A New Year

Yes, it’s New Year’s Eve and I am at home writing for Life at Luther. I guess my social life isn’t as bustling as it used to be, but I’m ok with that. Going out on New Year’s Eve gets pretty crazy, and the freezing rain we’ve been having in Minnesota today doesn’t help.

I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions, or even on noticing that we’re entering a new calendar year. I tend to be more reflective around my birthday, or other significant dates in my life. Therefore, I don’t have any deep insights right now—I’m just excited for whatever this new year brings, and especially excited that the days are getting longer again!

I’ve spent a good part of this post-Christmas week reading for my January term class, which starts on Monday. I’m through most of the reading for the first week, and am finding that I’m more excited about the class than I originally thought. It’s a systematic theology class, Jesus the Savior. I guess that’s an important topic and should be exciting, as dense as the readings are sometimes. Some of the language brings back memories of my days as a philosophy major, so it’s not altogether a foreign language. Yet the challenge is what I talked about in an earlier post—studying a deep and endless topic in such a way as to make it accessible and relevant to ministry in the church.

Speaking of the church…one of the new things I look forward to this year is helping to teach the Discover Jesus class at my church that I had been observing this fall, and which prompted my post about making theology practical. It’s one thing to sit on the sidelines taking notes and observing participants, wondering if they are “getting it,” and quite another to be handed a topic such as “Why did Jesus have to die?” and figuring out how you would explain it. I have yet to meet with the teaching team at my church to see who will be teaching which topics, but whatever I end up with, I expect it to be a great opportunity to put into practice all that I’m learning in seminary, keeping in mind the diverse audience of largely new believers that attend the class.

So, I am not making any grand long-term goals for the New Year—just taking it one step at a time. Between a J-term intensive class and preparing to participate more actively at my church starting in February, I have plenty to do for the moment. Besides, recently many things in my life seem to change last minute, or turn out quite differently than I expected, so I am learning to wait and not hold on to plans with a very tight grip. The planner in me hates that, but it does make room for the unexpected, which is often better than what I had planned!

Reflections on Home

It’s interesting that Mattias wrote about “home,” because I’ve been pondering that as well. I think the concept of “home” is bigger than a physical place, having more to do with where one feels welcome and can be him/herself.

On Sunday I preached at small Spanish-speaking congregation that began about 2 years ago as a ministry of Calvary Baptist church in Roseville. It was my first time back in a Spanish-speaking church since I left the one I had been a part of for 5 years in September. It was an odd clash of feelings to go back to the type of setting that I have had most of my ministry experience in, yet at the same time to be aware that I am in another culture, preaching in a second language. Nonetheless, going back to a Hispanic church to preach felt more comfortable than going to preach at the Lutheran church I grew up in, simply because the former is what I have gotten used to, and where I’ve largely developed my own ministerial identity.

To make the experience more interesting, apparently the young man that was left in charge of the service in the pastor’s absence had no idea who was coming to speak, and announced that they had a special guest speaker there from Mexico. I waited a moment to see if anyone got up, thinking there might have been a change of plans, but when no one moved I waved my hand and proceeded to introduce myself. I was in fact the guest speaker, not from Mexico but from the neighboring suburbs, not visiting a different country yet invited into a different culture.

Or is it? How far do clear cultural distinctions hold up when everyone there operates in several different cultures at once? Yes, there are members who came from Latin America, but now Minnesota is their home, and their kids are growing up here. In fact, the kids from the Hispanic church go to the English-speaking Sunday School with the kids of the host church, which has their service at the same time. And as I looked at the small crowd of about 9 people gathered for the sermon, I realized that about half of them were non-Hispanic young women from the host church who are bilingual and come to support this new church start. So who is truly at “home” here, and which is the host culture?

I think something very interesting is happening in the church in our country—people of various cultural backgrounds are coming together around a common purpose and forming something new, which reflects aspects of all the cultures involved. This is beautiful, yet challenging at times. It takes good communication, patience, and mutual understanding to create an environment is which everyone feels they can be themselves and call the new church body “home.”

Back home! (or is it?)

We live in a time of technical wonders. One week ago at 12:55 p.m. (local time) I got on a plane to Sweden, 8 a.m. (local time) I arrived in Sweden 12 hours later. In just 12 hours I had traveled to the other side of the planet, left my American friends, the culture and the language to meet my Swedish friends, culture and language.
Suddenly I'm back in Sweden again.
I received a warm welcome and the friends I was staying with (in my apartment in Sweden) had actually cleaned the place before I arrived (Well done guys!). I almost felt guilty for buying them a sign saying "Man-Cave" "Enter with caution", almost.
I received a very warm welcome especially when I went to my old home-congregation later the same day. With people throwing their arms around me and hugging me (yeah, we do that in Sweden, it's kinda weird...) and welcoming me "home" and some of them, the ones I'm closest to, inviting me to their homes. The latter was especially welcome, since I'd lost my luggage on the flight to Sweden (got stuck in Chicago, again...). I got my luggage back 38 hours after arriving in Sweden though, so with the help of a friend being kind enough to lend me some clothes that hadn't been stuck on me for over 24 hours I managed (note to self though, be sure to include laptop recharger in hand-luggage next time).
I also had the pleasure of visiting Johannelund (my theological Seminary in Sweden) since they didn't close for Christmas until December 22. It felt weird, yet familiar to walk in the corridors of my old school and greet professors and students alike.
After meeting quite a lot of friends I traveled to Skåne (the area south of Sweden) to see my father and my relatives on his side. Once again I was welcomed with the "Welcome home" phrase. I was very happy to see them, and I'm sure they were happy to see me. As I mentioned in an earlier post Christmas was a bit different this year since I actually didn't have to travel on Christmas Eve (in Sweden Christmas Eve is the day when we celebrate Christmas and get our presents, stay tuned for a "Swedish Christmas" blog special). On Christmas day I went to my mother in Växjö (Vaeckstjou), where I am now, in the southeast of Sweden to celebrate a second Christmas. For the third time since my arrival in Sweden I was greeted with a "Welcome home" phrase leading me to ponder the question "where is my home"?
The simple answer is that home is where you live. Since I have lived in the US for the last 4 months should my room at Luther Seminary be considered home? How about Uppsala where I have lived and studied for 4 years and do have an apartment (even though I don't live there for the time being and all my possessions have been moved out)? Or is home where family is? The problem in my case would then be that my family lives in different places and the fact that my family (both parts) have moved since I moved away from my parents. Meaning I have no old familiar room to get back to and no old house were I spent my childhood. Home for me must therefore be something different than where family or where I reside.
Taking this into account I have come the the conclusion that home must be where I feel at home, it's neither a specific building nor specific people that makes it home, but it may aid the feeling of being home. For instance even though I do not have any specific place to call home during my Christmas break in Sweden, I still feel like I'm back home!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Christmas

Merry Christmas everyone!

My family has always celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, which is a wonderful tradition, but can make Christmas day seem a little bit anti-climactic. So, since I have some down time, why not write for the blog?

Christmas Eve Day began early for me…cooking! I like to cook, so I enjoy holidays when I have some more free time to do it and a captive audience to eat whatever I make! My brother and I are mostly vegetarians, so I specialize in meat-free dishes. Yesterday I made my second attempt at the eggplant lasagna I made on Thanksgiving. My entire culinary life has been revolutionized by the Magic Bullet I got for Christmas last year! The most laborious part of cooking for me has always been chopping the many veggies I love to throw into dishes, and with my bullet, it’s nearly a breeze. So, I made homemade tomato sauce, shred my block of mozzarella, made some hummus, and whipped fresh cream for dessert in much less time than it would normally take (I am not being paid to promote this product!).

After many hours of cooking, it was nice to relax before going to Christmas Eve service at my parent’s church. In the midst of the holiday busy-ness, I’m glad that we haven’t lost the tradition of taking some time out to actually reflect on Jesus at Christmas. I think the service is my favorite part of Christmas—candles, singing Silent Night, gathering around the communion table and holding hands with people, etc. It made me reflect on how some day, when I hopefully am a pastor, I would like to combine elements both of the Lutheran tradition I grew up in and the “non-denominational” movement I’m a part of now. I think the variety is good, and I like the idea of introducing people to different worship practices that deepen our spiritual lives.

So, we went to church, ate dinner, and opened gifts. It was nice, and it kept me up until 11pm, which is way past my bedtime! Today’s a good day to relax and maybe go see a movie, since that’s about all that’s open. As much as I enjoy Christmas, there is also a feeling of relief when it’s done. It seems like a lot of preparation for a day that flies by. Hopefully we all can take time this Christmas to reflect on why we as Christians really celebrate—something that’s often buried beneath the shopping and the cooking and the traveling. I guess I’ll have more time to think about that as I polish up my sermon for tomorrow...

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to all!
May you find comfort in family, joy in giving, and hope in the coming of the Lord, Jesus Christ!

Some thoughts on cooking.

I love to cook. For me, cooking is not simply a means to an end, and eating is not simply for fuel. There is joy and pleasure in the process. Fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy toast in the morning, a gourmet sandwich for lunch, or a golden roasted chicken and root vegetables to bring the day to a close--I'll try cooking just about everything. There's something about the preparation of the mise-en-place, filled with careful planning and order, that gets my attention. But the actual cooking, the messy art, is what is most seductive to me. Gently coating a pan with olive oil. Searching for the perfect caramel-colored crust on a juicy steak. Coaxing out the natural flavors of local vegetables--onions, spinach, etc... Seeking a pleasing harmony from the cacophony of flavors available. Presenting the dish in such a way that one cannot help but have both their eyes and forks drawn to the plate. Out of the literal chaos and sweat and fire arises something beautiful (sometimes).

(from italyinsf.com)

And then, like a poet setting a work free to an audience, the meal now becomes something outside of you. It will either be savored and cherished, or sped through and consumed. Cooking is meant to feed and to please, of course. But regardless of a cook's talent (or lack thereof, in my case), it is their own passion for the process that delights them...and that keeps them cooking. And that's pretty awesome, I think.

“Final” Reflections

So here I am, writing once again in the midst of a snowstorm. I guess I don’t mind being snowed in as much now that I am almost done with finals, and have finished the Tuesday night class I was helping with at my Teaching Congregation.

For as much as I plan and hope to get final papers done before the very last day they are due, it rarely happens. It’s that darn perfectionist in me. So here I am, putting the last touches on my Prophets paper, which is due today. I’ve been working on it since Thursday. That’s both the good thing and the danger of having 5 days after everything else is due to write my last paper! Yet I am not so much writing the paper for the class as for myself, since the professor told us not to try to impress him, but write something useful for ourselves. It’s nice to have that freedom, so I’m taking him up on it and writing about how my own life has been impacted by studying the prophets--a topic I’ve felt brewing all semester, but now have the incentive to sit down and write out.

So, if the snow lets up tomorrow I’ll try to get out and do what little Christmas shopping I do. It’s hard to believe Christmas is this weekend, especially since I’m just finishing the semester today. And in the midst of it all, I almost keep forgetting that I’ve been invited to preach at a church the day after Christmas. It’s a fairly new Spanish-speaking congregation in Roseville, where I was first invited to preach in August. It was an awesome experience of seeing how God gave me a message to preach that was in line with what the congregation had been studying. I never know quite what to expect when I’m a guest preacher somewhere, especially in newer churches where the membership seems to be constantly shifting. Not knowing your audience and not using a lectionary just makes depending on God more exciting!

So after Christmas and my sermon preparation is past, I’ll have just a week to get ready for my J-term intensive class. The professor sent the syllabus out near the beginning of November, so I got the hint that I should probably start reading ahead of time. So with Christmas coming up, preaching, New Year’s, and lots of Jürgen Moltmann reading, this break will probably fly by. I still plan to enjoy every minute of it, reminding myself that this is what I signed up for when I came to seminary!

Snowed In

As anyone who lives in the upper Midwest knows, it snowed a lot last weekend. Apparently, we haven’t had snow like this since the Halloween blizzard of 1991 (which I remember well—it was my last year of trick-or-treating!). I don’t think many people did or could go anywhere last Saturday, unless it was absolutely necessary. We were all “trapped” at home.

While I’m not a big fan of winter, I appreciate the life reflection this storm occasioned for me. Especially in this country, so many of us are accustomed to the illusion that we are in control of our lives and our world. If you need something, you go out and buy it. If you want to “improve” yourself, you can get an education and supposedly, a better job. And if a “normal” snowfall occurs in Minnesota, you just get out the plows and shovels and go back to work. Not this past Saturday. I hope I wasn’t the only one who was reminded that nature is still powerful, and we aren’t ultimately in control of our own lives.

Reading Mattias’ post and watching the news about Sweden reaffirms my thoughts on this. What we consider to be our “safe place” can unexpectedly become filled with uncertainty. Unthinkable events can happen in our personal lives that disrupt the course we thought we were on. And the roof of the Metrodome can collapse and postpone the football game! While that is one of life’s lesser tragedies, I think it is a miracle that no one was hurt in the collapse.

Last week my discipleship group was reflecting on the meaning of advent. I don’t think about this very much, not being at a liturgical church that follows the church year closely. But this snowstorm made me think: part of advent, part of waiting, is recognizing our need for a Savior. We can’t do everything on our own, are we are ultimately not in control of our own lives. We are created to long for something more, an ultimate hope that is not in the things of this world. We need Jesus.

It’s surprising how being shut-in for just one day made me recognize a little bit of my dependence. It was a welcomed “mini-fast” from the daily busy-ness of life. It also amazes me how anxious I was to get out and go anywhere on Sunday, once the roads were finally clear. I guess I’m a product of my culture after all, although almost being run over on the way to Target by aggressive drivers who apparently were cooped up too long made me wish (just a little) that it had snowed for another day.

An Advent Sermon

Given this past Sunday (12/12/10), centering on Psalm 146:5-10)

Brothers and Sisters, Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and from our Lord Jesus Christ, AMEN.

Picture a neighborhood. Your neighborhood. With the usual amount of people. The usual amount of children playing. The usual amount of trees dotting the lawns. The usual amount of traffic passing through. And the usual amount of joy and thanksgiving. Of course, there’s also the usual amount of hunger. The usual amount of physical and mental disability. The usual amount of lonely people. The usual amount of broken families. And the usual amount of suffering and wickedness.

Sometimes, someone new moves in next door and disrupts the usual. Someone you and your neighbors aren’t so sure about. You don’t know who they are. For all you know, they could be a very sketchy character. Then again, they could be warm and kind. You might head right over and welcome them to the neighborhood, or maybe you’ll peek out your window every once in a while to see what kind of person they are. But only time will tell how they will fit in and what kind of effect they’ll have on the neighborhood.

The season of Advent is all about God moving into our neighborhood. Through the birth of Jesus Christ, God becomes fully present among us. Now, we’re getting closer and closer to God’s move in day, and we wait and prepare for his arrival.

But what kind of neighbor will God be?

The only way we can know what kind of neighbor God will be is to learn a little about the identity of God. Today’s Psalm is a description of who God is and what God does. It tells us of the miracles God performs and promises God makes. And then it praises God for these wonders.

Right away, the psalm tells of God’s work in the world through creation. God “made heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them.” God creates. And God cares about the largest of mountains and the smallest of insects—and everything in between. Including you.

Next, the psalm reminds us that God is faithful. God promised blessings to Abraham’s descendants, God promised safety for Noah, God promised freedom for the enslaved Israelites. And God came through for them all. Today, we lift up God’s promise of a Savior. God’s promise of love for humankind. God’s promise of his full presence among us, bringing us peace, conquering death, and making us whole. It is this Savior, Jesus Christ, the one that that has come, has died, has been Resurrected, and has ascended into heaven, that God promises to send into our neighborhood. And God keeps God’s promises.

The psalm tells us that God is an active God. God does stuff. In fact, in this psalm alone, God is the subject of 11 different verbs. God makes, God keeps, God gives, God sets free, God opens, God lifts up, God loves, God cares, God sustains, God frustrates, and God shall reign forever. Quite the list, huh? Take notice of some of these words, because they reveal a lot about who God is and how God works in the world. And in our neighborhood.

God gives. God gives justice to those who are oppressed and God gives food to those who hunger.

God sets free. God sets free the trapped and captive people in our midst.

God opens. God opens doors and God opens the eyes of the blind.

God cares. God cares for the stranger and the needy when no one else will.

God sustains. God sustains the orphan and widow, and sustains us in our time of need.

Seems to me that God would be a heck of a neighbor. God transforms and heals a neighborhood and community. God puts an end to suffering and heartache. So when God moves in, God would really do some good…and probably keep a clean yard, too.

But when Jesus Christ first showed up on the scene in Bethlehem, and then made his way across the countryside and through cities, he was rarely received as the good neighbor that he is.

You see, there’s something scandalous about God. No, not some deep dark secret, hidden away behind closed doors. It's that God loves. Yes, God loves the faithful and righteous. But God also loves the outcasts, the wicked, and the down and out—God loves “those people.” This doesn’t sit so good with us. We’ve got a certain way in our neighborhood. There is its usual structure. There are the usual things we don’t talk about and the usual people we don’t talk to.

When God moves into your neighborhood, though, God shakes things up. God heals and God loves us all. Then, freed by God’s love and promise, God calls us to join in God’s good work in the neighborhood wherever we see a need. This can be quite the challenge, but through God’s love for us, God equips us for the work.

Luckily, God doesn’t just move in, do his thing, and move out. No, the psalm proclaims that “the Lord shall reign forever…throughout all generations.” Because of God’s deep love for us, God sticks by us. God moves into our neighborhood and makes it his own. God moves into our neighborhood, fills it with love, stirs up its people, and works for the wholeness of the community.

Brothers and Sisters in Christ, God has signed the last of the closing documents. God has finished packing. The moving truck is in route. God is moving to your neighborhood. Things are gonna change.

Halleluiah, Halleluiah.

AMEN.

Back home...

Dear readers!
The semester is at an end. In a few days I will be done with my finals and afterwards I will go back to Sweden to celebrate Christmas. It's been a fun semester and I have learned a lot and have had a lots of new experiences, both in my studies here at Luther and as a Swedish exchange student living in the US. It is hard to believe that it's already time to go back to old Sweden again. It's been interesting to see my home country not only from the inside, but from the outside. I have also learned that life goes on in Sweden without me, both in a good and a bad way. The most recently bad thing happened yesterday(Saturday) when the impossible happened in Sweeden. At 5 pm (local time) Stockholm was struck by blasts after an email warning to the Swedish people about Sweden sending soldiers to Afghanistan and the silence regarding the cartoons of Muhammad drawn by Lars Vilks. This is unreal, the peaceful and stable society of Sweden who hasn't seen war for over 100 years is suddenly attacked and threated with terrorism!
Luckily it could have been far worse, since only one person was killed (the man who set the charges) and two other people were injured. For me, as a Swedish citizen, it is not what could have happened that is the most frightening, it is the simple fact that it happened. My safe and peaceful home country suddenly doesn't feel as peaceful and safe anymore...
Things are changing in the world. There is one thing we can take for granted however, our Lord, who is the same yesterday, today and forever!

Missing traditions

I’ve found it interesting how reading some of the posts on this blog have influenced my own blogging. I was reading Jenny’s post from Tuesday and started thinking about my own traditions.

I am one of those people that clings to traditions, especially now that I have children. Traditions mark the passage of time and celebrate the rites we experience in each phase of our lives. I’m not adverse to new things and I am always willing to try something new, but there are some things that have just “always been that way” and I don’t want to change those things. I love traditions so much that I can actually hear my husband’s eyes roll when I tell him (in good Lutheran fashion), “That’s an interesting idea, but let’s do it this way because that’s the way it’s always been done.”

This year, though, I find myself clinging to traditions that no longer exist. In February, my mom died. Last Christmas I remember thinking to myself, “This may be the last time we do this,” but I refused to acknowledge what would really be different. This year I am struggling as these traditions I have lived with for so long (some of them for my whole life) won’t be the same. I’m struggling as I realize that I need to start at ground zero and make new traditions with my own family. How do you continue the same old traditions when the person who led those traditions is gone? The family dynamics of grief are also affecting how we (my father, brother and I along with our own families) are interacting with these traditions. When grief is so new and still raw, how do we do what we’ve “always done?”

I’m sure that right now you’re anxiously waiting for my appropriate essay conclusion that tells you how my family has made it through this and how excited I am for the new traditions. Yeah, that would be a lie. We’re still struggling. I don’t have the answers for how to make new traditions when most of the old traditions have crumbled around me. All that I know is that I have to take it one day at a time and I know the prospect of having to do that sucks.

Traditions

This is the time of year to celebrate traditions. As I was thinking about it, I realized how few traditions I seem to participate in. Perhaps the best marker of this advent season for me is: finals! This has become a tradition for me since starting at Luther, an important marker that another semester has come to a close and a chance to recognize that growth and learning that has taken place. Ok, that sounds really nerdy—the real perk of finals is realizing you’re almost done with classes and a break is soon to follow!

Actually, compared to other semesters my “finals” load is surprisingly bearable, and quite enjoyable. I have a final Bible study to prepare for my Paul class, which is due this week. Then, I have a final paper for both my Pastoral Care class and my Prophets class. They are short papers and should be fun, and they are due a week apart, so I can focus on one thing at a time. This is the first time that I have no final tests, and in fact, I have not had any tests all semester. I’m definitely enjoying it!

Since I’m not overwhelmed with finals, I had time on Saturday to participate in one family tradition: the Latvian Bizarre (my mom is from Latvia—she came here as a refugee from World War II). Twice a year, my family enjoys going to this event at the Latvian Church in Minneapolis. We eat traditional foods, including homemade baked-goods and desserts, and shop for Christmas gifts made my local Latvian artists. The church feels homey to me and reminds me of when my grandmother and other Latvian relatives were alive and we celebrated special events together. Yet at the same time I feel very removed from my own cultural heritage, since I don’t speak the language (my mom tried to teach me when I was 9, but it didn’t go so well). In any case, it’s good to remember where my family comes from, and to visit with the few relatives that have come here from Latvia in recent years.

The other tradition I have this time of year is the annual get-together with my High School friends. I just got the email today about this year’s gathering, and it keeps amazing me that even so many years after we graduated(I won’t say how many!) we still manage to get about 8-10 of us together each year, plus spouses and kids. I hardly see any of these friends throughout the rest of the year, but they are the kind of people that would be there for you if you need them. At if you miss the yearly party, you’re behind on all the gossip at least until someone has a summer BBQ or until next Christmas! Not all traditions are the best, but they are something you can pretty much count on in life nonetheless.

Some thoughts on Advent (from my church newsletter entry).

Waiting stinks, doesn't it?

We hate to wait in that line of overflowing carts at the grocery store. We hate to wait for the mail deliverer to bring that package for which we've been so excited. We hate to wait for that weekend that breaks up the humdrum days, cooped up in the office. We hate to wait.

Waiting never has, and never will be easy. There are many examples of people struggling with anxious anticipation throughout Scripture. The Israelites struggled to wait for deliverance. The followers of Jesus struggled to wait for the Resurrection. The early church struggled to wait for the second coming of our Lord. In fact, much of the Biblical witness is about waiting.

In the season of Advent, it's all about waiting. We anxiously await the birth of our Lord, and God's physical presence among us--and all the wondrous gifts he brings.

In Advent, we are invited to dwell in the process of waiting. We are invited to savor the moments of anticipation. This is quite subversive, really. Rather than go along with our culture that has already jumped to Christmas, we acknowledge and honor the coming birth of our Lord by waiting and preparing.

There is, well, a lot of crap going on among us. There are wars. There is sickness. There is poverty. There is suffering of all sorts. We need a savior--and we need one now. Take heart, brothers and sisters in Christ, for our Savior is coming! So instead of speeding through these weeks of Advent, let us focus on the coming of our Lord with expectant and joyful waiting.

O Come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to you,
O Israel.

Let us rejoice in the promised coming of our Lord, preparing our hearts, minds--and world--for his birth. Alleluia!

Milestones!

When I went to Target a couple of weeks ago I found it quite weird that they already had begun to put up Christmas trees and decorations. Christmas is still so far away, right? Especially since it's Thanksgiving before Christmas. What I didn't really reflect upon is the fact that Thanksgiving actually is quite close to Christmas!
That's something I learned about myself recently: I tend measure how much time there is until something by the events preceding it. In other words, if it weren't for the Thanksgiving celebration (and all of my final exams) Christmas wouldn't be that far away!
If I'm rational about it Christmas is only about two weeks away, meaning I'll soon return to Sweden again (fear not! I will be back for J-term!), in extension that means that I've almost already been in the US for one whole term! Time sure flies fast!

With my (temporary) homecoming so close-at-hand I though this would be a good time to write about Swedish and American traditions.
I really hadn't thought that much about traditions before coming to the US. It was just some time during the year me and my relatives would do something together. Almost the same every year. This year though, I learned that Christmas back home was going to be a little different than it used to be, something that, to my surprise, I got a little upset about. Something inside me was saying why can't it be the way it always have been?
So I guess that's what I really think about traditions, some time a year when I and my relatives do what we always do, milestones in our lives to measure to distance and the time that have passed. This year though, I got to experience a new "milestone" Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is a simple and interesting tradition. Put simply (in the eyes of a Swede) the American people meet with their family and relatives in order to think back and give thanks for what they are thankful for. The first Thanksgiving was celebrated when the first settlers in America, after having almost no food and worrying about how to survive the winter, got food (corn, turkey etc) from the Indians. The Thanksgiving today is a remembrance of that time and has also come to be a thanksgiving to God. (the opposite of Christmas in other words, since Christmas begun with celebrating the birth of Christ, and nowadays is mostly about giving and receiving gifts, for most people). Of course Thanksgiving is not without some connection to earthly possessions, something I got to experience on "Black Friday" the day after Thanksgiving. I got up quite late in comparison to most (only at 5 a.m.!) and managed to only buy things I "need" (honest!). Black Friday was a black Friday in more than one aspect though, since I also got some very bad new about some of my friends and former classmates back in Sweden. Another milestone on some people's lives...

Aside from that I had a very pleasant Thanksgiving and I'm especially thankful to the families that gave me not only one but two (!) Thanksgiving dinners and to my friend from Sweden who came to visit and share this milestone with me!

Lasts and Firsts

I'm moving into a season of "lasts."

We move to Plymouth on the 29th of this month and because of that, things are starting to wind down. We're close to the end of the fall semester (week 12 of 14, how'd that happen already?). As I'm going to full time status in the spring, this is my last semester as a DL student (which admittedly makes me a little misty to think about). Last night, I attended my last Deacon's meeting where I was able to reflect for a short time about my experience within the congregation. I spoke of the growth from volunteer to board member, then moving into a contextual education role, and finally being hired to serve as lay minister which coincided very nicely with my unit of CPE.

Speaking of CPE, I just finished writing up a verbatim. I thought it might be my last one as well, though alas, I do have one more to write up in a couple weeks.

I'm beginning to consider some of the other "lasts" that I will experience. I taught my last confirmation class a couple weeks back which surprisingly (as I consider how fearful I was to teach two years ago) was a sad deal for me. I'm preaching next weekend, which will be the final time of a "normal" worship service that I preach at. My last "official" act will be preaching at 2 of the 4 Christmas Eve services, and fitting with the theme, I'm preaching at the last one.

To be honest, I'm losing track of all the "lasts" just as I'm sure I'll lose track of all the "firsts" that I will experience over the next few months following our relocation. One comes to mind. Just the other day I registered for my first semester as a full time student. That was kinda neat, at least until I got to thinking about the first "full time" tuition bill that will come along with all those classes.

Firsts and Lasts...they are a tough reality in ministry, because we're never going to stay in one place are we? God has this funny little tendency to send us places. Personally, I blame the apostle Paul...maybe if he'd slacked off on his missionary journeys, we could all stay put...well, maybe not.

If you're wondering, here's a list of what I'll be taking next spring, and maybe I'll even throw in January term as well. Just in case you were wondering.

J-Term (likely the last time I'll get to share classes with my cohort *tear*)
The Mission of the Triune God II (better known as simply Mission 2)
Ethics I

Spring
Reform of the Church- With Walter Sunberg...aka Skip...aka one of my favorite profs to date
Worship
Truth and Meaning-my one and only online class
Foundations of Biblical Preaching
1Thessalonians and Galations
and the one fun kicker, Orientation to Internship (HOLY COW!!! HERE WE GO!!!)

Working towards being a healthy leader

I have a love-hate relationship with my son’s Wii. Normally I play Mario Kart on it, kick the kids’ butts (I’m pretty good at that game) and move on to television watching or knitting. But recently my husband was able to get us a Wii Fit. For those of you not in the know, a Wii Fit is basically a board you can stand on and play games (shifting your balance, stepping on and off, walking on the board). There are supposed to be other games you can buy to use with the board, but we’ve only been playing with the game the board came with. And those games are exercise games.

At first, I thought to myself, “Hey, self, that is awesome! You need exercise because walking from the book I’m reading for class to the fridge for a snack isn’t really exercise. Especially when the snack is pie from Thanksgiving.” I also thought maybe it would give me a push towards participating in the “Living Well at Luther” program this year (part of Healthy Leaders).

I started out happily enough (except that every time I step on the board a surprised voice from the game says, “oh” which I believe is actually the game saying, “Oh… wow, you weigh more than I expected. Maybe you should lay off of the carbs for a few weeks. Could you put one of those tiny kids back on?”). There are a lot of fun games like yoga (Apparently, I have bad balance as I find the Wii Fit repeatedly asking, “Do you trip a lot when you’re walking?”), skateboarding, strength training and Hula hooping. There is even jogging around a lovely island. Despite my reservations, I started to play the game regularly and pushing my self to do better than the kids (we’re a competitive family). As a nerd girl, I can’t think of a better way to exercise than using a video game to trick me into working hard. That’s the love of the relationship.

Let me introduce you to the hate. See, you can play against other family members in this stupid game. What do my 10-year-old daughters love to do? Why the two-person run with mom, of course. Normally I jog at a slow-ish pace getting my heart rate up and trying not to fall over (okay fine, Wii Fit trainer, yes, I do trip a lot when I’m walking). My daughters, on the other hand, are young enough to think that people actually run for fun. And for speed. We start off with a nice, gentle run. But soon they feel restrained and dart ahead of me. Then they stop and wait for me to get close and dart ahead again. The entire run is spent playing catch up with the girls. Who don’t get breathless, either. I’ve found a good mantra to keep me running is, “I hate you, Wii Fit” which they think is a hoot-and-a-half.

Despite the hate of the stupid Wii Fit (wait, these games require me to use my muscles? That’s why I’ve been hurting each morning?), I refuse to let the anthropomorphic board on the screen win. One day, I hope to step on the board as the healthy leader I know I can be and have an “oh” that really means, “Oh… you’re so light and amazing. Nice work!”