My friend Jill

2009-06-10T21:38:00.000-07:00

My friend Jill fires questions at me non-stop during our 90-minute walk around Como Lake. They are like volleyballs hurling toward me, none of which know how, nor am I happy about, attempting to answer or return.

When do you see your hand specialist after dislocating your thumb playing volleyball? Aum, depends when I can afford it. Have you seen any of your ex-boyfriends? No. What did you do for Mother's Day other than actually going to South Dakota? Nothing. Are you going to throw your parents a party for their fortieth anniversary? No. No?? You don't want to do something? You don't think it would be rewarding? Hmmm. Okay; wait for their fiftieth. How's your job search going? Nowhere? Weren't you and your mom going to travel to Chicago every year? Silence.

Jill may be the most positive and upbeat sociable friend I have ever had. She's been married only two years, but despite decades of dating--something we can share--she can boast of never having been in a heartbreaking relationship. Since we've been friends, she's sustained two critical injuries, once while three-wheeling in Mexico and once during a fall painting her house at seven months pregnant. From both episodes, she bounced back within weeks and months without missing a day of work or checking out from the life of a friend. Now, she has an angelic five-month old son who is smiling at us from the buggy that she's pushing at about ten miles per hour. Granted, since Caleb has been born he has distracted her attention so that some of her questions don't take into account recent positive things in my world.

Meanwhile, I'm a little more numb after every question she asks. At the same time, the displeasure is limited because I know I need to react a little bit differently to each question than what I do naturally, left to my own devices. In Christ, we are new creatures. It's been a painful birth. But for example, the job search that's going nowhere. I do recall that Jill, too, has been pursuing a job search. Not one easily to get discouraged, she had indicated to me recently she had tabled her search after deciding that no one was hiring. With her question tonight, it's extremely likely she was co-misserating with me, not answering my question for me with an assumption that there had been no progress.

Actually, I always look forward to seeing Jill. Tonight her 5-month old son, with her dark hair and long eyelashes, gazing and laughing at us from his buggy, oblivious to the bumps gently tossing him to and fro. He's starting to look like a teddy bear.

Funny how I think even my friends are constantly giving me tests. Yet it's a new summer in Minnesota. The greens are brilliant, the winds are gentle, and the sand underneath my feet is cool. I still have a job, I still have my condo, and I still have this blog.

The toad was all wet.

My Saturday

2008-09-20T19:16:00.000-07:00

8:30 AM
It’s a mid-September Saturday morning, three months after I laughed while crying through the closing ceremony for the purchase of this condo. I had been afraid of not being able to afford the place financially and afraid of a few other things too. Today, though, the sun is shining, and I'm remembering why I was interested in this place. I bump into my neighbor Meredith at a nearby school bake sale. Meredith reminds me I signed up in June to bring treats at the next neighborhood meeting, next Monday! As I make arrangements to borrow her coffee-making equipment, I ponder the beauty of a simple and live reminder from a friend. I'm saved from a Saturday-night sort through my emails to recall the meeting date! It's representative of a life I started to envision two years ago at a Woodland Hills small group leaders' retreat.

Before I buy a cinnamon roll, Meredith introduces me to Cam Gordon, our Minneapolis City Council representative. He and Meredith discuss the investigation of possible overuse of force by police at the Republican National Convention a couple weeks ago. Now I am laughing! God bless them for keeping our police force on its toes. After it tried to protect us from who knows what two weeks ago.

10:00 am
Grab a cup of coffee at the Overflow. Where I met the Chaplain as my dad was helping me move into my condo. Sure enough. The Chaplain shares some of the liberal sentiments of the area. One of the books he lent me does make a good point, however. Liberal and conservative Christians can help correct for the blind spots of one another.

11:00 am.
Conservative Issues Fair at the Hilton Airport. I am volunteering to help staff a booth for Ed Matthews, a Republican challenging Representative Betty McCollum. Before my shift I discover a booth for an organization called the National Coalition of Free Men – Twin Cities Chapter. Intriguing.

A few booths down I meet Barb Davis White, a black woman with a pony tail frosted with blond highlights. She is running for Congress as a Republican in north Minneapolis! She explains she is a minister who converted all of her congregation to the Republican ticket before stepping down to pursue a political campaign. It seems like a historic moment, meeting a Minneapolis woman prepared to advocate for the lives of the 760,000 black babies lost annually to abortion. Barb delivers a prayer invocation to open the fair’s afternoon session for which Ed thanks her.

2:30 pm.
After changing out of my campaign clothes, I run back to the booth to grab an “Ed Matthews for Congress” bumper sticker for my 2003 Mazda Tribute. I’ve never had a bumper sticker before, but I like how it looks! I have always been concerned, what if I do something dumb while driving and ruin my message forever. I must also admit I’m concerned about the reaction of the tolerant liberals of my locale. But, how can I volunteer for a campaign and not bear a bumper sticker. Thank you, God, for GAP insurance!

6:00 pm.
Pizza supper at my sister’s house. I show Chloe my niece the bumper sticker on the back of my car and also some new clothes I bought at Mall of America.

The Chaplain calls. We make plans to talk later in the evening.

It’s great to see my sister. She is recovering still from an incident two months ago when her purse was stolen from my car in Como Park. Bad checks forged. But Rachel is asking, “what can I learn from this experience? If I have faith in God, how would that change my perspective of this situation?”

Her one-year-old son, Grayson, says "good-bye" to me for the first time as I'm leaving. I turn around toward the screen door to make sure it's actually him.

8:00 pm.
Walk and run around the U of M campus by my condo. It’s a little late for me to be out exercising, but I've been enjoying the environment there now that the school year is in progress. Skateboards and scooters. Young couples in love.

9:30 pm
Trying to write down some thoughts on my PC. Distracted, tired by this time.

10:00 pm
I try calling the Chaplain. Leave a message.

10:30 pm
The Chaplain calls me back. He spent the day sampling coffee houses. I should be going to bed if I want to sustain the rhythm I created during my day. What a fun day--representing all the contrast I love in an urban environment. But the Chaplain seems to want to talk. To me? At me? It is difficult to tell which certainly ought to be a signal to me. Terror of the night. His Army assignment in Wisconsin ends next Sunday. From there he starts an Army continuing education class school out of state at the end of November, and from there he plans to proceed into Active Duty.

Roses and Lollipops

My friend Jill

My Saturday