A) dorky B) nerdy C) cool D) all of the above E) I don't care.

Here are some definitions I looked up on the google:

dork·y 
/ˈdôrkē/

adjective

1. socially inept or awkward.
"he teases all the dorky kids"

2. unfashionable.
"why would anyone wear such dorky glasses?"


nerd·y
/ˈnərdē/

adjective

1. unfashionable and socially inept or boringly studious.
"when I was a nerdy kid, I got bullied a lot"

2. characterized by an obsessive interest in something, especially technology.
"my incredibly nerdy knowledge of videogames"


cool
/ko͞ol/

adjective

1. of or at a fairly low temperature.
"it'll be a cool afternoon"

2. showing no friendliness toward a person or enthusiasm for an idea or project.
"he gave a cool reception to the suggestion for a research center"


According to these definitions, I don't quite make the cut for any of these. I'm pretty awkward, but I'd like to think it's in a more endearing way and less of a cringy one. I wouldn't say I'm fashionable, but also would anyone describe jeans and a tank top as dorky or nerdy? No one would ever call me boringly studious, I don't have the attention span for that. And what's the opposite of socially inept? Too social? Obsessive interest, well that's debatable. But my obsessive things usually last a week after I've told every one I know about a thing I like, and I'll tell you, it's never especially technology. I can't find a definition of cool that means what I think it means. I looked up cool on urban dictionary and I regret doing that. But, I'm doubtful I'm cool, either.

I feel like I'm pretty regular?

But, here's a list of things that people might say are dorky, nerdy, or cool, or all of the above:

• I watched all of the seasons of the new Battlestar Gallactica, just like Dwight.
• I swinged/ swang on the swings just about every day in college.
• I took an extra 1.5 years of biblical Greek, because I liked it.
• I was the homecoming queen in college (at my small private Lutheran college).
• I've continued to tell people about that, too many years later.
• I can quote most of Zoolander. And Billy Madison. And A Walk to Remember. 
• I sang in a choir for like 15 years.
• I just bought and am currently wearing a giant pair of clear rimmed glasses that allegedly protect my eyes from my screen. They came in a 3 pack.
• As an adult, I genuinely like Frozen 2. 
• I was the president of my high school youth group.
• I was super good at double dutch jump rope in elementary school.
• I saved my allowance money for like 4 months to get a real pair of adidas.
• I win at Cards Against Humanity almost every time I play. And then I need confession.
• I have MANY hymns memorized.
• I choreographed a dance for me and my friends to perform at the middle school talent show two years in a row (year one was to "Ready to Go" and year two was to a Smashmouth song, but I can't remember which one).
• I have friends who are doctors and professors and pastors and authors and small business owners.

Well. I think these things balance out. Probably depends on who you ask. I definitely know SEVERAL people who watched Battlestar Galactica too. And by several, I mean at least 4.

I like myself, so that's probably the thing to focus on.

Vulnerability List

Lots of things make me feel vulnerable, but they might not be the same things as you. Like for example, talking about feelings is fun to me. I think it's really fascinating to figure out why we feel what we feel. It's like being a detective or something. Turns out that's super vulnerable for a lot of people and I (often) accidentally ask too deep of questions because I don't always realize that it's too much for people. But also, don't make me act something out or force me into playing embarassing games or any sports in front of other humans. Because I will feel like I'm dying.

Here's a (not exhaustive) list of things that make me vulnerable (but not too vulnerable to put it in this blog, because I'm not about to uncomfortably overshare, and also I don't have to tell you everything): 

1. So while I am fine to share my feelings with you, do not back me into a corner to make me share stuff, or call me out in a group setting with guesses of my feelings. That's annoying and also it makes me way too vulnerable.
2. Crying in front of people. I'll do it when my body forces me or I'm moved, but generally, I'm going to avoid that like covid. It's too soon to make that into a saying, huh? Ya, it is. 
3. Exercising in public.
4. As stated above, playing sports. Any of them. I don't really know what I'm doing. I can sort of play volleyball because we played like once a month in high school youth group. I especially don't want to play with competitive people because then they're both unimpressed by me and mad that I'm losing for them.
5. Asking people to hang out with me. 
6. Preaching, sometimes. I'm trying to be it more.
7. Being sad instead of mad.
8. Being mad instead of nice.
9. Conversations about social issues or politics. 
10. Singing in front of people. Especially a very small group of people, like 1-2. 
11. Doing artistic/ creative things, but also being creative also gives me the most joy.
12. Having to throw up. Like that one time when I had to throw up off the side of the road in Washington in the very beginning of our best friends weekend trip. But, it was a *fun* way to tell them I was pregnant?  
13. Large group introductions, where you have to stand up and share your name, where you're from, etc.
14. Doing hand motions to camp songs. I WANT TO HIDE. Or a rap-like interlude in a camp song ("ain't no party like a Holy Ghost party," etc.) I'm cringing just thinking about it. 

A lot of these are things that make my life better and richer, so I have to choose to be vulnerable. Some of them don't. Like barfing. 

Set a timer.

We use this trick when we want Aaron to do something else- we set a timer. "The timer beeped" has mostly been the official authority in the house to transition to something new. It works less now that he's 3, but it still mostly works. He also thinks "3 minutes" is the perfect amount of time for a timer. Sometimes I'll tell him that I'm going to set a timer for 5 minutes and he argues back, "no, 3 minutes." and then I say, "ok, you win kid, 3 minutes." and then smile to myself. One day he'll know, right now he doesn't know.

I'm sorry that I didn't set a timer, but I'm going to do a sharp transition to grief. If you want to pause and set one for 3 minutes, go ahead, apparently that's the right amount of time if you don't want to have a meltdown. 

So, there's an article cirulating about how many of us are experiencing grief in this new world we're in- both the things that are lost right now (like seeing each other, sense of stability/normalcy) and the impending loss of people we love. Like many of you I've grieved before, plenty of times. The first time I had real grief was right now, 18 years ago, when my best friend was in a drug induced coma fighting to live, and eventually died a little less than a week later. 

My memory is fuzzy, but I remembered him being in the hospital for close to two weeks. He died on April 3. I write about this just about every year, because it's important to me and he's important to me, and also Lent (when I do this blog) is always during March, and I never don't think about him in March. I was already remembering my grief a lot this month. The memories that I have have a lot of feeling in them, but also are really blurry. I remember the day he died my mom got a call early in the morning. I knew she got the call because I could hear her crying. I knew, but I just couldn't know, so I pretended like I was still sleeping so I wouldn't have to hear it and I could keep pretending like he wasn't dead. They let me "sleep" for a while longer and finally my parents came and sat on my bed while I yelled at them to stop telling me because I didn't want to know. That memory is really dizzy to me. I don't know how else to explain it other than to say that grief is dizzy. It's like the world just starts spinning? Every time I say that to someone who's had grief, they usually nod. 

I felt that very familiar dizziness these last couple of weeks. At first I tried to talk myself out of it- like no one I know is dying right now, is it really the end of the world that you have to stay at home?, you are perfectly safe at home, tons of people have it way worse, who knows what is going to happen, etc. And those things are true, but also grief doesn't come only when your brain or other people deem it worthy, it just comes. When there's loss, there is grief. 

The best advice I ever got about grief was when I was in the early days of grieving Matt's death. One of my pastors had a lost a son years before. He said the most important thing for him in his grief was to set aside time for it. Make room for the grief. Sometimes he'd set a timer. For an hour, two, three? He'd acknowledge all that was lost, and when the timer beeped, he'd go do something else. Something that brought him joy, something that was normal, something that reminded him that he was alive. So, I did that. I'm not sure that I actually set a timer, but I carved out time for it. I wrote Matt letters of things I wished I would have said outloud, I listened to the same moody music over and over again, I watched A Walk to Remember so I could cry when I really needed to cry, thought about good memories. It helped. The time I carved out got shorter. The grief changed shape, and I didn't need to be as intentional about it as time went on. Now, it's usually just March that I need to set aside time and remember the sadness of the love that I lost. 

Anyway, I wonder if that's wise to think about right now. As a lot of us are grieving again? Stay with the grief for a while. Then do things that bring you some joy. Laugh a bunch at stupid jokes and  play- it won't diminish the gravity of the situation we're in. But if you have grief, you do have to experience the grief. Just set a timer. Maybe slightly more than 3 minutes though.  

5 mins in my brain

The most vulnerable thing about this blog is that people know for sure that I think of a lot of weird stuff. Here's five mins in my brain. I'm setting a timer.

I found a tick on me earlier.
I need to shower again.
I don't think that showering will get rid of other ticks.
I just realized why my camera on my computer didn't work earlier on a video call.
Does my throat hurt?
Do I have coronavirus?
Why did coronavirus need to hit during allergy season?
I know I just have allergies.
I sang like 12 songs to Aaron tonight. I thought he was asleep, but then he shot up and told me to sing Go Tell it On the Mountain.
My leg itches, it's probably another tick.
How do some people not want to spend all day outside when it's sunny?
I'm glad we told Aaron he couldn't go inside because we all wanted to be outside.
That sounds mean when I type it.
I'm so grateful I saw my in-laws, and I'm so nervous that we could get them sick.
I usually have more thoughts than this.
Why is everyone texting me right now?

Things I love about my church

There are a lot of things. I know because I miss them so much while we're all hiding in our homes. Here's a list of some of them:

1. They like each other. I can tell. They even stand around and talk to each other when we don't have donuts.
2. We usually have donuts though.
3. They show up for each other. There are too many examples for me to think of the right one. 
4. And now they're showing up for each other remotely. I've made a few phone calls to people and everyone I've talked to has already called other people to check in on them. One sweet man was calling people and sharing his favorite bible verse with people, because it had been helpful to him in these uncertain times. People who aren't techy have been doing their best to figure it out anyway so they can see their people. 
5. They're good at cheering each other on online. They were good at it already, but it feels extra valuable right now.
6. They love kids and let kids be kids. One of my first weeks at Mount Calvary my then 2- year old ran up to the altar and I held him the rest of the service while he wiggled in my arm and tried to grab the microphone, and someone thanked me afterward for being a mom and a pastor at the same time. 
7. They don't try to do all the things. They do things with intention and consideration, and find ways to include people in the things they care about. 
8. They take initiative and are willing to lead and offer their time and their gifts. I’ve yet to have someone offer up an idea to me without being willing to lead it or help make it happen. It’s really beautiful to me to see people try out things they care about.
9. My coworkers. We've sent each other about a million text messages this week and only like half of them were from me. 
10. We don't have a bunch of old donated floral couches.
11. They care about the surrounding community. They started the food shelf in town, which has now become The Open Door, and TOD feeds 6000 people a month all over Dakota County.
12. My colleague has become a good friend to me. I’m not sure if that’s rare, but it seems like it might be rare.
13. They're really generous. This summer we had a goal of raising $4000 for The Open Door, and in a month they raised $6000. Also, people keep coming to me telling me they'd like to anonymously pay for students' summer trips if they could use some help.
14. Several people started a young adult group when they were in college and they've just kept meeting because they love each other and are mostly in their mid-30s now. 
15. People volunteered to chaperone the HS youth gathering that's happening in 2021… last summer.
16. We did a storytelling & music event that was beautiful to me. People were brave and shared stories that told more about who they are, or offered music that spoke to them. 
17. At that storytelling event, one of the speakers told a story about a more fundy Christian leader telling him some pretty terrible things about LGBTQ folks and he said, “I want to raise my daughter in this church, because you will NEVER tell her something like that.” And they won’t.
18. They’re really adaptable about worship times. I’ve never known a congregation that’s changed worship times so many times and are mostly fine with it.
19. A group of volunteers assembled over the summer with so much excitement about Sunday school and reaching out to kids and families, that they organized this whole, beautiful thing for Sunday mornings with many moving parts and it came together the perfectly imperfect kind of way that seems extra holy. Also, some of the leaders wrote the whole curriculum for the year. And volunteered to lead based on their gifts. I cry just about every time I think about it.
20. Our confirmation students know the general story of the Old Testament and I feel proud that helped with that.
21. We have some seriously amazing singers and musicians.
22. I feel like I can be me here. 
23. They are really kind, fun, funny, thoughtful, lovely people. And I really like them.

This got long. I have so many more though.

Things I forgot to do before we started social distancing.

1. Get a haircut
2. Hug everyone too long 6 extra times.
3. Buy things like puzzles. I actually didn't forget. I didn't think I'd ever want puzzles, but now I do want puzzles. I ordered some online. They are surprisingly expensive.
4. To go to the library and get a bunch of real books made of paper. I thought I'd just download some on my kindle, but I forgot that I was going to want to avoid screens after I moved most of my social life on to them. Now the only real books I have to read are all the ones I bought for seminary. And they say stuff like missional in them.
5. Buy a giant poster board for the life schedule I'm supposed to make for my child. Some parents are being over achievers, but I actually do really like those thoughtful schedules parents have been making for their kids and I'd like to jump on the bandwagon, but if I do, it's going to be on some scrap paper I ripped out of an old notebook. 
6. To go to Costco. I know it's open, but I do not want to go to there. Sorry Dad. 
7. Get more wine. Can I get more wine somewhere? Without going inside? I can't do it on my Cub order. I already tried.
8. To buy a big wall calendar so I would know what day it is. 

I forget the rest.

How will our speech evolve in the next year?

I'm sure that it will. I hope it is in a good way. We don't know how long social distancing will last but I'm trying to brace myself for doing this on and off for a year, maybe more. I sort of wrote about this already, but I realized that I am much more reliant on non-verbal communication to express care than I thought- a hug, reaching out and hitting someone's arm when something's really funny, being able to make eye contact, etc.-all of which are either impossible or don't translate well over the internet. I keep wondering if I will adapt to this new life with expressing care better with words? And will we collectively evolve our speech that way? Or will we do the opposite and after not receiving the non-verbal cues of care assume that we're cared for less and express less of it ourselves? Or utilize gifs as a cheap substitute until they don't seem as cheap anymore? Or some in between that I don't seem to have the imagination for right now? 

I'd like to teach you about waving.

In order to feel less like a crazy person, I've been going for long walks every day. I did that pre-pandemic too, but they've gotten longer. Understandably, there are easily twice as many people out walking in the neighborhood as usual. Just seeing other humans nearby makes me so happy. I always smile and wave at everyone. I did that pre-pandemic too, but I've tried to be more intentional about it lately because I'm projecting my need for a hug on everyone else (but also, projection aside, I really do think everyone needs a hug at least half as much as I do). 

But, this part is so weird to me: so many people keep looking down at the ground and not making eye contact. As if you might catch it by waving. I'm not a medical expert, but I'm pretty sure you can't get COVID-19 from making eye contact or smiling or waving when you're on the other side of the street. That's never been listed as one of the ways to transmit it that I've seen. It's good that we're being cautious of each other and good to keep our distance, but if you've already decided to take the risk and go outside where other humans have walked and are out walking, acknowledging that you see another human being won't be the thing that gets you sick. 

We gotta acknowledge each other. So that we don't become hermits. Or develop more facial twitches. And also because we don't hate each other. And we're neighbors!

I can tell you more about waving. All you have to do is slightly elevate an arm and move it from one side to another side. There are actually a lot of different kinds of waves. You could practice new ones every day. Homecoming queen style? Super enthusiastic? One that communicates we're about to be friends in several months when we can stand close enough to each other to hear the answer to "hey, how's it going?" A wave with the same level of enthusiasm as Daria trying to hit a volleyball? Head nod? Air fist bump? Just a quick movement of your hand that just barely qualifies as a wave? Be creative.

Too tired? In a pinch, you could even do an empathetic nod. Or a half smile and a mouthed hi.

We're in this together. The least we could do is wave.

  

Sing when your spirit is down.

Hands down the most holy part of my day is singing Aaron to sleep every night. If he hasn't napped, he will usually fall asleep in my arms on his chair, which is sweet and fills me with gratitude. His favorite songs have been:

• Jesus Loves Me/ Alleluia (the campy pretty one)
• Go Tell it on the Mountain
• Silent Night (all three verses)
• Jingle Bells
• Jingle Bell Rock 
• Rudolph (we have been singing Christmas songs for about six months now)
• More Precious Than Silver
• Go in Peace

He also really likes when Jesse sings him, "Up Above My Head." It has to be Jesse though. I tried to sing it the other day and he said, "no, that's dad's song for me."

Tonight he was too tired to pick, so I sang a few of my favorite old camp songs- the ones that we'd sing on the living room floor of my friends' houses in high school youth group. Those songs are always special to me. They were the songs that taught me things about my faith and they hold all of these memories of feeling the most loved and grateful. It was the first time all day the elephant of grief/anxiety/whatever this alternate reality is doing to all of us/etc. got off my chest. I forgot that when I sing, something happens to me and I feel whole again. That sounds super cheesy, but whatever. You don't know how I feel. And what I feel is better.

The song that made me the most glad is called "Joy." I've scoured the interwebs and have yet to find it anywhere besides my SLL songbook that has clipart in it. 

Here are the words, the tune is prettier:

Sing when your spirit is down

Run when your mind is weary

Love when the world despises you

and pray, to receive a very strong feeling

and a very strong mind

and a friendship that will last a very long time

Trust when you've given up hope

Wait when you are impatient

Give when your goods mean much to you

And look to the cross on calvary

it will give you a peace

and a lifetime of a joy that never will cease

I like it. It helped me remember to have joy today when I've mostly just been sad.   

Narcissim Test

A few years ago it was cool to have FB generate a word collage of your most used words. The bigger the words are in the collage, the more you use them. Do you know what word was in the middle and the largest? It wasn't a word actually, it was just "I." A little convicting. So then I noticed how often I say and type I. It's a lot. It seems more honest to tell my own stories instead of other people's, so I tell more of my own. I don't like to say things too matter-of-factly, because we're in a postmodern age and speaking our own truths and stuff, so I stick with the wise, "I think/believe/hope/wonder," etc. etc. Similarly, I tend to share my reactions to things vs share opinions, ie.: "this made me laugh so much" vs. "this is so funny." This blog's number one used word is also probably I. I've already said I 12ish times, I didn't count very closely (13). So, I talk about myself a lot. How do you know if you just happen to talk about yourself a lot or if you're a narcissist? I didn't know. So, I took a FB test a few years ago called, "How much of a narcissist are you?" I don't know the algorithms, but I'm pretty sure you move up to a certain threshold just for taking the quiz, and another amount for taking FB quizzes in adulthood at all. I will tell you the score- I was just shy of regular American narcissim. Which was a sign of a relief and some amount of despair for our nation.