LadyBurg

Dr. Burg's Graduation

Dr. Burg graduated last Saturday.  He was officially made Dr. on August 31st so I thought the graduation ceremony would be a bit anti-climatic.  I mean, I had already thrown a surprise graduation party.  You can't get much better than that!  I figured we had done our celebrating. 

But the day was perfect.  It was 77 degrees with a slight breeze in the City with the White House.  The graduation ceremony was outside on the steps of the Basilica.  We arrived in just enough time to pick up his doctoral robe - the big billowy kind with three velvet stripes on each arm.  His hat was velvet with six sides rather than four.  As I watched him put on the robe, I knew we needed this day.  We needed to celebrate once again. 

Originally Dr. Burg's parents were supposed to join us but his dad had a mandatory heart cath just days before the ceremony (he's fine) so I was the only one there to witness the occasion.  The graduates processed with the doctoral students at the end, right before the faculty in their elegant multi-colored doctoral robes.  I stationed myself along the walkway and took picture after picture, feeling a bit like the paparazzi. 

After all the bachelors and masters students were recognized (by asking each department to stand), the doctoral students were invited to join the faculty on the stairs of the basilica.  I, wanting to get a good picture, marched myself to the front of the gathering and stood ready to capture Dr. Burgs moment in the sun.  When the called his name, I pumped my fist in a very lady-like way and snapped a picture.  Funny enough, Dr. Burg was standing only feet from the Archbishop of DC. 



After the school's graduation and the department's graduation, we spent time taking pictures of ourselves. I didn't want him to take off the robe until it was well documented.  As we tried to get the perfect self-portrait, random people would walk by and offer to take our picture.  Others walked by and said, "congratulations." 

It was a perfect day.  I was so proud.  I cried a bit and at moments thought they should hand me a diploma as well - not only because I paid for it but because I too had endured its pain.  I firmly believe a PhD is primarily about endurance.  I will never earn my own because I do not have the determination.  I do not have the will-power.  I have watched my Dr. Burg do it and that is more than enough for me.

Gymsanity

• I'm not sure if I've mentioned that my trainer left me.  OK, it wasn't me personally.  He moved to another town for another job.  As far as I know, it was nothing personal.  I have not picked up a new trainer.  I figure I have enough of a repertoire for now.  Maybe I'll find a new trainer in the fall or when the things I'm doing stop working.  I'll wait for the inevitable plateau. 

• Longer locks mean sweat now drips and swings off my hair.  Very cute.  I swear I sweat like a guy.  Nothing delicate about me at the gym.

• I've taken up running again.  I'm still a treadmill runner in order to protect my legs from shin splints.  There is just nothing better than running.  It provides quick results, a great sweat, and a runner's high.  I'm not sure why I occasionally give it up.   
  

• I bought new running shoes over the weekend.  I wore them yesterday and although they felt great, I managed to rub huge blisters on the arches of both feet.  I stopped mid-run to put band aids over the blisters but the band aids did not seem to help.  The blisters were twice the size another mile later.  After giving up on the run, one of the trainers came over and helped me tape my feet so I could move around the gym without hobbling.  Sadly enough, he then had to write up an incident report as if my new shoes were somehow the gym's fault.  The blisters are a tad better today but one has not popped and may rule out a run tomorrow.  Looks like I'll be on the evil stair climber tomorrow morning.  Dangit. 
  

Tips, Musings, and Thoughts from LadyBurg

Tips:

1. Never eat more than 5 dried apricots.  As my friend, Presbyfruit says, "don't be lured in by their fruity goodness."  They will bite you in the ---, literally.
2. When you see that fine green film on your car, begin taking your allergy medicine.  Don't be fooled into thinking that you have outgrown your allergies.  You probably haven't.  They'll still get you. 

Musings:

1. My hair is falling out.  Nothing is wrong, its just longer.  Longer hair seems to fall out or break off more often.  Maybe its just that I didn't notice my short little hairs when they plummeted from my head.  Now, there is hair on the drain - something I find disgusting, even when it is my hair.  All this hair is due to the fact that I have not had a haircut in over 4 months.  For one who used to cut her hair ever 6 weeks, this is astounding.  It now touches the back of my neck and takes a good deal longer to dry.  I decided I wanted to look more girlie, so I'm growing out my hair.  Problem is, I have no goal.  I have no idea how long I'm going or what I intend it to look like.  Maybe I'll know when I get there.  I kinda hope so. 
2. When did I become so addicted to coffee?  My current favorite - Skinny Vanilla Latte from Starbucks.  It can be iced or hot.  I don't care.  I love them both.  A Starbucks opened a mere two blocks from my office.  It's the kiss of death to my pocket book. 

Thoughts:

1. I'm coming cleaning.  I'm really excited about Obama!  I'm ready for them to wrap this up and move onto the big show down. 
2. I love the person who invented Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches.  I'd kiss them if I could find them.  They are responsible for bringing ice cream back into my life.  I had missed it so very much. 
3. May has been finicky this year.  Its cold and rainy again. 
4. My garden is lovely and doesn't seem to need much attention.  I'm not really sure how I feel about that. 

Yesterday was Pentecost Sunday, Mother's Day, Bread for the World Offering of Letters, the 2nd week in our local camp's Capital Campaign, Communion and to top it all off, Youth Sunday.  Yes, that's right, I had the privilage of coordinating the single busiest day of the year.  It was chaos and fantastic fun. 

Each year, I tell the seniors, who are responsible for planning the service, that they can be as creative as they'd like with the service.  I tell them I will help make almost anything happen.  Every year, they plan a lovely service that looks much like any other Sunday morning with the exception of a few upbeat praise like songs. 

This year, the seniors took me up on the offer.  I sat with one of them for three hours in a coffee shop dreaming and scheming.  We finally structured the service around seven words - Welcome, Confess, Forgive, Learn, Offer, Nourish, and Bless.  Our regular bulletin was scrapped.  Each section was labeled with one of the 7 words that a 9th graders designed on her computer (see "Bless" above).  One of the seniors created 7 large boxes that illustrated the words.  These were used to build and then tear down the service.  As the youth and then the congregation confessed their sins, the "Confess" box was placed on the stack.  As we heard the words of forgiveness, the "Forgive" box was stacked upon the others.  Slowly the service took shape.  Two seniors preached.  The youth served communion.  The music was fun but not cheesy.  The youth pulled off the whole service with grace.  They did not look nervous and they were where they needed to be when they needed to be there. 

I often think Youth Sunday is like putting on a huge stage production.  It takes me hours to figure out the choreography - the microphones, the transitions, the movement, the verbal cues.  As each youth arrives on Youth Sunday, I hand them a bulletin filled with instructions.  "Mark, Lisa, and Sarah go up to the chancel during the passing of the peace.   Kate, Susan, and Tim come down from the chancel and sit in the congregation....and so on."   Rehearsal is noisy chaos and the service, beautiful.  I love it.  I love every single part of it  - except saying good-bye to the seniors.   

This year, I said good-bye to these two.  They were in 5th grade when I arrived at Our Big Steeple.  They attended youth group as 5th graders because their mother's often helped out.  For me, this is an end of an era.  Those that were youth when I arrived are now gone.  I have officially been here a long time.  Its been fun to watch them all grow up but I gotta tell you, I'm going to miss them.  And yes, I cried as I said good-bye and then asked a blessing on them. 

One of the missing 6

This past Saturday, we held a memorial service for a 96 year old beloved pillar of the church.  She was a remarkable lady that had left us detailed instructions for her service so the service was lovely and perfectly captured her spirit. 

At the end of the service, an older usually cranky gentleman came up to me.  He said, "I don't know the significance of this but I have a feeling I should give it to you."  I held out my hand in which he dropped a tiny robin egg colored jelly belly.  I burst out laughing (right at the end of the memorial service, mind you) and asked where he'd found it.  He said he had seen it while sitting in his pew.  It was perched on the decorative side panels near his seat.  He couldn't imagine what it was or how it got there but figured it should be retrieved and handed to me.  (By this, I'm guessing he assumed that only something as absurd as a jelly bean in the lattice work of our sanctuary could be attributed to your's truly.)

I told him the story and declared that he had found one of the missing 6.  This actually got a hearty belly laugh out of the cranky gentleman.  I declared with much enthusiasm that he had made my day and week, which gave him a bigger laugh. 

I now have the once lost and now found jelly bean sitting on my desk.  Its too dirty to eat and too precious to throw away.  I'm not sure what I'll do with it but I keep hoping the other 5 will turn up and eventually join this bean on my desk.  It would make for 5 more odd tails of jelly beans. 

The National

One of the advantages of being an indie rock/pop fan is the fact that such bands often play in small venues.  One of our favorite bands, The National, will be at a local college tonight.  The tickets were a mere $15.00 so despite that fact that I must be at work bright and early tomorrow, Dr. Burg and I are heading across town for what promises to be a great concert.  It is the same venue in which we saw The Decemberists just a little over a year ago.  Feist was there this past Fall, but I missed her (a fact, I still regret). 

This college venue is small.  Dr. Burg will likely stand near the stage.  I, due to my small stature, will probably sit in the bleachers but will have a fantastic view and will certainly be able to hear (as if that were ever a concern at a concert). 

I'm currently baking Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cinnamon cookies to take to the neighbor's party.  Once we've partied and eaten our fill, we'll head out to our concert feeling all giddy like kids.  Of course, we'll be older than most of those in attendance but I keep hoping I get a few cool points for even knowing The National.  Then again, maybe we are just old people that like young people music.  Nope, I'm not willing to go there.  I'm sticking with hip!

For your enjoyment, here's a video and a link to their myspace site with tons of great music.  Enjoy!

Alternative thoughts

Funny - yesterday's post made me miss you.  I've found myself bouncing around the blog world this evening.  Not necessarily commenting, but checking in on you.  I'm glad you all are still out there thinking and writing and loving and blogging. 
_____________

We had our alternative worship conversation last night at the corner Starbucks in downtown Burg.  We chatted about worship over lattes and iced coffee.  I typed as they talked.  My fingers never stopped flying our the keyboard, recording ideas and hopes and dreams.  It was exhilarating and terrifying.  Part of me felt as if it were soring.  It was the part that has been dreaming this dream, that has envisioned something different, that has yearned to worship in a new way.  The other part of me felt crushed - crushed by the hopes I can never fulfill or live into.   The hopes sat heavy on my chest.  There is so much seeking, so many desires, such yearning. 

So today I did the most absurd thing with those hopes - I wrote a report.  I wrote the report that will go to the Coordinating Cabinet (the chairs of all the committees) and then to the Session (our governing body).  I tried to put language to emotion and desire and cravings.  I failed miserably but its what I must do - put words to that which cannot be spoken. 

Now I must pray that the Coordinating Cabinet and the Session can see past my failing vocabulary to the dreams.  I pray they can see the spirit behind the words.  I pray they hear the hearts of the young people who yearn for God.  I pray the words don't get in the way.  And most of all I hope and pray that sometime in the next few months, I hear these simple powerful words - "Go ahead.  Give it a try." 

I'm here - might be back - might not

I've received two lovely notes asking what in the world has happened to me.  I've been an every day blogger for over a year now and all of a sudden, I dropped off the blogging radar for 17 days.  I'm sorry.  I'm not sure what happened.  Thanks for noticing and thanks for asking. 

As one of you suggested, maybe I was taking a blogging sabbatical.  I couldn't find the energy or the words to write.  I've thought "that will blog" on multiple occasions but the thoughts never materialized into words and onto the screen.  They just stayed thoughts and then eventually faded away. 

I am well.  Work is busy but it is always busy.  I will say that I am working 5 to 6 nights a week, which is beginning to take a toll, but I'm surprisingly content. 

A few highlights during my blogging sabbatical:

• I went to Denver to hear Andrew Harvey read Rumi.  I went with folks from my Mystical Church Network (now, Integral Church Leadership Movement).   Andrew Harvey is OK.  I'll try to blog about that.  I love Rumi.  I love my MCN friends.  I love Denver.  I'm ready to move there.  If I could move all my favorite people to Denver, my life would be perfect.  (Well, in my mind that is true.)
• We are having our first young adult "focus group" on alternative worship tonight.  That fact simply kicks-ass!  I've been working on this for quite some time now.  The church is finally ready to engage in the conversation.  That also kicks-ass!
• Had a lovely coffee with Mrs. M the other day.  I'm thankful to have my blogging friends even when not blogging. 
• The tulips bloomed.  They were perfect because tulips by their very nature are perfect.  I hope to get into the garden on Friday.  Its been over two weeks since I've had my hands in the dirt.  That is too long this time of year. 

So I'm hoping that my blogging sabbatical is over, but I just can't say for sure.  It seems this sabbatical chose me, rather than the other way around. 

Urban gardening

I had 14 youth show up for youth group today.  That is a fantastic number for us.  I have to say, I'm pleased with the numbers lately (not that its about numbers - but they do have a better time a larger group).

I took them to Joshua Farm, an urban garden started by a local couple.  The garden is in its third growing season and located on the sight of a now abandoned playground.  It is one of the worst neighborhoods in the Burg.  The homes are either abandoned or falling apart.  Trash litters the ground.  And yet, amid all the concrete and decay is the loveliest vegetable garden I've seen in years.  They recently received a grant from Lowe's that enabled them to build a composting toilet, a greenhouse, and move the water source closer to the garden. 

The youth split into teams.   Some planted potatoes, others onions, a few picked up trash, and I helped two 8th grade girls weed the strawberry patch.  It was my third day in a row to garden.  (My back is killing me.)  Today it was chilly and rainy.  We all had wet muddy patches on our knees but chatted happily was we labored.  The young ladies I worked with alternated between killing grubs and fondly talking to earth worms.  At least they knew which creature hurt the garden and spared the all important earth worm.  The other youth giggled as they planted the onions and then narrowly avoided a cold water fight when it came time to water their new seedlings. 

I sat there amazed by our surroundings.  The garden is a gift to that neighborhood.  It brings greens space into an area of broken glass, concrete, and boarded up windows.  It provides fresh organic vegetables to local families and a place for young people to connect to the earth.  It also provided one of the better hours I've spent with my youth group.   Its amazing what good soil can do. 

Finally.....

I got into my garden.  This year, I felt as if Spring would never come.  I don't think its any later than usual but the early time change and early Easter, screwed up my body clock.  My unmet desire to get into the garden has made me grouchy.  I've hardly been able to look outside - it was so ugly.  Last summer's growth was dead and littering the yard.  The crocus came up through the skeletal remains of a fern.  I actually missed the crocus all together.  They had finished blooming by the time I got myself outdoors. 

Yesterday the weather finally warmed and I had the day off (the first one in a long time) so I went running outside ready to tackle the mess.  I did so with such enthusiasm, I had finished cleaning up in less than 2 hours.  Today I planted pansies and cleaned the patio furniture. 

Being in the garden reminded me how much I need to connect to the earth.  I need to get my hands in the dirt to feel centered and grounded.  Winter is a difficult season for me.  I do not like the darkness and I feel off centered when separated from my garden.

So today I am grateful for the dirt under my nails.  It means I've had my hands in the soil and flowers are blooming in my yard.   In just a week or so, the tulips will bloom, followed by the azalea, then the iris, and then the roses.  I love watching the whole process unfold.  Spring is finally here!