Man is like a breath;
his days are like a passing shadow.
~Psalm 144:4~

The past couple of days the weather has been horrible. It’s been rainy, windy, snowy, with even a mixture of icy. We still had class though because it wasn’t enough to shut anything down. So that’s where I was on Ash Wednesday, in Brookens Library, room 369. We do our check-ins and then bring up any issues we are having at our sites. I didn’t have anything to report. I feel at peace with each one.

Dad had to preach in Delvan. It’s a smaller church up north that is in a vacancy so they’ve been calling him more. He had to be there for church at 6:30. The older kids were back from track practice in time to see him before he left and to play with Zorro before putting him in his cage while they went to the Lenten meal and Ash Wednesday service at Good Shepherd. She texted when they’d gotten there.

I wrote (and then deleted) that for Lent I’m repenting of my slothful tendencies. I keep thinking of that verse, “the last enemy to be defeated is death” with regard to this, except the word death is replaced with sloth. It’s like for whatever reason this is the one that saved for last. I still get tired and I still need naps, but it’s everything else. It’s everything else that is calling out to me saying I can do more.

Tom is a good cat who doesn’t bother anybody. He knows he is privileged to get to sleep inside and when he comes in he does his best to find a quiet spot. Sometimes when he’s in the living room he gets this look on his face like, “Really? I’m in here? I don’t know how this happened but I’m not going to say anything. I’m just going to sleep right here and be on my best behavior.”

He used to be scared of getting in trouble. Sometimes I think he still is, but I like to reassure him that nobody’s mad at him. We do have one cat who doesn’t like him inside. Cats can be fairly territorial but they don’t mind sharing as long as everyone respects everybody’s space. I don’t know where he goes to the bathroom. I’ve never seen it.

One of the boys shares an affinity with Tom. He said to us one time, “See? I’m just like Tom. Nobody cares about him but he still survives.” It made me laugh to hear him say that but it also made me sad because both are true in some way. But I know lots of people care about him and I know at least two of us care about Tom. Since God is love’s source, there is always enough.

‘…he took eighteen wives and sixty concubines, and fathered twenty-eight sons and sixty daughters.”
~2 Chronicles 11:21~

Rehoboam ticked me off the other day. I feel like with Solomon you can kind of understand how having 700 wives and 300 concubines was in some way a formality and just part of being a famous king who had to make treaties and alliances with foreign nations. He didn’t really care about most of those women and there was no way he could actually be having sex with that many.

But then comes Rehoboam whose numbers when you read them seem to me as equally as outrageous and then some. I have never liked it when I read about these men and their multiple wives. It’s not that my blood boils, but it starts to get warm. The boys were at the table and Josh came in from the office and when he walked into the kitchen I said, “Hey, do you have a second?”

I started to talk but then stopped and whispered, “Is anyone in the office??” The amount of times I have humiliated myself because our house is connected to the office door is enough so that I can barely even look at the office secretary anymore. We used to talk and gab until time got away from us and once I broke down and got sick that all stopped. The counselors, the LCMS legacy guy…

Ugh. Lauren was in there but I didn’t care. She’s a grown up and a woman and can handle these things. He grinned while I ranted and he stood at the stove. Why is it the men can have multiple wives, indulging their desires for multiple women, while the women are afforded no such luxury. Why was it alright for them to rot away in harems with no further chance to find actual love?

He said it probably had something to do with women not being able to reproduce as quickly. But I’m not sure I buy that argument either. I have mulled this over in my head many times trying to figure out the answer to “Is monogamy natural?” Like how do you argue from science that it is? So Rehoboam could father many children, but there’s no way he could’ve been a good dad to that many.

Good dads are part of a thriving society. If something is good, it has to be good for all parties. Fathering children as a man is not beneficial unless he can provide a steady love throughout their lives. It was bothering me so much I asked my own dad about it. I texted my mom to see if either of them were free to chat. I heard back pretty soon that they both were there and we talked for a while.

My dad said we aren’t being conformed to the image of Rehoboam.

I can hardly believe we’re already in March. It seems like not that long ago that we were in February or some place else. Dad and the boys had their woodcutters retreat. The dying pines trees on the way to the retreat center were finally cut down. It made me happy to see the X on both of their trunks. They weren’t even green anymore.

Elianna had a track meet so I was home with the dog. It went pretty well. I am still kind of scared of him and don’t like trying to put on his leash by myself. So we didn’t go for any walks, plus is it was cold. He was very excited when the boys came home in the later afternoon. The track meet went well and she was happy with her times.

I told my son we were postponing his birthday until Monday when we’d be more free. When you’re 12 that’s kind of what starts to happen with your birthdays but he handled it well. I’d rather do it right than throw it together and then the moment passes us by with no effort. We’ll bring mashed potatoes to Grandma’s and a birthday dessert.

It alternates between looking forward to the night or to the morning. I love waking up to morning coffee when I follow behind my husband to our single cup machine. This morning a cat had peed in the hallway and he said, “Hold on”, as I approached the potential slip or sock wetting hazard. Paper towels are one of those thing we need to keep a steady supply of but don’t. He had handful of napkins and covered the puddle.

I walked past him, then stopped and turned around and put my lips out for a kiss. We’ve been having more of these kisses lately, before I leave or when he does. And sometimes it’s the night I look forward to when we are finally back together. You hear of couples who can’t have their feet touching or who get too hot if they get too close. I tilt his head in the night if he wakes me up and I wake him up if I have a bad dream.

The cats have their nursery in the living room. One on the ottoman, the sofa, the loveseat, and one awake roaming with night vision eyes. “Good morning, Oreo”, I say, or Shadow, or Julie. Casper was banned once the weather turned warmer and I haven’t felt sorry enough to let him back in. If I think about him out there too much it will sadden me. But it was my wintery shower curtain two times in a row and that was too much.

Today was my grandma’s first birthday in heaven. I celebrated by working a four hour shift in her memory. It flew by because all I was doing was meds. If I can keep this job (if I don’t screw up) then I can see myself doing this forever. I can’t get over how perfect it is and how much I enjoy the atmosphere and environment. The only thing is that it can be lonely because there isn’t another nurse on the floor to hang out with.

And somewhere in me I still don’t like going, like there’s that anticipatory dread beforehand that makes me feel like I would rather stay home. I told Josh in the morning that I see things being different with the therapy job. Like that I can see actually looking forward to going and spending my day with the people. I was thinking about how I actually might not mind doing kids. Not all the time but I’d be open to seeing them.

I was looking at a website of therapy places in Chicago. There were rows and rows of female therapists with the occasional male ones. It made me wonder how I am supposed to stand out in a field that seems saturated with women and all within the same 20 year age range. I brought this up in our class tonight and asked what the odds are of finding an job. One girl said community mental health sites are always hiring.

But the catch is that the pay sucks. I finally feel like I caught a break with the lengthening out of my hours. Instead of having to do my grid four times, once for every semester of internship, they said it is optional which semester I do it. So I only have to do the presentation one more time, just as long as I do it before graduation. I told my supervisor about the video I would’ve had. She said she thinks I will get a better one.

I missed the boys. And the texts that were coming in from my family about Grandma. And the one from the friend who lost her dad and I’m trying not to be so negligent in responding. I came home and we had lunch. Dad told me about his visit and I let him have the remaining potatoes. The boys cleaned up and I took a nap, longer than normal as I was sleepy. The kids stayed with Grandma in the evening and had a wonderful time.

In the summer this would be considered cold but in the winter 40 degrees was a blissfully warm day. The boys didn’t wear coats and I only wore my sweater. We took Zorro for a walk at some point in the morning. We walked down the camp road toward the woodshed where Tim was stacking firewood. Zorro wanted to run over to him and Tim didn’t mind. They have a rougher way of playing and seem to know each other’s ways.

We walked toward the bigger hill and one said we could take Zorro down to the taps. In some kind of blast from the past I said, “I don’t think I can walk that far.” So we walked instead down to the dam and mostly crossed it. The ice had become a thicker slush across the water that would not hold rocks when the boys threw them. They found a drainage pipe where the ice had fallen out.

After internship tonight Ethan texted asking if I’d heard about the planes in Chicago that almost collided. I said that I hadn’t, wondering why there’s been so much more scary plane news lately. Their nationals team was on the plane that was landing. I was horrified to hear this and thanked God they were alright. I came home and played the videos as we were sitting down for supper. We did birthday muffins and a mylar balloon.

I thought
it was the appreciation
I needed

The accolades
from sea to sea
shining

But then you came
and crowned me
with something

Other
than what
I thought I knew

The whisper
the dream, the
promise, the hope

That we could be
more than
wasted allies

“…but with what is proper for women who profess godliness–with good works.”
~1 Timothy 2:10~

This evening Dad and the kids went to a youth group dinner in Auburn. I would’ve gone along but I stayed home instead to work on my paper. I wish I could say I got more done. Zorro slept for most of the time and when he woke up I spent some time with him. They picked up my mother-in-law on the way out and at the dinner sat with Laura’s parents. Since the youth gathering is in New Orleans it was another Mardi Gras theme.

I texted a former classmate to get the scoop on how she’s been doing. She’s ready to be done and graduates on May 9th. She’s one of the several who transferred to the online program at Colorado Christian University which she describes as fast food education. She didn’t like Lincoln either but now she realizes that they gave us a great foundation. She’s staying at her internship place and hopes to work around 20-25 hours a week.

That way she can still chase around her kids and have free time. She has two kids in college and a daughter in high school. Later I talked to Alexis about how things went for her on Thursday. She’s in charge of some kind of counseling day and was asking if I could give her a summary statement of my project. All the projects are being advertised on a poster board. I’m doing it now on something related to postpartum depression.

And then I’m going to advocate at Contact Ministries for some kind of policy. I think they need to have a way for the mothers with babies and toddlers to get breaks. They do their best but things get lost in the shuffle. I don’t know, it hasn’t completely come together in my head. The other thing I thought of is doing a class of some sort over there or at Trinity. They have a new deaconess wanting to start up a moms group.

The teacher said we’re not supposed to act like we’re the experts or that we are going in to rescue anybody. So when I asked about doing a class she was hesitant. Later I called my sister to ask about her therapy session. There is a therapist who does sessions on Sundays. I thought that was weird but I guess people do it. Then I talked to her about something else I wanted to talk about as she is one aware of my particular issues.

One of my favorite papers ever written I wrote backwards. I had a general idea for a topic, then went to the library and checked out books. I read parts of them during the baseball games then I’d come home and write something about that part. I did that with maybe 13 or so books and mixed it all around so that it started to tell a story. There were a few parts from my class discussion board posts that I also copied and pasted.

It was backwards because I didn’t know fully what I was going to write about until I wrote it. And then I came up with my thesis at the end. It made me so happy how it all came together and that I still ended up getting a good grade. But what I always go back to is the memory of my chair, the fence line, and the field. I think men need to learn more from women but I don’t think it necessarily needs to happen in open settings.

Or even written ones. Like a lot of the time I’ll read something and think, “You’re making us sound dumber by saying that.” There are exceptions where some women are super smart when they write, not to say men always are. It’s not that I think men are smarter. Heavens, that isn’t it. And it isn’t really either that I think women are dumber. But we’re only supposed to go so far and after that it’s the men meant for most public realms.

Tomorrow I’m going to have to actually to do some homework. Our project proposals are due on Monday and other than thinking about it, I haven’t started. Today I sat down and went through my calendar and remaining assignments and videos and tried to organize everything according to the weekends that I have off. This is the first of three bigger assignments I have: the proposal, a presentation, and then my grid.

I have started studying though for this CECE test in case I end up needing to take it next month. It’s offered two times a semester, except last semester they did away with the option of graduating early from the HDC (human development counseling) program. So I sent an email to my faculty advisor just to check and see if that means they still will offer the needed test in the fall. People say it’s terrible and very difficult to pass.

They say it’s because they didn’t learn anything here. I will say it’s a little weird to not have had a class so far where the teacher really teaches. At LCC the lecture with 80+ slides a night was part of nearly every class. I do not miss the being at class until 10PM but I do miss the teachers, the learning, and the closer knit classroom experiences. I’m definitely still learnings things here. The group supervision time is very helpful.

At LCC it was only 90 minutes a week and at UIS it’s 2 1/2 hours each week as a class time. This is one of those things that when it’s over I will only then realize how bogged down my mind was. Either way, I’m thankful for the low pressure when it comes to this class and am glad to know that as long as I turn something in things go smoothly. I was also looking up the various options out there for somatic therapy certifications.

If the university gets five students interested then we can get a special code to get a discounted rate for the Gottman Institute couples therapy certifications. That I would definitely want to do and it’s something you do at your own pace. Sometimes I feel sad that the church isn’t always a loving place. We are supposed to be the ones who are bringing the healing with compassion, connection, and supportive community.