Road Trip

A short time ago, I combined a couple of events I wanted to attend as incentive for a two and a half week road trip through the Midwest.

True to form, I began by making a spreadsheet - who I would see, where I would stay, when I would be in each location and for how long. 

It turns out that driving for seventeen days across the country by yourself is not just a chance to see friends and family, but an interesting learning experience.

First, I learned that I can drive for a very long time without making a pit stop.  Second, I discovered that every rest stop in Nebraska is EXACTLY THE SAME, which gave me a weird sense of deja-vu when I pulled in - how far had I actually travelled?  Third, I should really have brought more than one CD (or at least an I-pod) for the no radio zones in Nebraska and Wyoming (although Tim McGraw was a great travelling companion.)

The reaction I got when I arrived for a visit or lunch or drinks was usually - wait, you drove all the way from Denver...by yourself?

Even my twenty-four year old daughter was shocked when I told her of my plans.

My reaction - why wouldn't I take this road trip?  I am a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of herself.  And this is not the first time I traveled cross country by myself. 

In the grand scheme of things, my trip was a success.

I had wonderful conversations, lunches, breakfasts, happy hours, walks, dinners, celebrations and evenings by the campfire with friends and family I had not seen for a very long time.  The years melted away with ease as we fell back into comfortable conversations. 

And I never lacked for a place to lay my head at night. 

The only downside - I was so focused on my destinations and keeping to my schedule that I sometimes missed the joy of the journey.

I never stopped in Ogallala, Nebraska.  No special reason why I should have - except that ever since I watched the mini-series Lonesome Dove back in the mid 80's and they stayed at a ranch in Ogallala I have loved the name of the town. 

I drove right by John Wayne's birthplace and the bridges of Madison County - because I wanted to make the hotel in Des Moines by my self-imposed deadline.

I didn't stop to take pictures of the gorgeous views in South Dakota and Wyoming.  I didn't stop in the small town I drove through to enjoy a meal at a local café.  I pushed on, wanting to keep on schedule.  All to prove...what?

I managed to see both my niece and brother in record time before heading to the Twin Cities for a stop at my former workplace (another self-imposed deadline).  I visited for an hour or so with my niece before I headed to see my brother.  He could not get off work - so I stopped in at Sam's Club, found him, chatted for a few minutes and left.  I could have spent the day in the area, stayed for dinner with my brother, but I had a schedule to keep...

The rest of my trip followed the same pattern. 

See friends and family, but keep on schedule.  I had meals with friends in Minneapolis - stayed at their houses - and followed my spreadsheet.  I attended my cousin's wedding - stayed with my family - stayed with friends.  I drove to southern Wisconsin - saw more friends - stayed with more family - ate more planned meals.  Back to Minnesota for a night with more friends - a graduation celebration - and meals with more friends.  Then on to South Dakota for more of the same.

I was trying hard to be in control and keep on my preplanned itinerary at all times.

Thank goodness life didn't always cooperate...

An unscheduled morning early in my trip gave me time to enjoy a Northern Lite Latte at Caribou Coffee, start to read a book just for the fun of it, and walk the trails in Bunker Hills Park.  I tried to schedule a breakfast meeting - but am so glad it didn't work out.

Happy hour with the Ham Lake mom's was planned, but the walk to and from the restaurant was not.  Turns out, that walk was just as important as the planned part of the night.  The following day, a spontaneous stroll around the old neighborhood turned into a simple breakfast with another friend. This gave us a chance to share in ways we never did when we lived by each other. 

My tendency to over plan would have meant missing those opportunities.

Keeping to my spreadsheet would have resulted in missing the frozen custard we "had" to have after my nephew's baseball game.  I would never have eaten at that quirky little restaurant in Madison.  And I would have missed out on a Wisconsin fish fry...

A random turn on our way to see Mount Rushmore landed me and my friends in the yard of a former co-worker who had a cabin in the area.  He and his wife were not on my itinerary for the day - but it sure worked out great! 

So, what did I really learn on this trip?

I learned that planning has its place in life - but being flexible to change that plan is even more important.  I learned that not every minute of every day needs to be scheduled.  I learned that it is important to be spontaneous. 

Tough lesson for someone who likes to be in control (or at least likes to think she is in control).

I also learned the importance of friends and family.  They are the reason I started this journey - and the reason I was able to complete it.  Making connections, staying connected, and investing time in those connections is so important.  I could never have done this trip without them. 

A good friend told me that I would not be truly retired until I could do a road trip without the spreadsheet.  For someone who is a planner by nature, this is a scary thought, but I believe she may be on to something.

I will probably never be a person who gives up all control - that is so against my nature.  But, I have learned the value of not trying to control everything.  So, maybe that next trip I will leave a few more open spots on my internal spreadsheet...who knows what great things will happen?

A Faith for all Seasons

Ecclesiastes 3:1

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

1 Corinthians 12:5-6

There are different kinds of service and the same Lord.  There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work.

The beginning… I was a child in small town Wisconsin and like most everyone growing up at that time in small town Wisconsin, we belonged to one of the local churches.  I was baptized, attended Sunday school, was confirmed and sang in the church’s high school choir.  My parents attended church one or two times a month (mostly on communion Sundays) and holidays.  Service was not really part of our faith language - we were more observers than active participants.

As a college student and young adult I fell away from church - attending only on holidays with my family.  Faith took a backseat to my education, work and social life.

Then, in what felt like a blink of an eye, I found myself married and responsible for the well-being of a small child.  I was a parent!  We needed to find a church...fast.

During this new season my faith life revolved around what I could do for my daughter - to set an example and make her a better Christian than I felt I was.  I became a Sunday School teacher, a Confirmation guide, a member of the Youth Committee.  I helped with overnights, fundraisers, and youth retreats.  I encouraged my teenage daughter to embrace her faith - going on mission trips, helping with VBS, and working as a Lutheran camp counselor for several summers.  

As I tried to nurture her faith foundation, I found my own faith grow as an unexpected bonus.

Just as I was getting comfortable with this season, life decided to change course.  Our daughter graduated high school, my husband had a chance to fulfill a lifelong dream and we moved to Colorado where I started my journey all over again.  I was an empty nester, knew no one but my husband and felt a hole in my spiritual life.

So, we began the search for a church...and found Cross of Christ.

My faith journey entered a new season, one that focused on me and my talents, rather than a desire to put my daughter on the right path.  I looked for ways to get involved.  I tried choir and while I loved the singing and camaraderie - it was not the right fit for me at that time.  Then, I saw a blurb about “Dinner for Eight” and told my husband we were going to give this a try.  Being a good husband he said, “yes, dear.”

This small collection of people became our core friend and support group in Colorado.  We found faith building and fellowship with them.  We celebrated weddings, birthdays, anniversaries and graduations together.  We supported each other in times of sorrow, injury, illness and aging parent issues.  We are what small group ministry is all about.  

Cross of Christ and Dinner for Eight helped me find my faith life again.

Without Cross of Christ, I would not have tried anything like Dinner for Eight.  Without Dinner for Eight I would not be on the Church Council, as it took a member of our group to know me well enough to ask me to serve.  Without Church Council, I would never have discovered the Evangelism Team I am thrilled to be part of.

Without Dinner for Eight I would not be on the steering committee for Women, Wine and the Word - I would have been perfectly happy just being a participant.  Without Women Wine and the Word, I would never have pushed outside my comfort zone to attend New Beginnings Prison Ministries - not just once, but twice!

I now find myself seeking out faith building activities - reading daily devotions, attempting to read the Bible more frequently, attending services that don’t necessarily fall on a Sunday.  Helping as a cantor, participating as a lector, and organizing people to host fellowship.  Providing the occasional food for funerals, dinners for those homebound due to illness or injury, and making sandwiches for the homeless.

This faith journey is truly amazing...and a new season has just begun.

Habakkuk 1:5

Look at the nations and watch--

And be utterly amazed.

For I am going to do something in your days

that you would not believe,

Even if you were told...

My Dinner for Eight Group

 

And so it begins...

A few years ago my boss asked me to give an estimated retirement date, "for succession planning".  I was told it was not a hard and fast date, just an estimate, and it could be changed at any time.  In fact, they asked for an update every year after that first approximation.

I really wasn't sure what to say, so I asked my husband what he thought.  He came up with March, 2017, to correspond with the end of my company's fiscal year.  Well, that was actually a couple of years earlier than I had been thinking, but I figured, why not?

Now, surprise!  It is March, 2017 and I am retiring this week.

People ask, "What are you going to do when you retire?"

And I fumble with an answer, "Umm, whatever I want to?"

That time of life I looked forward to with such excitement is suddenly causing me unexpected anxiety...

What am I going to do with this next phase of my life?

I don't have a hobby I have been itching to spend more time on...

I am not like my friend Steve who is retiring early like me and looks forward to spending more time on some of his hobbies:  woodworking, refurbishing old cars, and puttering in the yard.

I am not like his wife Dena who already has a list of what she wants to do - despite the fact that she has nine more months to go.

I am not a master gardener like our friend Joyce who retired and started her own greenhouse.

I am a dabbler. 

I have scarves and dishtowels I was going to use for a pillow making project that are still sitting on a shelf in the storage room.  I have empty wine bottles, googley eyes, gauze, and paint I was going to use for a Halloween craft project - that I never found the time to do.  I have hundreds of pictures, decorative paper, and memorabilia to make a tribute scrapbook to our often missed pup, Ellie, who passed away almost two years ago. 

Everything still sitting in a box on a shelf. 

I dreamed of painting watercolors and bought paint, paper and brushes - as yet unused.  I once designed greeting cards - had the paper, stamps, and other doo-dads - but packed it all away when we moved from Minnesota to Colorado and never took it back out of the moving box. 

I have bins of "stuff" in a storage closet that needs to be gone through.

So, I did what I always do when I need an answer - I began researching what other people do to keep busy when they retire.

The best advise I saw was to look at those things you loved to do as a child, a teenager, a college student, a young adult.  What brought me joy?

Interesting...

When I was a young girl I learned to sew - and loved it.  I made many of my clothes when I was in high school.  Based on that insight, I think I will finish the pillow project when I retire.  I might try to make a quilt (maybe even go to the women's quilting group at church.)

I also liked to draw and paint as a young girl.  I used to copy those "Can you draw this?" pictures that were on the back of my mom's Reader's Digest.  I loved art class in Junior High but, regrettably, did not follow that interest into High School.  So, I think I will try my hand at water color again.  Or start sketching.  Maybe I'll find that box of greeting card supplies...

I always loved to write and saw myself in some sort of writing profession when I grew up.  Well, that never happened - but I did start a blog when I was laid up for a few months because of my burst appendix.  Maybe now is the time to get back to writing - even if it is only a blog that my friends and family read.  Or, maybe, I could try writing some articles for our church newsletter or website.  Heck, I could even take a writing class if I wanted.

I remember working in my mom's vegetable garden when I was young, and while I never liked the weeding, I did like the sense of accomplishment I got from helping.  And, I do like pretty flowers.  And, I like working outside.  So, I think updating our yard - as in, replace the dead flowers and bushes - will be a good retirement job for me to try.  (As I told my husband - trying things does not mean I have to be good at them!)

This is getting to be kind of fun...

I was always fascinated by my family history and wish I would have paid more attention to the stories my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles used to tell.  Maybe I will research a family tree? Or design a family recipe book, with recipes, stories and family photos provided by my cousins - similar to the one I made my daughter for her wedding.

I have never been a very athletic person, but I did like to run when I was in my early twenties.  I even ran track one year in Junior High.  I always wanted to run a 5K - but never committed to the training.  Now may be the perfect opportunity.

I also discovered hiking and long walks when we moved out to Colorado.  (Heck, I enjoyed walking our dog back in Minnesota  - same thing, right?)  I'd like to hike local trails - maybe one a week, maybe more - especially if I can get a hiking partner.  (Hint, hint to my hubby.)

I enjoy traveling - and that is something my husband and I already have on our mutual bucket list.

And, I haven't even mentioned trying yoga, cooking, baking, learning a language, learning to play an instrument, volunteering, reading, doing puzzles, trying pottery, spending time with family and friends, hosting parties, going to a film festival, learning to golf, taking bike rides, going on road trips and everything else I have not yet thought of...

Instead of stressing about what I will do to fill my time, I now wonder how I will ever have the time to do everything.

Wow - retirement just might be fun!

Making Sandwiches

Last week I helped make sandwiches for the homeless.

And I have to admit, I was unsure if I should go.  I was a little nervous. 

Would they accept me?  What if I did things wrong?  Where did I need to go?  What time?  Did I need to bring anything?  Was my help really needed?

Of course - no big surprise to anyone - all my fears were foolish.

Would they accept me?  Really? 

First of all - I was another set of helping hands.  The more hands, the more we were able to do in a shorter period of time.  This was not a closed club.  Everyone was there because they wanted to help. And, as it turns out, I knew many of the people helping - at least by sight if not by name.  And those I did not know, well, they were very welcoming and quick to introduce themselves and put me to work separating bananas and putting them in a box.

I had been told to arrive early as the "seniors" started Friday at 8am, on the dot, if not before. 

Contrary to what it sounded like, this was not exclusively a senior activity.  That was apparent from the moment I stepped through the church doors and into the kitchen / assembly area.  People of all ages were there to help.  Yes, there were some retirees who led the charge.  But, there were also men and women who just took time out of their busy work day to help.  Once we were done, they returned to their "day jobs" while the rest of us returned to whatever we had planned for the remainder of our day.  There were high school students, members of NHS, who were building their volunteer hours by helping.  And they not only helped make sandwiches, they accompanied the men who were driving the food to Denver to help hand out the meals. 

Everyone was there for a common cause and age did not matter. 

I was a newbie, as were a couple of the high school students and a few others - all of us different ages, backgrounds and interests - ready to work.

From what I was told, the third Friday of the month is one eagerly awaited by the "regulars" - the homeless men and women who are served lunch on a rotating basis by groups from the Denver metro out of the same location.  Our group not only provides sandwiches, but we also offer wraps, fruit, sweet treats like donuts, cakes, and cookies, along with coffee and lemonade.
 
In the cool months, we bring hot soup.

Some of the other groups just hand out sandwiches.

While I was very impressed by the camaraderie of those helping, what really struck me was the precision in which the meals are assembled.

Two tables were set up with blocks under the legs to make the height comfortable for assembling the sandwiches and wraps. 

The instructions are simple...

Stack two pieces of bread in rows six deep and fill the table.  (Crust ends face up so they are hidden inside the sandwich - that way no one can complain about getting the crust.)

Next a slice of meat, then a swipe of mustard, followed by a slice of cheese.

Stack three piles together, moving the bottom piece of bread to the top and you have three complete sandwiches.  Bag, set aside and someone transfers to waiting bins.

A similar process is done with tortillas for the wraps.

Keep going until we run out of sliced meat.

Based on the number of rounds completed per table, I would guess we made a total of four or five hundred sandwiches and wraps using this process in just under an hour.

While the sandwiches were being assembled, a couple of ladies were bagging day old donuts that had been donated by a local grocery store.  Lemonade and coffee were made by another set of helping hands.

When we were done, everything was loaded into two SUVs and taken downtown where the drivers, students and other volunteers set up tables outside the destination church and handed out the food.

A couple of the students who had helped before told me it was pretty amazing to be part of this simple outreach.  Assembling the food was good in of itself, but seeing what their efforts meant to so many people by helping serve was even more meaningful.

I gained a new appreciation for this group that works "under the radar" - just doing what they can to help others without any recognition.

I'm not even sure where the funding comes from.

I asked and was told some items are donated and other things "we" buy.  No one ever said who "we" are, but I hope there is a line item on a budget somewhere for this cause.

I know that giving someone a sandwich is not going to solve any world problems.  It is not going to help the homeless find jobs, find homes, or even find themselves.  But, it is in this simple act of kindness that we recognize the faces we feed as our own friends and family - our brothers and sisters - ourselves. 

I believe next month I will not only be making sandwiches, but I will be standing at a folding table with a container filled with food, near that urban church, handing out those same sandwiches to the people they were made for.

As Neil Armstrong once said, "One small step for man...one giant leap for mankind."

It may only be a sandwich, but it's a start...

Bunny Graveyard

The final meeting for the 2015/2016 season of the Women, Wine and Word group met at my house last spring.

It was a beautiful night, so we enjoyed our glasses of wine, food, and great conversation out on the patio.

As we were chatting, someone noticed a baby bunny cowering in one of the large, blue patio pots.  We had no idea how it got there - the pot stands over two feet tall.  And my husband had just watered them - a lot - prior to the start of our gathering.  There was no sign of a bunny then.

Fortunately, one of the women in our group sprang into action, grabbed the bunny by the skin on the back of his neck, and released it into the wild.  She said the bunny was big enough to live on its own and should be fine.  We gladly believed her.

Several of us spent a few minutes trying to figure out how the bunny got there - rabbits are known to burrow, someone volunteered - maybe the mom had burrowed a nest in the pot?  It didn't seem very likely, but that was better than any of our other thoughts.  (Maybe a hawk dropped it?  Maybe this little four inch bunny was really athletic and jumped up into the pot? Maybe it fell from the deck up above?)  Anyway, we dropped the subject and continued with our meeting. 

The following morning I was surveying the patio pots to decide how many plants I needed to buy when I saw another little bunny face buried in the dirt.  Oh no!  I had a dead bunny in the pot!  I guess we must have drowned it when we watered last night.  His sibling was fortunate to get out.

I wasn't ready to deal with the dead bunny yet - so I went plant shopping.

When I got home I grabbed my trowel and started to skim the dirt back to get at the dead bunny. 

But instead of one dead bunny, I found two.  And then three - four - five.  A bunny graveyard.

By this time I was using a shovel to transport dead bunnies and the nest remnants to the wild open space beyond the path behind our yard. 

For some reason, mother bunny thought this would be a good place to settle down and build a nest.  Whatever possessed her to jump that high in the random hope she would find a good place to burrow?  We will never know.

But, the bunny got me thinking.

Sometimes, like the mother, I have a tendency to jump into situations that may not seem to be the smartest but sure made sense in that moment.  And other times, I wait too long to make a decision and like the baby bunny have to rely on the goodness of strangers to rescue me.

We don't always think about the consequences of our actions.

I am generally a planner and thinker- carefully considering all my options before acting. This can be good and bad. Too much thinking may mean opportunity passes us by. Not enough thinking could put us in awkward or dangerous situations.

I am retiring soon and sometimes feel like I jumped into the proverbial blue pot without putting much thought into it.  I worry that I will be bored, unfocused, and end up a sad old lady.

So, I started my retirement bucket list and it is getting longer every day.

I am my mother's daughter and saw how organized she was - how every day had it's specific chores - but yet she always set aside time to do things she enjoyed.  She baked, she crocheted, she took walks - and still managed to run a household with dignity and grace.

I decided to follow the example of my mother and mother nature...do what I think is right, try new things, hope for the best, and believe someone will save me if I start to drown.

It is a big, exciting world out there.  Time for me to start exploring it...