will not forget NY, nor the friends made here- the family of choice that comes with Army life.  I will treasure them and when I pick up these things to pack them again, to leave L.A., I will think the same things again.  So they are not just things.  They are reminders, they reveal in a way the memories that get forgotten in daily life.  They will keep my friends close in my heart, even long years from now when we may have lost touch.

 For now though, I wrap them up with care, I label them and I move on to the next item.  Because if I don't, it isn't about not being ready in time, it is about not being able to function.  I have to set them in those boxes and move on.  I have to say farewell and start again, just like I did in Savannah, in New Jersey, in Wisconsin, in California, in Germany, in Colorado, in Florida, in Tennessee, in Kentucky, in Virginia, in Michigan, and now, New York.  

Halloween or Trick or Treat Deferred? How could they...Not?

My two cents- for what it is worth :
Lots of towns move trick or treat to a night that is better. They don't move Halloween.  Just trick or treat- a dangerous night.  I grew up all over and most of the places moved it if it was during the week-- they just did it earlier. 
Personally, we have celebrated many a holiday on a different day so our family could be together to do it- it is very common in the military to wait until even late January to do Christmas (I have heard of waiting as late as MAY) if that means your soldier will finally be home. For those families, it is about the time spent together rather than a day on a piece of paper.  The past 3 years we had to celebrate special days on a 'new' date.  It really is about our mindset- unless you are honestly (religiously)celebrating something that must be celebrated due to the moon cycle (Samhein, many Jewish holidays, Easter, etc.) 
I kept mine home- they are preteens and boys- well 2 of them- and I know how dumb boys can get w/o parents around (heck with them around too! lol) but they didn't want me around.  I am disappointed so many sound like they are not willing to work with a later date now- it was not changed for convenience, but for safety.  This is probably the last year my youngest two will dress up (they are 12 now) and if people don't working together to do another date later this week, my boys will be the ones to lose out because I made them respect the decision of our first responder teams.  Now I look like a loser mom for playing it safe and honoring the guidelines, but I won't apologize for respecting authority and I am only hoping and praying they can respect that.
Croton on Hudson NY (along with many other communities recovering from the October snowstorm) didn't do it to ruin fun and they didn't do it for convenience- as if they have NOTHING better to do than piss off the village parents and kids by rescheduling Trick or Treat.  Like I said, most of you will probably disagree, but I thought I would share a different side of the coin. 

question

  Originally posted and written 2-19-2009

I hear this friend,
her mom is dying.
Soon 

she will no longer

hold her mommy.

I watch the tv,
stories of 

reaching,
grasping,
desperation
and I think...
how horrible for them.

I know 

divorce and
death and
poverty
are all around, 

most times not so silent.

My husband
feeds a huddled vagabond
on his way to the train
from a warm office.

The world is starving
and in Haiti
the 

only

hope
is what is eternal
where hunger
is 

no

more.

I see this
I hear it
I wince and
hear the stories and
watch
the tears
in my dear friends eyes.

So what right do I have to feel sorrow for myself?

What right have I
to feel unaccomplished,
incomplete with
no end in sight?

What right have I to
shed a tear
over little time for "me"
in a selfish society?

In Rwanda
there is
no thought to "me"
instead,
will I
survive

HIV to
raise my child?

And I sit
in my
comfy bed
at my
shiny laptop
with tears
in my eyes
ache in my throat...

wondering....

who am I that
I am
so special
special enough
to be sad

that I am not 

what I dreamed.

it feels like the first time- all over again- starting a new degree

You would think that once you have been to a couple of colleges, they all would start to have a large degree of commonality.  Not so.  I am floundering around again to learn new terms for a new college and, in the mindset of BK, doing it "their way."

Let me back up a moment and clarify a few things.  I started college and still did not understand, at age 32, what the difference was between an associate and bachelor degree.  It was not until about 2 years ago, at age 36, that I understood the difference between a bachelor of arts or sciences.  I am still struggling to understand the whole graduate and undergraduate component.  So, being the first generation to successfully attend and complete college in my family, I am learning the hard way- through a lot of mistakes, failures, missed deadlines and even more questions that really make me feel uneducated.

Having a bachelor degree under my belt, I thought I would feel smarter.  But not really.  I feel more uneducated than ever before.  I believe someone once said they were once too dumb to know what they didn't know and the more they learned the more they knew what they didn't know.  That would be me now.

I am all set for my classes to begin at Luther Seminary in Minneapolis.  For those who didn't know yet, I am a Master of Divinity student (MDiv)in a fairly new distance learning(DL) program.  (that is a whole different post!).  I will be learning from home, via Internet, but also must spend a month each year (2 weeks every June and January) on campus doing intensives. I also have to volunteer here locally  and keep up with my cohort (that is my learning 'group') weekly.  It is a far more structured distance learning program than most colleges offer, especially at the graduate level, but I believe that is fully necessary given the degree.

Being the first ever MDiv, DL  student for the New York Metro Synod of the ELCA (a Lutheran denomination), I am a guinea pig in a fishbowl- that is, watched quite closely.

So I have observed a few things at this point.
1.  Every college forgets what it is like to be a brand new student with them and misses opportunities to make it a little less frustrating or fear inducing.
2.  Greek doesn't count for credit toward an MDiv degree but you have to take a bunch of it.
3.  Minneapolis is supposed to have amazing stuffed burgers and I am making the list of places to try now.
4.  There is an app for Greek flashcards!
5.  It doesn't feel any different from starting at any other new school- no matter what it is all new and scary.  This is my 14th new start at a school since kindergarten so I think I know the drill but am still swept away by the newness.
6.  Nothing is centrally located for information.  It isn't just at schools, it is that way in life.  Who is supposed to be in charge of SOP's for life? (standard operating procedure)
7.  Reading the whole Bible in 90 days is harder than I thought but much easier than reading it in a year.  (less time to mess around and get behind!)

facebook gave me roots

We hear it all the time, "facebook ruined my marriage, my friendship, got me fired...".

Well apart from the fact that a computer program cannot do those things, I am here to say that facebook has done something really good, really true, of value, of moment, in my life.

I am a Brat.  yup... proud to say it.  Military, Army to be specific, Brat.  It is what I know.  It is what I do now, I am a BratBride.  I traded one ID card for another.  I had a civilian life once, many years ago, before my parents remarried and I was given a prefix to my sponsors ID#.

To be fair, that first life was when I was young, by the time I was 12 I was a Brat.  But the moving started much earlier.  I love my parents, let me just say that.  I am not trying to be unfair or mean, but the fact is, in general, every time my parents split up or got back together we moved.  So we could argue my training for Army life began early. Add to that, my father is a GOOD solid German Norwegian.  In good Scandinavian style, "we" don't speak about family, it might be gossip.  But that rule also stopped me from learning about my heritage. I lost an invaluable treasure trove of stories about who I am and who I come from.  I know what I learned from my mom's side and can only IMAGINE what I would feel if I had been able to connect to my fathers family in the same way.  I didn't even know what I had lost until I lived in Wisconsin.  There the women of my church and quilting group taught me old family recipes.  They shared thier stories of thier families in that odd womanly way that doesn't qualify as gossip somehow.

Let me back up though.  I have always felt like I had no roots, no home.  Once told that there is no way anyone doesn't have a place they truly call home, they said emphasized by asking where I want to be buried.  In all honesty, with a straight face, I answered, " Dig a hole beside my body and role me in."  I was and still am serious.  I have no place I call home.  None.  In face, I have few places I can go where anyone would recognize me if I showed up today.  My life is that ephemeral. Thus, I have no roots.
That is, I didn't.  Until facebook appeared.

Somehow, the roots to my high school- that no longer exists (due to BRAC, Base Realignment and Closure started in the 80's) were found through this neverland of the world wide web.  There have been reunions, there are groups, there are close friends reconnecting and recalling the fun.  Even the icky stuff too- but all of that is required to have roots.  You know, it takes poop to make good plants grow deep roots too.

 I have found many a dear friend on here.  Some, we find, we read up on each other and we then settle into a non-interactive connection again.  Others, who may not have been my closest confidants, are now quickly becoming the ones to whom I go for support, connection, encouragement and truth.  I know the rules.  I don't do that with the guys.  I have a loving hubby and I am not willing to risk that.  But that doesn't mean I won't add a guy to my friends list.  They are a root too.  Maybe one of those tiny ones, but they count.  They are a part of my past, a part of my now and will be a part of my future, even without facebook.

I have connected with cousins.  I have been shown pictures I did not know existed of me as a young girl.  I have found distant relatives through my grandfathers cousins!  I am finally, creating my own "web" of roots- and facebook is to credit, not to blame.  It has been a blessing in my life.  It has connected me with my college pals in Kansas and Minnesota.  It allows me to participate in Bible study groups.  It has let me learn who my husband is and has given me a key to that treasure trove of stories in my father's family, so that now I may share this with my children. I finally feel almost confidant enough to reach out to family in Minnesota to ask if I may come visit, to see family history in person, to see faces that look like mine, hair of flax that looks like my children's.
Yup... for once, facebook has done as good as an inanimate object may.  This Brat has finally found some roots, in spite of my lifestyle.  Thank goodness for this marriage wrecking, job losing, friend turned enemy making site.

It will come... sooner or later.

Today is a different day. That doesn't mean that things are different though. Yesterday a friend was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery.

Try as I might, I cannot cut short the sadness over the loss of his life in this world. I could not travel the 6 hours each way to honor his life there with others. I chose instead to take a break from moving and see Long Island beaches for the first time. I spent the hour of his interment watching my children jump into the ocean. And the waves crashed over and over again like a heart beat, reminding me of his now gone.

Am I a crappy human for wanting to forget? It was as though my heart said, if I cannot be there to truly grieve with others then I will simply not grieve.

Unfortunately, although I was able to defer pain, I could not cut it off. It remains. I woke this morning with a lump in my throat and a deep need to cry before I even knew why.
It's done. He is gone. There are no more ceremonies or memorials, there is not another step to finalize the formal end. Now comes the time when the others slowly but surely get on with thier lives as his family drowns in grief that has been deferred to a point as well. Now there is nothing else to keep them busy arranging or trying to 'get through'.

100 years ago we still wore black for a year. We showed our grief. A close friend or distant relative wore a black band to show the grief. The widow for a full year or more was clothed in all black with little relief of color.

Today we have no outer way to know of grieving kin. They walk by us in the grocery store and for all intensive purposes carry on thier daily grind as we stand in line behind them or scoot our cart around them in the deli department.

As a not so close friend, but more than mere acquaintance, where do I fit in? Some of us feel grief for others in the oddest of ways with no rhyme or reason. Maybe this is deferred pain over other losses in my life?

All I know is that today I grieve and no matter how enjoyable yesterday was, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I was aware all day of my friends who stood by a grave and shed tears at an armed salute, taps and a folded flag. I was so aware that I let out a deep breath- one I did not know I had been holding- around 1500. Surely it was done. Surely his lovely bride stood surrounded by others muttering condolences to her when she only wished to be alone on a mountain top screaming her lungs out over the ugliness of this.

There are no words I can utter to her that will ease her pain. There is no action I can perform to lessen her grief. I can only allow my tears to join hers as they fall to the earth where he is laid. My only hope is that I will be able to travel soon to honor his life where he rests and that I can live my life in a way that honors the love, laughter, friendship, and heartbeat that was his.

Pedro Mercado, my friend, may you rest in peace. May your lovely wife carry a little less pain each day. May your family remember you with honor and smiles. May your memory live on to remind us all that we should live with a HUGE smile that lights up a room, because in the end, while we may try to defer the pain, or even death, we cannot. It will come. Sooner or later.