Fear

I'm not a big fan of fear. I really don't like scary movies or books. I don't like the dark (cause scary things can hide there) and wouldn't be caught within 100 yards of a haunted house. Considering all of that, it's surprising how often "afraid" is how I feel. It's not like I seek it out, afterall. But somehow, it seems to constantly creep in. And so often at the point when the last thing I want or need to be dealing with is fear.

I've spent the majority of today in near terror. Surprising considering I got a call from the Seminary to tell me I've been accepted and that all the information for me to register is on it's way here. Even MORE surprising considering I got a callback from the job interview I had yesterday, they want me up for a second interview (the final step in the process). And the final kicker, Zach had a second interview for the job he applied for at Bethel and it sounds like it went great! You would think, with all of that, I'd be bouncing off the walls with joy. But I'm not...I'm scared. I'm not even scared about either of those things. I'm scared about the 'what ifs'.

The only thought I've had for most of the day has been "what if' I mess it up". There it is, the core of the fear. "What if I mess it up". What if I mess up what God is doing. What if, in trying to do normal, mundane things that I think I'm "supposed" to do in order for us to move, I screw it all up. What if I break it so bad God just says "to heck with it, they're on their own!" or "She created this mess...she can get herself out of it!".

I try to remind myself that response sounds nothing like the God I know, who continues to show up. That God has lead us into this process, and that He's not going to just "dump us" and leave us to fend for ourselves. That He keeps orchestrating each step, once piece at a time. We needed a great renter and we got one, Zach needed a great job and its looking good for him to get one, I need a great job and, again, it's looking good. Even the money piece keeps falling into place. But as hard as I try to remember all those things, the fear so often seems to get the best of me.

And so I cry and try to remember that God is in this. That, as my incredibly wise counselor reminds me often, God isn't the author of fear, that it doesn't come from Him. That it, instead, comes from One who would like nothing better than to see me crippled by my fear, cowering and ineffective. And so I push on. Hoping beyond hope that, in the end, there is a God who doesn't know the meaning of "too messed up". That He's brought us this far and isn't about to quit now.

With those thoughts, I try to find my way to belief. Belief that it really will all be "ok". That God really does "have it". And, as I wade through the muck of fear, I hope and pray that someday soon belief will finally win out.

"Half-way"

Multi-tasking. It's something I normally pride myself on. For those of you who have ever walked into my office, you're well aware of my love of "many things at once". My computer has two monitors attached to it and I generally have at least 3 things going at once. I've been known to make people nauseous bouncing back and forth between windows (Photoshop...Firefox...other Firefox...Illustrator...InDesign...back to Firefox....Desktop...Photoshop again). I usually thrive on it, ideas roll like waves crashing onto the shore as I bounce from window to window.

But not today. The multi-tasking side of my brain seems to be broken. Well, ok, maybe not broken...I think it's just finally become completely overloaded. A startling feat for me. But, nevertheless, here it is...complete mental shutdown. I've been working on the same simple project (a new poster for the next series at Woodcrest) for the better part of 3 hours and am no closer to completion than I was 3 hours ago. As I stare at my half-finished poster, I'm left contemplating the current 'half-finished' state of my life. Stuck in limbo somewhere between Missouri and Minnesota...half-way between what's "safe" and what's "scary".

"Half-way" isn't very fun. Our house has been rented, but we're still living in it. I've applied for a new job (House Manager for Bethel's 1400 seat auditorium) but am still working at my old one. We've paid rent on our new apartment, but don't have a single thing inside of it. I've even managed to only turn on half the utilities at our new place. Living a "half-way" life is not something I enjoy. But I guess, in retrospect, that's part of the reason for this move. I can't bring myself to live a "half-way" life. "Half-way" doing what God wants, "half-way" doing what I believe God created me to do.

So I'll hunker down and push through. I'll finish my poster (even if it's not the most stellar work I've ever done). We'll get our house packed and moved (and the utilities turned on...A/C is good). I'll eventually say good-bye to my "old" job and hopefully hello to my "new" one and I'll continue to hope that somewhere along the way my multi-tasking, ADD brain will find it's way back home. I guess it doesn't like living a "half-way" life either.

Butterfly Fear

I've been thinking a lot lately about butterflies. Well, ok, not butterflies exactly...more caterpillars. For those of you who don't remember your 5th grade science class, caterpillars become butterflies. But before they become butterflies, they have to go through an experience that has created in me a curious sense of kinship with these fuzzy little guys. Caterpillars spend most of their early lives munching away on whatever leafy, green goodies they can find. Moving from branch to branch, they live pretty simple lives, other than the occasional scare from a bird or some other caterpillar-eating monster of course. But at some point in a caterpillars leaf-eating life, something starts to change. They loose interest in the leaves that had been their entire existence and begin one of the strangest journeys in nature. They become obsessed with finding the "right spot" and there begin building a chrysalis, a cocoon. Once their chrysalis is complete, the pudgy little guy climbs in and then POOF several days later out comes a butterfly!

A pretty amazing transformation (and pretty creative way to create butterflies too!). But my kinship lately isn't so much with the butterfly, it's with the caterpillar. Now I know caterpillars probably don't have feelings, or brains mature enough to comprehend what is going on in them, but indulge me for a bit. What if they did....what if the caterpillar suddenly found himself with this unexplainable desire to abandon all he knows and do something completely different (and quite odd to be honest). Is he afraid? Confused? A bit excited? What do all his little bug friends think about his new project? Do his grasshopper and ant buddies point and whisper "look at that crazy caterpillar over there...he's gone NUTS!".

That's how I'm feeling lately...a bit like the caterpillar. Confused, afraid, excited...and all at once sometimes. I mentioned in my last post that we're moving to Minnesota. Well, that move is coming fast...in less than 2 months now. But I have yet to tell you all the reason for our sudden departure. About 3 years ago I had the chance to go to Israel. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life and one that rekindled my passion for history. I've always loved ancient history. While all the other girls were flirting with the boy next to them on the school bus, I was the geeky one with my nose shoved into a book about Cleopatra or Paul Revere. Spending 2 weeks in Israel relit that passion in ways I didn't even understand. Over the last few years, much like our little caterpillar friend, I've been "filling up" on yummy history goodness. Learning more about Jewish history and how it affects Christianity (my particular leafy weakness). A few months ago, Zach and I started talking about 'what's next' for us. It had become pretty clear that teaching wasn't what God had for him, but as we were processing that, God had a surprise for me.

Through a LOOONG series of events, conversations, yelling, crying, etc, God showed up...and asked this chubby little caterpillar to get ready, cause He had a different plan in mind than she did. That the passion for ancient history and interest in Jewish/Christian history wasn't just a "hobby", it was about to become my life. That God was calling me into a new career path, one of a professor of Biblical History.

And so begins my kinship with the caterpillar. Before I can become a "beautiful teaching professor butterfly" I first have to climb into my chrysalis, to develop my wings. Ok, that may be stretching the analogy a little far. Nevertheless, off I go, to school. To begin a Master's program at Bethel Seminary in Theological Studies...hopefully towards an eventual PhD and a job as a professor (hopefully at Mizzou!). It's what I know I'm supposed to do and I know that it's where God is calling but still, I'm left wondering....is the caterpillar as scared as I am?

Dr. Fleischman, a Moose and Me

So here it is, my very first attempt at a blog. It's something I've thought about off and on for months...as our crazy lives seem to be getting crazier, the idea of having a place where all the randomness in my head could be released seemed like it might be a decent idea. So...here it is. Northern Exposure. I strange title, I admit, but one that seems fitting considering the "adventure" we're about to head off on.

For those you who don't remember, Northern Exposure was a WONDERFULLY random show from the early 90s about a young Jewish doctor (Joel Fleischman) from New York who ended up in the tiny town of Cicely, Alaska for 4 years, to pay back the state of Alaska for funding his education. The people are wierd, the weather is FRIGID and there are moose walking around loose in the middle of town.

So why on earth, you may ask, is my blog called Northern Exposure? I'm not Jewish or a doctor, and I certainly don't owe the state of Alaska $100,000 for my education (although Direct Loans sure gets a good sized check each month). Despite all of this, I'm currently feeling a great kinship with Dr. Fleischman and his Alaskan detour. You see my husband Zach and I are about to head off on our own northern 'detour' of sorts. We've decided to go back to school, and that school is in Minneapolis, Minnesota!

Ok...I will admit it's not quite as dramatic as being sent to a small town in northern Alaska. But for a Missouri girl who's only plan was to find a way to get CLOSER to the equator, the idea of Minnesota isn't all that appealing. It's cold up there! And, while I'm sure the people of MN are perfectly nice (much like the people of Cicely, AK) they all seem just a bit odd to me. I mean, who drives a car out onto the ice and leaves it there until spring! That's called crazy where I'm from! And there are bears...IN TOWN! Not quite as bad as Alaskan moose in your town square, but still....bears?!

But despite all of this, it is to Minnesota we go. I know that leaves lots of questions...why? when? where? (well, ok, maybe not where since I already told you, but I was on a roll) Well, for that, we'll both just have to wait. You see, it's gotten a bit late and I'm ready for some sleep and hopefully with dreams of warm oceans and sandy beaches...not snow and moose, and certainly not bears!