#76 on my 101 things list is to join a book club. I am now part of a book club thanks to Rachel who also inspired my 101 things list.  Recently I was trying to recruit members for my book club and describing what kinds of things we read. We read everything. Okay, we don’t actually read everything, we read no pulp fiction (like romance novels, mysteries, or fantasy) We figure we can read those on our own. However, we read some fiction, some non-fiction, a little bit of everything. For fun (and to avoid work) I’m going to give a brief review of the books we’ve read so far.

1) Water For Elephants- a novel about a boy who runs away to join the circus, very entertaining but a few graphic sex scenes

2) Three Cups of Tea- non-fiction, about a man who is hiking in Pakistan, gets lost and discovers a village where children learn even though they don’t have a school.  He sets out to build them a school and then begins an organization that does the same for villages all over Pakistan and Afghanistan.

3) The Hunchback of Notre Dame- this was an experiment in reading classics we feel we “should” read. It failed. Only two of us got all the way through, and I’d read it once before.

4) The Known World- a novel about African Americans who owned slaves in Virginia. It had a non-linear plot which many members of the club found annoying.

5) Life of Pi- a novel about a boy who is shipwrecked in a lifeboat with a tiger. Fun with zoology, religion and life at sea.

6) I’m a Stranger Here Myself- a completely hilarious non-fiction book by a man who lived in England for 20 years and moved back to the U.S. Quips about U.S. culture ensue. Be prepared to laugh very hard, quote things to random people around you and just generally enjoy yourself.

7) The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner at America’s Holiest University- a non-fiction book by a student from a mostly secular home who spent a semester at Liberty University. Its an interesting view of evangelical Christians that is both a critique of the culture and honest reflection on how the culture changes you.

8 ) The Invention of Hugo Cabret- a children’s book that is half (or less) words and lots and lots of gorgeous pictures. Unlike a picture book or illustrated novel however, the photos themselves move the plot along.

I think this is all we’ve read so far. I could be wrong. Up next: Ella Minnow Pea- which I haven’t read yet (I’m still waiting for the library to call me with my reserved copy) and our potential winter book is Waiting for Snow in Havana.

Recently I found a new walking route, which gets me out of the townhouse/apartment invaded Menno land that I live in and into the country, where I can see the mountains and smell farms. (I’m a country girl, smelling farms is important, even the not nice smells) Anyway, because I have a love affair with lists, I’m going to list the animals (wild and domestic) I have seen so far on my walk.

1. At least three different kinds of cows (I’m not a cow-identification expert so I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure there are at least three kinds)
2. Two fawns less than 10 feet away (and on a separate occasion an adult deer further away)
3. Bunnies, wild
4. Lots o’ birds – my favorite are the Yellow Finches that eat the thistles in the field
5. Dogs (I’ve seen 1 and heard at least 2)
6. 2 Geese (who honk and chase me when I walk past)
7. 3 Guinea Hens
8. Lots ‘o Sheep
9. 1 Horse
10. Rats (on a farm, not up close)
11. 1 snake (dead, thankfully)
12. Goats
13. Chickens
14. Monarch Butterflies (I know, technically not an animal)

Number of Humans I’ve seen (not including the ones speeding past me in cars)- 5 – 1 other walker, 2 joggers, and 2 people working in thier yards.

I was just ruminating on what our world would be like if we had a zucchini economy. Here’s what I mean: in the last several weeks I’ve been the benefactor of one of my friends over-producing zucchini plants.  My friends begged me to take all the squash in their garden. “We can’t use it. We’ve eaten all we want. We’ve frozen more, and we’ve made more zucchini bread than we can stand. Please take it!”  So I did. And have been enjoying it all week, even enhancing my own generosity. This week I’ve been happily thinking about all the zucchini cookies and bread I can share with friends. Juxtapose this with listening to the endless stream of news about the economy. My hubby insists that this is mostly a redistribution of wealth. Money doesn’t just disappear, is his logic. So my thought is: What if we treated our money like we treat our zucchini. Sure, take what you need. Save a little back, and then give it away. “Please, take this. I don’t need it. I have everything I can use.” I realize that this smacks of socialism, which is apparently nearly a curse word these days. And I realize that this idea requires human beings to be more than greedy and selfish, but just for a moment, I’m going to pretend that maybe it’s not true, and we really could live this way. The vision is nearly as beautiful as that backyard garden that has generously provided me with all the zucchini I can use.

(and in a mildly related vein— a friend of mine just posted this to facebook and I thought it was completely worth reposting here).

Patriotism
by Ellie Schoenfeld
My country is this dirt
that gathers under my fingernails
when I am in the garden.
The quiet bacteria and fungi,
all the little insects and bugs
are my compatriots. They are
idealistic, always working together
for the common good.
I kneel on the earth
and pledge my allegiance
to all the dirt of the world,
to all of that soil which grows
flowers and food
for the just and unjust alike.
The soil does not care
what we think about or who we love.
It knows our true substance,
of what we are really made.
I stand my ground on this ground,
this ground which will
ultimately
recruit us all
to its side.

“Patriotism” by Ellie Schoenfeld, from The Dark Honey. © Clover Valley Press, 2009.

“The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong in the broken places.”- Ernest Hemingway.

Part of the above quote was a sermon title written by a good friend of mine and posted on her blog. I’ve been thinking about it all week. I even wrote it on a post-it, which I’ve stuck to various parts of my desk the last few days. For some weeks I’ve been teetering on the edge of despair. Financial stress, job stress (like will I still have my job in a year) and the fact that I am again facing a wave of friends moving on and away, has placed me on a kind of roller coaster of hope and despair.

When I reach that level of despair I cling desperately to the things I’m good at. I’ve made lots of healthy meals lately. I dive into and devour books. Recently, I have on numerous occasions talked about the indescribable joy that spiritual direction brings me.  Sometimes I feel like I am most myself when I’m giving spiritual direction. I can let my intuitive sense run to it fullest capacity without sheltering it or myself from the insights I recieve.

Which is why today, I think the world broke me. Here is some background: I graduated seminary three years ago, at the age of 25. I was one of two 25 year olds in my graduating class. In my final year of seminary I heard, on more occasions that I can count, that it will be difficult for me to find a job as pastor, because of my gender and my age. And in part due to that, I decided to put that ministry on hold for a while. I found another job (which I enjoy, I really do) and have put my formal ministry efforts into volunteering at my church and spiritual direction. I have heard from a few new directees that my age is a bit off-putting to them at the beginning. But usually (I hope) my skills and gifts have overshadowed my age once they got to know me. However, today, I was out and out rejected by someone, who hadn’t even met me yet, because of my age.

It hurts on a level I can barely explain. It brings up all those old wounds, the  district overseer who looked me straight in the eye and said, “Wouldn’t it be a good idea for you to get another job first, before you try to become a pastor?” (FYI- this is not good pastoral care for a third year seminary student), the pastor of my home congregation who “forgot” to schedule me to preach a sermon, the well-meaning female professor who told all the female students that it took women twice as long to get jobs as their male colleagues. Up until today, I felt like maybe I was finally healing from that pain, but maybe not.

Sometimes I feel like we live in a world obsessed with packaging. Our food comes in brightly colored boxes and neat plastic wrappings. There are literally millions are articles written about appearance (most of them directed at women). We are told over and over that what’s on the outside will tell us whether what’s on the inside is good.

I have gifts and talents for ministry. I know I do. I know because I just know, and I know because other people have told me, but because I don’t come in the expected package… I’m not male, I’m not middle-aged or older, I’m not even tall, and I don’t have a deep voice, somehow what’s on the outside has overshadowed everything that’s on the inside.  All the God-given talent and ability in the world can’t seem to break free of that outer package.

I want to live in the reality of the second half of that Hemingway quote, about growing back stronger. But right now, honestly I don’t know how. I’m not a quitter, but sometimes I don’t want to be a fighter either. And mostly, I’m just tired of the fact that being me, somehow isn’t enough.

Okay, so I realized today that I’ve done some of the things on my 101 things in 1001 days list that I have accounted for.

Here they are (in no particular order)

#23- Host Sunday lunch- on Sunday we hosted our church for Sunday lunch. Each Sunday we have a meal after church sometimes its in someone’s home, sometimes its at the church. This Sunday we hosted. Because it’s July there were only 26 people in church, but 23 of them came to my house for lunch. It was a very interesting challenge finding sitting spaces for all those folks.

#26- Visit a zoo or aquarium- I want to go to more than one, but last weekend we visited the Columbus Zoo in Ohio with B’s sister, who has a pass. We didn’t have much time (only 2 hours for the whole zoo) but it was fun anyway.

#28- Plant a garden. I don’t know if what I have qualifies as a garden or not, but I do have containers of mint, basil, tomatoes and peppers on my deck. It’s as much of a garden as I”m going to get this year.

#39- Create a reading corner in my house- I bought a chair for the particular corner I was thinking about and put a lamp in it and fluffed it out with blankets and pillows, but I haven’t done much reading there. Maybe this winter when its too cold to read on the deck, my current reading spot.

#44- Buy and use reusable grocery bags- I have not actually bought any bags, but I have acquired a number as free giveaways at various things. I’m working at remembering to use them. Of course the unplanned walmart trips with the hubby don’t lend themselves to reusable grocery bags, but hopefully I’ll get more and more used to carrying them with me. And if I totally ran out of plastic bags I wouldn’t have anything to clean out the litter box with, so I won’t be able to go totally plastic bag free I don’t think.

1) Enjoying fireworks on the fourth of July. I know in my head that they simulate bombing and that our national anthem is all about war (do you think this might have shaped our national identity as a country constantly at war?) But all that aside, fireworks are really freakin’ cool.

2) Throwing away food. I still have some voice in my head that says that starving children in China could eat that, even through it’s moldy and I can’t tell what it is.

3) Leaving my cat at home alone. I know it’s pathetic.

4) Driving my car 2 blocks to the grocery store, or work, or any other place I could reasonably walk to.

5) Buying fresh produce in the off-season, because I know it comes from Chile or New Zealand or something.

6) Complaining about my job when I know I really need it and so many people don’t have them.

7) Buying and consuming things that are overpackaged, including but not limited to- bottled water, frozen dinners, fast food, and almost anything from a mega-store.

8 ) Not being more involved in politics.

9) Buying my clothing really cheap, because it was probably made by nearly slave labor in some Asian country.

10) Writing blog posts when I’m supposed to be working.

The booties and hat I crocheted have turned into a useful (or at least semi-useful) items for Heidi Schoenhals. Congratulations to Mark and Sarah!

People say that having children makes you more of an adult. And its true, most of the time. My brother might be the possible exception (love you, bro). I don’t have children, but in the last year I have acquired a cat, and she has made me more adult (and has been practice for someday having children). Here are some ways:

1. She doesn’t let me sleep in. At approximate 5:30 a.m. every morning my cat decides its time to wake up and do one of the following: scratch the brand new chair in the bedroom, sit on my chest and hit me in the nose with her paw, push the books off my dresser/nightstand/etc, climb behind the wooden blinds making them clack, or play with anything fragile I happen to have in the bedroom. One of these usually brings me to consciousness, at least long enough to yell at her.
2. She requires play. My cat requires a certain amount of playtime every day. I can’t just drift into my own world when I get home. And she makes it quite obvious if I’m not playing with her and she wants me to. (See above list re: knocking things over)
3. She never leaves me alone for long. I do not have one of those aloof cats that could care less if you’re around as long as she has food. My cat has to be where I am and doesn’t understand why she’s not the center of attention when I’m washing dishes, or working on the computer, or making dinner.
4. She is helping me learn how to not spoil a child. I admit that my cat is fairly spoiled. She has definite ways of making her wants and desires known. And she’s so darn cute that sometimes I want to give her treats just because… but in order to keep my own sanity I am learning how to not give in to everything she “asks” for.

Slowly, I’m learning to crochet. I have the book “The Happy Hooker” to thank for any success. It has great instructional sections and some super cute patterns in the back. The patterns for the above items, a baby present for a friend of mine, came from the internet, my new favorite source for free crochet patterns.

While Easter is still a few days away, I think it’s safe to say that I mostly failed at my attempt to give up saying “Yes” to things for Lent. Once or twice I thought about it but given my current level of energy I think it’s safe to say that I failed. Thank goodness for grace. Actually I knew this was going to be a problem because the weeks of Lent were already full of things I said “yes” to be before Lent began. Here’s the short list:

1. Worship hosting at The Table
2. Planning and executing a short dance workshop
3. Attending a Table retreat
4. Attending a Table Workshop
5. Helping plan things for all of the above
6. Writing something for another worship service (and attempting and failing to write something for a third)
7. Writing a business plan to attempt to get a bank loan
8. Meeting with bank after bank after bank and attempting to get a business loan
9. Attending Water Aerobics 1 or 2 nights a week most weeks
10. Working 28 hours this weekend for the furniture store- at the store or the Home and Garden show.

These of course do not count all the work projects, which have included completely revising the seminary catalog (online and paper version), putting together the booklet of courses for next year, helping to edit the commencement book, putting the senior profiles online, and countless other projects I can’t name here.  Perhaps the phrase “Just say no” would have been appropriate.
I did get the list of “ways to say no” from our prof of pastoral care. I’m going to list them  in case I lose the paper copy (and because I think it might be the most useful hand-out I ever got in seminary)

Nine ways to say no

If saying no is as hard for as it is for most people, here are a few ways to say no that might help you in the future:

1. Perfectly Valid No- I’ve been out three nights this week. I’m staying home and watching television with the kids.” Say it like you mean it.
2. No-After-Saying-Yes No- (would have been useful for me) I’ve made a mistake. I shouldn’t have committed myself. I’m sorry, I”ll have to back out.” Hang up the phone and give a huge sigh of relief.
3. Five-Star No- (This is my favorite: there’s no come-back for it) “I’ll have to pass it up.
4. No-Right-Now No- I’ve done it in the past and I’ll do it in the future, but I can’t do it right now.
5. Polite No- “I’m sorry, but my schedule doesn’t permit me to take on any more obligations this (pick one) week/month/year/decade.
6. No-Way No- This one is for the teenage son who want you to call your friends for a ride so he can have your care. Look directly in his eyes, smile and enunciate clearly. Say No.
7. Diplomatic No- “It was kind of you to think of me. I”m flattered you asked. I’m sorry I won’t be able to do it.
8. Cowardly No- Backed into a corner? Feeling low on energy or courage or both? Feeling somewhat desperate? Use this one: “My husband/mother/child doesn’t want me to do that.”
9. Absolute No- “I cannot do this. I don’t have the desire, the time, the interest, or the energy. NO, absolutely not, Never.” Save this one for special occasions.

I wish my best intentions had been put into action, alas, they were not and so now I am just waiting for the resurrection of four glorious days off work for Easter break.  Of course, there’s that sermon I have to write and probably something for Easter Sunday at The Table, and the house that needs spring cleaning, and all the things I have wanted to do that I couldn’t do for the last six weeks…