Lundi Links: Funny

Here are a few things on the 'net that consistently make me laugh.

http://catalogliving.net has a perfect eye for the absurd. The creator is the lady from this and several other funny commercials: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjHoxSKqE0M&feature=related.

http://slushpilehell.tumblr.com is a real agent's mental responses to real queries.

http://tinyartdirector.blogspot.com is a chronicle of a young girl's responses to her professional-artist dad's drawings. It is rarely updated, but maybe it is new to you.

http://www.unnecessaryquotes.com shows pictures of signs all over the place that misuse quotation marks, and a brief response about what they really mean.

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com is just a really good, funny blog.

On http://www.overheardinnewyork.com, people send in things they really overheard. From there, using the colored rectangles, you can find Overheard at the Beach, Overheard at the Office, Overheard Everywhere, and Celebrity Wit.

Enjoy! Next Monday will bring links in a new category.

The True Meaning of Easter

...is sweets plus arts and crafts. Or so it would seem if one observed my behavior today, the day before the day.

Here is one of the latest additions to our family here at the Jenkins house.

Not all of his brothers and sisters were ready to greet the world.

Another new resident of my parents' house.

The arts-and-crafts portion features eggs made from a tie-dye egg kit. Among some sweet rocks.

And perhaps my favorite part of the day, thanks to Real Simple magazine. Check it: gumdrops, smashed thin with a spatch, cut in half and rolled into roses or cut into leaves. Tip: use lots of sugar as you'd use flour in kneading bread, because when you roll them out, you expose a much stickier side of the 'drop.

In short, I feel very accomplished today! How fun.

I'm glad I decided to blog for Lent, and exceedingly glad it's about over. While many of the posts have not been as theological and Lent-y as I'd envisioned, it's been a helpful and thought-provoking exercise. Thank you so much, everyone, for reading and supporting this and so many other projects. I'll be posting regularly, just not holding myself to doing it every day. Expect lots of links, which I've been looking forward to sharing after Lent.

Have a great Easter tomorrow, everyone. What a joyful occasion! Celebrate renewal, redemption, love, and faith.

Outliers

I'm listening to Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers in the car. It's about how extremely successful people get that way. The gist is that nurture is just as important as nature, if not more so. He says it's all about opportunity. Part of that means being born at the right time and place, much of it has to do with cultural legacies and social systems, and some of it is under our (or our parents') control. That's a pretty small amount, but because it's all we can do anything about, it's worth a lot of attention.

As a non-parent, I'm thinking of how I can put this knowledge into action, short of lobbying for different education practices or something. While I can't directly create opportunities for children to get practice and mentorship in particular fields, I can create opportunities for people to feel welcome, safe, and loved, and to have fun, and to share what they have to share. Still not sure what form this takes in concrete, visible terms, but it will be with me for quite a while.

There's a lot more to Outliers than that. Quite a good read, if a little redundant. I recommend it for anyone, especially parents and educators.

The Thing That Makes Me Have to Take Deep Breaths

This morning, I left around 8:30 for my 10:00 appointment for work. Then, I swung by the office of the guy I'd interviewed yesterday because I forgot to take his picture. By 12:30, I was back home and ready for a long afternoon and evening of good work.

I checked my email and saw, in a subject line, that the governor was going to be in Jacksonville. I prayed that it would be today so I'd already missed it. It was today, but at 5 p.m., which meant I could make it in plenty of time. Not a good thing because I had lots of work to fit into the rest of the day.

I cursed the sky and made the hour-long drive, which I'm used to, but not having to go there and back twice in one day. That's what really got me.

The reason for this post's title is the anxiety these situations cause me. This unpredictability is my least favorite part of my job. Most of my days have a pretty long and detailed to-do list, and when my plans are thwarted, I get very grumpy.

Since I only have a few more weeks at work here, this should be only an annoyance. But it's not the current trouble that gets me worked up, it's the future implications. Ministry, as I imagine it, is nothing but days like this. If I work in a church, or in a nonprofit agency, I will very frequently sit down in my office with a full docket of important and rewarding work for the day, only to check my email or voicemail or receive a call that...fill in the blank. Someone has died. Someone's in the hospital. A child is missing. Dramatic things like this may not happen super-often, but surely my flock will mix things up with smaller issues, like needing a confidante, not showing up for a volunteer job so I have to handle it, inviting me to something at the last minute, or some other harebrained scheme.

It's hard for me to think of this, mostly because of how badly I handle it at present. After a minute or two of overexcitement, I remember that church life will be considerably less disruptive for me. For one thing, a big one, these last-minute calls won't involve an hour-plus drive each time. I'll live in the same town as my employer. Going to something at 5 won't mean I'm sitting down to work at 9. Also, I will be helping people I care about, not inwardly rolling my eyes about an event that has no importance to me. And I knew when I took this job that it wasn't a perfect fit. If I go into my next job or career with more peace about it, that will create a much better and more harmonious, fulfilling situation.

So I lean heavily on these ideas on days like this. I'm not looking at a future of this level of frustration. There will be plenty of frustration, I know, but not much of this breed. A comforting thought.

Being a Good Grown-up

I set my alarm for 7:30 this morning even though I had nowhere to be until 1:30. That's right, I have become an actual adult. I did it so I could run and shower without having breakfast at lunchtime. And you know what? It worked out great. I sat down to work at about 9:45 and had finished an article a little after ten. I wrote two more short pieces this morning before sitting down to lunch at a reasonable, grown-up lunchtime. Then I did the webcast, had a good talk with Dad, and did an interview all before the regular workday was over.

This is slightly unlike me. Because I often work in the evenings and am not much of a schedule person, I have weeks where things are pretty willy-nilly, and Friday can be an ugly affair around here because that's the deadline for the articles I should have been writing all week. But days like this give me faith in structure, or at least in getting up early. I'm thinking a lot about how I use my time because things will change drastically come July 6 when summer school starts. I'm trying to start good habits while simultaneously getting my ya-yas out, enjoying the relative lack of structure while I can. Right now, it's mostly just a topic of thought, but based on the success of today, I'm thinking I'll soon start changing my behavior. I've gone through periods where I got up early and adhered to a schedule, and one of those periods is coming up.

I say this after an evening of watching cartoons and reading graphic novels that were apparently attended for adolescents. Adulthood is highly relative.

Missing Out

So I signed on with Union Presbyterian Seminary in Richmond today, unofficially, by confirming that I am interested in a program called Communities of Learning. I will read a book with other incoming students and take part in online discussions over the summer, shepherded by a faculty member or alum. Cool. There's also a weekend get-together before school starts so we can all meet face to face outside the realm of regular school-time.

But the get-together is the same weekend that my friend Laura is getting married. In Houston. Since I haven't quite mastered being in two places at once, I have to miss the get-together. The same thing happened with my cousin's wedding and our Davidson five-year reunion. This vexes me. The good news is that neither of these is a dilemma, exactly; I'm not thinking in circles about which I should do, because the priority in both cases is pretty clear cut. The other good news is that a surplus of activities is better than boredom. But that doesn't make it fun to miss something fun.

I have a lot of trouble with the concept that fun can happen without me. I'm looking forward to both of these weddings in a big way, though, and I'm certain that when I'm there, the last thing on my mind will be the reunion or the get-together. I'll be there to celebrate, and celebrate I will. I am very blessed to know all of the marrieds-to-be and to share in their happiness on the big day.

Rollin' It Out

My roommate has a foam roller for her muscles, which I occasionally use with permission. It's hard to get used to but does tenderize stiff and sore muscles. It's just a plain cylinder, and you roll around on top of it.

The trick is to focus on the areas that it hurts to roll. It's counterintuitive to continue causing oneself pain, but pain is actually really beneficial and important physically. Stretching, yoga, and I'm sure plenty of other things, when done right, involve a certain amount of pain. When a stretch hurts, I've learned to stay there and take a few breaths. If I hurry away from it, the pain will just get worse and be there with a vengeance next time.

I think this has to do something with the hurtful aspects of faith and life that I've mentioned in other posts. Avoiding pain pretty much gets you nowhere.

Palm Sunday

There was a lot of bloody, sad talk at church this morning, as well there should be in the lead-up to Easter. In Sunday School, we had to leaven it with jokes. In the service, not so much. It's hard to think about what happened on the cross, especially for people who strive to live in joy and those who want to make Christianity appealing to all. When I think of all the other ways it could have gone, I can feel a scowl forming on my face. If God can do anything, why did he have to make redemption so painful?

I'm not making any attempt to answer that question, but I at least understand that he did choose that, and because he did, we can't ignore the pain and violence of "Good" Friday. Facing it comes in different forms for everyone, and another thing I'm not doing here is prescribing a method of contemplating the cross. You'll find yours when it's time.

There's a Taize song that goes "Crucem tuam adoramus, Domine. Resurrectionem tuam laudamus, Domine." It means something like, "We adore your cross, Lord. We praise your resurrection, Lord." The song is in a minor key and has some hauntingly beautiful harmonies. It's one of my favorites from Taize, actually. Considering the lyrics reminds me that we don't just adore Christ's teachings or pacifism or care for the lowly. We don't just adore him for creating the Church and giving us Holy Communion or for any other reason. We adore His cross and His resurrection, first and foremost, and we can't praise one without the other. Focus only on the cross, and you're a Friday person who sees a lackluster and doomed world. Focus only on the resurrection, and you might become blind to all the perils and evils of the world. But if you can hold the two complementary truths in your mind and heart, you have a balanced and (to the extent that I am qualified to declare this) accurate idea of what the Christian faith is about. Without Christ's death, the resurrection is not a resurrection at all. Without the resurrection, Christ would be just another dead guy. As unpleasant as it usually is, we have to honor the brutality of the cross at the same time as we rejoice in its life-giving power.

Home Again, Home Again

I got back this evening from a great time in Austin. Everyone there was extremely fun and nice. If I had to name a favorite part, it would be the Shabbat service we went to because one of the APTS students came in as a Unitarian but has now become part of a Jewish congregation. The rabbi was like a more down-to-earth version of Ben Stiller's character in Keeping the Faith. He was also an extremely good cantor. Hauntingly so.

Austin is basically equal to Richmond in the level of fun and the way I feel when there. Since Richmond has more logistical elements going for it, it's still ahead. I'm not turning in the papers for a few days because it took a while for things to sink in and clarify after the last trip, but I feel pretty confident about the decision.

This whole journey of exploring seminaries has been amazing for many, many reasons. One that just hit me today is that when I go to these schools and meet students, I'm meeting the future leaders of the church, my future colleagues, the people I will run into at conferences and collaborate with and pray for as we continue to learn and teach and lead. What a great privilege, even so early in the process.

The Little Things

Sometimes, I really don't like my job. You may have picked up on this from the blog, and you almost certainly have if you spend time with me in person (or on the phone like my patient and understanding mother). For instance, today, I left home at 7:45 a.m. to make it to a primary school music program at 9. This was not something I was asked directly to do by my supervisor, but the news is so slow that I need to do such things in order to have items in the paper each week (I accidentally typed, "I need to do suck things...." Like many typos, pretty apt). I realize it could be monumentally worse. I have a job, it pays a living wage, and it's not physical labor, to start with. Also, it is in the field I'm trained for. There are many advantages. Trying to make a news story out of five songs sung by first-graders is not one of them. So I get pretty crabby about it on occasion. But then something like this happens. I get to look at the old papers every few weeks to write the "This Week in History" column, which is one of the perks. Not so much writing it as spending time with bound copies of papers from 1981, 1991, and 2001, seeing pictures of the police chiefs and mayors when they were younger, studying the ads. Last time I did this, I got an extra special treat. Here it is. Now doesn't everything feel just a little bit better? It's amazing what a tiny thing can do for one's mood. Lent mode engage! Think of how you can be that tiny thing for someone. A smile, a compliment, picking up a dropped item, can work wonders, especially from a stranger. What a beautiful opportunity. Or you could cut your hair like this guy and seriously be a public servant.

I'm headed to Austin in a few hours until Saturday. After that, I will probably be able to make a quick decision about where I'm going. Hint: probably Union in Richmond, unless something unexpected happens in Austin. I've realized that as independent and world-traveling as I am and want to be, I don't want to have to take a plane or drive for days to see my family or many of my friends. Or eat at Flaming Amy's. Many other factors are also making Richmond edge ahead. Anyway, expect some sort of official announcement soonish. I may even break out the big fonts if I can figure out how.

Column Redux

I wrote this week's column today. When I first started at the paper, I wanted my column to be a movie review column, but I couldn't get any local theaters to give me free or discounted tickets as a member of the press. So I occasionally wrote about whatever I was reading, but after a couple months it became just a place that I muse, much like this blog but a bit less personal and on a weekly basis.

Today, I wrote about exercising and how it's possibly the only time I'm truly living in the moment in a way that I can choose and control. I think I live in the moment at various times, but I don't know it's going to happen because it's based on a conversation or the indefinable quality of a really great party or just the feeling of opening the door on a surprisingly warm or chilly morning. But when I exercise, I am focused on the present in a predictable way. That's part of the appeal. Because my mind is unoccupied when I run or bike or swim, it is not infrequent that I spend part of that time fretting or planning the future or reliving the past, but most of that hour or so is spent attentive and attuned.

I say hello to babies in strollers and dogs and their owners. I sometimes sing very quietly to myself to make sure I'm really out of breath. When I need to get something out of my mind, I focus on each of my five senses one at a time: what do I see? What do I hear? and so on. When I'm in my room, in the car, at work, or with friends, I usually have a lot to pay attention to and a lot to think about. That's no less the case when I'm on the Loop or the bike, but the repetitive motion and the lack of mental stimuli bring my mind to a very different place. For once, when I see people, I'm not thinking of how they perceive me or where they've been or where they're going. I'm just taking everything in at face value and moving on to whatever captures my attention next.

Not everything I take in is pleasant. There's a Band-Aid stuck to the sidewalk that's been there for months, lots of dog poop, car alarms, and the garbage truck. But I'm thankful for all of it because I'm thankful to be outside, to be healthy enough to run or bike, and thankful for the experience of every moment, especially the ones I really and truly notice.

Choices, Plus McCullers

I'm going to Austin on Thursday night to visit the seminary there and coming back Saturday. I am very happy about this. Very.

Until I check a Seagrove blog and am reminded that this weekend is the Celebration of Spring in Seagrove, when many of the potteries have kiln openings on the same day, which I might be at if I were in North Carolina instead of Texas. I would have been like, "Eh, you can't win 'em all," until the blogger said his wife would be making chocolate bread and leek and potato soup for his kiln opening. I have had this chocolate bread. Now my happiness about Austin is tinged with a distinct undertone of "Dang it!"

It's hard to accept that I can't do every fun thing ever. Quelle travestie! At least this one is kind of a no-brainer. Following God's call to seminary and the related trips, paperwork, and activities take precedence, chocolate bread or no chocolate bread.

I just finished listening to The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Let me tell you something. This book is a masterpiece. I do not use that term lightly. Well, I do that sometimes, once in reference to 8 Mile, but this time I am serious. I haven't been so touched by a novel in a long time. It's about a deaf and mute man named John Singer in a small Southern town and the people who are drawn to him--a girl who's just entering adolescence, a restaurant owner whose wife dies in the course of the book, a new guy in town with political dreams, and the only black doctor around. They all talk to him as they talk to no one else. He understands because he reads lips but only rarely answers. The other people in town like and respect him, but these four hold him particularly close. Only once do they all meet in his room, and then only by accident.

I like the book for many reasons--the writing style, the very real characters, the way it is full of dramatic events but lacks drama--but one of the main reasons is Singer's status as a God figure. I don't know to what extent McCullers intended this, but the way the people talk to Singer is so much like prayer. It's private, unlike talking with others, intensely personal, and not usually done in hopes of a response. The black people talk of him as one of the few white people who can be trusted, and white folks also see him as respectable and trustworthy. He buys a radio so his guests can listen to it--something that's completely useless to him as a deaf man but that he knows will make them happy. Maybe someday I will read the book and keep track of the parallels, because these are only a few, and I missed a lot of the book on CD while paying attention to the road or just singing to myself or thinking of something else. I love it when literature has something to do with faith, the more subtle the better. I'm thinking it's not a book for everyone, but if you like to read literary novels, and especially if you like Southern Gothic style (like Eudora Welty, Flannery O'Connor, and Harper Lee), then you should definitely give The Heart is a Lonely Hunter a try.

Pottery Sermon

Today was United Methodist Women Sunday, meaning the UMW was in charge of all aspects of the traditional services at church. Instead of having one of our pastors or a UMW members do a sermon, they had a special guest who made a large vase before our eyes. As she potted, she talked about the parallels in our spiritual lives: the need for sharpness at some times and gentleness at others, the concept of centering and balance, and all the different types of vessels that are necessary and serve different but equally valuable purposes. It was a very, very cool thing, and it put me in a distinctly Seagrove mood.

Last night, we had a ladies' night fondue party, which was pretty much the best thing ever. And tonight we are having a regular ol' youth group for the first time in at least three weeks. This return to routine feels very good. I'm loving The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter on CD, Dad is home from the hospital and sounds great, and I booked my ticket to Austin to see the seminary there. After some roughness, things are looking up at last.

I spent over two hours yesterday at Panera reading, writing a long-postponed letter, and flirting with all the cute babies and toddlers that are there on Saturdays. Later, at the fondue party, we talked about the necessity of time alone. One couple takes turns leaving for a weekend once a month. Another woman said she always loves being alone but often dreads it before it happens. Having had such a great time at Panera, not exactly alone but not performing for anyone or trying to make an impression, I knew precisely the feeling and the importance of taking time for oneself. Praise God for the opportunities we have to do so.

Sowin' 'n' Reapin'

This week, I feel like I've sown all I have and reaped nothing but exhaustion, tension of every kind, harsh words from almost everyone, and five nosebleeds in four days. Three of those happened while I was either bending over or blowing my nose, so I'm not as worried as I would be if they were all spontaneous.

Anyway, it's been hard. The worst week, and a couple of the worst days, I've had in a long, long time. I'm lucky I haven't had to weather much worse, but reminding myself of that only makes it marginally easier.

God tells us that we will sometimes sow where others will reap, see all our hard work go to someone else. But he also says that sometimes it's the opposite. Sometimes, we will live in houses we did not build. We will eat olives from trees we did not plant. While we don't always reap exactly what we sow, and certainly not in the timetable we planned for, it does work out in the end. Hard work does pay off. Sometimes we get a prize for nothing. While I've never taken much consolation from statements about the future, it does mean something. Not that I'm going to get up from this kicking my heels, but at least I might go to bed without crying.

Give and Take

Unfortunately, spending time and energy on something means you won't have as much for something else. This means we have to make choices. If I read or go for a run in the morning instead of getting right to work, I will pay for it in the afternoon by being rushed and probably a little angry. If I work first in the morning, I often end up working all day anyway and don't have time for some other good thing. This usually makes me feel defeated, like I can't win or get it right.

The trick, not that I've mastered it or even begun to practice, is to give loving attention to the task at hand no matter what it is. "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men," says Colossians 3:23. Many translations say to do it "heartily." I like this idea. It sort of says, not that work makes up for time with God or can take the place of it, but that you can turn anything into a God-glorifying activity. Almost anything. This is what I would like to work on, and lately really need to.

Lenten Devotion

There's a problem with this scheme that I didn't foresee. I pledged to blog every day, which I have for the most part. But it turns out I don't have the urge to blog every day. While I have plenty to share, recountings and observations that are fine in ordinary time seem a little limp when the blog is supposed to be all spiritual and Lent-y. I've just put off writing this post in no less than four ways.

But this is not a loss. It's a lesson. Devotion, as I've said in different words before, means you do something not because you always want to. You do it because you promised to do it, because it shapes you, because it is an expression of something important. Everything I've heard about marriage says you can't expect to feel those sparks of love and lust all the time, but you can't get a divorce every time you feel annoyed with your spouse. Likewise, I come to this blog because it's a place for my reflections on Lent, not because I woke up this morning thinking, "Ooh, let's blog!" So here I am, in spite of my own wishes, wrapping up quickly so I can find those online jigsaw puzzles, but here and happy to be writing.

Quel Jour

The language of the title is in honor of Peter Mayle's Encore Provence, which, read by an Englishman on a CD played in my car, helped keep this day from being a completely wretched loss.

Let's see.

-My boss has zero communication skills, at least via email. This can not be a problem for weeks or months at a time, but now we have started a new project--webcasts!--which requires much more communication than usual. The webcasts are fun, but I literally never know whether I am doing the right thing when I'm writing the scripts and doing the related work.
-I was going to renew and return some library items but ran too late in the morning.
-I drove an hour to my first assignment, an hour to do the webcast, and an hour back to the same place where the first one was! Then an hour home. Again, thank you, Peter Mayle, and the lovely English audiobook reader.
-I had a splitting headache today, which I never have, and was very tired after my delicious weekend and an early jog. I really needed caffeine and was looking forward to checking out a new-to-me coffee shop. Closed on Mondays.
-I went to McDonald's to get coffee instead, but Boss called while I was in the parking lot, so I had to go to the library instead and write the script for tomorrow's webcast.
-You know, the public library, where I loiter with my computer because I don't have an office, and where a baby was crying.
-I had been going to read my Bible while drinking the coffee, and I never got to. ("Had been going to"? Is this OK?)
-When I called the number I found online for the library (the other library, the one where I live, which is SO FAR AWAY from where I work), it had been disconnected or something. Double bad: I now have a fine, and I cannot stand misinformation of that sort on the internet or elsewhere.
-When I finally got to McD's and took my ibuprofen with a sip of iced coffee, the straw was so big that I may have lost a pill in the drink. I then drank it really fast so as to finish before the pill dissolved and made that awful taste. I may have taken the pill just fine, but the possibility was pretty upsetting.
-Mom texted me that Dad was going into the hospital for a skin infection. I got it just before the evening meeting I covered, so I couldn't call for details, and I was distracted for much of the meeting by the possibilities. (The text (and the fact that it was a text and not a call) made it clear that I didn't need to come home or anything, it was for my information. I don't want you to think I got that news and callously went ahead to the meeting.)

But I'm not saying this just to complain. Partly to complain, yes, but also to tell you this: (Lent mode engage!)

I had a lot of plans for today, and most of them did not happen. This is the case on many days, but today it was pretty piled on. Missing my Bible-reading time was especially bad because I needed it more than usual.

On the retreat this weekend, after that long night of Apples to Apples, I knelt by my bed for a few minutes and whispered my prayers. I found that this worked well because the kneeling and whispering kept me focused. If I'm forming the words with my lips, I'm much less likely to find myself on a whole new topic than when I just pray in my head. I'm not a great pray-er, partly because I'm like, "If God knows everything, why do I need to tell Him stuff?" partly because it doesn't feel like an accomplishment, and probably for several other reasons. So it's always nice to find something that works, and I decided to try the out-loud/whisper thing regularly.

In the car tonight, on the way home from the meeting, I called Mom and had to leave a message. Anxious and antsy, I turned off Mr. Mayle's book and started to pray out loud. I felt better almost immediately.

Yes, it would have been great to do my Bible reading, but what a blessing to know that we can reach God, and He can reach us, even when our plans for doing so are foiled. It's good to have those plans, in fact it's crucial to arrange time and mental space for Him, but we also have to be open to God in other ways and times and places. If we insist that music or reading or a certain type of prayer or some other specific thing is the only way we communicate with God, we shut off a whole wing of our life with Him. So, listen for Him all the time, and try speaking to Him in new ways.

Mom called as I was praying. She and Dad had been going to urgent care since Friday morning, and he's been taking different forms of antibiotics. When the doctor there said today that IV antibiotics were next, they both said, "Yes, yes, we want that." They are ready to kick this thing. So, apparently, it's a good thing that he's in the hospital? Better, she said, than being at home and wondering whether he's improving. They both sounded pretty upbeat. Also, her iPad arrived today (I didn't even know they'd ordered it), and we talked about my coming there at Easter and how I'm going to make Rice Krispie treats and put them in greased plastic eggs and make a hollow in the middle and put candy in the hollow and take them out of the plastic eggs and put the halves together and it's going to be the best Easter snack ever. (I was about to put "best Easter thing ever." But that would be the original event. Good save, Jenkins.) So, I'm feeling a lot better than I did two hours ago. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Holy Exhaustion

I spent the weekend at Camp Caswell with the youth from my church. We had a great time worshiping, learning about our spiritual gifts, and exploring the forts that were built for the Civil War but never used. We went last year but spent our free time in only one fort, not knowing or not caring that there were at least four or five. The girls took lots of great pictures of each other there, and it's very fun to think about what each area might have been used for and what might have happened there.

Some of us ended up pretty much bushwacking our way across the top of one of the forts. There was a trail, but it wasn't used often or maintained, so the walk involved quite a bit of moving aside branches, surprise thorns, fear of poison ivy, and variations in steepness. It was inspiring to see how the kids helped each other along, offering strong hands to higher ground, words of encouragement, head counts, and leadership such that I was there only as a token adult. What a great feeling, and what a great group we have.

That night as we sat around the table playing Apples to Apples (which is very different with youth because they seem to take things more literally than my adult friends have in that game. For example, more than one person dismissed a response, such as Michael Jackson for "boisterous" or Mark Twain for "timeless," because the person was dead. I've never heard that from an adult in that game!), more faces than not were a few shades pinker than they had been that morning. The sun and wind had joined forces to create the effect. Several people's arms had scratches from errant branches, and those who didn't bear physical marks of the journey were visibly tired.

All but one of my arm scratches have gone away, but my eyes have that puffy, sandy feeling that's so familiar, and the balls of my feet are happy to be at rest. I'm very blessed to be able to associate this feeling almost exclusively with good things: ski trips, plane rides, summer camp, and the myriad forms of excitement that almost hinge on exhaustion. What a great gift God gave us in the days and weekends and weeks that jolt us out of the ordinary, take us to a new place, and deprive us of rest in order to give us games, conversations, laughter, exploration, long walks on top of forts, and the sense that we are not missing a thing.