Wednesday, June 15, 2005

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
Conversation concerning me between the journeyman I was working with and another construction worker:

Worker: "Oh, is that your helper?

Derrick: "Yep."

"Wow. I need to find myself a helper like that."

(Laughs) "You'll have to talk to your boss, then. She's my boss' daughter."

"Really? Well, I'd rather look at her all day than have to look at you."

Monday, June 13, 2005

It is the malady of living in a small town for the majority of your life: there multitudes of people you know, but then there are the mobs who think they know you. The younger generation of small town-ers usually fall into two groups; the ones who love the town, marry young, and stay for the rest of their lives, and then there are those who can't wait to "...shake the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and see the world.", in the words of George Bailey. I used to be the latter of the two. I shook the dust off my feet and went to school, rejoicing that I had 'gotten out'. I love my family, and have come back to visit them over breaks, but couldn't have really cared less to come back to the town and the people in it. This has been my general perspective for the past three years, as I have dreamt of bigger and better places to be.

Change seems to be coming with this summer break, though. I don't know that I can fully explain it yet, except to say that I think it comes from my perspective of life and people has changed. The accomplishments one can make in a larger area are undeniable. After all, isn't it the goal of any professional career, to get to the city where all the connections are and climb the ladder? However, isn't the larger picture fulfilling the Great Commission, our true calling as Christians, supposed to encompass every area of the world? Granted, I fully believe that the Great Commission is to be fulfilled through our everyday occupations and activities, but this annoyance or dislike that small town-phobiacs have of too many people knowing them is a sad perspective of an amazing opportunity. Individuals who feel that they know you, and visa-versa, are prime subjects for Christ to impact through you because they generally more available and willing to build relationships. Is this not how Christ impacted and converted those around Him?

I can't say that these feelings or perspectives are fully formulated yet. I also am not saying I am planning on living in a small town for the rest of my life. I have no idea what God is going to put in my path to do. Maybe I am saying, though, that small towns and the people in it don't seem so depressing and stifling anymore. Nothing is really as bad as it at first seems.
"Do you ever feel like a black tuxedo, except that you're the pair of brown shoes?"

---George Cobel, Johnny Carson Show, 1965.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Being a poor student and working my way through college has led me to employment that I would normally never consider otherwise. Though perhaps not the most glamorous, however, most of them have brought at least a good laugh or two. Today brought my next employment adventure on my journey to graduating with no loans. Those of you who know me definitely have my permission to laugh when you read this, but I promise you, every word is true.

This morning I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to work for my father as an electrician. Yes, you read it right: an electrician. Until today I had never done anything having to do with wiring besides turning GFI's and breakers, but my dad needed the help and I needed the money, so I took the job.

First order of the morning was going to the shop where we loaded the vans and I met the rest of the crew. They were friendly (what else would you be to the boss's daughter), but there were some definitely amused looks that were disguised in smiles and handshakes. My dad asked me if I felt out of place, and I told him of course, the reality of the situation is rather hilarious if you think about it.

I went with my dad to the first job, but there was nothing for me to do, so I sat in the van and beat the highest score on the racing game on my cell. On the way to our second job my mom called to make sure I was with my dad and not with some old electrician all by myself. At the next site I learned how to put in outlets, three way switches, and motion detector lights. Discovery 1: stuffing 3-6 wires in one little box is not as easy as it seems. Every outlet or light in your house is only there because some electrician abused their hands and stuffed rebellious wire into the box against it's will. Discovery 2: I am convinced that the people who design motion detectors do not ever assemble them; otherwise they would never dream of putting one together like they do. Discovery 3: why my dad came home every night with new scrapes and cuts on his hands. Electrical work is lethal to hands with a jungle of cutters, knives, sharp wires, drills, wood splinters, and who knows what else is at the job site. My hands lost their lady-like appearance in a matter of 15 minutes.

After swinging home for a bite of lunch, we went around the corner to help one of the crew trim out a house. More light switches, outlets, and three-ways. The contractor/owner of the house commented to my dad, "She's a real go-getter, isn't she?" Perhaps, but maybe 'poor' is a better description.

The day went by much quicker than I expected, and I haven't learned so much in one day since I've been home. I'm sure there will be plenty of amusing things awaiting me this summer as I become an electrician, or something to that affect. Stay tune. . .

Thursday, June 02, 2005

My sister and I just spent a glorious weekend in Victoria, BC, celebrating our birthday. I know I've posted about this before, but for those of you who are new to my blog, I say 'our' birthday not because we're twins, but because my birthday is the day after hers. We like each other so much that it never made sense to have our birthdays separately when we could have twice as much fun together. I suppose we are about as close as twins could be without being born on the same day, and everyone else seems to think so too.

Our hotel was the quaintest little ancient hotel we had ever seen, with a miniature kitchen, rounded ceiling edges, and wonderfully hideous orange chairs. We read a sign on the kitchen door that read: "We have recently added the convenience of coffee makers in the rooms. However, due to a shortage of electricity in the building, we ask that you not use the outlet for the coffee maker and the outlet on the stove at the same time as the fuse for the fridge will blow. Thank-you, and enjoy your stay." We wondered what might happen if we sat on the bed and talked at the same time. Maybe we would lose the air pressure in the room.

Downtown Victoria was home to our every whim and spontaneous feeling. Well, almost every one. Perhaps if we were not conscientious moral girls, it would have been home to every single one. We contended ourselves with boutiques, bookstores, coffee shops, art galleries, little pastry shop, long walks on the harbor, lounging about on the great lawn in front of the parliament building, and finding likely victims to take our pictures. We rationalized that the safest people to do this would be old people and parents with little kids. If the old person decided to take off with our camera, we could surely outrun them, and the parent wouldn't be likely to take our camera and leave their little kid.

The most wonderful part about spending the weekend with my sister is how much she make me laugh...constantly. The majority of looks we got from people (besides guys who were checking us out) was when we were laughing, even though it was most likely at nothing at all. I'm sure they all wished they knew us, so that they could laugh too. People don't laugh nearly as much as they should.