Since I arrived at the University of Dubuque nearly a year and a half ago (wow, a year and a half already?), I have been working hard to convince students that I'm a little older and wiser than I really am. There's just something about still being considered in the same generation as my students that bothers me slightly. I'm not sure if it's the perception of authority I like to think I've got when viewed as older and wiser or or if I feel like they just won't take me seriously if I'm not old enough to be an "adult." I just don't know.
But with the rapid approach of my one and only golden birthday (26 on the 26th), I realized yesterday, that in a few short years, I'll most likely be doing anything in my power to convince students that I'm actually younger than I am. You know...probably around the time I hit that big milestone...30. And what is up with that exactly? How can 26 seem so young, inexperienced, green, and 30 seem so old, mature, and wise?
For whatever it is, I guess I'm sticking with it. I've been working hard not to share that it's my golden birthday to students this week, letting them think I'm older and wiser than I am...and I will probably continue to do this for the next three years. And perhaps, after four years or so, I'll have to reevaluate and redefine what constitutes as old, wise, mature, and experienced...but for now, I'll stick to foolin'.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Oh, Yes. I Should Have.
Part of me says, No, you shouldn't have done that. You spent a whole night away from work. You still need to sort through that pile of paperwork. What about that quiz you promised your students tomorrow? But you know what? Yes, I should have. I should have taken the one night a week I get off at a normal time and used it for myself. And do you know what? It was exactly what I needed.
I spent tonight in the kitchen instead of at work. I grabbed that half bushel of apples that I had sitting on the counter and started cutting, boiling, mashing, and stirring. Seven little containers later, my heart was content that I had made enough applesauce for a few days. But tonight turned out to be about way more than apples. Tonight was about magic - the magic that my kitchen is capable of in my life.
Kitchens have always been central to life, as long as I can remember. It's where Grandma Konken and Aunt Myra and Mom prepared Sunday lunch and washed Sunday lunch dishes. It's where recipes were created and handed down. It's where glorious smells emanate conjuring memories from earliest recollection. It's where every party or gathering I can ever remember always ended up congregating. And it's where I find my nerves back at the end of a long day or week.
Tonight reminded me of all of that, and in made me smile - not just the I'm-smiling-on-the-inside type of smile, no - an actual contented grin. My kitchen is a disaster, with every square inch of everything covered in sticky apple goo, but I made applesauce, by myself, for the first time, just as my Grandma made so much of it for us grandkids for as long as I can remember.
Tonight also brought to mind images of the future - my daughters (or sons) and I gathered around the stew kettle smelling the rich smell of cooking apples, passing on the very recipes that my Mom and Grandma passed on to me...and not just applesauce. Pies, desserts, casseroles, cinnamon rolls, dinner feasts, Thanksgiving turkeys...
So, do I feel bad that I took off early from work, blew off a few responsibilities that I should have taken care of? For this experience? Certainly not. Because now my heart is full again, my energy is up again, and I'm ready to face whatever tomorrow throws at me.
Who knew a kitchen could do all of that?
I spent tonight in the kitchen instead of at work. I grabbed that half bushel of apples that I had sitting on the counter and started cutting, boiling, mashing, and stirring. Seven little containers later, my heart was content that I had made enough applesauce for a few days. But tonight turned out to be about way more than apples. Tonight was about magic - the magic that my kitchen is capable of in my life.
Kitchens have always been central to life, as long as I can remember. It's where Grandma Konken and Aunt Myra and Mom prepared Sunday lunch and washed Sunday lunch dishes. It's where recipes were created and handed down. It's where glorious smells emanate conjuring memories from earliest recollection. It's where every party or gathering I can ever remember always ended up congregating. And it's where I find my nerves back at the end of a long day or week.
Tonight reminded me of all of that, and in made me smile - not just the I'm-smiling-on-the-inside type of smile, no - an actual contented grin. My kitchen is a disaster, with every square inch of everything covered in sticky apple goo, but I made applesauce, by myself, for the first time, just as my Grandma made so much of it for us grandkids for as long as I can remember.
Tonight also brought to mind images of the future - my daughters (or sons) and I gathered around the stew kettle smelling the rich smell of cooking apples, passing on the very recipes that my Mom and Grandma passed on to me...and not just applesauce. Pies, desserts, casseroles, cinnamon rolls, dinner feasts, Thanksgiving turkeys...
So, do I feel bad that I took off early from work, blew off a few responsibilities that I should have taken care of? For this experience? Certainly not. Because now my heart is full again, my energy is up again, and I'm ready to face whatever tomorrow throws at me.
Who knew a kitchen could do all of that?
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Oh, October
It's months like October that really wear me out. Now, if you've read back through any of my fairly recent posts such as No Life...Well, Not Exactly or A Little Braggin', you know full well that I love to work, and I love my job. I love that it is exactly what I've been created to do with my life right now, but, quite honestly, there are limits to what a person can do. And October pushes me to my very limits.
I really struggle with life balance (clearly), but I struggle with this because it is a real internal battle for me. My head and heart wrestle with wanting to work because I've been entrusted with the work and it is good to do or taking a break because rest is a normal and required thing for human beings but knowing that in that rest the work will suffer or remain undone. And frankly, I feel sort of bad either way. I feel bad if I work too much because I know I'm wearing myself out and making myself less useful in the future, but I feel just as bad if I don't work as hard as I can and programs suffer and fall through the cracks.
I put a lot of pressure on myself to make sure that things are as good as I can possibly make them especially with the knowledge that some parts of campus culture are in rough shape right now. I know that if someone is going to fight for the lives and hearts of the students on this campus, it needs to be me. If I'm not, how can I convince anyone else to fight with me? How can I rally the forces if I'm lying on the couch?
But a part of me keeps thinking ahead. What will my life look like in a few years at this pace? Will I still be single or will I have found my love? Will I still work fourteen hour days, six day weeks or will there be help? Will I want something, some desire outside of this place or will my heart still lie squarely with the purpose I've been given today? I don't know. I don't know about any of it. But I do know that a normal family life someday will not be possible with the status quo.
It is at this point of the post that I have to inhale and exhale a deep sigh with the realization that I have not and probably will not resolve this internal battle tonight.
Despite all of this mind and heart wrestling that I find myself constantly in the midst of, I somehow still have a just a little peace. My peace lies in the fact that God is in control, whatever the situation may be, no matter how tired I get, how high the work piles. Does it make the month of October any easier? No. Frankly, I'm still pooped. But it makes it tolerable enough to fight through to keep on doing what I'm meant to do.
I really struggle with life balance (clearly), but I struggle with this because it is a real internal battle for me. My head and heart wrestle with wanting to work because I've been entrusted with the work and it is good to do or taking a break because rest is a normal and required thing for human beings but knowing that in that rest the work will suffer or remain undone. And frankly, I feel sort of bad either way. I feel bad if I work too much because I know I'm wearing myself out and making myself less useful in the future, but I feel just as bad if I don't work as hard as I can and programs suffer and fall through the cracks.
I put a lot of pressure on myself to make sure that things are as good as I can possibly make them especially with the knowledge that some parts of campus culture are in rough shape right now. I know that if someone is going to fight for the lives and hearts of the students on this campus, it needs to be me. If I'm not, how can I convince anyone else to fight with me? How can I rally the forces if I'm lying on the couch?
But a part of me keeps thinking ahead. What will my life look like in a few years at this pace? Will I still be single or will I have found my love? Will I still work fourteen hour days, six day weeks or will there be help? Will I want something, some desire outside of this place or will my heart still lie squarely with the purpose I've been given today? I don't know. I don't know about any of it. But I do know that a normal family life someday will not be possible with the status quo.
It is at this point of the post that I have to inhale and exhale a deep sigh with the realization that I have not and probably will not resolve this internal battle tonight.
Despite all of this mind and heart wrestling that I find myself constantly in the midst of, I somehow still have a just a little peace. My peace lies in the fact that God is in control, whatever the situation may be, no matter how tired I get, how high the work piles. Does it make the month of October any easier? No. Frankly, I'm still pooped. But it makes it tolerable enough to fight through to keep on doing what I'm meant to do.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Do Anything
How many times can a heart get broken? How many times can it be picked up off the floor and sewn back together with stitches of hope? I sometimes wonder how many times I have left, as if there is some sort of countdown that I'm nearing the end of, but I am thankful that I was created with a heart after God's own heart - a strong heart that can heal again and again.
My job has become pretty much the definition of my life at this point. People are defined by all sorts of roles - mother, child, wife, student... Right now, I am defined by what I do, which is work to change lives in a setting that fosters change, growth, and the building up of young adults. And I will say, as I get started here, that I love the opportunity that I've been given. I love it. I have never looked at my role with disdain or disgrace. I am honored and joyful and humbled to be able to serve in the role I've been given. But it is an overwhelming responsibility most days. It's a responsibility that just seems too big to handle.
As silly as it seems, Greek life at UD has burdened me and broken my heart more than once this year. For most, it would seem a little silly because, whether a part of Greek culture or not in one's life, everyone has some sort of mental picture of what it all entails - parties, doing silly things, fee structures, uniformed colors and clothing... And sure, I would agree that it is most of those things. But it has the potential to be so much more. So much more.
Greek life, as I've come to know it over the past year and a half, is about lifelong relationships. It's about being a part of something that is bigger than yourself. It's about serving the community and the campus that you are a member of. It is about stretching personal boundaries, and growing, and changing, and learning, and leading. Or at least that's what it's set up to be.
I am constantly surprised by how little students are willing to acknowledge these facts, but more importantly, take advantage of them. Here is a system placed before you, free for the taking, that is asking you only to do great things with your life...not alone, but with others, in a unity that is rare to be found anywhere else. It is a system set up to give students power and authority to accomplish dreams and ambitions, to positively affect those around them, to build relationships, and to have fun while doing it all. But when students look at this feast that is set before them, for most, all they see is the hard work, effort, time, and commitment that is being asked of them, and instead of grasping it and enjoying it to the fullest, they are looking past it or around it to see if there's something a little less daunting. It's like being offered a giant platter of lobster but choosing to just drink the dipping butter in the cup beside it. The butter's a lot less work to take in even if it is much less rewarding or satisfying.
But possibly the most painful crack in my heart stems from the flat out rejection of a very clear offer that I have placed on the table before these students time and time again. The offer? DO ANYTHING. That's right. DO ANYTHING. You have the power, the authority, and the very opportunity to do whatever you want. Anarchy, you say? Certainly this is not what I, the avid planner and organizer of a thousand details, intend. I simply mean that if you want something, you need to be willing to fight for it, be committed to the cause, to work toward it, and to accomplish it. Push the limits of what you think you can do. Test the waters and the rules and systems set up around you. No one is saying that it's all set in stone. Maybe you have a better way. Show me. Maybe you have a bigger plan. Prove it. Get organized, get focused, and hit the ground running doing things you never thought were even possible because they are.
But most of this offer gets pushed aside, and apathetic students filter into classrooms and out of classrooms, into meetings and planning sessions and out of them, giving little thought to the power and authority and potential they are leaving behind. Did you hear it? Another crack in the walls of my already broken heart.
Please don't give up the chance to do something great. Please don't ignore the call of your heart to something greater and bigger and more important than yourself. Seize potential and knock down anything in your way. All the work is worth it. All the fight is for something. It's not in vain. Is anybody listening? Did anyone hear my plea? I won't give up either, you know. I won't just let my argument die because even with a broken heart, I know first hand that it is worth it. I have dreamed, reached, fought, grew, learned, lead, served...and I will not stop. Even one life changed makes it all worth it for me.
So, I guess I pick up the broken pieces of my shattered heart one more time. I sew it back together with a little hope that I have indeed made a difference, that someone has indeed heard me, and that I will indeed change the world. My heart will mend, and most assuredly be broken again. But it will never cease to be worth it.
My job has become pretty much the definition of my life at this point. People are defined by all sorts of roles - mother, child, wife, student... Right now, I am defined by what I do, which is work to change lives in a setting that fosters change, growth, and the building up of young adults. And I will say, as I get started here, that I love the opportunity that I've been given. I love it. I have never looked at my role with disdain or disgrace. I am honored and joyful and humbled to be able to serve in the role I've been given. But it is an overwhelming responsibility most days. It's a responsibility that just seems too big to handle.
As silly as it seems, Greek life at UD has burdened me and broken my heart more than once this year. For most, it would seem a little silly because, whether a part of Greek culture or not in one's life, everyone has some sort of mental picture of what it all entails - parties, doing silly things, fee structures, uniformed colors and clothing... And sure, I would agree that it is most of those things. But it has the potential to be so much more. So much more.
Greek life, as I've come to know it over the past year and a half, is about lifelong relationships. It's about being a part of something that is bigger than yourself. It's about serving the community and the campus that you are a member of. It is about stretching personal boundaries, and growing, and changing, and learning, and leading. Or at least that's what it's set up to be.
I am constantly surprised by how little students are willing to acknowledge these facts, but more importantly, take advantage of them. Here is a system placed before you, free for the taking, that is asking you only to do great things with your life...not alone, but with others, in a unity that is rare to be found anywhere else. It is a system set up to give students power and authority to accomplish dreams and ambitions, to positively affect those around them, to build relationships, and to have fun while doing it all. But when students look at this feast that is set before them, for most, all they see is the hard work, effort, time, and commitment that is being asked of them, and instead of grasping it and enjoying it to the fullest, they are looking past it or around it to see if there's something a little less daunting. It's like being offered a giant platter of lobster but choosing to just drink the dipping butter in the cup beside it. The butter's a lot less work to take in even if it is much less rewarding or satisfying.
But possibly the most painful crack in my heart stems from the flat out rejection of a very clear offer that I have placed on the table before these students time and time again. The offer? DO ANYTHING. That's right. DO ANYTHING. You have the power, the authority, and the very opportunity to do whatever you want. Anarchy, you say? Certainly this is not what I, the avid planner and organizer of a thousand details, intend. I simply mean that if you want something, you need to be willing to fight for it, be committed to the cause, to work toward it, and to accomplish it. Push the limits of what you think you can do. Test the waters and the rules and systems set up around you. No one is saying that it's all set in stone. Maybe you have a better way. Show me. Maybe you have a bigger plan. Prove it. Get organized, get focused, and hit the ground running doing things you never thought were even possible because they are.
But most of this offer gets pushed aside, and apathetic students filter into classrooms and out of classrooms, into meetings and planning sessions and out of them, giving little thought to the power and authority and potential they are leaving behind. Did you hear it? Another crack in the walls of my already broken heart.
Please don't give up the chance to do something great. Please don't ignore the call of your heart to something greater and bigger and more important than yourself. Seize potential and knock down anything in your way. All the work is worth it. All the fight is for something. It's not in vain. Is anybody listening? Did anyone hear my plea? I won't give up either, you know. I won't just let my argument die because even with a broken heart, I know first hand that it is worth it. I have dreamed, reached, fought, grew, learned, lead, served...and I will not stop. Even one life changed makes it all worth it for me.
So, I guess I pick up the broken pieces of my shattered heart one more time. I sew it back together with a little hope that I have indeed made a difference, that someone has indeed heard me, and that I will indeed change the world. My heart will mend, and most assuredly be broken again. But it will never cease to be worth it.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Letting Go
This past week was a true testament of how far I've come since the first year of my job at UD. Homecoming came about last week, and although I was relatively ready for all of the activities and events that were to ensue, I certainly didn't expect what would happen.
I got sick.
It seems silly. Most people can get sick and just leave work, but for so much of what I do, I'm the only one with the play book, the only one with the notes or descriptions of what should happen. That's not to toot my own horn, but rather just to say that I work generally solo in my one-man-department.
Monday I was so sick, I didn't really care about what was supposed to happen for activities. I tried to get into work and get a few things done, but after two short hours, I was zapped. Tuesday, I didn't get in at all. Wednesday I made it in for a few hours. I was miserable, uncomfortable, and hungry. I wasn't ever really sure if I was going to make it to any events all week long. How terrible. One of the biggest weeks of my work-life, and I'm not there? How could this happen?
Well, in all of this, I realized how much I've learned about letting go of things. I had to let go of this week, like it or not, in order to heal. I had two choices when it came down to it: freak out and stress about it or just plain let it go. And, against my very nature, I chose to let go. And thank God! What a good choice! I can't control when I get sick or how long I am out, but I can control how I react.
Letting go, I think, shows growth, maturity, and experience. I feel blessed to be able to gain this valuable experience in my job. It has really changed me for the better, shaping me into the person God has created me to be. So, although this week as difficult, I'm glad to have gone through this week just as I have, sickness and all. It reminds me that God is good. So good.
I got sick.
It seems silly. Most people can get sick and just leave work, but for so much of what I do, I'm the only one with the play book, the only one with the notes or descriptions of what should happen. That's not to toot my own horn, but rather just to say that I work generally solo in my one-man-department.
Monday I was so sick, I didn't really care about what was supposed to happen for activities. I tried to get into work and get a few things done, but after two short hours, I was zapped. Tuesday, I didn't get in at all. Wednesday I made it in for a few hours. I was miserable, uncomfortable, and hungry. I wasn't ever really sure if I was going to make it to any events all week long. How terrible. One of the biggest weeks of my work-life, and I'm not there? How could this happen?
Well, in all of this, I realized how much I've learned about letting go of things. I had to let go of this week, like it or not, in order to heal. I had two choices when it came down to it: freak out and stress about it or just plain let it go. And, against my very nature, I chose to let go. And thank God! What a good choice! I can't control when I get sick or how long I am out, but I can control how I react.
Letting go, I think, shows growth, maturity, and experience. I feel blessed to be able to gain this valuable experience in my job. It has really changed me for the better, shaping me into the person God has created me to be. So, although this week as difficult, I'm glad to have gone through this week just as I have, sickness and all. It reminds me that God is good. So good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)