Some old memories

Spring

It's technically spring. But it's 40* and raining here in Portland. I know, I know... you southerners are saying "it always rains up there." Not so. It's really beautiful at times. It does make for a restful week.

I am headed to the beach in a couple hours for 2 days- sans Hubby. No, nothing is wrong or difficult in our marriage right now. He can't get any time off and that's all i need! So, a month or so ago, we planned for me to take 2 nights at the beach by myself. We've never done this. I mean, we've been apart but not for vacation purposes...

Should be delightful. Reading, resting, enjoying the quiet. Matt and Liz also bought me a massage and facial for my trip! So awesome. They are wonderful- it was so unexpected and perfect.

So, Mike will be alone. He's ok with that though. After 6 years of marriage, one isn't reduced to tears about spending the night away from a spouse (I did that the first time we were apart.)

Hopefully, there will be some sun breakthroughs during the trip.

Katie

P.S. I have decided to write, and have and will be writing a lot, but for now it is closed for reading. Brent, you're so funny- I'm not that interesting. :) Cheers.

It's spring break. I need rest.

I have been thinking for a while about starting a blog... I know I might have missed the "cool" bandwagon earlier as I am late in doing this. But it has been nagging me for a while to start writing therapeutically. I might not make it public. It might sometimes be rated R. But this is what I am thinking today...

Katie

Rest

Haven’t blogged much lately; been too busy…for a lot of things. Too busy to spend time with good friends. Too busy to read something that wasn’t assigned. Too busy to just relax and think about nothing-in-particular.

For this reason, and because I’m not getting any younger, Katie encouraged me to go to the doctor to get a physical. It’s been quite some time since I got the general tune-up, so I carved out a bit of time to drop in and get checked out. I had to find a new primary care physician since my work’s health-insurance provider changed at the beginning of the year. Not caring much about who I saw, I just went down the roster at the nearby medical center until I found someone accepting new patients. I was turned away from five different doctors before finding one that could see me inside of a month. I didn’t realize that it might be providence.

I showed up for the appointment and was surprised at how young the doctor was. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five. As coincidence would have it, we knew some of the same people and I found out that he was a Christian. He gave me the once over and said I was in great shape, nothing to worry about. On a side note, he asked me if I was getting enough rest and I confessed that I’d had trouble sleeping the last six months or so; I just haven’t been able to shut my mind off. He asked how busy I was and if I had time to take a “sabbath rest.” Without realizing it, I actually laughed out loud. I didn’t mean to sound so flip, I just genuinely couldn’t believe that someone could actually recommend something so out-of-the-question. It’s not that I had any theological reason to hold me back, I just didn’t think it was a possibility. I had trouble finding an hour to unplug in a week, let alone twenty-four in a row.

I started to play the “I’m in an unusual situation” card and gave him the self-important I-work-fifty-hours/week-and-go-to-business-school-at-night spiel. I was quickly deflated, as he humbly said that he could relate. Turns out, in addition to being a medical doctor, he’s also a seminary student. He said that taking 24 hours away from email, work or studying actually made him more productive during the week and relieved a lot of the natural tension that comes from the fast-paced, multi-tasking we seem so addicted to. Without any condescension or judgment, he recommended a book to me on rest and asked if he could pray for me. As he started to pray for my peace of mind and heart, I almost started to cry as I realized how spiritually, emotionally and physically burned-out I felt.

I walked to my car after the appointment and couldn’t help but feel that God was trying to get my attention. I had made an appointment to make sure that my blood-pressure, cholesterol and all that stuff was fine, so that I could keep going at the pace I’ve felt obligated to maintain. Little did I know that the only real prescription I’d get was to stop the busyness once in a while and consider being grateful for everything that God’s provided…and perhaps remember that it didn’t come from my efforts.

So, I drove to work that day and scheduled the five days off that I’ve been enjoying this week. Katie’s had school and I’ve had no agenda. While I have done a little bit of school work, I’ve managed to actually relax and spend time alone, with God and with some good friends. I’ve also made it halfway through the book that was recommended to me, Sabbath Keeping, by Lynne Baab. It’s quite a good read, thus far. Regardless of your theological stance on the issue, it’s definitely been humbling to realize how self-important a work-aholic tendency can be. I’ll hopefully write more as I wrap it up, but for now, a quote:

When we work hard seven days a week with few breaks, we can subtly become convinced that we are earning salvation, that God’s love and salvation come to us because we deserve it. The Sabbath helps us know experientially that nothing we do will make God love us more. The rhythm of six days of work and one day of rest enables us to experience profound truths about God and about ourselves – our necessity and our insignificance. If we stay in work mode all the time, or even if we rest all the time, our heart-based, experiential understanding of these truths will be flawed.

The Big Dance

When I was little, since age 3-4, I used to put on these "shows" for my parents and any guests they would have over. I would first put all my younger siblings into costume, according to the "show's headline" and then stretch with them in the dining room. At the exact moment of "lights up" (which only meant my dad pressed play on the tape recorder) we would run into the room together doing an improvised-choreographed number to a song we now lovingly refer to as the Big Dance music.

I got package from my dad a month or two ago with the original song that he had found at a used book store. priceless.

My parents always joked growing up that my imagination and need for stardom would be evident in what my career path ended up to be. I was destined to do the Big Dance for my life. My parents weren't dancers, they didn't teach me this. It was in me, waiting to explode.

If you are ever curious as to my dance moves, just come on over- we have the home movies to prove it.

This realization was completely evident to me a few weeks ago. By now, all our blog friends know about Chris and Karli. Chris and Karli were the couple we lived in the community house with a few years ago. In that time, Karli had her first child, Ania, and we got to live through the first 6 months of Ania's life in that house.


A few weeks ago we hung out with Karli, Chris, and Ania (who is almost 3.) We see them every few weeks, but hadn't had good, solid, hang out time with them. We went to dinner at this great hole-in-the-wall mexican place and talked for a long time. Ania was hanging out by herself, just playing with some plastic dinosaurs when I thought maybe I should start a conversation. I asked a couple questions about dinosaurs and tickle monster... you know, the usual. The next second, Ania shot her face away to look at something across the restaurant. She let out a little girl (I'm having fun) scream. I looked over and saw nothing. She peered into my eyes as I turned around and screamed, "Auntie Katie, it's the Tickle Monster!" "What do we do, I asked?" She answered, "The only way to make a Tickle Monster go away is to dance!" So, we proceeded, as did everyone at the table, to start dancing. In fact, we had to dance the WHOLE way out of the restaurant to keep the monster away. Even then, in the car, we had to dance all the way to the ice cream shop.

Later, once we had made it home, we danced more. She wanted to play something called Freeze Dance (which I'm positive was made up right then and there.) That is when you are dancing, someone calls out freeze, everyone freezes in mid-dance move. But there's a level 2- OF Course! After you freeze, if someone calls a melt- then everyone (from their freeze position mind you) starts melting into the floor. We danced, and froze, and melted forever! Then we danced, and froze, and melted some more. This was all Ania. And right there, it made sense to me. Her life, her little heart and mind, will always have some of this astounding imagination to it. This is what friends of my parents thought as they watched and clapped for me. It's just the inner-little spark that we all have that comes out so innocently.

So, yea for long-time friends. Yea for kids and watching them grow. Yea for great parents that let their kids be kids. Yea for aunts and uncles that will dance in restaurants and parking lots just to make kids smile. Yea for imagination and not giving a damn what people think!

mmm...nostalgia...



My buddy Jay stumbled across this old picture of some of the DJ's from the old college radio station - KANM. I'm not used to my college memories being nearly a decade old. This can't be right.

Despite this picture looking a little 90210-ish, we were really hardcore. I swear.

i turned 29. this feels really old. k