Okay, I’ve got to plunge into the anecdotal archives to retrieve one of the arguably funniest things that has ever happened to me. Funny because of how it happened, but maybe more funny because it was my first kiss. Don’t worry – it’s rated way G, so you can read on if you are wondering.

It all started freshman year of college. I was bright with assuming promise of a new life in a new town with new friends. Newly independent and absolutely basking in my freedom, I quickly made friends with Meghan, who was having a slightly less joyful transition. I realize now that I rushed at the opportunity to feel needed and lavished all of my home-grown Iowa loving onto her hurting spirit. We were late to a few orientation events as I listened to her sad stories, but when I asked what her favorite movie was and she responded tearfully, “The Newsies,” well, let’s just say we become attached. Some of our other friends that year thought it unhealthy, but we were lost in the wonder of a new friendship – I’ll never forget when after about a month Meghan turned to me in her room and said, “I want to know everything about you.” I was a little thrown off by the bold proclamation, but it didn’t stop me from surprising my newfound kindred spirit every chance I got.

Meghan wasn’t one to wake up early, but I was up and moving hours before she’d hit snooze the first time. I was anxious to prove my discipline and dedication, so I would leave crafts, verses, and eventually breakfast on her desk to welcome her into the new day. At first it was just muffins or bagels, but then I started thinking she would benefit from a hot meal, so would you believe I snuck an omelette out of the cafeteria and placed it carefully on a napkin next to her chemistry book?

Well, apparently my antics had not only endeared her poor soul, but also that of her family. They were worried about the mournful child they’d left on Hope College’s doorstep and were apparently grateful that someone had gone to the trouble to make sure she was eating breakfast (It really wasn’t that hard – the cafeteria did most of the work). I grew to love her family from the stories, but because her grandparents lived so close we would also go visit them on occasion.

I fell in love with them the first time I met them. Her grandpa admired my farm heritage (I truly think that is something I’ll end up ‘milking for all it’s worth’ in my life!) and her grandma was a sweet soul that never failed to bring a smile. I instantly knew I was welcome and accepted as part of the fold and spent four years grateful for that connection. But this story is really about the second time I met Ken and Barbi (because, of course those really were their names).

Eager to chat and laugh with the family on a particular afternoon, we walked up the deck and Meghan pulled the slider open. She stepped in first and there were excited (always loud) greetings all around, and I followed her into the dining room area. Before I knew what was happening Barbi was reaching for an embrace that ended all wrong.

I know some families have different ways of showing love and I understand we don’t all have to be the same. What I wasn’t ready for was the crossing-over. See, apparently my family doesn’t share some of the traditions that Meghan’s family has and that’s really okay, but when Mrs. DeWitt went in for a smack right on my lips I was slightly confused. Actually, I didn’t know what to do – so I didn’t do anything. Her love met its mark on my stunned lips and I had officially experienced my first-ever kiss.

If I had just turned my cheek ever so slightly things would have turned out differently. But in my stunned confusion, Barbi DeWitt planted her well-meaning affection right on my face!

I’m sure not many can say that their first kiss was their best friend’s grandma. But, I can and whether that makes me lame or hilarious, it is what it is.

Okay – out with it. Though I wanted to save these for “The Life and Trials – Humorous Stories of an Imaginative, Grown-Up Child” (to be my life’s memoir), I resolved that the publishing of such a book would likely get tangled in editing because of its whimsical and nonsensical nature. So, I’m content to settle for the only slightly smaller glory of having the material published in a different way – well, actually there is no glory involved at all. For the few who read this, I can only hope my antics will raise at least one corner of your mouth into a smirk and perhaps a chuckle might bubble out to disrupt the boring silence in which you are now staring at the computer.

Desperate Graduate
So, I’ve graduated. I have a degree – two actually. I have officially felt the comfortable, welcoming screen door of dependence close behind me, knocking as its springs settle. I think I’m still on the porch, looking out into the big expanse. I see big city lights and wind-swept seas, rolling fields and crowded streets, clusters of community and quiet solitude. All this and I’m still just staring, knowing that a few steps down I’m on my own. I feel like one of those blinking dots on a radar screen, wandering around with a little less identity tied to me and a lot less security. I don’t even have insurance right now. I also don’t have a job. Which, amazingly, has not sent me tailspinning into confusion and hyper-active mode, but instead into a joyous search for a beautiful thing called “odd jobs”. Yep, I posted my first ever personal ad on our college marketplace website. It read something like this:

BABYSITTER, HOUSE-SITTER, ODD JOBS: I am a recent graduate and looking for work in the Holland area. I love kids and the outdoors and I have my lifeguard and first-aid certificates. I have extensive experience with children of all ages. I am also a very hard worker.

Well, I waited and waited and got one response. I now randomly babysit a couple hours for two adorable little ones. The funny thing with odd-jobs is 1. you’re never sure you’re going to have work and 2. one random job isn’t really enough.

So, I did my own perusal of wanted ads on the college website and just a week before I graduated I found the perfect job: weed picking. Not just any weed, though. An alien plant called garlic mustard. This was originally an herb brought over from Europe for medicinal purposes, but its introduction onto American soil went awry when it neither provided any beneficial remedies nor gave any hint of being contained. Apparently, the weevils in Europe keep the resilient beast under control, but there is no such willing herbivore west of the Atlantic. As sad as this sounds, I was actually quite pleased with the predicament, because it provided me temporary employment! I instantly budgeted for what was advertised as a month of work at $12/hr and saw the cartoon dollar signs leap from my eyes. But, before a week had ended, we (there were others responding to this cry for help) had picked ourselves right out of a job. We were relentless, though. We knew the season ended in May, so I made flyers – an article telling of the horrible fate of garlic mustard infested forests and the names of experienced and willing garlic mustard pickers. I didn’t hear any replies, but it was a commendable effort!

Pleasant Biking turned Tour de la Holland
One ambitious morning, I decided to make the 20 minute car ride into 1 hour and 15 minutes biking to get to my temporary weed job. What a beautiful idea for a spring morning! My friend Tricia thought otherwise, once we were about 30 minutes into it – so many hills! She kept motioning for me to go on ahead, but how could I after I had conned her into making the trip with me? We finally made our way to the garlic mustard forest, winded, but ready to pick with a fury. Tricia had already decided biking back was not an option – at the end of the day she was opting for the passenger seat. Me, on the other hand, I had on the brightest of bright grins as I swung my leg over my sister-in-law’s mountain bike. I never did know why I choose to mount a bike like I was getting on a horse, it probably has something to do with the bikes always being slightly too big.

Anyway, I had my headphones in and I was thoroughly enjoying the scenery when I randomly decided to think about the day – a Tuesday. Tuesday and almost 4:00 and I’m biking my way down the lakeshore. Tuesday, 4:00. All of a sudden, as I was repeating the time to myself I realized that I was supposed to BE somewhere at 4:00 on Tuesday. It wasn’t just any commitment either, it was watching children! I immediately freaked out and called Tricia in a panic and asked her to meet me on the road. Meanwhile, I called my friend (who I was standing in babysitting for) and asked her to call the house so the girls would know I’d be just a tad late. THEN, in all my huffing and anxiety, I got a call from Austin, Texas wanting to make sure the 4:00 interview time was still going to work. I managed to keep my cool and calmly ask for a reschedule for the next day. When I got off that phone call, I was asking myself, “HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?” Everything was going so well, until I realized I’d left half my mind in the middle of all that garlic mustard. I wonder what they ever meant by medicinal herb.

Well, in any case, Tricia got me to their house, where the girls had only been home a few minutes (PTL). We unloaded my bike and I collapsed for a short moment, before helping with spelling, piano, and baritone. When the parents arrived, I mounted my fast friend and rode again – winding around bike paths and crossing busy intersections. I laughed over and over to myself – thinking how much enjoyment other people would have at the spectacle I’d become. When I finally reached home, I calculated that I must’ve been on that bike a total of 3 hours that day!

Mulching Surprise
With the weeds cleared, I moved on to my calling as a gardener – a mulcher to be specific. My mentor found it in her heart to provide me with a couple days work laying mulch in her garden. To make things interesting – and slightly intimidating – my mentor is possibly the most dedicated and successful gardener I know. Her house stands out beautifully on her street and is the envy of any passers-by. But, she was asking me (an inexperienced admirer) to mulch! So, I was determined to learn quickly and adhere to the rules: generally 3 inches of mulch (more in the sunnier areas), but about 3 centimeters from the plants, and watch out for ground cover. I think I did a decent job, although half-way through I did start to worrying over the proper amount and distance and trenches and edging. I got over it, because, I didn’t really have any other option.

So – I suppose this is the funny part. I got real intense about this mulching business. I felt rustic with the ground under my knees and my garden-gloved hands gently spreading rich smelling bark in the flower beds. Every time I would come to a weed, I’d yank with accomplished finality, as if to say to the gnarly plant, “Hmmph!” I think having my hands deep in nature had the same effect as snapping beans back in my little Chicago apartment last October – useful, productive, things as they ought to be. Anyway, I was intense. So intense, that I think minutes would go by without my looking up from my work. I was working on a certain area, spreading and adding just so when I saw a spot needing attention around the corner. I aptly moved with determination – even swiftly, I might say – right around that corner and BAM! I felt a punch deep in my left cheekbone. I mean, it really penetrated and after I opened my stunned eyes they grew real big and my face drew back. I was extremely confused at my encounter, after working by myself all morning I had yet to meet anything but my own sing-a-long voice to the music in my headphones. As my eyes got even bigger, I took in my adversary: the sturdy, wooden handle of the wheel barrow. I just sat for a moment with my hand on my cheek silently thinking that I could mumble some words to ease my folly and my opponent’s direct hit. Then my friend stopped by and I told her about my little scuffle. She instantly said, “I know, I can see it!” Later, I realized that not only was it noticeable, but I could’ve been in a bar fight, for the sad look of my left side!

Tonight I learned a new word. I’m not sure quite how to spell it because it was a made-up word. It means that your ear is “wobbly and has lots of parts.” Well, that’s what Jack told me anyway when he described his ears as faubnoddle. I’m still not exactly sure if that’s what it was, but he was entirely convinced. He said that you can’t give a zerbert on someone’s ear because they are faubnoddle. And that was that.

Wow. I have to say Paul had some kind of foresight to write “forgetting what is behind and strain toward what lies ahead.” Cap and gown lies just ahead. And, yes, it’s all those things – you know – all those things that are written neatly and cleverly on greeting cards. It’s a ‘new beginning’ and a ‘great achievement’ and the first steps in the ‘real world.’ Really, anything can be made fuzzy and sentimental, but what is the point of this whole charade?

What a question to ask, right? I mean, you’d think I have enough theses, models, and paradigms mixed up in my brain! As I’m looking around, we’re just trying to get past this week. We’re just trying to finish, get to the other side, take pictures next to tulips and on the beach, and smile with that accomplished grin.

I better just lay it out right now. I am no more accomplished than I was as a feisty, blue eye-shadowed middle-schooler (I was actually probably more confident then). If there’s anything in me working towards something I can attain, my sorrow will always shadow my joy. Woe is me! For I am a woman of unclean lips and I live with a people of unclean lips. I can’t wait to one day see what Isaiah saw when he came before the Lord. The whole of his being knew conviction and became aware of God’s righteousness.
Praise God! For we are redeemed and called His children by name. I still can’t fathom it.

My wish to write more will soon give way to worry over stresses, so I’ll have to leave off. There’s a whole lot stirring in the Spirit. I want to leave the lyrics of a beautiful song we sang in community last week:
There is a sweet,
anointing in the sanctuary
There is a stillness
in the atmosphere
So come lay down
the burdens you have carried
for in this sanctuary
God is here

He is here
God is here
To take the yoke
and lift the heavy burden
He is here
God is here
To restore the wounded heart
and bless the broken

So, come lay down
the burdens you have carried
for in this sanctuary
God is here

Amen and amen.

Okay – so last night was a first. I was standing there, in my print media professor’s kitchen, looking up at Copper, who had perched on top of the stove and had obviously been in the cupboards. I felt like I was negotiating with a jumper in one of those movies – pleading that he would just jump down gently and peacefully. I know, I know – I grew up on a farm, right? I shouldn’t be scared of animals, least of all cats! Well, how many cats do you know that take prozac? This one does! AND I couldn’t get it to take its pills Friday night or Saturday morning! I’m not even sure what all the reasons are, but it’s also GIANT! I think it weighs about 35 pounds. I reached up to help it down and before I got too far I realized it wasn’t declawed! So, let me lay it all out again: I had a disobedient, possibly crazed, prozac-needing, still clawed cat that could very well plummet to its demise on my watch! Suffice it to say, I was a little stressed out.

I brought my friend over later and it took both of us coax that little pill down — and I’m convinced the twitching isn’t normal, but Cara didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. She assured me that the cats were fine… I guess I’m just used the cats on the farm who just run free. I should also note that I am taking care of FIVE cats this weekend!! That’s right – quite a collection, eh?

Can I also just add that Mr. Winter is not through with Michigan – after a couple days of 70 DEGREE weather, we’re back to being snowed in and scraping windshields!
SOOOO much to write on, with a more serious tone, but that will have to wait til later. I am feeling love in Michigan and praising the Lord for His Son, sacrifice, and eternal victory!!

So, I’m pretty open to what’s in store for my future. So open, in fact, that I decided to see what Jack (4) and Julia (6) would suggest – they know me pretty well after three years of babysitting and I knew their imaginations could stretch further than mine. I sure was right.
Here is what they said when I asked what I should do with my future….Well, actually the first thing Julia said was, “Buy a car!” But, after that here’s the list they came up with:

1. make candy
2. ballet teacher
3. baker
4. soccer coach
5. firefighter
6. night dreamer
7. doodle bear maker
8. teacher (I had to prompt this one!)
9. toy store maker
10. robot maker

Yep, there it is. My best future life through the eyes of children. .. Actually, I could just about jump on board with #6 night dreamer. I suppose it’s conveniently ambiguous and I hardly know of anyone with such a job title, but is that really required?

Anyway, this made me laugh a little.

Well, I’ve written and re-written this entry at least 10 times but it never published. I wanted to just share that merely a day after I wrote about losing $20, I received a bright spring-pink card in my grandma’s familiar hand. Folded between stories of spring, grandpa’s bus tales, and the new garden was $20. And just in time for my trip to Indy.

It always amazes me when others are especially attuned to those nudges!

Thank you grandparents!

—- I wrote this on Monday and I’m just now posting it! —-

I have no idea where to begin. I’m chuckling to myself because I’m cat/house sitting this week (Spring Break) and I’ve had no problem finding topics of interest to share with Jack and Louis. I suppose they are the ones chuckling at all my rambled processing.

Today I think I saw what my life would be like if I lived alone. I woke up and went to a meeting, then I stopped for coffee and read an independent newspaper. Then it was off to my house, where I spent the morning cleaning the kitchen, fridge, floors, and emptying trash, all to the tunes of Tristan Prettyman and the Postal Service. I set a placemat for one and ate my lunch while watching a clever fellow from the travel channel sample meat-bone stew from New Mexico. After savoring my jasmine green tea, I went on a recycling run – which yielded a $1.90 profit. …I could go on, but I could that ever get boring:)! In any case, I’m on my second cup of coffee right now, listening to Chopin’s Waltz #14 in E Minor. My mind seems to be mulling things over much like a magician rolls a coin back and forth through his fingers.

This past weekend was beautifully blessed. Laughter truly is of the Lord! It has to be. Though, at times, merely an affection, laughter decorates joyful hearts and gently lifts the head of sorrow. I spent time relaxing. This is no longer a hard thing to believe. I used to make a big ordeal out of my stopping to breathe, rest, relax, and regroup. I realize this is silly and most times a cry for pity – to make a display of just how busy I really was and how much time I didn’t save for myself. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s true and let me tell you – it’s much, much better to forget that game and enjoy the busy times just as deeply as the relaxing times.

My Indianapolis friends are some of the most generous I know. They grafted me in to their routine for the few days and it felt wonderful to be a part of their community. There are so many blessings as part of God’s family – Paul must have (at times) leapt inside as he traveled about joining in the eclectic praise of different communities!

I know, I know. Usually someone follows a dull story quickly with the always exciting, “…and then I found (insert any amount) dollars!” This little tactic is thought to make a detailed, drab anecdote worth all the listening. Well, unfortunately this anecdote starts out quite opposite. I really did lose $20, but I figure since I’ve probably found $20 at some point in my life it’s fitting that I should lose it too. Now, someone else gets to go around adding $20 worth of excitement to the end of their less than story-worthy tales!

It happened on Monday. It was the most gorgeous day! I mean blue sky, sunshine, and the savory smell of new life about to burst through the surface was dancing on the breeze. I finished class and couldn’t stand to think of staying inside. So, I called my friend Shyle (like Kyle with a sh) and decided to go a bit early to her and Nate’s game night. What glorious fun times of laughter and love!! We made pizza, danced to KT Tunstall, rode bikes to 3 different gas stations to find air, watched the boys longboard for two seconds and took as many breaths of fresh-filled air as was possible.

Then some adventurers in the bunch decided we should go adventuring to the beach. We took off, parked our cars at Rosy Mound, and walked through the forest – up the ravines, through the trees, and always on the snow-covered path. Nate was nice enough to find me a walking stick, which saved me more than one tumble, I’m sure! The night was dark, but still and calm. We talked of music, years past, and humor seeped through our shaky footsteps. We made it down the many steps to the beach, where I instantly began scheming ways we might build a fire. Unfortunately, my mad science and technology skills could not make flame from sand and water. Whoever could come up with a clever invention that could make sand and water combust would surely be one for textbooks!

Anyway, after we trudged back the long trail and made it to our cars, I must have pulled out my keys and in the same motion pulled out the $20 bill. I’m sure it fluttered to the ground unnoticed in the dark. And then I lost $20. And that’s the end of the story. …

Whew – that story took awhile. I really need to update on what is happening “in other news.” Like, my upcoming final interview with Teach for America, my encounter with a wonderful audio sermon series entitled, “Walking in the Will of God,” my 3-day trip to Indianapolis starting tomorrow, and Spring Break – which is next week!

The Lord is good! My dad arrived safely late Sunday evening from Kenya and I can’t wait to hear of his travels! Okay – more updates sure to come, until then peace and grace to all!

I wasn’t a fool. I knew as sure as the sun shining in the blue sky that Spring could not be so soon. Sadly, the green buds breaking the sopping surface didn’t get the memo.

In any case, today is a day of fierce winds and swirling snowflakes. I have finished my classes for the day and I’m headed to relax for a bit. I thought if I wrote a mini-update I would feel less overwhelmed the next time I sat down.

Here are just a few things I’ve been jotting down and meaning to write on:
——
The other day in chapel I joined voices to lift up praises of a seasoned, savory sort. I have always felt the Body drawn together in connecting with the words and people of our past. The song, “I’ll Fly Away” is one of those eloquent and sure reminders that is just as true as it was then: our life here on earth is inextricably wound up in our life eternal. Mmm… and amen!
——
This is just a mind-picture I’ve been tossing around (not to be confused with reactance theory or social facilitation which are also being senselessy jostled about up there). It’s an analogy of sorts involving our lives being like tissue paper. Alone the paper has no special magnificence. I mean, it serves its purpose as decoration and enhancing aesthetics on gifts, but alone it holds little interest. But, for those who enjoy crafts, you know that tissue paper can be combined to make something quite beautiful. I guess the crafter usually uses modge podge, but for the sake of my analogy I want to use water. Tissue paper, when water is added, takes on a truer color. Even the faintest touch of water gradually consumes the whole piece, bringing new attraction and a transparent quality. Maybe this is completely overboard (I’m a bit rusty as far as analogies go), but it speaks to me about the beauty of the Holy Spirit’s presence (or consumption) of my life.
——
Real quickly. .. I was standing in the Gathering last week (our college’s Sunday night service) and as we started to sing I had the overwhelming urge to move. The music was not just speaking to my mind and lips, but it was asking to burst through my fingers and stretch through my toes. I pictured the extensions of praise through movement and dance and immediately had to crawl over several others to find more space. I walked to the back of the chapel and quickly lost my nerve. I found a half-empty pew and without looking at anyone around me just took up the space by stretching my arms and face toward heaven. I didn’t end up dancing. But, I haven’t quite figured it out… there’s something about worship consuming my entire being, all of my faculties. The music of my soul rises up and doesn’t just seek notes, but the movement of life. I feel most alive when I can sense my muscles stretching, reaching, moving to the sound of an eternal, holy chorus.
(call it ‘new age’ or call me a little too ‘in touch’ … but there is such joy here!)
———
I have to add a funny story here!
Just this past week, I got a call from my mom saying that friends of the family were coming to Hope with their daughter for a college visit and I should be expecting a phone call. Well, being a senior myself and knowing the stress of my own decision four years ago, I was more than happy to share my experiences.

I talked to the mom and we arranged to meet for lunch in the campus cafe. I went to chapel that morning as usual and sat with my friend. This was one of those days I felt the Lord calling my arms to flail and legs to bounce. After this wonderful time of worship, I did a little homework and then set out to meet the expectant senior with parents in tow.

Sure enough, as I was walking towards them the mom said, “So, you’re the one that was dancing in front of us in chapel today!” (Nice to meet you too!)
What a laugh!

Well, that’s all I’ve got. I am hoping to not be swept away this weekend. I know Iowa has it real bad as well!

After this week is over I will have babysat 5/7 days and twice on one day! I know – it may seem like I’m a little anxious to move on to another phase of my life, but never fear! I think I’m realizing what my sister found out in NY – it’s going to be awhile. a long while! 🙂

The soft, feathery flakes disappeared almost as gently as the fell as I walked into the library.

I have a list right now, sure. I have tests, papers, and a bit of research that involves Automotive Mechanics (which I’m especially excited about!)

But right now, I’m taking time. I’m going to reflect on some things that deserve reflecting. Like the big, bold puffs falling from the sky. We’re under a “Heavy Snow Warning” and I think, seriously, what don’t they have a warning for these days? Well, I love it. I like hearing the muffled crunch beneath my warm boots and I like nuzzling into my scarf with my hat pulled down to my eyebrows.

I enjoy this season, but it sure comes with its, well, falls. Last Friday night I went snowboarding. I had worked up such an expectation of thrill, excitement, and even injury that I was practically bursting with anticipation. I had my vintage snowpants on, a bottle of aspirin, and the best coach I could find (my brother:)… I was ready. AND it was amazing! I had an amazing time and survived without too many bruises. I fell and tumbled, but my friend Chelsea and I felt like all-stars by the time we were through (if we didn’t look at the 11-year-olds carving down the hills like crazies!).

It’s most ironic that the real story of the weekend happened Saturday morning. I felt muscles in my neck and arms that I didn’t know were there as I woke up. But, nothing too bad. .. Until I filled my hands and tried to race down our back steps. If you’ve ever seen Home Alone, then picture the steps completely covered in ice and the fool that didn’t see it. He was flung into the air and then gravity not-so-gracefully brought him back hard. Well, this is precisely what happened to me! My left bum is bruised and swollen still today. If I’m in strictly female company, I’ll show it to gasps and wide eyes. It’s probably the biggest bruise I’ve ever seen. I’m just glad it’s not lower, or I’d have to carry around one of those silly bum cushions!

Now I am feeling a teensy bit of the pressure to accomplish my list this afternoon, so I’ll have to leave it at this, but there is so much more!

God is good, all the time. I guess that sums it up. Whether I see the good or bad in my day, I know that God is good and all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called to His purpose. I know that I manipulate and construe things to mean more or less than God intended, when what He wants from me is simple: my heart, mind, soul, and strength.

Amen and amen.