Okay, so I thought I’d let you in a bit on the quirkiness of my days. I usually try to be level-headed and logical. Most of the time, I think the act is believable. This weekend was not one of those times.

Case #1 Good Stories can actually be more trouble than they are worth
Well, let me first start with yesterday. I had my Saturday packed back-to-back from 9 am – 9 pm. I biked across the neighborhood to babysit and the morning really started out well. I love the three kids, especially the little one who insists on wearing one pink sparkly shoe and one regular blue croc. I’d forgotten all about that until I had him on my shoulders and we were all on a walk. I started to see people give sympathetic waves and stares and then I realized my little guy with the mismatched shoes and it made sense.

Anyway! They were getting antsy, so I made up this whole story about a treasure hidden by the lone family living here before they were scared away by the big, new development. In their haste, the sweet family forgot the treasure they had buried. The kids really got into it; before I could tame down the story, the oldest girl was stopping at every crack in the cement, claiming it was a sign to the treasure! She was actually convinced there was a giant, priceless stone in my backyard and she enlisted the help of her siblings to uncover it. I couldn’t crush the dream by this point, so I continued to add to the legend, saying the family would feel so bad if they came back to get their treasure and it was gone. I finally persuaded them home, but I’ve really got to be careful about those stories!

Case #2 Don’t throw garbage at an unmarked trailer
Last night, after meeting up with some students in the park, I came back to attend a beautiful baby shower my housemates were hosting. I was excited to celebrate and practice my Spanish (more on that later!) with the ladies from Nueva Vida, the spanish-speaking service at my church. My good friends Norma and Monica cherished every teachable moment and my attempts were full of laughter. At the end of the night after washing dishes and loading cars, everyone was exhausted and I slipped away to my room to breathe, in English:).

So, today I wanted to help with any of the leftover cleanup. I saw an enormous garbage bag in the backyard where multiple bee families had decided to spend their afternoon. I calmly tried to consolidate the trash and tie a knot (my cousin used to keep bees, so I’m pretty qualified in bee-ing). Having succeeded, I thought the best place for this smelly bundle was in a dumpster. There’s a builder site right across the street with a green, unmarked trailer and so I heaved as hard as I could (it’s a big heave from 5 feet) and it just barely reach the top. It was sitting kind of precariously, so I went back to fetch a rake and push it more towards the center. I felt pretty accomplished… until I told my roomates and they just stared back blankly.
“You know that’s the builder’s trailer, right? It’s all locked up on top.”

What? We looked out the window and saw a monstery white thing conspicuously waving in the wind in the middle of an otherwise picturesque development. Ooops! So, I decided to go back under the cloak of night to retrieve my mistake and take it to another dumpster. After I got back from church tonight, I grabbed a shovel and started across the quiet street. RIGHT as I set foot on the pavement a car turned on to the street to get a headlight-framed picture of me, in a dress and carrying a shovel in the dark. Creepy. Then, when I reached the unmarked trailer, I realized what a good job I had done earlier by pushing the bag further back. So that now, even with the shovel, I could not reach it! So, I had to go back to get a stepladder and walk to the trailer again. This time, right as I set the stepladder down, another pair of headlights illuminated the scene, this time capturing a lone figure, shovel in hand, standing next to a stepladder in the only vacant lot. Creepy. I finally procured the package and heaved it in to the real garbage dumpster and called it a night. Hopefully there won’t be rumors circulating on the Homeowner’s Association forum about a ‘shovel lady,’ that would be too much!

Well, who knows if either of those stories were worth telling, but they are lighter than most of the thoughts I am thinking right now. And if I get any feedback from the blog at all, it usually has to do with it being ‘heavy’, so here’s to the readers who just need to know I am foolish most of the time!

Fridays are jean days here in the Student Life office. It’s usually a pretty exciting day.

But, more exciting than the jeans is a wonderful little thing I like to call Liana. Liana is a first year student and the glorious sunshine of my week. We meet on Fridays in the afternoon to talk about life. She always surprises me with questions, insight, and her capacity to love. My favorite conversation might have been when she called this past Tuesday and I could barely make out words between the high-pitched squeals. .. she had just been accepted to the Ozark Lakes Summer Project with Campus Crusade.

Liana is like opening a gift every time I see her!

Since yesterday’s post was some of the heavy things I’ve been thinking about, I decided today to turn to something a little lighter.

Headbands; a very useful, very functional accessory to the female wardrobe. Though I have never been crazy about fussing over my appearance (thanks to my mom and a good dose of farms and fields growing up, I am not one to spend hours in front of the mirror), I am always open to a good idea. When you have long, limp hair, it is sometimes very important to make sure it stays out of your face. Some times when this might be especially helpful:

1. when you are taking an exam
(I remember having very little patience for flyaways when writing blue book essays. I think I would be more likely to just pull out the obstinate strays than fight with them until I’ve finished)
2. when you are working out
(It’s so annoying – and almost impossible – to mess with nappy hair while you are on an elliptical machine. It’s actually also very dangerous!)
3. when you are giving a presentation
(There’s nothing more distracting then making a point to an important audience and your vision is blurred by one shiny sliver. Though you try to convince yourself that no one else can see it, it’s virtually impossible to focus.)
4. when you are in an important interview
(I can see myself, cross-eyed and preoccupied, straining to answer questions about my strengths.)
5. when you are painting
(When the annoying strands become decorated with yellow, beige, and turquoise you can no longer convince yourself that you are the only one who notices.)

So, there has to be a way to keep these things from happening.
ENTER headbands.Today it was especially necessary that I don a sporty red, elastic headband to keep my hair out of my face and to keep the paint out of my hair. I accompanied a group of students to a local shelter to paint and clean.

By the end of the day (now, I guess) my head was almost throbbing. It could’ve been the paint fumes, but because this has happened before I know that it’s the headband. For all its function, headbands seem to squeeze in just the wrong places (behind your ears) to cause a growing, painful headache.

postscript:
I have to admit, writing about headbands has so less a thrill than writing about what is real. I’ll have to work on that.

So I’ve been humming this new tune… I actually can’t get it out of my mind. Last night at junior high youth group, we taught the 6th graders a books of the Bible song. It was one I found on Youtube of all places, but it’s catchy. Now, before you think I’m pressuring these young ladies to memorize more things (on top of their already rigorous expectations), the girls actually asked for it.

I had shared that I learned a rap for the books of the Bible growing up and still remember it. In fact, I remember and cherish all the verses I learned as part of the AWANA program growing up. (I recently decided that AWANA, or something like it, would definitely have to be a part of my kids’ lives – it was amazing!) The girls looked at me and said, could you teach it to us?

It’s so amazing when you see how simple things are – that we do truly want to know the heart of God – that the Holy Spirit stirs within us to treasure up Truths in our hearts.

Not that memorizing the books of the Bible is an end in any sort of way, but I am so encouraged that it can be a beginning. Take a peek – and see if you don’t start humming a new tune!

http://www.youtube.com/v/caq1KlAsfOw&hl=en

This – such a small thing – brought laughter and community into our group last night. What a blessing to see how “hiding God’s word in our hearts” will produce much fruit. … even in the way the world looks when we wake up the next morning.

I hopped on a plane today, flew to Chicago, jumped on the blue line to downtown and rushed across the loop to catch the 3:58 south shoreline train to michigan city, where my dear friend and mentor picked me up. Whew!

We dined in a little town called Fennville at an adorable cafe/pub and finally made our way to Holland around 9:30 pm. What a day!

It’s so exciting to be back up north – where I’ve made so many memories. This weekend will be a welcome thrill – precious time with family and friends.

On the way here, I spent most of the airport/plane time captured again by Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Prince Myshkin. I find myself often and even wondering as he might at ironical or strange situations. Not strange in a conventional way ( if that is possible) but strange because something strikes conviction’s chord. Something in me responds aghast at a person’s (or my own) tendency to do wrong.

One thing I do love is the style of writing and conversation. The first time I read, “…we fell into talk,” I knew instantly I would adopt the phrase. So, this weekend, I have many and great plans to “fall into talk” with loved ones here.