choral soy and paint skiing

Mid June and I'm still settling into the pace of summer. So far it has been awesome...tons of time to see people...a good paying but low-stress job which I'm enjoying. Self declared hours and a slightly unscheduled but productive pace.

My beans have popped out their 5th trifoliate (almost all of them) and are getting ready to flower. In the next two days my prof and I are going to head to Champaign and visit the U of I to borrow some supplies (nets, beetle traps, and a photosynthesis machine more technical than Millikin's) and talk to the team over there that did some similar research a few years ago. In many ways I feel out of my league in a research field...especially since I don't plan on spending much of my life investing in this area. But there is something pretty cool about science in this area...that thousands of people are heading up different projects all over the world...publishing numerous articles which may or may not ever be read by someone who needs the information. But this data production over time builds up into a wealth of knowledge for the good of science as a whole. So much work over so many years...and still so much more to go, but it's progress. There's got to be a life lesson in there somewhere.

Since I'm not working regulated hours and my professor has been out of town a bit recently, I've also been helping dad out at the office. He is drowning in loose copies of old, new, and still-being-considered music, and has a familiar (to me) way of throwing things into organized piles and suddenly ending up with very unorganized mountains. We are sifting through it all enough so that he can move some furniture and get organized for the year...then eventually I'll be sent to the dungeon of the choral library to sort, organize, and re-find 35 years worth of choral repertoire...which seems to slip out of alignment despite the computer and call system designed to keep it in order.

The family has also been preparing for the evidently traumatic experience of painting the upper level in our house. While my father is quite handy and the family quite excited about the prospect, we are evidently allergic to the thought of changing that many features of our household. I keep trying to explain that the cool thing about paint is that it can be painted over...but no one seems to think that this is a good way to justify the Nike mantra, "just do it."

We have looked at every paint swatch and spectrum in every hardware store in town. We have studied rugs in warehouses, stores, and online galleries. We have debated wood or white trim and been seen moving long strips of baseboard to different parts of the house, setting them up in their proposed spaces and taking in the view. After 3 weeks of considerations and debate we have finally made a grand victory. We bought a rug. One rug. 30 square feet of wool and (scary movie music here) color. My mother tells me that this decision will catapult us into making the rest very quickly and that paint will be on the walls in a matter of days. My money is on a date in mid July...or sometime in November.

Don't let me fool you with all of my talk of progressive projects and hard work...there has been plenty of time for play the last few days as well. We have been out on the boat quite a bit recently...stretching out the old muscles and trying to get them used to the glorious strain of water sports. I learned to drop a ski the other night and actually slalom skied for a few minutes. Much fun and a good new challenge. I also grudgingly jumped in the water with a wake board for a few minutes, determined not to let my humiliation from last summer keep me from ever trying it again. My success was approximately the same as an elephant who tries to climb a palm tree, with phrases like "face plant" and "dead weight" being used frequently. Oh well...you can't say I didn't try.

Good chats with some friends of late, catching up on the past year and talking about the present struggles and future choices, responsibilities, fears, and anticipations. It's amazing to already be talking about grad school...to be having real conversations about where we will live, when we will marry, and where our careers may take us. We all pray to stay true to our God and to follow him fully. We all desire to respect our roots but learn to truly chart our own course. We already see that we will pursue this in drastically different ways. Our lives will not follow the same imprint, neither will our choices and values reflect the same priorities. It is scary to think that in 10 years we may even see choices made by people we grew up next to that somehow seem completely off base. We must continue to pray that God will give us grace to see beauty and value in this diversity, while also giving us the courage to stand up to the challenges and decisions he has placed in front of us individually.

Well, enough blabbing for now...I'm off to get ready for bible study tonight...perhaps I'll eat some choral soy on the way as well. Its pretty good for you I'm told.

Blessings~

Unpredictable

Greetings all.

I came up with a random copy of the first Caedmon’s Call CD a few days ago through my mom, my sister, and a yard sale. Old-school album from the good old days when the man, the legend Derek Webb wrote most of the tunes and Wayne Watson (random old friend of dad’s) was the executive producer. The music is very rough hewn…and the album an odd combination of 90’s radio classics, Webb tunes which I first heard in re-arranged forms, and unknown songs which might well become favorites over the next few days. I’m weird…when I get a new album it often becomes my only musical input for days at a time. It takes me that long to process the lyrics, analyze the music, and give the mood of the collection a rating. So far this one scores pretty high, but I’ll let you know about the final appraisal.

The Millikin internship is going very well…and by “very well” I mean it’s hardly going at all. My advisor took off for the Galapagos islands about a week and a half ago and has yet to return…and since soybeans only grow so fast, I’m finding myself doing a lot of checking, watering, and weeding…and not much else. As the summer progresses I will be much more caught up in working on nets, beetles, damage, and data collection. But for now, the “job” is really more like being CEO of a company whose building is still under construction.

I had hoped to be working at the hospital during these two weeks but the boss is not calling back and so I am accepting the break gratefully. I think God knew that I’d be needing this respite…indeed, the past week has been filled with more sleep than I thought that I’d ever need and even a bit of a head cold. Guess the old body was running a bit more “on empty” than I realized.

I’ve been using the extra time for some unpredictable yet necessary “life maintenance” tasks.

Oil changed (catching up with a “new” set of friends…all the old church buddies)

Washed and waxed (room finally cleaned and text books put on half.com)

Tires rotated (more attention given to family and friends than to schedule)

Brakes and tires checked (looking ahead to summer trips, budgeting, and grad school)

Gettin’ gassed up (planning and beginning new reading materials…some re-reads and a few newbies)

I also found, on a random trip to the Millikin computer lab the other day, that I had about 300 free pages left to print on my account. After wracking my brain for what to use them on I set out on a bit of a project to reformat and print all of my blogs to date. That’s right…Morglopedia is now in hard copy, and residing somewhere in the bookcase in my bedroom. Who knows…it might never be opened. But I realized the other day that too much of my life is stored in these writings to just throw them away or hope that they will always be accessible on the world wide web. Maybe I’ll want to read them when I’m 60. Maybe I’ll give them to the grandkids. Maybe the dog will chew them up. I don’t know, but the point is, now I have them. = )

In addition to the personal projects, the family has been quite busy this past week with company. My girls (Holly and Jill) from Millikin came into town to help mom with the Children’s Choir camp on campus this week. In the mornings, they herded 81 kids around campus, but in the afternoons and often too far into the evenings we enjoyed some great “play time.” We hit putt-putt, had several movie nights, went boating and introduced them to water sports, smoked cigars, watched stars, played games, and had some great conversations in the mix. All the activity promoted the building of friendships with some of the Riverside kids…I was thrilled to watch the two groups meld so easily. I have fabulous friends. The girls are gone now, which means we can walk through my basement again but also means I’m suddenly without two of my “sisters.” Bittersweet for sure.

I’m looking at 4 more days till my professor hits town again and so I’m hoping there will be a good amount of catching up with people again this week. The summer is pretty open really…and I’m interested to see where it will lead me. Already I find my brain pleasantly filled with thoughts and issues to sort through. Memories, strength, spirituality, friendship, personal motives, security, future plans, missions, pride, poverty…the list seems not to end. Let it be.

In the past few weeks I’ve been making scrapbooks for a couple of friends who are in transition periods at the moment…trying to draw together old pictures along with some scripture, quotes, and captions. I came across this quote, which has challenged me perhaps more than the kids I gave it to.

"Security is mostly superstition.
It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it.
Avoiding danger in the long run is no safer that outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing."

Helen Keller

It strikes me that security is really a longing which my heart may never realize. And then it strikes me that to be truly secure would be the worst thing in the world. Why would I want a complete guarantee that my life was “in the bag” regardless of my actions? Such a promise would stop me from pursuing, discourage me from learning, and eliminate the presence or need for motivation. What a blank life. What a scary abiss of an existence. Surely the God who made us…who sees us tempted, frustrated, scared, and out of control, understands this to be the only way that we will begin to look for Him. We cannot “find” him…we cannot secure complete understanding of His provision for his followers. But we can feel insecure. We can feel desperate. We can feel afraid. And this is what causes us to jump off a cliff, to follow the impossible, to keep asking questions, to continue to seek something much greater than our own lives. A “daring adventure,” then, is not a blind leap into oblivion for an adrenaline rush and a few bruises…it is a plea for something which puts the randomness of life into some perspective and shows us the way to live with purpose. Not security…not a blanket and a wad of cash…true freedom that comes from knowing we live accountable to a higher calling.

Life is unpredictable…but even for my fear of heights I’d rather have that cliff than a warm bed and a “security deposit.” Bring me that horizon…