I'm scared of talking about politics.

When I started this Lenten blog project, I made up a list of topics so that I could just pick one instead of having to come up with a topic AND something to say in the same day. I've used up most of the titles and there are just a couple left. This is one of them. There's a reason it was one of the last ones. I almost didn't do it, because I really AM scared of talking about politics, including talking ABOUT being scared of talking about politics it seems.

I have friends and family members all over the political spectrum. I love to learn from other people- about their experiences, their perspectives, and their beliefs. Sometimes they help me see a fuller picture, sometimes they even change my mind.

I appreciate thoughtful discussion that excludes name calling and arrogance. The kind of conversation that regards other people's thoughts and feelings with respect and care. I appreciate when people seek to understand each other, even and especially when they disagree. I appreciate when people are mindful about what words they choose to use. Not for the sake of just saying the correct thing, but for the sake of being kind and considerate to others who may see and experience the world differently than you do. And, I appreciate when people understand that we see and experience the world differently.

I have been blessed by many people who will have these kind of thoughtful and respectful conversations with me. I'm not as scared talking to them. We don't necessarily have to agree. Some of the most holy conversations for me have been with people that have widely different views from me and I have had the opportunity to learn from them and they from me. And the best part? We even liked each other afterwards!

A lot of the time though, these are not the political conversations that I see happening, particularly on the inter-webs.

I see a lot more yelling, And louder yelling over the already yelling people. Including the sneaky kind of yelling, which is to just shut down everyone else who disagrees with you.

You know what I want to do when you all are yelling? I want to scream really extra super loud or not talk at all.

Guys, please stop yelling. I don't hear you when you yell. And you definitely can't hear me. Why are we all so scared of listening?

And while we're at it, let's maybe own that those condescending political memes we've liked, shared, smiled at, texted to someone else, etc. don't help, either. We can do better.

Here's some good advice for when we're tempted the next time, which will be in the next 3 minutes or less:

If you're nice to me, I might even be brave enough to talk politics with you. No promises.

You should read Brene Brown's books

You should. It could change your life. If you haven't read any of Brene's stuff, I won't be able to describe it to you in a way that will necessarily make you want to read it. She's a shame researcher and has done a lot of work around shame and vulnerability. See what I mean? I get if you don't *want* to read her stuff, but if you push through your own resistance to words like "shame" and "vulnerability" and to my pushiness, you will be grateful you did it.

Here's what will likely happen if you read one or more of her books:

• you will cry
• you will want to be be braver or more brave, either or both
• you will understand why you get crazy mad or sad about things that don't matter as much to other people 
• you will understand when other people react like that, at least more often 
• you will face your deepest fears
• you will want to have a more thoughtful way of communicating with other people
• you will want stop making wide and shallow descriptions about people as often
• you will laugh a lot because she's super funny
• you will have some good perspectives to help you be a better leader, friend, sibling, co-worker, etc.
• you might even be more honest and more of yourself
• you will find that she says a lot of things that connect to faith too
• instead of trying to fix other peoples' problems, you might be empathetic instead.

If you don't like reading, she has two TED Talks you can watch: THIS ONE and THIS ONE.

Brene Brown is probably why I started a blog.

Things that I'm nostalgic about

I get super nostalgic about almost everything. I love tradition. I love remembering good days and seasons in life. In a weird way, I love missing people and good memories.

Here's a list of just a few things that make me feel this way:

1. Looking at old pictures
2. Christmas decorations
3. Changes in the seasons
4. Hot chocolate
5. Sitting by a fireplace
6. Looking at the sky- especially when there's a bunch of clouds or stars
7. A book, coffee, and sweatpants. That's also just a good day. It's nostalgic because it makes me miss one of my fav roommates and drinking coffee until noon with her most days. Although we had class, so it likely wasn't actually most days, but that's how I like to remember it happening.
8. Grandma and Grandpa's house
9. All the Christmas traditions
10. Family get-togethers
11. Hymns
12. When Harry Met Sally
13. Gene Autry Christmas songs 
14. Being with any friend and saying, "remember when...(insert funny thing that happened)"
15. Being in the sanctuary of almost every church, especially the small ones that smell like old books
16. Old books in general
17. The camp Jesse used to work at
18. CLU
19. The swings at CLU right next to the old football field.
20. Dad's dishes songs (these are the songs that my dad would jam to with his boombox while doing the dishes, shirtless, in front of the window) including: Journey, REO Speedwagon, Queen, Richard Marx, and Boston.
21. Mr. Big's jam, "I'm the one who wants to be with you"
22. A zillion other songs from various stages in life
23. Twinkly lights
24. Disneyland!
25. Sitting outside on really sunny, beautiful days

Well, that's only 25 things. But hang out with me for an hour and you'll know about a zillion more things. 

A Short Story

You’ve never heard of the Pipsqueaks? You’re kidding? No, it’s not just a silly name for short people. Where else would they have come up with that name? The word Pipsqueak derived from the tiny gnome-like people that were told to have lived long ago, but most people have misplaced their history. Otherwise you would have known. If we’re lucky enough to been heard of, most think we’re just folklore and to be categorized with the leprechauns, unicorns, and jackalopes. It’s a shame, really. We’ve existed for thousands of years.

Oh yes, that’s right. Let’s get on with it, then. I must be the first Pipsqueak you’ve met, then, yes? Should I just tell my story then? Is mic loud enough? It better be, it’s about the size of my head. Right, right, let’s get on with it.

Good afternoon. My name is Mr. McDougal.

My whole life, I’ve wanted to have an opportunity to speak to you all. Since I was little kid even. I remember seeing these two kids about my age and they were playing in the woods and building a fort. They were laughing and teasing each other and I just wanted to join in. But we were to be in hiding. It was the Pipsqueak way. It was understood that we were never to be seen by you all, or our safety would be compromised.

Sir. Yes, you. In the second row. Don’t look so surprised! How were we to know what you all would do?

Where was I? Yes, I remember that day so well. We were living in our underground home at the time and I must have had my head poking out just a few inches to see what they were doing. Mother whacked my head faster and harder than I ever saw coming. She looked at me and she said, “Don’t you ever, ever, ever let them see you. Do you understand? They will hurt you given the chance.” She never had to tell me again. But, I never stopped wanting to meet you all.

Why am I here? Why now? I said I’ve always wished to meet you all, but you could also call it my dying wish. I know, that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. The end is drawing near for me. We all know it. I’m an old man and my bones are getting brittle and my body’s weak. And, I’m just plain tired.

I was lying in bed just the other night. The arthritis was particularly bad that day and I just felt so old. You know there are some days when you know you in your mind that you’re getting old and other days where your body can’t keep quiet about it. My body could not keep quiet, it was yelling from my joints, my back...

It dawned on me. I could die. Believe it or not I hadn’t thought about it much before that. One thing lead to another and I started to think about my life and moments along the way. My daughter marrying her sweetheart. My boy holding his momma’s hand. Or playing ball with him, and then his son once he became a father himself. I saw my bride take her last breaths after 48 wonderful years together and smiled with gratitude for getting to know her for so long.

But then I looked around at the walls of my modest home. Six feet under the surface.

Why are you laughing? Six feet under? Is that a phrase you use? Oh! Oh you’re kidding! What irony! Well, it is six feet under the ground. That’s pretty standard for Pipsqueak homes. We’re not very tall, we don’t need much more than that.

Why was I talking about my house? This is why I must meet you now, so I can at least remember you all for a little while.

The house...was underground. Why I was I telling you that? It was underground, that’s right! It was underground. What I’m trying to say is it dawned on me that so many of my memories, so much of my life was underground or out of sight. Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a wonderful life. But now that my wife is gone and my kids are grown and having babies of their own, I’m starting to wonder if I don’t want the next months or years or whatever I’ve got left to be hidden anymore.

That day I told you about earlier about my mother again smacking me on the head telling me to stay out of sight, well I thought about that again. And I thought, I’ve only got a little time left to find out if she was right.

So here I am. I want you to know who the Pipsqueaks are... or at least me. I think the rest of them are still a bit timid. Might be for some time.

I’m here. And I’m real!

When you forgot about us, you turned our name into a word to describe someone as small or insignificant. Perhaps you were right. Ha ha ha, well definitely the small part… or perhaps you all are just too tall? Have you thought of that? I can’t say that you should think us significant either, with us being hidden so long.

All this to say, Hello. Nice to meet you. Finally. Thank you for seeing me.

Seasons

One of the things that I love most about living in the Midwest is that there are seasons. I had never actually seen fall before I moved to Minnesota. It's beautiful.

Here's some pics of seasons that I took over the last 7.5 years of MN and WI. I'm starting with spring, because it's spring.

I want to be...

I think it's good to want to grow and stretch and see potential in ourselves. Here's some things I want to be- all the time or just sometime or just more of:

1. Brave
2. Someone trustworthy
3. A good friend
4. Someone that makes people laugh, maybe even someone that makes people cry laugh
5. An astronaut, if I didn't get so motion sickness. And if I had money for astronaut school.
6. A barista
7. Pastor/Bartender. No one would ever believe me. Plus side, they'd have to stop asking me if I were old enough to be a pastor. Maybe. Or maybe I'd just get asked twice as often in various contexts.
8. A mom
9. An Auntie (wink wink, nudge nudge Kris)
10. Someone who stands up for other people
11. Co-creator of a camp or retreat center with Jesse
12. Co-creator of a sandwich shop with Jesse
13. Co-creator of some other kind of awesome ministry with Jesse
14. Co-creator of some bar and grill that has a sweet (sweet as in awesome) fry bar with Jesse (believe it or not, we have many many other business ideas, including "rent a dog")
15. A Grandma!! 
16. Someone that has made a difference in other peoples' lives (like in a good way)
17. Less selfish and/or like attention a little less
18. A rollerblader. Not like a professional. Just someone who rollerblades around town for fun. 
19. More like my super awesome sisters
20. Someone who knows how to play guitar and will occasionally and casually sing in coffee shops
21. Advocate for the marginalized
22. Someone who shares
23. More grateful, less needy
24. Owner and user of a gym membership
25. Able to give to others without expectation
26. An author. Just of one book probably. Just to say I did it. And because I have a cool idea for a book. I would have to stop writing in fragments. That would be tough. 
27. A better listener.
28. Number three, but even better.
29. Optimistic 
30. Hopeful
31. Faithful
32. A Great Grandma. That's a double meaning. I mean both.
33. Someone who is not scared to offer sympathy and care to those who are grieving, even if I don't know what to say. If there's anything to say at all.
34. Someone who is willing to have hard conversations.
35. Joyful
36. Creative
37. Gracious
38. Spanish speaker. I thought of that because I wrote the word gracious and thought it looked like gracias. But I really want to be fluent in Spanish one day. Necessito practicar con duolingo en mi telefono. 
39. A supportive wife
40. Someone who reads the newspaper every day

Things I miss about home.

I love so many things about being in the Midwest, but I also miss so many things about my first home in California, like:

• Chilly mornings that turn into hot afternoons
• Hiking all the time
• Not needing to own a real coat
• Hot sauce at every table at every restaurant
• So many of my best friends from growing up and from college
• My mom and dad, grandma and grandpa, aunts, uncles, and cousins and all the family
• Good Mexican food
• Sunshine all the time
• The sound of cars going by at nighttime
• My BFFs' families that are like second families to me
• Ascension Lutheran Church
• California Lutheran University
• The ocean
• Mountains
• DISNEYLAND
• Hot, dry summers
• Togo's Sandwiches, specifically the number 24 on sourdough
• Family birthday parties where inevitably someone will crumple up the wrapping paper and we will all throw it at each other for like 20 mins
• Grandma and Grandpa's house, especially their fireplace, patio, and den.
• Eggs n Things
• The possibility of running into celebrities
• The beach, again
• The 118 just before Granada Hills
• Sitting outside year round
• Good guacamole
• Avocados on everything
• Not having to dry my hair before walking outside
• Flip flops as nice shoes
• The Coffee Bean
• In and Out. I don't miss In and Out as much as I miss the opportunity to go to it.
• So many oak trees (it makes sense since I grew up in Thousand Oaks)
• Ventura Harbor

There are lots of things that I don't miss (like traffic, rude people, everything is the most expensive), but that's not what this post is about.

Pizza Luce Brunch

Tonight I went to Pizza Luce with my sis and it was delicious. I had one of the best sandwiches of my life. It was a meatball sandwich on focaccia bread. 

Pizza Luce is great for a lot of reasons. Particularly three reasons. 

1. It's where I met my husband.

2. They have a bunch of non-dairy options.

And most importantly,

3. Their weekend brunch.

They make the best breakfast burrito in the world. It's also the most expensive breakfast burrito in the world. But when you take your first bite with chorizo and some kind of spicy sauce, you'd be willing to give up your paycheck for this burrito.

I always get mine with fake eggs and dairy because I'm allergic and they are so accommodating that they have substitutes. I always ask for the vegan option but with real meat. It's never not been confusing and they almost always make it wrong the first time. But the second time is so good it makes up for waiting forever.

For a side item, you get jalapeño hash browns. Those exist. They also have pretty cheap mimosas if you like needing to nap most of the day after brunch. 

I can pretty much only speak to the meal that I order when I go, because I like it too much to try other things. I'm sure other items on the menu are good too, but I'll probably never find out for sure.

Sermon Writing Process

I'm preaching this weekend, so I will tell you about my sermon "writing" process.

When I first started preaching, I would spend somewhere around 20 hours writing. It's possible it was more. I learned that I'm a perfectionist. I didn't know before, but I definitely am. Also, despite starting a blog, writing doesn't come easy to me, so I'd go over it and over it and over it and pick at it until it was right. Then I'd read it mostly word for word in front of the congregation.

One time in my senior preaching class, I caught senioritis. I had to present my sermon to my small group in class that day and I just couldn't think of anything to say, and the whole senioritis wasn't inspiring me to try very hard. Finally it was like thirty minutes before class and I really didn't have a sermon. I wrote down a few bullet points of where I was hoping to go, prayed, and then gave a more extemporaneous/ slightly impromptu sermon. One of my friends in the small group said, "That was one of your better sermons!" And I said, "you've got to be kidding me." Turns out that my delivery is a zillion times better when I'm not reading. I haven't preached from a manuscript on a Sunday morning since that class. 

I don't want to wing it like I did in my seminary class and I don't think I should be spending 20+ hours writing, so I've come up with a different way that seems to work for me.

Here's what I do:

First I read all the assigned bible verses of the day and see which one grabs me the most. Sometimes I'll incorporate two readings, but usually I try to stick to one so we don't all get too confused. Then I read it a bunch and think about it a bunch.

At our weekly worship planning meetings, we try to hone in a particular message/theme/idea to focus on for the day. We usually do this a few weeks ahead of time, but I don't really flesh it out until the week of when I'm working on the sermon. I keep thinking about the text and theme for days. 

Thursday I'm usually mulling through commentaries, online discussions in the Young Clergy Women Project Facebook page, looking at Greek words, and talking through some ideas. In a perfect world, I would be done and practicing it at this point, but so far that's happened only once or twice in 7 years.

Friday is my day off, so I try really hard to not work on my sermon so that I can have rest and good boundaries, even if it makes me anxious that I'm not finished. I still think about it every other minute though.

The next step in the process is called, "pacing". This step almost always happens on Saturday right after a cup of coffee and an episode of House Hunters. We have a 5:30 service on Saturday, so I have to figure it out by then. Pacing is when I pace around a room talking to myself. Usually it's my living room and kitchen. Instead of typing words on a computer screen in a way that I could imagine them being said, I write it in my head by saying sentences to myself until they sound right. 

I try to put all of the pieces that I've come up with in the right order. Sometimes I'm talking to myself for hours until it seems right. I practice transitions and stories and the introduction a lot.

I write out a few bullet points and include a few sentences that I can't forget to say so the transitions work. 

When I give the sermon, I know where I want to go, but I'm not always sure how it will come out. I pray a lot. I think some of that not being totally certain of which words I'll use leaves more room for the Holy Spirit to get the words right for people to hear. I hope anyways.

My sermon endings can be a little abrupt. Part of that is because I figure, once you've said it, you don't need keep saying it for 5 more minutes. Also I kind of like that they're abrupt. You know how when you're listening to a song in the car and you just can't get yourself to get out of the car until the song resolves or ends. If you don't wait, the song just kind of lingers with you. You sing it all day. I want the message to linger. I kind of want this discomfort of missing this perfectly beautiful ending. Maybe they'll even keep being bothered by it all day? And then have to think about it? Maybe!

The last step is "the nap". This is tiring (and so fun!), so sometimes I've got to sleep for a while! 

THE END!

That one time I almost drowned.

My first summer at Our Saviour’s, we were doing Summer Stretch—a program for middle school students to do service and a fun activity. One week’s activity was tubing on the Cannon River.

We had about 20-30 students, adults, and myself and my friend, Michelle, who was the youth minister at the Catholic church at the time. She and I decided that we would get kayaks so that the kids could see us better and they would be easier to maneuver if something happened and we needed to get to the students quicker. She went up to the front, and I went to the back of the group. We started just fine, but 10 minutes into the trip, there was one spot toward the left that was moving a bit faster. All of our kids made it through just fine, except for one. He must have gone a little further to the left or hit a rapid just right and lost his tube. I yelled to him to get to the bank, which he did, and I paddled over to get to him. He was fine, but still missing his tube. 

At this point, it had gotten lodged under a fallen tree near the bank. I decided to paddle up to try to get it and quickly realized it wasn’t going to happen. I just couldn’t get it free. I had never been tubing on the Cannon River so I wasn’t sure how safe it would be for him to just float with his life jacket next to me, so I thought of another plan to get his tube. We climbed through the bushes to get to the place where his tube was at along the river. Near this fallen tree was an undercut bank; it cut in several feet, and was making a whirlpool. His tube was spinning in this spot and stuck. There was also another tree limb parallel to the fallen tree. So I reached on to the limb and started climbing out on the fallen tree to get closer to the tube. I managed to barely kick free the tube, but the current was too strong to grab it (it floated down the river and we never got it back…side note, invited a small panic to the rest of the group when they discovered we were missing). At this point I realize that the water is deeper than I thought and the current is much stronger than I thought. I looked down at the undercut bank and it dawned on me that if I were to let go or slip, I would likely get sucked underneath and drown. I was struggling to stay steady and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I looked back to the way I came and realized too that it was too dangerous to go back that way. I started panicking and got really scared. I thought, I could die right now (who knows if that’s really true or not, but at the time I really believed it) AND not only that, but this kid would have to watch me! So, I prayed.

Another side note, I told this story in a sermon once and I must have told it really dramatically and at one of the services everyone kept laughing like there was going to be a punchline and I had to tell them a couple times that it was actually really scary and I really thought I was going to die.

Normally when I would pray for God’s help, I would barely ask God. I would excuse God before I even got the question out. “Dear Lord, please help me with (a, b, c…). I understand if you won’t do that, I know you are a loving God, so it’s okay if you don’t…” etc. This time I prayed really differently. I said with as much faith and trust as I could muster, “GOD! SAVE ME!” In that moment I had mental clarity that I hadn’t had just before and I felt like I had physical strength that I didn’t have before. I don’t remember exactly how I did it, but somehow I pulled myself onto the bank and climbed up. Me and this kid got a ride back to shore and played board games until the rest of the group joined us again.

Even though it was super terrifying to me, it's changed the way I pray.

Unfunny Funny Jokes

Here's five of my go-to jokes. None of them are funny, except to me!

1. Did you hear about the kidnapping in New York?

He woke up.

2. Ask me if I'm an orange.

Are you an orange?

No.

3. What's green and invisible?

This cabbage! (Hold up imaginary cabbage, proudly)

4. What do a grape and an elephant have in common?

They're both purple... except the elephant.

5. What's brown and sticky?

A stick.

Here's a few bonus ones I found on the Internet:

I never wanted to believe that my Dad was stealing from his job as a road worker. But when I got home, all the signs were there.

Instead of "the John," I call my toilet "the Jim." That way it sounds better when I say I go to the Jim first thing every morning.

I was wondering why the ball kept getting bigger and bigger and then it hit me.

What's Mozart doing now?

Decomposing!

Being Clairvoyant

Let me tell you about all the times that I've been clairvoyant. There have been a handful.

1. When I was getting ready to move to Minnesota, I told people for months that I was going to meet my husband in four days. I don't know why I said that. I moved in at Luther Seminary on a Friday. I met Jesse on a Tuesday. Now we're married.

2. Playing the card game, golf. I played it with Jesse a few times and DESTROYED him. I just felt like I could sense where to put the cards and when to pick one up and when to draw a card, etc. and then I won, every. single. time. If you've ever played, this will make sense to you, but I scored -2 to 4 points almost every round. That's when I KNEW, I had to be clairvoyant. Then I told him that one hundred times until he started saying it too. Sarcastically, like I *knew* he would.

3. Sometimes I think about someone I haven't in a while, and all of a sudden I'll run into them or they'll call.

4. Sometimes I'll count down from 5 or 10 or 3 at a stoplight and it will change right as I finish saying 1. Most of the time that doesn't happen, but the most important thing is that it has, before.

5. One time, we were seeing this band we like at a bar. I looked their lead singer and I said to Jesse, "I bet she's pregnant." She wasn't showing at all. I was right. CLAIRVOYANT!

Tubing and Other Funny Fears

In high school, our youth group would take a trip to Lake Mohave to go water skiing, wake boarding, tubing, etc. every summer. Growing up in CA, there aren't a lot of lakes, so I didn't go tubing behind a boat until high school. Whoever was driving the boat that first time, made it their personal goal to go as fast as they could and get kids to fly off the tube. I did it and pretty much hated every minute of it. I knew it was a fun thing that people loved, but the whole time all I could think about was that moment when I'd have to let go and crash into the wake, lose half of my bathing suit, choke on the water... or worse, hitting a wave and getting the rope ripped out of my fingers and then crashing into the wake, etc. etc.

When I get really nervous about something, sometimes I cry. I can't help it really. I think the build up of all of the adrenaline from doing the thing that freaked me out just needs to come out some way, and my body chooses to do this by sobbing. About 90% of the times that I've been tubing, I've had to take a few minutes and cry afterward. Besides the part where I really just don't like tubing, crying afterwards for a while is a little embarrassing. So, I don't really do it anymore. I gave it a fair shot, I probably went 10 or so times. I never liked it. Still a little scared of it.

I have other funny fears, and most of them are things like tubing- I've done them, they freaked me out, and I don't really want to do them again. Here's a list of things:

1. Tubing.
2. Sledding.
3. Driving up steep hills with stop signs.
4. Riding a horse.
5. Downhill skiing.
6. Cliff jumping.
7. Big roller coasters. (I used to love them, but now that I'm older it does that thing where your stomach is in your throat and I hate that so much)

All of these things have made me cry or could. And I've done them all and didn't like them. Also, there's a pretty solid theme of "things that I feel out of control doing that I'm supposed to enjoy, but I don't." So, I get super annoyed when people try to force me into doing them, as if being forced to something that makes me feel out of control and freaked out is the way to help me. It doesn't help, it just makes me want to cry BEFORE doing the thing, instead of just afterward. But a way that does help is laughing with me, because these are ridiculous things to be afraid of.    

A short list of questions for God.

My first theological discussion happened when I was around three or four years old. My dad was telling me about how God created the world and everything/everyone in it. My immediate question was, "If God made us, who made God?" Dad told me that nobody made God, God always was. If God always was, when did that start? How could something always be? I wanted to know when, how, all of it. My dad told me that one day, I might get the chance to ask God, so I should remember my most important questions. I still remember that conversation really vividly and I am still waiting to ask God that question and a lot of others.

I love to think about theological questions. I've thought about a lot of these before, but wouldn't it just be cool if God explained everything to us? But, there's also beauty in the mystery and the wondering, so I'll keep doing that until I get to ask God some things.

Here are some random questions for God and a few reflections interspersed:

Did Methuselah really live to the upper 900s? (A family at church was asking me today about the people in Genesis living for hundreds of years. I don't even know!)

Is evil this outside force or something within all of us? Both? (I don't think the devil is a red, horned, pitch fork holding dude that also has a tail).

What kind of relationship with the bible do you want us to have? How much did you say and how much got lost in translation and experience? (Personally, I try to have a balance of critical reading, but also let it move me, inspire me, and challenge me. I would not be one of those folks that uses the word "infallible" when talking about the bible. I also think the scriptures are important and living and God uses these words to speak to us. I say all this, but I'd rather know what God thinks about it.)

How does prayer work? Is prayer meant to "work"?

Do we have free will? If so, do we still have free will when we ask you to intervene in our lives? What about when we ask you to intervene in other peoples' lives?

Do you mind hearing me ask for the same things over and over again? Would you rather me just tell you about my day? Do you already know about my day? Do you want to hear it again? How can I tell when you're talking or when I'm just really trying to hear what I want to hear? How many times have you tried to talk to me and I wasn't listening?

Do you just stand outside of time and know what is happening at any given point? Do you know the future or are you surprised with us? If you know the future, did you choose to withhold power to stop/change/prevent the heartache of the world?

Some thoughts about some of those last questions: When I was in college, my professor said that people often struggle with believing three pretty traditional beliefs about God at the same time: God is all loving, God is all powerful, and God is all knowing. As stand alone sentences many people would nod and agree, but in light of tragedy and heartache, one of those claims will seem to weaken or not make sense anymore next to the other two. In the middle of grieving at one point in my life (and my unwillingness to imagine God as not all-loving) the easiest for me to sacrifice is "God is all-knowing." That God doesn't know that tragedy and heartache is about to happen, but instead works for our good to bring healing and hope. It was easier for me to imagine God lacking something (like the ability to see the future) than knowing and being unwilling to change the outcome. Being removed some from that grief, I am willing to ask the questions again and wonder about God's relationship with time, especially as it relates to suffering. I am willing to acknowledge that my brain is puny compared to God and I can't understand things with my own limited sense of logic.

A million questions about life after death.

What's the purpose of life?

Why did you create us? (I like to think God created us because God has so much love that God wanted to share it.)



Well, that's it for tonight. What questions do you have?

Daylight savings should happen Saturdays.

You know what day of the year is the toughest for pastors? It's tomorrow. Spring forward of the daylight savings. When arriving at church at 7:00 am becomes 6:00 am. It's only an hour, but a very important hour. It's an hour when I'm starting to wake up on Sunday morning, not unlocking doors  and being coherent. So, good night. And see you at church! And we can drink all the coffee and praise the Lord!

Is this blog helping me become friends with Mindy Kaling yet?

I hope so. I hope someone will forward her one of my posts and she will think after reading it, "wow, Kelli Weiss, she really seems like someone I could be best friends with. I would love to tell jokes all day and even get our nails done or something. Maybe I could even bring her to some kind of awards show? Maybe introduce her to my comedy writer friends?"

I'm going to keep hoping. Also, if you have a connection to her and you don't expect to share this with her so that the above situation can happen, well then, don't expect our friendship to continue. Don't expect it, but it probably will, because I really love friendship and I want to be forgiving. But understand that I would be DISAPPOINTED. But I'd also get it because if you knew Mindy Kaling, you probably wouldn't want someone new creeping in and trying to be best friends with her when you are probably on a mission to do the same thing. Plus that someone is me and I'm your friend and that could feel like betrayal. How selfish of me? How can I even ask you, hypothetical friend on the internet that could possibly know Mindy Kaling, to introduce me to her? I can, because she seems so fun and funny. Really how couldn't I?

Well, this is getting a bit circular.

Mindy Kaling, if you're out there, I would love to be your friend. Love, Kelli

Making Jesse talk to me before bed

I make my introvert husband talk to me sometimes. One of those times is right before bed. I want to process the day before I go to sleep and talk to him when we get into bed, and he wants to read silently without me asking him 600 questions. I get a lot of thoughts when people don't want to talk to me and it's really hard to not say them out loud. So, I usually just say them. But that's frustrating for the people that don't feel like talking. To solve this dilemma, we decided to compromise! Now we talk for 5 minutes while we are in bed before sleeping. I make sure it's at least 5 minutes. Because I'm the one that wants to be talking. Compromises are important. Talking is important. Not talking is important. We must be important.

Our pup, Autumn

Here are some facts and thoughts about our dog, Autumn:

• Once was scared of a dandelion and tried to attack it.
• Sits right in front of you and barks incessantly at you, until you move and she can take your spot on the couch.
• Used to be really scared of puddles and the vacuum.
• Favorite snacks are chunks of cauliflower and peanut butter anything.
• Climbs into bed and then hovers over you until you wake up.
• Barks at dogs on the TV.
• Sleeps next to her bed.
• Stands in the middle of the open slider door. She like to keep her options open. When she's extra stubborn, she will refuse to let you close the door.
• Confused by fetch. She wants you to throw her toy, then she runs and gets it, and then she runs again and wants you to catch her and pry it out of her mouth. It's new fetch.
• Loves pillows.
• Hates when Jesse and I talk to each other, acknowledge each other, or show any affection toward each other.
• REALLY hates the rain.
• Wants us to scratch her nose sometimes.
• Like a toddler when she gets tired. She barks and cries and is all agitated and hyper. Then she flops over and falls asleep. 
• BFF is Emmett Joseph Carufel.
• She smiles. Seriously, she does.
• Quivers with fear when she has to take a bath.
• Paces half of the night when friends are sleeping over, just WAITING until she can play with them again.
• Does not understand that bees are not friends.
• Prefers to chew her food outside. If the door is open, she will take a bit of her food, run outside, chew, come back for more, repeat.
• Is the fastest and strongest dog I've ever known.
• She almost died the first week we got her from Parvo. It's the puppy sickness from hell.
• Filled with joy and insanity just at the prospect of getting to go in the car.
• Does this cute little jump/leap/gallop thing when she's excitedly running toward you.
• Thinks that every time Jesse and I are eating, she deserves a snack.
• Used to have several stuffed animals. One time she ripped off all of their heads and then put them next to each other. It was like a dog toy graveyard.
• Makes confetti out of any napkins that are left out.
• Likes to snuggle. I've woken up in the middle of the night on occasion to find she's been spooning with me. 

Here are some fun pics of this ridiculous pup: