It's the end of the semester as we know it, but I don't feel fine

As you faithful Life at Luther blog readers have probably noticed there haven't been any new postings in awhile. That's because it is the end of the semester and it has been crazy! I have only one paper left to write before I am home free for Christmas break, but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. Why does that happen? One paper! That's all. But my brain seems to have turned to mush and I can't motivate myself to work on it anymore. In this case I did not save the best for last, I saved the paper I am most worried about for last. So I am writing this blog as a way to procrastinate any further work on this one particular paper.

One week ago I believed it would take a small miracle to complete everything I had left to do before I head home. Now, slowly but surely, I have worked my way up to the last 24 hours and the last written assignment. It's the brink of freedom. I'm so close, yet it seems so, oh so, far away from two weeks of sleeping in and reading for fun. It's amazing the many other things I seemed to have found time for in the last couple of days, knowing full well I should be working on this paper. I found time to wrap all of my Christmas presents. I have found time to sort through and file old paperwork that has been sitting in a pile for months. I have found time to dust every surface in my apartment and run updates all the software on my computer. But there just hasn't seemed to be time to write this paper for some reason...hmmmm...

For now I have to just keep my eye on the prize and my nose in the books and hopefully soon this will all be in the past. Why does it just seem like such an impossible task all of the sudden???

It's the most wonderful time of the year

So every day, I sit on the couch at my apartment and see this beautiful Christmas tree. Except I can't concentrate much on how beautiful it is or how happy I am about Christmas coming because I'm too busy whittling away at the massive amount of papers and projects that are due this week and next week at Luther Seminary.

I should warn you upfront that this blog entry will be neither exciting nor well thought out. I'm writing it fast because I've got lots of other stuff to do. But it's been way too long since I've submitted an entry, and this end-of-the-semester mayhem is clearly the overwhelming issue for me right now.

Normally I really love December. Not only is Christmas coming, but so is my birthday. In a matter of days. And I'm still excited about that. But mostly, I'm overwhelmed.

A lot of this is my fault. If I could have managed my time better during the semester, I could have had a lot of this schoolwork done in advance. I will admit that I'm a procrastinator, as my new friends at Luther are beginning to realize. I'm not proud of it, and I'm trying to change it. But the whole procrastinating thing is also a side affect of some of my priorities, like not letting important things and important people fall by the wayside because of schoolwork. I've had a lot of meaningful conversations — theological and otherwise — with friends new and old this semester that wouldn't have come to be if I was more constantly focused on course work. And there has been that classic finals/holiday-season struggle between studying and Christmas shopping. I also tend to bite off way too much work at any given time. And my brain is wired as such that when I get a project started (even belatedly), I care about it enough that I demand every moment available to do a good job on it. But that pushes back my schedule and rushes me even more with the next project.

And then there are some time-stealing factors outside my control, like that jolly, old symbol of this particular season: the stomach flu. I got the flu (it might have been food poisoning; I'm not going to give you the details and ask you to diagnose it for me) on Sunday night, as I was finishing up a presentation on Count Zinzendorf that was due Monday. Thanks to the nasty symptoms, I had to stay home from classes on Monday — the only lucky thing was that my instructor who assigned the presentation canceled our class at the last minute, so I ended up giving the presentation today. And yesterday, as my body was starting to work right again, my car wouldn't. I had to spend almost all day trying to study at the Roseville Library and the Har Mar Mall while the auto guys figured out how to get the key out my car's ignition. Oh, and when I got home, there was a fire alarm at my apartment building, but I won't complain about that because nothing burned down.

Anyway, I'm not entirely bummed about all this work in the midst of what should be the most wonderful time of the year. To be a seminary student is a terrific blessing, and having these challenging opportunities to learn is really a great thing. I'm reminding myself of all the people and things I'm grateful for in my life and looking forward to a little more than a week from now when I can focus on them (and this beautiful Christmas tree) more when Christmas comes. Until then, I'll cling to that classic piece of pastors' advice: Take it one day at a time.

And I think I've got my New Year's Resolution figured out. I'll give you a hint: It involves not procrastinating. After all, I don't think I could be more persistent about washing my hands to prevent the flu.

An Epic Journey, Every Monday

My Monday evenings begin with a bus ride. Right after my Exercises in Biblical Theology class I jump on the #3 bus on Como Ave and head towards St. Paul. I love riding the bus for many reasons. My love affair with public transportation actually began the summer I did CPE at the San Francisco Veterans Hospital. In order to get from the apartment we were subletting in the Mission district to the hospital which overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge, I had an hour long bus commute through the city. After awhile, the commute became the most therapeutic of ways to begin and end my day at CPE. That's fodder for another posting, so back to St. Paul.

The bus is the way that I begin my epic journey into another world, from the classrooms and theories and intellectual debates at the seminary to the dimly lit basement of the Riverside Branch of the St. Paul Public Libraries and the life of immigrant teenagers. This year, I have been volunteering as a tutor for the Homework Centers. From the hours of 5-7 on Monday evenings you can find me in the SHAC (Students Homework and Activities Center) in the basement of the Riverside Public Library in the Districto del Sol in St. Paul. I mostly work with new immigrants to the US and the children of first generation immigrants to the US on their math or english homework. Pretty much every student I work with is fluently bilingual, slipping easily between English and Spanish or English and Swahili as we work our way through fractions and 5 paragraph essays and cover letters and even chemistry.

It's a humbling experience in many ways. First of all, it makes me realize just how much I have forgotten since high school. I know that at some point I knew the equation for velocity, but I sure don't anymore, at least not off the top of my head. Second of all, try explaining a ratio to someone who barely speaks English. Or how about helping a 16 year old immigrant from Ethiopia write an essay on the ramifications of transcendentalism in the US. It's a challenge every time I come. Tutoring is a grounding experience because I am asked to put theory into practice--part of my job is to try and connect with teenagers who are struggling with poverty and gangs and teen pregnancy and drug use and life in the US and finishing their homework. It's not the world I grew up in, that's for sure.

Some days are more difficult than others. Some days I feel totally useless. Other days, the smiles of Andrea and Pedro and Hakim and Ali- when they actually understand something new- might as well be the smiles of angels. In all honesty I don't do that much for them. Most of the time, they already know the answers, they are just looking for some reassurance that they are on the right track. That's why I keep going, even though sometimes I know that it might be more time-effective to finish my own homework or get the errands run. Even those days I convince myself ahead of time that I'm not going to make it to the east side of the river that day, I still always seem to end up there, struggling through their homework with them, learning a lot in the process, and being reminded of just what a gift a smile can be. If you are interested in learning more about tutoring in St. Paul, visit www.sppl.org/homework.

Where did it go... the time that is!

OK. I feel compelled to write on this topic based on the shear fact that I have not written on a topic in quite awhile. I know that there are many who would agree that time has flown since Thanksgiving. It is even more mind boggling to think that the semester will be over in less than two weeks. I know the Junior Class is freaking out with their very first round of finals in seminary. The Middler Class is freaking out about getting their paperwork done for CPE, or preparing for their cross cultural experience. The Interns are probably still figuring out where they fit in at their church, and the Senior Class is facing the reality that they have to get full-time jobs and figure out the next step in their life.

I guess we would not understand what it means to be a grad student without this time crunch at the end of every semester. Do other grad students face the same issues that we face as seminary students? I hear many of my fellow students comment on how much work that they have to do that never counts for a credit, or I hear about the times that they feel so unproductive. Then when you take a closer look into the life of a seminarian, there is a very good chance that they are involved in a lot more than just studying here.

Some are full time parents, others have spouses at home. There are some who work at least 20 hours a week and others that spend their free time being available for others on this campus. There are others who make themselves available to help people with their classwork. There are some who coordinate social activities, and there are others that form partnerships between the students and faculty. But what I see most of the time are people growing, developing, and learning from and about others. You see, there is a lot of learning that goes on in the classrooms here at Luther, but I would argue that just as much learning takes place outside of them as well. So when I hear my fellow students talk about how much they feel they have not accomplished during the day, I remind them of what they do on a regular basis.

Now back to the escape of time, where did it go and why are we encouraged to fill up every minute of our lives? Are we afraid of what we would be left with if we had nothing to do? I am just as guilty as the next person who fills their day to the brim with doing things. My saving grace is when I do get those moments where I get to catch up with friends, we may laugh or we may cry, but in the end those are the times that really matter.

Adventures in Babysitting

My husband Kevin and I are seasoned babysitters. Both of us entered the working world as pre-teens with careers in babysitting the neighbor kids. For me it was the two little toddler neighbor boys who had lisps and perpetually called me "Thawah." For Kevin it was the same, only they called him "Tebin." Even though we have doubled in age, we are still babysitting, though less as a career and more just for fun until we start our own family. Last week we babysat two little girls for the first time who, though rather shy, seemed to warm up to us pretty quickly. Yet, when it was time for bed the younger one turned to see Kevin, only to have her little eyes fill with fear. She then proceeded to point at Kevin and sob. So Kevin spent the rest of the evening reading the paper while I changed diapers and read stories. Kevin's feelings might have been just a little hurt, but then their parents later explained that she doesn't seem to like men with beards.

Then last night we babysat our old buddies Nathaniel and Hannah. We've known these two kids for over three years now--we met them at my first contextual education site. We haven't actually spent a lot of time with them in a few years, since we have been away from the Twin Cities, so we weren't sure what to expect. When we met them they were very small and shy 3 and 5 year olds with glasses. Now that they are 6 and 8 they are, for all practical purposes, "all grown-up." We no longer have to help them brush their teeth or change their clothes. Their baby lisps are gone, so they actually call us "Sarah and Kevin" and they no longer have toddler glasses, they have "cool" glasses with funky colors and designs. But as the night went on we realized that some things have remained the same--Hannah still likes to tell story after story about her friends at school and still has the same doll. Nathaniel still likes to be read to and twirl my hair with his fingers while I do so and is still IN LOVE with the Minnesota Twins. All in all, it was really fun, and it felt pretty neat to know that they still liked having us around to play Tickle Monster and tell them goodnight stories. It kind of made me realize that even though kids grow up fast, some things don't seem to change.

Where's some manna when you need it?

I am struggling with my Clinical Pastoral Education essays. How many times have applications asked you to summarize your life in 500 words or less? Can a person be captured in such a miniscule piece of writing? What do you put in or keep out?

And I need to finish this before I go home for Christmas break. I need to write these essays along with all the assignments for my other classes. At times the weight of all this writing collapses around my hands and stymies my ability to think or type.

I ask myself, "How many more times will this happen in my life? How many times will I be shuffled off to another institution to have my square edges routered off for the round hole?"

At times like these I can imagine why the Israelites complained so much to God. They were stuck wandering around in the middle of the desert. They lived out of tents. They ate bread off the ground everyday. It sounds rather monotonous.

But these are the paper deserts through which we must cross in order to reach the Promised Land of internship, college, or career. Between here and there, the desert stretches out, but the River Jordan is approaching and soon we'll be in the milk and honey of another work site. Press on! Dear traveler, press on! Your rest is coming.