Week Three: What is Sleep Again?

I know a thing or two about sleep, and I’m not just speaking of the way I successfully got 8-9 hours of sleep each night pre-baby. I did, and it was glorious (and necessary). However, I also took a class in grad school on sleep: Sleep, Surrender, and Sabbath. I read Dr. William Dement’s book on sleep in its entirety, and I became an avid advocate for sleep amidst a sea of sleep-deprived friends and family.

I know sleep (but I will spare you all the lectures I have prepared for those who underestimate the power of sleep), which is why I know that it is completely normal for me to feel terribly and horribly out of sorts during this “what is sleep again?” phase of motherhood. Week three was so much better on many other counts- his nursing has gone from a D- the first week, to a C the second week, to a B+ the third week. Serious improvement.

However, the lack of sleep aspect of my new life becomes compounded as the days go by, resulting in an episode last Thursday evening during which I thought I might actually go crazy if I did not sleep more than 3 hours in a row- THAT NIGHT! So, I pumped and AJ fed Briggs with a bottle, and I slept SEVEN hours in a row. Now, perhaps only new moms will fully appreciate the significance of that statement. And again the next night, I slept nearly the same amount!

One might think this put me in mommy heaven. And it did, to a certain extent. I was much more productive in the days following, but as grateful as I was for those two 7-hour stints (which, I might remind you, is still less than I was sleeping PER NIGHT prior to baby), my “what is sleep again?” headache remains with me. The arithmetic of sleep during this period of my life reveals severe sleep deprivation. This, as I learned from Dr. Dement, is my sleep debt.

And let me tell you….I owe a BIG sleep debt to myself.

So the moral of my third week sleep story is this: Although I am sleeping for longer stretches after re-arranging my routine and attitude toward feeding Briggs vs. my personal need for sleep, I am still utterly and completely tired. Mostly all the time.

I love Briggs; I love holding him, whispering loving thoughts as I gaze at his beautiful face. I love being his mom. But I do NOT love the lack of sleep- and I don’t believe there is any need to sugar coat this aspect of motherhood, because sleep is important. This is what I know about myself: I am a better person when I sleep well, and no amount of loving affection will erase my physiological sleep debt.

So here’s to all the ways that poetic sayings like, “love makes us do crazy things,” and “it’s worth it in the end,” and “believe it or not, you will miss this phase” get new mothers through the “what is sleep again?” stage of parenting.

Make no mistake, poetic thoughts are nice (perhaps necessary for some) but the need to attend to my sleep debt deserves my full attention, and I will continue to take sleep as seriously as I learned in my grad school course.

Here's my poetic plea: Sleep, please come back soon, I miss you.

It (slowly) Gets Better

My last post was true, raw, and a bit disheartening to any expectant first-time mothers. Although I definitely don’t apologize for sharing my first week story, I am happy to share a somewhat different story from week two. It was better.

Home together all week, we had plenty of Mommy and Me time

First of all, my own health immediately improved after beginning the antibiotics for mastitis, my nipples healed, and after several exhausting days, Briggs finally learned to latch! Breastfeeding is one of those topics that I previously thought little about, other than, “well of course I will breastfeed my baby!” After all, my sister makes it look so easy, and the literature is ripe with the benefits, basically suggesting that new moms who have difficulty breastfeeding should never stop trying. What the literature largely lacks is the honest truth about the tedious, painful, and exhausting road some babies and mothers embark upon in order to reach the glorious “pleasant and enjoyable experience” of breastfeeding.

Ugh. It was NOT pleasant or enjoyable for me, even in week two. Especially when I contemplate that I spend AT LEAST 8 hours a day with Briggs at my breast, it makes sense that the amount of time people pour into full-time jobs was basically the amount of time I spent demoralized about our latching issues. Now shortly into week three, I am thrilled to say that we are getting the hang of it. So I say kudos to the breastfeeding experts who acknowledge that what may be natural is certainly not easy, or necessarily enjoyable. It’s hard work, perhaps harder work than I’ve encountered in quite awhile.

But on to the positive. My mother (who, by the way, helped out immensely my first week at home and is the reason AJ & I stayed sane) said my last post lacked anything positive, so here goes… Here are a few things that made week two better than week one:

1.       I could move around with less thought regarding stitches, pain, etc.

2.       I took a few walks that did not end with me out of breath after 5 minutes.

3.       I was able to discontinue my pain meds.

4.       I received more sleep (not enough sleep, simply more) than week one.

5.       I established a routine of sorts for when, where, and how to care for myself.

6.       I lost a considerable amount of weight- always a plus!

7.       My appetite improved, although so did my intake of junk food. Oops!

8.       I had more energy to put toward celebrating the beauty of Briggs’ creation with my husband.

9.       AJ & I went on our first date away from Briggs (Although I admit it felt weird).

I 0.    I spent a considerable amount of time staring into the eyes of the baby God gave us.

Week two was better.

And week three is off to an excellent start. Here’s to living into the words that many mothers have shared with me- it gets (slowly) better.

Thoughts on Being a New Mom

Briggs Allen Munger has arrived! And we are so grateful for his health, his dashingly handsome appearance, and his relatively generous sleep patterns. Born at 8 lbs 11oz and 20.5 inches long, he was born the exact average birth weight of his parents. He eats well, is rarely fussy, and is overall a really great baby.

Now on to motherhood. My reflections are in no way a scale of my love for Briggs, because I honestly couldn’t love him any more or less. He is my son, and when I let myself think about the implications of that statement, I am blown away with awe.

Still, being a new mom is dangerously difficult. I say dangerously in part because as a stable, privileged American mom with a great support network, I can actually say I understand the impetus behind mothers who commit tragic atrocities against their children in the throes of being new moms. I of course do not condone such actions, but I understand them now in a way my pre-baby self simply could not. If I think about my past week-and-a-half while simultaneously stripping away my support network, income privileges, education, sound mental health, environmental calm, etc., I am honestly not sure how I would have gotten through without dangerous thoughts.

I’m not attempting to be dramatic. Rather, I hope to draw attention to the moments of frustration—almost anger—I have recently experienced to highlight what often goes unsaid (by new mothers included) in the first weeks of being a mommy. First this- the congratulations are great, the words of encouragement appreciated, and the feel of a newborn in my arms is wonderful. But none of these override the exhaustion; the difficulty balancing care for self, infant care, and spousal inclusion; remembering to take meds; constantly second-guessing all the knowledge I so dutifully absorbed pre-baby; the fever, chills, light-headed feeling, and massive headache of mastitis; sore breasts (to the point of making showering a painful task); recovering from the bodily trauma of delivery, and trying to overlook all the housework that I so desperately wanted to complete.

If I were to think theoretically about this, I might say my experience confirms Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, in which an individual requires certain need thresholds be met in order to be motivated toward obtaining the next tier of needs. The foundational needs are as follows: food, sex, sleep, excretion, breathing, water, and homeostasis. I was meeting exactly three of the seven, although breathing was occasionally difficult, I needed to be reminded to eat, and despite the gallons of water I drank, I was slightly dehydrated for days.

And so my frustrations begin to make sense. I could not care adequately for myself, so the “joys of motherhood” that I so desperately wanted to experience eluded me. This is not to say that I didn’t have moments of joy, because I couldn’t help but discover joy in Briggs’ serene face after a feeding. He is truly remarkable, and it gives me pleasure holding him while he happily coos.

Even so, being a new mom is not romantic. It is not a time filled with rainbows and butterflies. It is a time when you fear pulling your stitches out maintaining basic bodily functions. It is a time when you lie awake at night, wondering if someone will pop into your room at 4am to take your blood pressure or ask what picture to use for the hospital birth announcement. It is a time your hormones overtake your body, causing you to cry when your husband reminds you to take your prenatal vitamin. It is a time when your nipples hurt so badly you think about ways to discipline your (innocent) newborn. It is a time that lasts for eternity, causing you to wonder if you will someday change out of your nursing nightgown? It is a time your body and mind are not quite in sync, and the process of aligning the two often turns into tears.

Perhaps new mothers have spoken about this dangerously difficult first few weeks and I have simply not listened. This is possible, because who wants to think their first week home with an adorable baby will be THAT difficult? Perhaps it’s not so difficult for every new mom, but I write this for myself, I write this for new moms who need to be validated in their experience, and I write this for the sake of truth-telling.

My first week of being a new mom was not awesome. There, I said it. Positive, happy-go-lucky Emily did not have a great week. Week two now, and I’m still in the throes of this experience, but I’m sleeping more, taking fewer meds, my stitched parts have healed, and I am more confident about how to handle various situations. Even so, Briggs and I are still working on his latching issues, I’m still fighting off mastitis, and those pesky hormones still arise to remind me of how well I cry.

I will save my moments of joy for another post. Rest assured I have them, and I’m becoming more confident that one day this whole mothering routine will suite me, but for now I’d like to keep this post focused on the difficult truth of my first week as a new mom- it wasn’t wonderful. Here’s to a better week two.

The Waiting Game

38 weeks, 4 days.

At 38 weeks I told AJ my pregnancy has really flown by! 4 days later, I'm rescinding that statement.

This is the waiting game, and in case you need a visual, this is what I look like right now, waiting in our recliner at home, hoping this baby lets me breathe soon enough.

For what am I waiting? The obvious:

• For our delightful little one to join us (much farther away from my lungs than he/she currently resides).
• For the beginning signs of labor, so I can finish packing my bag and start deep breathing.
• For an end to this journey of pregnancy, despite the respect I have for my changing body.
• For the opportunity to embark on this parenting adventure with AJ.

The less obvious:

• For motivation, for signs of Spring, for ways to keep my thoughts occupied.
• For my emotional roller coaster to take off, after a 9 month incline, down that anticipated hill of motherhood that will likely include plenty of waterworks, twists, and delight!
• For a more tangible sense of purpose to my life.
• For the chance to begin speaking words of kindness, encouragement, and love to our little one without the bodily barrier my belly presents!

Today my doctor hoped for me that the next time I saw her would be in the delivery room. I imagine I will see her in a week, at a regular check up. Of course the baby's in charge at this point, and I am totally okay waiting for his/her lead. It's just the uncertainty that makes this a waiting game like I've never experienced. A few days? A few weeks?

Only time will tell, so good thing I have plenty of that on my hands these days!

Full Term

This weekend marked the significant moment in pregnancy when mothers let out a sigh of relief. Full Term. Those words are so comforting, as I reflect on the occasional moments of anxiety over the health of our little one throughout the past nine months. Although in many ways I would consider myself to be quite calm as a pregnant woman, the potential health risks for baby and mom during a pregnancy are enough to cause slight anxiety, much of which has quickly dissipated as my due date draws near.

My goals the past month or so (being without full-time work) have included preparing the nursery, which is now complete! My mother came a few weeks ago to paint the walls, the dresser, the changing table, and she even gave me the rocker she used with her four children (including me) :) I'm blessed to have such support during this phase, because preparations such as these release any fear and enable me to simply enjoy the excitement of seeing our little one in the crib soon!

 my sister Leslie gave me the decor from my nieces' nursery, the furniture is from my childhood, and the rocker is from my infancy.

 The crib is one of the few baby items I have purchases new thus far, and I love it (but I have to say, the assembly directions weren't my forte- AJ handled most of it).

This diaper cake was created by my sister Alison for the wonderful shower my sisters and mom threw for me! I'm thankful for family and friends to celebrate with!

My list of needed baby items is growing much smaller. I am the "prepared girl scout" type (without ever actually having been a girl scout), so I have checked multiple lists of necessary baby items to ensure that I have my bases covered. Never mind we have stores in close proximity that carry everything I need.... :)   Nursery, done. Freezer meals, cooked. Diaper bag, packed. Towel and garbage bag near the bed, check (I can't quite bring myself to sleep on a garbage bag just yet, but my prepared self says better safe than buying a new mattress). Hospital bags, ready to go!

Today I will practice putting in the car seat, sterilize all the plastic baby gear, and clean. I will likely run a pretty tight ship around here until the baby comes, due to my love of coming home to a clean house (regardless of where I've been).

And so the waiting continues- sometimes I think this baby wants out soon- other times (probably when he/she is sleeping) I feel as if I will never have the baby. Thankfully I am not anxious- only excited. And since I preached my final sermon for awhile yesterday, I have only to hope the baby doesn't come tomorrow on my drive to Chamberlain for an ordination hearing. From the 19th on, little one, you are welcome into this world!

7 months of....plenty.

Let me say this- after 7 months of not blogging, I realized that I miss it. And yet I have complete grace for myself for not blogging these past several months....here's why:

1. I've been pregnant (complete with 2.5 months of morning sickness)
2. I created curriculum for and taught 2 college courses
3. I maintained an invigorating full-time gig helping students succeed at Presentation College
4. I wrote liturgy and sermons for 10 Sunday mornings & one funeral
5. I organized a new home & accumulated baby things, quite inexpensively (therefore, tediously).
6. I maintained status as a member in discernment for ordination
7. I completed an online UCC polity and history course (and wrote a 24 pg. ordination paper)
8. I cooked, cleaned, maintained a garden, did laundry, hosted family and friends, invited a youth group into our home for two over-nights, and tried my best to be a good wife, friend, family member, and neighbor. In other words- I lived.

I am aware that each of those statements began with "I." This I recognize as the main reason for not finding time to blog- I felt overwhelmed with life. And when life overwhelms, I get self-focused.

Not intentionally, of course...it just happens.

So here I am- 36 weeks pregnant,  and I blog once again.  This is indeed a time of transition for me, a time to ask, "where do I go from here?"

The question I pose is mostly answered for me- I become a parent. That's the main answer. AJ & I invite a forever change into our lifestyle. We embark from the world of couples to engage the world of families. And we are excited.

Even so, many unknowns are still present in my life. Regarding ordination and ministry prospects, details are uncertain. I hope to maintain a part-time ministry position after maternity leave, but I must simply wait for tedious processes to unfold, praying that what is best for our family is also best for the church. And I felt a form of uncertainty when resigning from my position at Presentation College. No longer counting on 2 incomes, AJ & I find ourselves asking financially, where do we go from here? In an interesting twist of events- I began paying on my student loans the same month I resigned my full-time position.  Oh yes, what a strange and crazy question it is to ask each day, each week: where do I go from here?

And so I blog again, reminding myself and others that although life is uncertain, it's the search for answers that makes it worthwhile.  Here's to keeping the question alive...

From little bump to big bump

This is the Life...

Life at the Lake. In Pictures.

Here's to making up for a few weeks of slacking on the updates....

An evening fire and full moon. Ahhhh.

AJ performing a tricky maneuver with the moon

Me being just as tricky!

Fishing at the Missouri River on the 4th of July with AJ & his dad

My view as I watched for the pole to "start jumping around" (it was usually snags)

My nephew posing for the best advertisement Eagle Pass Ranch has seen!

JJ sure loves his boat, which he adored both on land and in the water

My sister, nephew, and I cruising in our awesome boat!

"This is the life." I'm pretty sure he said those words as he closed his eyes and smirked.

Covering himself with sand, with the help of Uncle AJ

Two cheeses are better than one!

I asked JJ to pose by my flowers- he liked the door better.

Finally, our first peas I picked from the garden tonight- will become a snack for me at work tomorrow! Also, the impetus for this blog post, since AJ remarked "you better blog about them. You've been slacking."

I am beginning my fourth week as the Academic Support Specialist at Presentation College tomorrow, and as I was reflecting this evening with AJ on a walk around the lake, I realized that I am in a good place... a good job, a lovely house, a wonderful family, a husband who loves me every day, a bountiful garden, friendly neighbors and co-workers, and weather that reminds me of God's presence. Today I am grateful, and tomorrow I will renew my sense of appreciation, for gratitude truly satisfies the soul.

welcometoemily'sworld

I have changed.

whereDON'Tigofromhere.

A taste of true peace.

I couldn't decide...

How do I say it? What words are best to describe this feeling? This energy and focus. The desire to smile/cry/laugh/smile/cry. A sense that work is meaningful but not overwhelming. The experience of knowing, in some crazy miracle way, that I am right where the universe aligns.

How's that for a change from my first blog post?

I have changed. In three short weeks, and with the assistance of dozens of friendships renewed on a fulfilling Midwest road trip, I am different. I feel it deep within. I sense a stirring of passion, a calming of spirit, an ease of being. I live for these moments in time- and it is an incredibly difficult phenomenon to describe.

Here is what I can say. After a long while away from the rural small town life, I moved back to South Dakota as a skeptic. I was pretty uncertain that I would find my life to be as fulfilling and exciting as in NJ. I imagined South Dakota as a stagnant land, not unlike a wax figurine of rural life. And while I was grieving the loss of my New Jersey life, things actually looked a little waxy.

But the sure and constant winds of the Spirit (occasionally referred to as typical South Dakota weather) moved me. I am different. I enjoy the friendly atmosphere, the waves from passing travelers on the lonely highway. In fact, I smiled at EVERYONE in the grocery store today, including the three folks I almost ran into with my cart, and they smiled back!

And the truest way I can express this feeling is to say, "Welcome to Emily's World." This is the world in which I yearn to be. This world, a magical place in which I would find myself as a child twirling in the grass rather than fielding my sibling's baseballs, this world is a place where everything aligns, where everyone matters, where the highest priority is enjoying the moment.

Everything is not perfect in Emily's World.

But it is right. It is good. It is peaceful. It is happy. And I might even say, it is holy.

Rummage Sales, Auctions, and Creativity

I have 11 days before a full-time job. 11 days to be organized and creative with my time.

And in these 11 days I will be doing a bit of traveling, and preaching, sort of like an itinerant pastor. Just kidding (bad seminary joke).

If you know me, you understand my style depends on whim, circumstance, availability of materials, and a little bit of crazy creativity. But mostly whim. I enjoy beauty, but I'm not going to pay very much for it. I enjoy creating things, particularly if the materials came from, oh, I don't know, RUMMAGE SALES AND AUCTIONS. Yep. That's this post. I will be bragging about the awesome deals (which, according to AJ, is a subjective concept) I made at rummage sales and an auction.

I went to my first estate auction last Saturday, and let me tell you....I'm SOLD! I loved every minute of it. My heart racing as I bid on my first plant stands. Speculating about the worth of every item. Selecting a number I'd reach and bid no higher. Bidding up items that only one person wanted. Being the woman the auctioneer looked at to take baby items for $1.00 (nope, still not pregnant). :)  The entire experience was SO much fun.

Without further ado...here are a few of the items I (ahem, we) bought!

Six REALLY sturdy chairs I will be refinishing to match AJ's table!

Delightful lamps that no one else wanted. SOLD!

What I THOUGHT I was getting (to make pillows) off the Christmas trailer

What I ACTUALLY got for $7.50- score!!!

Also I didn't take a picture of the 20+ planters I (accidentally) got for $2.50. Turns out sometimes no one will bid higher than you- and you "get to take it home." :)  Those planters are already serving a purpose as homes for the lonely tomato plants that didn't make the garden cut.

Hmmm- oh yes, I have more... A few weekends ago, AJ and I went to a garage sale near our house, and we scored a nice picnic table, wheelbarrow, two saw horses, a cart on wheels for our shop, a shovel, and a cabinet...and the best part? I lumped them all together and said to the couple, "Okay, we are interested in many things, and I know you are interested in getting rid of them, so are you willing to make a deal?" Ha! They sort of chuckled (I guess I don't look the type) and we haggled a bit (only me, AJ felt badly because they were an older couple), and I got the items for $31 off their asking prices! (oh, in case you're starting to feel badly for the couple too, they definitely had a few things overpriced).

And to complete this post on style, I thought I'd share a few more photos of my house decor taking shape (utilizing my practicality and whim)...

A few fun additions to the kitchen- I love homemade pottery and flowers

I can't seem to decide on one centerpiece, so I keep adding to the collection! 

I thought, if I keep these books front and center, I might actually use them. It's a whim, yes.

Displaying bouquets from my wedding-six in one room MAY be a little overkill.

I like it. Period.

My newest creation, sewn from a piece of $1 fabric from a rummage sale. 

Thanks is due to my mother, who taught me how to sew, entered me in a contest in 9th grade in which I won a sewing machine, and led the 4-H club that allowed me to hone my skills. :)

My next few projects include- sewing pillows with the (unending) fabric from this $1 piece of purple. Refinishing the dining table chairs, spray painting the cabinet for our bathroom, and organizing our paperwork... Don't worry, I won't take photos of the paperwork. I'm not THAT enthused about organizing.

All for now- on to take fingerprints for my MSW license- the final step!

Growth in Waiting

Waiting is hard.

A week ago I began this blog in a period of waiting. Only six days have passed, actually, since I announced that I have no idea where I go from here.

I spent six whole days waiting for understanding, for direction, for peace. Waiting for connection, for purpose, for wholeness.

So it seems appropriate on this forum to announce that plenty can happen in six days. Six days of waiting can produce multiple job prospects, fantastic laughter, creative moments, meaningful tears, awesome deals at an estate auction (another post in its own right), and a significant amount of introspection.

I am well aware that people wait months, years, sometimes indefinitely for direction. That is a long time. As a devout  planner, however, I contend that 6 days feels longer than necessary.

Waiting is hard. In the midst of the foggy uncertainty, however, the Spirit is at work. The Spirit of Truth whispers, "God has created you for meaningful work." The Spirit of Patience affirms, "God knows you are a planner, and God is too." The Spirit of Joy proclaims, "God created human companions for love and laughter, enjoy them." This is the Spirit in which I move and have my being. This is the Spirit of Growth.  The Spirit moves in the midst of our waiting, despite our impatience, according to our need. 

And I believe in the Spirit because I see the Creator's work all around...

Strawberries fashioned in patience, preparing for their ultimate fulfillment

Onions sprouting boldly above surface, while hard at work  establishing roots

Lilies growing again after the torment of bulb separation

The emergence of bean sprouts, a tiny promise of significant harvest

A reminder of the thinning process that allows other zucchini to prosper (don't worry, I replanted this little guy)

God's promises of growth, change, and harvest are plentiful this Spring.

And so it is with gratefulness in my heart for your presence during my (emotionally charged, but realistically short) wait, that I announce my new employment as the Academic Support Specialist at Presentation College, Aberdeen, SD.  As of June 17th, 2013, I will leave a period of waiting to embrace a new journey in the world of employment!

To what adventures will my new employment lead?  Time will tell (and so will I....stay tuned!)

Writing, Providence, and Luck

I wrote a sermon today.

I didn't entirely set out to write one today, but it happened. I started reading Scripture, talking (to myself), typing, more reading, then presto! Sermon material. I suppose that's the way the Word of God speaks. In unexpected ways.

My life these past 24 hours has been most unexpected. I am bursting at the seams to share more, but I have a lot of discernment ahead of me, and this is my desperate attempt to rein in my over-sharing nature. By hinting without substance.

Sorry for that. I know it's pretty annoying to get a partial story.

In any case, I can fully share my pleasure in knowing so many of my friends and family are rooting for me. I am confident in your confidence, encouraged by your enthusiasm, grateful for your presence in my life.

Here's to wondering how in life I got so darn lucky.

Dandelions, among other things.

I think maybe my niece was right.

Dandelions are pretty. True, their leaves are a little spiky, and the stems grow too tall for the blossom, and when they die they look really sad. But dandelions are more colorful than grass- and somehow we've classified them as weeds.

So my question is- who gets to decide what is a weed and what is a flower? It reminds me of a parable told by Jesus about the weeds and the wheat. The person in charge says that both must grow together, lest the wheat be pulled up while uprooting the weeds.

Maybe I need to take a more biblical approach to lawn maintenance.

Or maybe I'm over-thinking dandelions.

I might need a job.

As I was going for a run today, contemplating my direction in life, it occurred to me that I live by a lake and haven't even mentioned its beauty in my blog. The lake is beautiful any time of day. Here are my favorite moments by the lake two weeks into my life here....

Taking our first boat ride as a couple, trying to convince ourselves this is real life.

An evening around my neighbors' fire pit, watching the moon glisten in the tiny wake at the center of the lake.

On a windy day, a comment AJ made about the lake reminding him of the ocean, which reminded me of NJ.

Running alongside the lake, appreciating the ever-present nature of the water.

Waking up in the mornings and sharing a cup of coffee with my husband while looking at the gentle majesty of water lapping against the shore.

These are the moments I must treasure. These are moments of assurance that despite all my intellectual ambivalence about transitions, I am in the right place. And from this place, I will go to many other right places along the way.

                                                           Weed or flower?

These moments I treasure

I Pulled Some Weeds

Yesterday I got down and dirty.

I pulled some weeds. I only marginally enjoyed it, being dirty isn't my top priority. Unlike my three year-old niece who picked a bouquet of dandelions for her grandma this weekend, I did experience a certain satisfaction with digging up the roots and watching them wither. I'm 100% adult.

It's also quite possible I pulled up the roots of some healthy (unidentified) plants.

So it got me thinking about roots, and growth, and transitions.

Here I am in SD, putting down roots (for example, yesterday I planted lettuce, spinach, basil, cilantro, rosemary, and day lilies).  I'm trying to put down roots of other sorts as well. We've started attending Plymouth Congregational Church in town, and I have been happy with the familiar liturgy and the friendly welcome. The female pastor has given refreshing sermons that resonate with my theological leanings, and they are thrilled to have a young couple in attendance (our youthful glow helps increase our popularity a midst a relatively aging congregation) :)

And I have felt the Spirit move within our marriage while worshiping at Plymouth Congregational.

Someone once asked me how I go about selecting which church to attend, and I recall giving some formal response about the possibility of ordination (as a woman, as a choosy theologian, etc.). Yet I sense that the real criteria I use has something to do with how loudly we sing the songs, the tone of our conversation after worship, and how easy it is to pray together. I know that our marriage thrives in the movement of the Spirit, and the conversations we have after attending Plymouth Congregational are full of love and compassion and dedication. We are prompted to pray with openness and honesty. And when we're belting out those hymns, people turn in their pews to see who it is!

So I suppose we are growing roots within our new community a little at a time, but the major work we are doing is regenerating the roots of our marriage. After 4 months apart, we are settling into the soil of Mina, SD. We are refreshed by the spring rain of love and laughter. We are fertilized by worship and prayer. I am rejuvenated by the sunshine I feel while holding his hand. We are sustained by the daily routine of simply being together.

Oh- and I woke up this morning to the sound of chirping birds... and actually got out of bed!

I will end this post by stating that the man who holds my hand (and my heart, and my financial security at the moment) and I have decided that rather than taking a trip to celebrate our 3rd anniversary next week, we are going to take a boat ride on our very own lake. I suppose it may have something to do with this elusive "putting down roots" way of living.

So where do I go from here? Today I drive into Aberdeen to have lunch with my husband. The tastiest way I know to lay down roots.

                                      My New Look- perhaps another indication of transition

WHERE I GO FROM HERE

I am a curious person by nature. And a planner.
I love to recognize and know where God is at work in my life.
My life has always been lived in careful planning with a good dose of seizing unexpected opportunities.

Until now. Although I'd like to believe I'm still seizing unexpected opportunities- I do NOT have a plan.

Where do I go from here?

I am starting a new blog because I sense that the act of blogging brings some sort of clarify to my life, and hopefully it also brings a sense of uniting with friends near and far.

So here I am- living on a lake in Mina, SD with my dear husband. I have officially graduated from Rutgers with my Master of Social Work, from Princeton with my Master of Divinity. And I am unemployed.

Yes, I realize it's only been a few weeks.
Yes, I know my husband is wonderful and willing to provide for me while I search.
Yes, I know I am capable and bright.
Yes, I know that I have much to offer the Aberdeen area.

All of these affirmations are great, and necessary. But I must express that this is the first time IN MY LIFE that I don't have a clear direction. In August I will be 28, which means for the last 27 years I have always know the direction of my life- at least several months in advance.  But now I don't. And it's scary, exciting, terrible, freeing, and confining all at once.

And if I'm honest with you and myself, it can be difficult to get out of bed in the mornings.

So I ask from the deepest parts of my being- Where Do I Go From Here?

I have left a home in New Jersey that I miss terribly. My friends and church family in NJ have shaped me and challenged me and supported me and delighted in me. I miss them with all my heart (and tears).

And I have moved to Mina Lake, SD, an unfamiliar place with many friendly people. I know life is to be had in abundance here, but I recognize that I am still grieving New Jersey.

Of course everyone from SD expects me to be delighted upon return. But that word delighted suggests that I was eager to leave NJ. Not at all. Not me. I was eager to be with my husband, eager to live in our first house together, eager to make new friends and become reacquainted with old ones. But eager to leave NJ? Absolutely not.

So I find myself living into another wacky transition, a common experience within the last 10 years of my life. I moved from the invigorating, yet homogeneous community of Orange City, IA to the Pine Ridge Reservation, where I learned the feeling of being a minority and the love of my Lakota friends. From Pine Ridge I transitioned into one of the richest towns in America- Princeton, NJ. From Princeton we moved to Newark, NJ- one of the poorest neighborhoods in America. Then a brief and strange stint away from AJ in Highland Park, NJ....now to Mina Lake, SD- where neighbors are friendly and everyone looks just like me.

So Where Do I Go From Here?

Perhaps the answer to that question is really an antithetical response- Rather than going somewhere, maybe I need to stay for awhile. Put down roots. (Grow a garden, invite new friends to sip lemonade beside the lake, become reacquainted with family).

So where do I go? Today my answer will be- I will go outside and pull some weeds. That's where I will go.

                                                   A spider plant, the offspring of my mother's
                                                   spider plant wedding gift 35 years ago.