Life as an Asker

I am sitting in a Cragun’s sweet suite and listening to 2 of my kids snore. My other kid is happily speeding through the latest book she picked up at school.

17 years ago, I was a new staff, working in a session on worldviews. I introduced myself as one who had no marketable skills and thus, was serving on staff at Bemidji State. There was a certain freshman from NDSU who heard this self-deprecation and was immediately critical.

12 years ago, I knelt on the floor of one of these same rooms, a tortured 26 year old, praying that God would keep me from a longing for a certain young, new staff worker. I was wrecked. It had been 18 months of wondering. I hated falling for a co-worker but couldn’t resist. He was on my same team and if he didn’t indicate any interest towards me I was seriously going to have to quit my job and jump into seminary … or something else just as drastic.

10 years ago, Brian and I spent the weekend here with a few hundred students, serving in the same small group. We were totally distracted. We had just started dating 3 weeks prior. I remember finishing up my final session that Sunday morning and Brian had my scarf in his hands, and he kept smelling it.

I let my students go assuming it was time for the closing worship session. My supervisor and conference director saw us and asked what was going on. I had the schedule wrong and let out almost an hour early…

Little did I know Brian was planning to propose the next day. We had a skiing trip planned in Bemidji and it was the first time we were going to have a long date (we had only gone on 2 dates so far).

Little did I know he had prepped a meal with his dad earlier in the weekend, ready to go in the back seat of his car. He had a ring. He had accomplices, I mean helpers, to have roses and the meal ready once we arrived back at my house after we skied.

Little did I know we would get engaged on that third date, married 4.5 months later and head to Russia 5 weeks after we got married.

Little did I know how much we would fight, argue and suffer through that first year of marriage. It was awful. We worked too much. We almost killed our chapter. Brian’s grandfather died. We were too used to doing life alone that we forgot we wanted to do life together.

Little did I know we would have 2 kids without planning either one. That Brian would be working here at Cragun’s when I would go into labor with kid #1. That he’d have to wake up our supervisor and her kids and race back to Bemidji only to find my labor had stopped. (It started right back up again and Calista was born at 10pm Feb 3).

Little did I know that right after we had Elam I started to think we should move to Duluth. That when we put our house on the market as a “test, looking for a sign” it would sell in less than a week!

Little did I know that we would plan, plan and plan for 2.5 years for our third kid. Little did I know that I would step back from my job, one that I did here in this place for over 10 years, and loved doing it, in order to be present when these little noses would snore.

Little did I know how much this guy would still drive me batty (just today we had a doozy of an argument while heading out of town to said conference) but I did have some idea that I wanted to be driven nuts only by him.

Brian: you are such a leader. You want to make every follow you only because you know you follow the Best Leader. You want to influence the world with the Good News and Truth. You want to be the best daddy and stepped into our room only for 5 minutes to hug and kiss your kids good night (and grab a piece of pizza and an apple).

You want to fix problems for everyone. Phones, computers, shelving units, furnaces, tree houses, our floors, my battery life in my phone…

I’m so glad you chose NDSU. That you chose to get involved with InterVarsity. That you gave up the big bucks and computer job security for staff life. That we have a crazy life with our kids right now.

I’m so glad you chose me.

Happy Engagement Anniversary!

This week has been one of pure, maniac ridiculousness.

My girlfriend offered to take all 3 kids (thanks Rebekah) one afternoon so I cleverly planned a hot Friday afternoon/early evening schedule for myself. I planned to pay bills, hit Sam’s Club and get my eyes checked.

I didn’t get Elam’s preschool bill paid for and was late heading to buy my $1.49 bunch of bananas, but I slid into my 4:40 appointment at 4:43.

Why shouldn’t there be a problem with my insurance? Why wouldn’t I have to fill out 100 feet of paperwork as if I were a new patient? Why wouldn’t my regular doc be out on maternity leave?

5:15 rolled around and I finally got in to the first eye tests with the woman who had given me a little trouble with the insurance…

To be fair, I had forgotten to get clarity from Brian on our new eye care plan. They needed the information right then and there, before we started the exam, since they’d be billing in the next 10 microminutes and couldn’t wait until Monday at 3pm when my all-knowing, “man of the insurance house” would be in that very office to clear up all of my ignorant SAHM moments.*

I tried to be kind and patient but really…insurance. Bane of my existence. If Brian ever gets hit by a semi on Highway 2 heading to Bemidji State, I will need a personal insurance agent like those State Farm people who pop up whenever people have accidents on TV. They always have such nice jackets.

Well, I tried to warm up to her but just couldn’t. Even I couldn’t think of anything funny to say. I was still reeling from losing precious, restful, sitting in a waiting room wait time on my iPad or with my Return of the King book.

Then the doctor came in. I should have known it was going to be a long appointment when he started talking about vitamins, genetics and heredity of disease within 30 seconds of entering the examining room.

We found we had a commonality: we had both adopted our sons (his from Korea a long time ago, before it was very socially acceptable). Somehow I told him it had been a long week and I was a little spacey.

He gave me a hard time when I paused between his “which is better, 1 or 2?” I really couldn’t tell sometimes!

He pulled up a card for me to read with both eyes at one point and I said, “mountain sides… isn’t that one word? And what’s with the lack of punctuation on this?”

“You are a scream. If you want to contact the author, this is from the book Heidi. Take it up with him.”

The 45 minute exam went something like this. Back and forth, some funny stories and I thought we had built some rapport. Then he walked me out to the reception area and the 2 assistants (the ones I had had some trouble with regarding insurance…). He eventually started talking about me as if I were not there. “She is having some trouble with her lenses, but I think she’s sensitive. Her prescription is actually too strong…” So I said, “You know I can hear you right?” “Yes but I want my assistant to know what happened back there.” Turning to said assistant, “She’s also a diva.”

OH.MY.GANDALF.

I have never in my entire 38 years of life been called a “diva” – at least not to my face.

I told him I’d need to have therapy now. My optometrist called me a “scream” in private but in public, I got “sensitive” and “diva.”

Ouch.

Not sure how to process that the optometrist managed to peg me today after peering into my eyes, but perhaps the “eyes are the windows to the soul” thing is true.

When things go poorly at home like they have this week, I get self-centered more than usual. Traffic annoys me as if I am the center of the universe. Stoplights serve me or curse me. Parking spots, the line at the car wash, paper cuts and catching the random webbing inside my jacket on the door knob while I race into the garage to loosen XS from his blasted car seat after I thought he was already loose. All these things make it feel as if the stars are seriously aligned against my team and me.

Exhale.

True confession: sometimes I think the world revolves around me, Brian’s constant travel schedule, our adoption and my aching knee.

And then when I’m at the eye doc, hoping to fix my squinting and get a soul-check, it made me need a blog.

What a way to spend a Friday night !

*SAHM: Stay At Home Mom

This week has been one of pure, maniac ridiculousness.

My girlfriend offered to take all 3 kids (thanks Rebekah) one afternoon so I cleverly planned a hot Friday afternoon/early evening schedule for myself. I planned to pay bills, hit Sam’s Club and get my eyes checked.

I didn’t get Elam’s preschool bill paid for and was late heading to buy my $1.49 bunch of bananas, but I slid into my 4:40 appointment at 4:43.

Why shouldn’t there be a problem with my insurance? Why wouldn’t I have to fill out 100 feet of paperwork as if I were a new patient? Why wouldn’t my regular doc be out on maternity leave?

5:15 rolled around and I finally got in to the first eye tests with the woman who had given me a little trouble with the insurance…

To be fair, I had forgotten to get clarity from Brian on our new eye care plan. They needed the information right then and there, before we started the exam, since they’d be billing in the next 10 microminutes and couldn’t wait until Monday at 3pm when my all-knowing, “man of the insurance house” would be in that very office to clear up all of my ignorant SAHM moments.*

I tried to be kind and patient but really…insurance. Bane of my existence. If Brian ever gets hit by a semi on Highway 2 heading to Bemidji State, I will need a personal insurance agent like those State Farm people who pop up whenever people have accidents on TV. They always have such nice jackets.

Well, I tried to warm up to her but just couldn’t. Even I couldn’t think of anything funny to say. I was still reeling from losing precious, restful, sitting in a waiting room wait time on my iPad or with my Return of the King book.

Then the doctor came in. I should have known it was going to be a long appointment when he started talking about vitamins, genetics and heredity of disease within 30 seconds of entering the examining room.

We found we had a commonality: we had both adopted our sons (his from Korea a long time ago, before it was very socially acceptable). Somehow I told him it had been a long week and I was a little spacey.

He gave me a hard time when I paused between his “which is better, 1 or 2?” I really couldn’t tell sometimes!

He pulled up a card for me to read with both eyes at one point and I said, “mountain sides… isn’t that one word? And what’s with the lack of punctuation on this?”

“You are a scream. If you want to contact the author, this is from the book Heidi. Take it up with him.”

The 45 minute exam went something like this. Back and forth, some funny stories and I thought we had built some rapport. Then he walked me out to the reception area and the 2 assistants (the ones I had had some trouble with regarding insurance…). He eventually started talking about me as if I were not there. “She is having some trouble with her lenses, but I think she’s sensitive. Her prescription is actually too strong…” So I said, “You know I can hear you right?” “Yes but I want my assistant to know what happened back there.” Turning to said assistant, “She’s also a diva.”

OH.MY.GANDALF.

I have never in my entire 38 years of life been called a “diva” – at least not to my face.

I told him I’d need to have therapy now. My optometrist called me a “scream” in private but in public, I got “sensitive” and “diva.”

Ouch.

Not sure how to process that the optometrist managed to peg me today after peering into my eyes, but perhaps the “eyes are the windows to the soul” thing is true.

When things go poorly at home like they have this week, I get self-centered more than usual. Traffic annoys me as if I am the center of the universe. Stoplights serve me or curse me. Parking spots, the line at the car wash, paper cuts and catching the random webbing inside my jacket on the door knob while I race into the garage to loosen XS from his blasted car seat after I thought he was already loose. All these things make it feel as if the stars are seriously aligned against my team and me.

Exhale.

True confession: sometimes I think the world revolves around me, Brian’s constant travel schedule, our adoption and my aching knee.

And then when I’m at the eye doc, hoping to fix my squinting and get a soul-check, it made me need a blog.

What a way to spend a Friday night !

*SAHM: Stay At Home Mom