Peace on Earth, and Good Will Toward Men

I spend the whole month of December prior to the 25th thinking about a little baby in a manger, his too-young mom overwhelmed at the thought of raising God, his not-so dad wondering if he'll ever be able to teach him anything, the wise men making a trek across hundreds of miles in the hopes of finding something greater than themselves and the shepherds who will never forget that night, but who will also never fully know its significance.

But then it comes to the actual day, and I think about a crown of thorns. I think about that baby all grown up and being beaten and nailed to a cross because He loves us so much, despite everything we have done, are doing and will continue to do against Him. He left all the majesty and glory of Heaven to take on flesh - disgusting, bloody, disease-prone humanity.

He died that we might live.

I urge you this Christmas to think beyond the manger. The story doesn't stop at Luke 2.

(Incidentally, neither do most of the great Christmas hymns. They are always looking ahead.)

1. It came upon the midnight clear,
that glorious song of old,
from angels bending near the earth
to touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good will to men,
from heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
to hear the angels sing.

2. Still through the cloven skies they come
with peaceful wings unfurled,
and still their heavenly music floats
o'er all the weary world;
above its sad and lowly plains,
they bend on hovering wing,
and ever o'er its Babel sounds
the blessed angels sing.

3. And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow,
look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing!

4. For lo! the days are hastening on,
by prophet seen of old,
when with the ever-circling years
shall come the time foretold
when peace shall over all the earth
its ancient splendors fling,
and the whole world send back the song
which now the angels sing.

Merry Christmas.

Then there were three...

We are few today.


I felt compelled to document that fact.

Lori threatened to take my camera away.

So I took a picture of myself.



Yeah. Vacation is just around the corner.

This seems like a good time to announce my (insanely ambitious and possibly quite stupid) goal for this next year. Well, one of them. Are you ready?

I want to take at least one awesome photo every day in 2012.

It's daunting, I know. I am daunted by the prospect of this. I don't know if I'll succeed. I don't know if I'll even remember come January 1. But I'm going to try. And if I only have 30-40 awesome photos by next December, that's okay. That's 30-40 more than I had before.

Getting into the Christmas spirit...

I was going to post this yesterday, but I was absolutely wrecked. Truthfully, most people in the office were, which is kinda sad when you know that the reason for this widespread fatigue is the office Christmas party that lasted until (gasp!) 8:30. I know. We'll have to figure out something different for next year. Maybe start at 4.

Anyway, I mention the party because I had a starring role in it as the Innkeeper!


Wait, what?! No, no, no. Silly me. Wrong photo.




Ain't we pretty? (In case you're wondering, it's a very modern interpretation of the Innkeeper.)

And you're probably wondering about that whole Santa Clause thing up there. To be honest, I'm still not sure how it happened. All I know is that it either solidifies my candidacy for President, or it knocks me completely out of the running. I'll just have to run at a time when Santa is in vogue. But then there's the whole Christian thing. That could be problematic. Oh well.

I was having a rough day all around yesterday. I had to apologize a couple different times for the thoughts running around in my head. It got so bad, I nearly apologized to the entire nation of France. Fortunately, I recovered before it got that far. (See, still having this problem...)

I think everyone in the office is going a little stir-crazy. We know the end is near. We can see it. We can just detect that first whiff of fresh air and freedom. As soon as I start tasting it, I'm headed for the door, regardless of what is left on my desk.

I shouldn't make it sound so bad. Things have slowed down quite a bit for me. Instead of 9,000 letters like last week, I'm down to 4,750. I'm also done sending out Christmas cards. I think. Every time I think I'm done, I think of new people to send them to. It would be funny if the people I had forgotten to send them to weren't my family.

I get stuck in a bit of a destructive pattern at this time of year. What am I destroying, you ask? My bank account. I like buying gifts for people. I like buying gifts for myself. There are a ton of sales right now. All of these things combine to be very bad for my fiscal future. Not to mention, Christmas is coming up, and the fear of duplicates should keep me from parting with hard-earned greenbacks.

I can't stop talking like this. It's like my stream-of-consciousness Christmas letter all over again. Nothing of substance passes from my fingertips. I may actually start telling deep, dark secrets if I don't end this no-

December 3

Last night, in my dreams, I packed a complete bag for Africa. I was at the airport, about to board the plane when I woke up.

I wish I knew when a cigar was just a cigar.

In other news...



Favorite Christmas song.

The End (of November) Is Nigh!

I totally intended to post today so I could have bookended posts in November. Really.

Oops.

You can rest assured that (this time) I have not been not posting because of a lack of things about which to write. It has, alas, been an incredibly busy month, fraught with deadlines and projects and prayer cards and printing and then, to top it all off, Thanksgiving.

I trust yours was excellent.

Mine also excelled. It is (mostly) always a pleasure to take some time out to visit my parents and not have to worry about work for a bit. Plus, my mom makes awesome food, and always has enough for an army. This is good, because it means I get to bring the leftovers back to my apartment.

So, November.

I spoke at a WMF meeting in Ohio and had a lovely time with the ladies. I first spoke there when I was just starting to fund, and they have been faithful supporters since, so it was nice to be able to update them on life at OMS. I haven't been speaking much lately, which makes me sad because I actually really like to talk about what God is doing around the world. (Hint Hint) I am in Communications for a reason.

Please ignore the fact that I hated Speech class in high school. I liked it much more in college. I'm practically a pro, now.

Or not.

But I really would be happy to talk to you one on one about my missionary life. I don't post even half of it all on here or write about everything in my letters. And trust me, a lot of weird stuff goes on around here.

Moving on.

Remember that whole waiting thing I posted at the beginning of the month? Turns out that's really hard to do. I'm not that patient, and I like having everything set and secure and ready. I guess it's a good lesson in patience and faith.

What else happened in November?

Oh! We had our second Crockpot and Craft night for the ladies at OMS. Actually, they would probably allow guys, but I don't know many guys who craft. Of course, I don't really do crafts either. I made jewelry the first night. This time, I colored. With crayons and everything. It was very relaxing.

Almost forgot - I went to a seminar on setting goals. It was actually very informative, but a little over my head. As in, most of the people attending were the jefes around here, and my goals usually end up being whatever they need to be to support their goals. It's very interesting, though, to see how things trickle down from an organizational level to the very lowest level of bottom feeders. (My words.) I've always had very different perspectives on organizations in general.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. Oh well.

The next big thing was Thanksgiving. I've already kinda talked about that. I did get to see my nephew, which was lovely. I haven't seen him in quite awhile. We were supposed to go to PA for his birthday in September, but then the Bloomsburg Fair flooded and was cancelled. I just can't believe how tall he is now! Crazy.

And that's it. The rest of the month was spent printing and preparing to print and putting together prayer cards and editing and cleaning and recording radio ads and writing bios for the Christmas party and probably a couple other things I'm forgetting.

I'm looking forward to my long Christmas break. I'm tired. I need the sleep.

November 1

Okay. So you need some backstory.

I've been printing non-stop for a couple days now. Like, two printers going, plus the cutting machine, plus the folding machine. I'm going deaf from all the clacking and clattering. I don't even technically have time to be writing this. But that's not important.

What is important is that for one of the print jobs, I have to be physically present to keep feeding paper into the machine. This means standing (or sitting) in a small room with a bunch of machines and no other source of entertainment. This has caused me to go slightly nuts.

Except... Directly adjacent to the printing room is the book room where we store the books we are selling. As I didn't bring any other entertainment with me, I have taken to reading from these books while I wait to feed more paper.

Which brings us to today.

Today's selection came from Streams in the Desert, which, if you didn't know (but you really should), was written by Lettie Cowman, co-founder of The Oriental Missionary Society, now known as One Mission Society. Yeah, that's right.

Anyway.

It's a 366-day devotional (I don't get it, either), so rather than start at the beginning, I decided to read the entry for November 1. This turned out to be an excellent selection.

An hour of waiting!
Yet there seems such need
To reach that spot sublime!
I long to reach them--but I long far more
To trust His time!

"Sit still, My children"--
Yet the heathen die,
They perish while I stay!
I long to reach them--but I long far more
To trust His way!

It's good to get,
It's good indeed to give!
Yet it is better still--
O'er breadth, through length, down depth, up height,
To trust His will.

F.M.N.




Yeah, 'cause this isn't what I've been thinking and praying about for months now.

Sunday

I try to keep my Sundays as low-key as possible. It's a day of rest, and I keep to that as much as possible.

I've been attending Greenwood Christian Church for about two months, now. I changed churches a while back because I wasn't really connecting. I'm hoping that things are different here, but I've been gone so many weekends that it's hard to keep track of things. My experience has been ... rocky, thus far. But I have high hopes for the future.

So yeah. I try to hit the earliest service because, as much as I like my sleep, I like having a full day to just chill. It also gives me a chance to catch up on my online shows. I try not to get caught up in too many, but as it turns out, all the ones I watch have been going on for a freakishly long time. I can't just stop now.



And that's my week. It varies occasionally, but I keep a pretty tight routine. I don't know if that makes me boring or pathetic. I don't really care, either. It's life.

I do hope you're all considering the interaction I proposed. I really would like to hear from you.

Saturday

I pretty much live for this day. It is my day to do whatever I want. Sort of. It's usually filled with errands and such. But it's my one day to just relax and not think about anything if I so choose.

Of course, if you were on Facebook, you read my post about the Huggy Bear Quik Shop in Huntington calling me at 8:45 this morning. I actually missed the call and they didn't leave a message, but I looked up the number. I can't figure out a reason for the call, so it had to be a misdial, but it just seems so random. Definitely not par for the course.

It did give me a little extra time to get ready for the day, though. I had a special treat. My roommate in college contacted me recently and asked if we could get together. I jumped at the chance. We figured out today that it's probably been at least two years since the last time we saw each other. Far too long. So I drove up to Kokomo and we had a lovely lunch, excellent conversation, and I finally saw The Last Airbender. So-so acting, but an interesting story and pretty nice visual effects. I had an excellent time, and hopefully, this will jump start future visits.

The rest of the day was all right. I watched some Sanctuary, played several games of Mahjongg and tried to get over a headache. Probably shouldn't have kept staring at a screen, but I guess I'm not that smart.

I wish I had more to tell you about today, but that was it.

I love Saturdays.

Friday

Sorry. I had to do it.


Bit of a late start today. This is typical for a Friday. It feels like the whole week is weighing down on me. I was counting down the hours until I could go back home.

But my Avon order came this morning. I'm starting on Christmas presents, and this will cover a couple for my mom. She's very easy to shop for. My dad is not so easy. At the moment, I'm at a loss, but that's why I start early.

I got the rest of my letters printed this morning. It's funny how something you can fix in ten seconds with the right part holds up production and causes great anxiety when the part is unavailable. You know what I've learned from this?

Two things, actually.

One: I am a very impatient person.

B: Do not mess with my routine. Ever.

While the letters were printing, I went over to MFM. It was bare bones this morning, like the rest of the office. Fortunately, Emily decided to work on stuff in our department.

Speaking of friends, I don't think I mentioned Arika yesterday. She and I were chatting on and off via instant messenger. This is a frequent occurrence. I've talked about Arika before, mostly about her being a good sounding board and a fellow historian/no- nonsense-allowed woman. Just wanted to say, I'm lucky to have her as a friend.

The morning progressed without incident, but somewhere between lunch and coming back, I developed a headache. It sat in the back of my head for the rest of the day, rather unpleasant, but not much I could do about it.

I think I had more human contact this afternoon than I have ever had in my tenure at OMS on a Friday. Most people don't bother calling because we're notorious for being out. But today, for some reason, I had several phone calls and quite a few visitors. It was weird. If I believed in conspiracies (which I do), I might get a little paranoid.

::looksovershoulder::

Hmm...

Anyway, I also had a short chat with my boss about blogs this afternoon. It's something I've been thinking about for quite a while. As much as I love blogging (it's basically a journal, after all, and I've kept dozens of those over the years), I have really been struggling with various blog-related things. For example, I started this blog for use primarily as a ministry tool to keep everyone updated on trips and day-to-day life. However, I occasionally feel compelled to write about other things, such as politics or religion or other potentially controversial things, and I am hesitant to post because it might be outside my purview. I'm also hesitant to post anything too personal. The nature of a blog makes it almost impossible to know who is reading it, and there are just some things that can't or shouldn't be said to certain audiences.

At the moment, I feel like my blog is really only useful to me personally. I work things out by writing about them, and for that purpose alone, I might be willing to keep the blog going, but with reduced permissions. But I started this blog for my supporters. I want you to know how I am and how you've contributed to God's kingdom by supporting me. I also want you to feel free to contact me at any time. Leave comments! Send emails! I really would love to hear from you.

This is probably something I should be saving for its own post, but I just felt really strongly about it today. I'd appreciate any feedback you might have to offer.

A side effect of all the visitors was missing the webinar I was going to attend at 4. Really, it was a ridiculous time to shoot for, but it promised to be a good webinar about creating successful emails in Vertical Response, which is our email marketing platform, yet another thing of which I am in charge. Ah well... I have another one next week potentially, so I'll just hope that covers good information as well.

I left work a little after 5. Friday is my night to crash. I have to get rid of all the work stuff and just chill out for a bit. I usually go to bed early, which seems odd, I know. But if I can get a good night's sleep and still wake up early enough to feel like I'm not wasting my day, I consider it a win. Besides, I've got plans for tomorrow, plans that require me to be out the door at a certain time.

Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. I went over to Sarah's and we watched the latest Transformers movie. It was good - lots of lovely explosions - but long. Like, super long. Which is why I'm posting this on Saturday, not-

Friday.

Thursday

Rinse.

Repeat.

I admit, I briefly considered leaving it at that. Thursday is a lot like Tuesday, and I had many of the same problems as yesterday.

But I know you're really, really interested in my life. And truly, this is fascinating stuff.

Remember that individual from Israel who was at lunch yesterday? That was our chapel speaker this morning. And it was good. Like, really good. We learned a lot about Elijah and what a screw-up he was. Good times.

The mass exodus began today. Several people in my department were gone, and the rest of the building looked like a ghost town. This is more common on Friday, but if people are traveling, they get a head start on Thursday. It was very quiet in the building. Sometimes that is a good thing. Sometimes it's not.

I continued to have printer problems. Like, a lot. To the point where I couldn't print anything. I did finally get some letters printed, but it was almost more hassle than it was worth.

Lunch was fun. I watched an episode of Numb3rs. Well, I think I actually fell asleep for a bit because it went from a discussion about absent fathers to a shoot-out. Oh well.

More printer finagling after lunch. It was more quiet than a graveyard in the department, so I put on some jazz, which had the further benefit of keeping me calm.

There was a brief moment earlier in the afternoon when the mailroom informed me that something I ordered had arrived. I was prepared to do a happy dance. Alas, it was the card stock for the end-of-year extravaganza being mailed out to 17,000 people.

I spent the majority of the afternoon (when I wasn't wrestling with the printer) reading our second yet-to-be-released children's book. Editing is one of my true joys, so this was an enjoyable task.

Then, wouldn't you know, 4:00 rolls around and I am informed that my toner arrived! I had 900 letters left to print, and print I did! And I even did my happy dance. (Is it sad that I was this happy about toner cartridges? It feels sad. I'm going to ignore that.)

I spent way too much time on cracked.com when I got home from work. I wouldn't recommend the site to anyone, really, but it does have some rather insightful and hilarious articles.

Are all my Thursdays like this?

Wednesday

I hate having wet feet.

It occurs to me that I need to explain this. I don't care about having wet feet when everything else is wet, i.e. in the shower or the pool.

(Though that phrase 'get your feet wet' makes me cringe. I don't see why anyone would want to do that.)

However, when it is raining, I despise having wet feet. It almost makes me change my habits to start wearing regular shoes.



Yeah, like that will ever happen.

I set out to complete the printing of prayer letters this morning only to remember that I have no yellow toner. I thought there might be a letter left to print that didn't have any yellow in it. I was wrong. This leaves me with a dilemma. How long do I wait before trying to print somewhere else?

I got sidetracked this morning by an email from my mother with a few possibilities for 2012. I'm hesitant to say anything here, but it's safe to say it's been on my mind all day.

I deleted 93 emails from my inbox this morning. I felt a deep satisfaction about that.


Foster did a photo shoot for Mobilization this morning. Ostensibly, I was there to make them laugh. But really, I was just there to be entertained. They are a fun bunch.

Foster did another photo shoot with my good friend Emily. She has been a real blessing to me here in Greenwood, and we have very similar senses of humor.

Once a month, we have a half day of prayer on Wednesday. It wasn't today, but I didn't want you to miss out on all the fun happenings of a Wednesday. Because really, my whole schedule was thrown off. Not being able to print letters was a little bit like a death sentence. I had serious anxiety issues.

Seriously.

Lunch was fun today. Every week, except during the summer, one of missionaries makes lunch for homeland staff who sign up. I don't always go, but we were having ribs and mashed potatoes and all kinds of good things, so I felt compelled. Plus, it was raining and cold and I didn't feel like walking to my apartment.

Anyway, my boss, who you can always count on for an... um, interesting comes to mind - yes, an interesting experience, was sitting at my table with some other ladies and an individual from Israel. Susan happened to notice that this individual was only eating salad and potatoes and asked, "Are you a vegetarian?"

For those of you who have anticipated the response: Yeah. I know.

Well, this individual just looks at her and says, very calmly, "No. I am a Jew."

As Lori said later, "I just can't get that moment out of my head."

I spent some quality time with the cutting machine early in the afternoon. I've already posted pictures of me before, but just to reiterate, it's quite the power trip. It is indeed the small things.

I continued on my quest to print letters this afternoon. I used the printer in the Comm office since I couldn't use the larger one. It jammed on me several times. I did my best to keep my composure.

I failed.


But necessity is the Mother of Invention. So I improvised. Not that it did much good. But I did get a few letters printed.

Here's hoping the toner arrives tomorrow. Early.



I hate having wet feet.



I had one of my really bad back aches tonight. Usually, I don't have a problem lying on my stomach to use the computer. (Just ask my boss.) Tonight, though, I could barely move. It probably builds up from all the times I do lay on my stomach, but I swear, most of the time it's comfortable.

That being said, I just curled up with my hot water bottle and watched Criminal Minds for the rest of the evening. Early to bed tonight, I think.

Tuesday

Let's assume that every weekday is going to start like yesterday's. In fact, just go back to Monday and read everything up until 9 am. We're all about the routine here.

Our excitement for the morning was a ginormous flying bug. It was very annoying because it kept buzzing into the lights. We're pretty sure James killed it, but it disappeared, so we're not positive.

Every Tuesday (mostly) we have chapel from 9-9:30 or 10 or whenever the speaker stops talking. Today, Larry and Susan Weil spoke about their service in Mozambique. It was a good chapel, very interesting. I worked with the Weils on their prayer card, and now I'm working on getting a magnet printed for them. I like it when field missionaries come and speak because, though I read about them and even write stories about them, I rarely get to meet them in person.

Since I organized the letters to be printed on Monday, I can start on them immediately after chapel on Tuesday. This week I have eight letters, none of which have to be stuffed by me, which is awesome. Most of the time, I can just hit print and let the machines take over.


Of course, then there's the folding. Multiply that by 3500 pages this week.

Another part of my job is to manage social media for OMS. That means keeping track of our Facebook page (and a little bit on Twitter). My boss and I tag team posting prayer requests and bits of information for our followers.

I told you yesterday that I would tell you about my department today. Way back, I posted a picture of the department as it was. We've gone through a few changes since then.


This is what my department looks like now. (Oh, and we were talking today about "10 Signs That Your Department Is Dysfunctional." There are nine here. I think the collective makes ten.)

We'll start with Sarah on the left. She's not new, but she's still awesome. She's in charge of A/V stuff, and she answers all of my video and photography questions.

Next to her is Jason. He's our One Mission Kids guy. He put together a great website for kids to explore some of our countries.

In front of Jason is Barb. She's our newest member and just moved from HOPE61. She helps with a lot of the administrative stuff and assists me with prayer letters and envelopes.

My boss, Susan, is next in green. She's hilarious. If you are friends with me on Facebook, then you see a lot of quotes from her.

Lori, in front of Susan, is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. (I mean, I like everyone else, but Lori is just awesome. Sorry guys.) She does a ton of editing, and she doesn't mind when I borrow her to take random photos of me at the folding machine.

Foster's next. He's very cheerful. I am not. He's always trying to get me to be more cheerful. I resist. Most of the time.

Angela is also new. She helps with the proofing. Angela is pretty quiet, but very sweet.

James is also new. He took the workspace directly in front of mine, so we exchange lots of pithy comments. We also play dueling music. He's started a list of things I need.


He also likes peanut butter.

I interact with all of these people every day at work.

It's amazing we're all still sane.

;)





Moving on.

So yeah, my afternoon is a lot like my morning. (Lunch was turkey sandwiches.) I print letters. I fold them. I print more. I come back to my desk and check my email. I talk to Foster about brochures, or Susan about editing, or Lori about the latest episode of Castle or Criminal Minds that we saw. (And work stuff.)

Very occasionally, we head over to Men for Missions land for Holy Hour. Every day at 10 and 3, they have break time. We all show up at random times. I don't go too often, but it's nice to get out of my building for awhile. (Don't worry, I leave letters printing while I'm eating cake.)


It's a good time of fellowship. It's also a good time to gain a new nickname.

No end-of-the-day hijinks today. I learned how to order toner for my machine - I felt powerful. It's the little things, you know?

Of course, now I have a problem. I'm out of Yellow toner and I still have a couple thousand letters to print. Here's hoping the toner arrives or I figure out another creative solution before Thursday when the letters get picked up.

5:20 - Quitting time.

I had a bit of a headache this evening. It happens a lot, and I don't help matters by staring at a computer screen all day.

Of course, when I got home, I immediately logged on to catch up on my British soaps. They are complete rubbish, and it's nice to not have to pay close attention to what is going on. Some of them are worse than the American soaps for dragging things out. I try to watch a wide variety so I can work on the various accents.

I like lazy evenings. It's a nice change of pace from the day.

And that's Tuesday.

Monday

Okay, sooo... It's been forever. I am aware of this. Like, hyper aware of this. And I feel terrible. I feel compelled to make it up to you. And really, the only way I can think of to do that is to do a post-bomb. Therefore, you are getting an exclusive look at my life here in Greenwood on a day-by-day basis.

I hope it's not too boring.

Monday

My week starts around 6:45 am. That's when my first alarm goes off. I keep two because I'm always afraid one won't go off. The alarm at 6:45 gets me out of the deep, not-aware-of-anything sleep. Theoretically, it makes it easier to wake up completely when my phone goes off at 6:55. Practically, I hit snooze until 7:10, 7:15 on a slow day. It takes me about 30 minutes to get ready for work. Then I hit the computer.

There are certain sites I check every morning. I read the next selection in the Chronological Bible Study I'm doing at the moment. I see if anything interesting has happened on Facebook. I check my home email and delete most of them. If it's urgent, I reply; if it's work, I forward it to my work email; if it's not urgent, but still needs attention, it usually sits in my inbox until I have more than five minutes to spare. I usually wait until my inbox hits 100 before I do something about it.

I walk to work between 8:15 and 8:30. It takes me about a minute to get from my apartment to my office unless I dawdle, which usually happens on a Monday. I set up my Mac and check phone messages while booting up my slower PC. The first thing I do every day is check my email. We have an internal system, so I check the posts in General Information, see what Prayer Requests have been added, and when all the flags are gone, I open my inbox.


I don't think I've told you about my new duties, yet. I recently took over the job of coordinating prayer letters. Missionaries send their prayer letters to me, I either edit or pass them on to be edited, I print enough letters for their prayer list, and I send the letters off to be stuffed. Sometimes, missionaries have special requests, so I do stuffing myself.

But I'm getting ahead of my week.

I have two email accounts I keep open all day. The first is my main work email. All of my previous duties are still part of my day, so I catch up from the weekend. This morning, I had about six emails from my boss about various things, including a need to print 17,000 response cards for a DML.

My second email account is for prayer letters. It's too confusing to keep track of everything if it's in one email, so we separated them. It also allows other people to access the email and work on letters when I'm not around.

I get as far as my inbox when 9:15 rolls around and my boss arrives. Every Monday morning, we either have a department meeting or a staff briefing.

This morning was a regular department meeting. Anyone who isn't traveling gathers together and catches up on each other's lives, work projects and future meetings and such. We give prayer requests and praises and then pray for about half an hour. We typically finish between 10 and 10:15.

Then it's back to the desk. Monday is all about organization. What do I need to do this week and when? This is usually dictated by emails or by things I've already scheduled on my calendar. I do short administrative tasks and organize until noon when Sarah Leckie reminds us to go eat.

I'll tell you about my team tomorrow.

Monday is the unofficial department lunch day. It's typically me, Foster, Susan and Lori, but the base group is often supplemented by others in our department, Lori's daughter or husband on occasion, or whomever we happen to pick up in the parking lot. We change venues frequently. Today was McDonald's because we all needed someplace inexpensive and quick. At lunch, we talk about life, work or whatever, and we laugh a lot. It's a nice break to a usually stressful day. Today we talked about the Christmas party. Communications is in charge of some entertainment, but we can't decide between a video and doing something live.

After lunch, I started working on prayer letters. I have to request the mailing list numbers for all of the letters being printed this week, and I have to figure out how many letters need to be printed. Five letters were edited on Friday by Celia, but another three have come in over the weekend, so I will have to edit those before printing begins.

I can tell how stressful my week is going to be mostly by the number of letters I have to print. Obviously, the more letters there are, the more time I need to devote to printing. During a typical week, I'll print 6-12 letters. Last week, I had 12 letters, which meant approximately 4500 pages to print and fold.

It's a lot to get used to.

I can't let letters take up all of my time, though. Throughout the day, I'm receiving more emails holding more requests for editing or video work or file conversions. Last week, I taped a short funding video for Dave and Jennifer Sherwood. They are funding to be missionaries in Mexico. I edited the video and sent it to them this afternoon. I also worked with a family who is sending a letter to the constituents of their mother who passed away in September.


Another huge part of my job is prayer cards. We send orders to the printer every other Monday, but I am always getting new orders. Foster designs the front of the card with the photo, but the inside is all mine. I have to coordinate photo shoots with Foster, orders with our printer and design with our missionaries. It can be a lengthy process, sometimes, but they always come out looking great! Fortunately, I'm caught up with orders this week.

Another video I worked on recently was for a missions conference at World Gospel Church in Terre Haute this weekend. I did all of the filming, which is something of which I've been wanting to do more along with photography. I still have a lot to learn, but we watched the video today, and it was pretty good.

I did a cartwheel in the hallway today. It was fun. :)

The end of the work day can get a little crazy, sometimes. We have been making suggestions all day about the Christmas video, some serious, some not, and Foster had a thought about including something like what SNL did back in the day, so we had to watch a couple sketches on YouTube. We work hard around here, and it's nice to take a break now and then to be fun and spontaneous.

If you're still with me by this point, I applaud you. My day sounds much more exhausting when I read through everything.

I left work today around 5:30. It varies from day to day, but not by much. Dinner was... unsatisfying. I tried something new, and it didn't quite work.

Overall, my evenings are pretty boring. I watch television or read. Tonight was Criminal Minds and Star Wars.

And that's it. That's my Monday. I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned for Tuesday.

October Radio

I'm actually quite proud of this month's spot. That's my boss on the loudspeaker, and Jason Campbell is playing Bill. I don't think I have a name in this. So we'll call me SwordGirl. 'Cause I'm awesome like that.

I Remember. I Wish I Could Forget.

I was sitting in second period. World History. We were late getting started, and rumors started circulating that something had happened. Finally, Mr. Weaver came in. A plane has hit the World Trade Center. They took the students downstairs to the cafeteria. Chet Swearingen helped them set up a TV, and we turned on the news. I don't remember now if we saw the second plane hit, or if it came on after that. We were just kids.

I was fifteen.

We talked amongst ourselves, one eye on the TV. Christine, my best friend, asked me what it meant. I tried to explain what I knew about the World Trade Center - it wasn't a lot. I told her that it was a key financial center, and the economy would be hurt badly. This has happened before in 1993. The towers will be fine. We can recover.

The Pentagon has also been hit.

There will be a war, I thought.

More rumors were flying. Parents were coming to pick up their kids. A fourth plane had hit the White House. No, it was headed toward the White House. The Capitol Building. A fifth plane had been hijacked.

The news agencies couldn't keep up. They were just as panicked, just as confused. Airports were being shut down. The West Coast was just waking up.

The first tower fell.

It hadn't been that long since we started watching - less than an hour - but most of us had already settled into this new mindset. It was obvious that something big had changed - our worldview had just been radically altered. But it wasn't until I watched the towers fall that all of this was cemented in my mind.

I couldn't stop watching. But I didn't want to talk anymore. I was numb. Who would do this to us? I was fifteen! A sophomore in high school. I had never heard of Al Qaeda or Osama bin Laden. I didn't understand how anything like this could happen.

I don't remember much about the rest of the day. I can't remember if they sent us home early, or if I waited. I know the news was a constant presence. The crash in Pennsylvania seemed almost surreal to me, like it was just one thing too many to add to the horrors of the day. I remember thinking that there was still another airplane out there somewhere. Somehow, I ended up in the car with my dad. We went to get gas because the tank was nearly on empty, and there were huge lines no matter where we went. I felt indignant. We were getting gas because we needed it, not because we were afraid! Gas had jumped to some astronomical price (probably what it is now). Jennie Snow helped us pump gas because the lines were going all over the place.

It was like living in a fog. I felt like I had to watch the news because history was happening in front of me, but I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing. Weeks passed, and more of the story unfolded. I was indignant. I felt like I had been personally attacked.

Sometime later, possibly on the month anniversary, maybe even on the year, there was a memorial service held at the World War II Museum in Auburn. I was asked to sing "For Such a Time as This." I thought it was a wildly inappropriate song for the occasion. I really didn't see what Esther had to do with the attacks on September 11. (It also didn't help that my school had done the asking, and I was not a fan of that place. Also, it was originally sung by a man. Not exactly my range.) But whatever. For the first time, I felt connected to what had happened.

Regardless of how it seemed then, time didn't really stop. Gradually, we moved on. We adjusted. Adapted. Sure, we looked up a little too long when we heard a plane. We spent a little more time at church. For awhile. We made a solemn decision to go to war. Then we spent seven+ years arguing about that decision. The war settled into the background.

In 2004, I went to New York City for my senior class trip. We went to Ground Zero. There's a whole page in my yearbook about it. (Probably because I'm the one who put it together.)







At the time, they were still working on shoring up some of the tunnels and fixing the surrounding damage, including Building 7. We saw the damaged sculpture that had been in the courtyard. There was almost a visceral connection for me to the site. For one, I couldn't believe how small it was. It seemed impossible that two towers could have fit in that small block of space, and I couldn't imagine how anyone got out alive. And I have a very vivid imagination. I think that was part of my problem.

I very nearly couldn't look. But once I looked, I couldn't stop looking. Exactly three times in the last ten years, I have felt compelled to watch videos of 9/11. It was a little bit like torture, because once I started down that path, I couldn't stop until it felt like my soul had been shredded. At least one of those times, I really freaked out a friend of mine. I bought the movie on DVD, but to this day, I can't watch it.

And I don't understand why I feel this way. The events of that day have somehow latched on to my heart, and sometimes, all I have to do is hear the words 'September 11' and I'm back to how I felt that day. All the fear, all the confusion, all the horror at watching bodies falling a hundred stories. It's like it happened yesterday.

I was mildly patriotic before September 11, 2001. Now, the force of my devotion to the United States of America sometimes scares me. I have to reign myself in because my thoughts are decidedly unChristian. I hate the people who did this because they stole from me a great deal of my capacity to feel compassion. Yet I must also love them and pray for their compatriots who are still trying to kill my countrymen. Sometimes I hate my country. I can't begin to tell you how difficult that is.

I'm angry.

I don't know when or if I'll stop being angry. I ask God every day for peace in my heart.

I fail a lot.

I wonder sometimes if this is how my grandparents felt after Pearl Harbor. In the 1970 film Tora Tora Tora!, following the surprise attack in Hawaii, Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto says, "I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve." It's unlikely the Admiral actually said this, though there are apocryphal accounts of similar phraseology. However, I can't help but feel that the sentiment is incredibly accurate when applied to me on that awful day ten years ago.

I woke up.

I woke up to a world that has been steeped in sin and evil since Adam and Eve decided to trust a snake over God. I woke up to a world that sees genocide as an acceptable practice as long as it's done in secret. I woke up to a world that has no problem killing unborn children because they are unwanted, senior citizens because they are a drain on society, each other because we can. I woke up to a world that worships at the altars of tolerance and political correctness. I woke up to a world that deserves every horrifying thing that happens to it and more.

And yet...

Three years ago, I felt God's calling to become a missionary. I thought it was ridiculous. I was like Jonah, ready for God to punish Nineveh. He wanted me to forgive them? Ludicrous! Who does that? Why bother saving these people?

But He saved me. And I KNOW what I am.

Because His Love Compels Me - I must take up my cross and follow Him.
Because His Love Compels Me - I must love others as He loves me.
Because His Love Compels Me - I must extend the mercy and grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ unto the nations, making disciples and baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.

September Radio

Beauty

I recently decided to read through the Bible again chronologically. This is one of my favorite ways to read the Bible all the way through - gee... wonder why?

Anyway, I'm in Job again, which I love. Job is one of my favorite books. It's so depressing on the surface, but it also has so many fantastic descriptions of God. For example:

"Behold, blessed is the one whom God reproves;
therefore despise not the discipline of the Almighty.
For he wounds, but he binds up;
he shatters, but his hands heal."

That's Job 5:17-18. These verses describe many of my encounters with God. There have been so many wounds that I didn't understand, and yet amazing things came from the experience.

And I've been shattered. Completely. Pieces of me were flung across the world like brittle stars strewn through the heavens, my soul ripping into tiny bits, like I was creating a horcrux, hiding it away so that nothing could ever hurt me...


Even then, I could feel God's fingers picking up each piece and fitting my soul and my heart back together. It wasn't the same as what I had created for myself - there were pieces that no longer fit, and sometimes, the shards would continue to cut. There are chipped edges and cracks revealing ugly scars, and maybe even a few seeping wounds still, but I'm not the one putting the pieces together anymore.

And if God is the One healing you, how can you be anything but beautiful?




I guess this went beyond a mere Scripture lesson...

August is ending?! Better get a post out!

This is going to be incredibly random.

I have sat down half a dozen times over the past couple of weeks to write something here. I even considered (briefly) writing a post while in the car on the way to Pennsylvania, but I would have had to do it on paper and then rewrite it here, and there are few things I abhor more than doing a job twice for no good reason.

Thusly.

I've also had some trouble because there were a lot of things I could have said, but nothing I really felt needed to be said. I've been in this weird mood, lately. Well, it's not weird to me - I've had it many times before. But a lot of people (or just the few I've allowed to experience it) find it disconcerting at the least. Personally, I kind of enjoy it. It's one of my more feisty-yet-fun-and-fancy-free moods. It only comes out one or two times a year, usually when I've been very stressed out and I'm just tired of putting up with everything.

The only thing I don't like about this mood is that I can be really annoying while in it. Also, my pet peeves are elevated to supreme annoyance levels.

Honestly, I'm amazed anyone hangs out with me at all.

Bah. Train of thought has yet again derailed.

I have vacation time now. I've been taking advantage of it, possibly more than I should, but it's addictive. It surprised me how much I really needed it. I went to PA with my parents, which was good, because PA is familiar and comfortable. If Ohio is my Nostalgia State and Indiana is now my Home State, Pennsylvania is definitely my Family State. I've been traveling to PA to visit family for as long as I can remember, so I guess it is only natural to associate the whole place with a feeling of comfort and safety. It's been so fantastic that so many churches in PA have shown an interest in my ministry. It just confirms the warmth I feel in my heart.


My dad is going to be very perturbed that I put this picture on here. But I had to! He was freaking out because Thaddeus Bear was looking at him.



Man, Pennsylvania should hire me to take promotional pictures for them.

It also doesn't hurt that my little corner of Pennsylvania happens to be quite close to several historic sites, including Civil War battlefields.


This pic combines two of my favorite things - large weapons and graveyards.


This cemetery doesn't seem big enough considering it's intended purpose.


Can't stand this pic - it was backlit and I didn't have six hours to wait for the sun to move. Grrr.... The other side came out great.


This seemed like a really small number to us, even counting the other two Unknown plots. Then we realized that the State plots had a lot of Unknown graves as well. So these were the guys that they couldn't identify by State or by name. Very sad.




This is one of my favorite spots at Gettysburg. (Did I forget to mention that's where I was? It should be obvious.) I spend a good portion of my time in Gettysburg on this ridge. Someday, I will work up the nerve to actually walk across the field.

This is a good spot to point out my sometimes conflicting views on the Civil War. We all have the benefit of hindsight, of course, but if you had asked my views of the conflict at the time, I would have been an ardent supporter of the Union. For those of you who believe we are still fighting this war, 1) Get over it, and 2) I am still proudly pro-Union. However, my reasoning now is vastly different from what it would have been in 1861. Had you asked me about secession then, I would have said it was an abomination, and that the South was just covering up the real reason for separation. Today, I still think the South was covering up the real reason for their actions, but I have a more open view on secession. NOT that I'm advocating it (not entirely), but I have a much less idealistic view of the federal government these days. I believe that there are many things that should be under the purview of the state, but the federal government has hijacked them.

Hmm... politics. That should get a reaction.



One thing I love so much about the Civil War is the huge number of weird coincidences and near misses. For this reason, I have always had a soft spot for Brigadier General Lewis Armistead. If you don't know his story, or why his actions on the third day of the Battle of Gettysburg are so significant, feel free to look it up. Or ask me. But I'll probably tell you to look it up.



There was something else I was going to talk about. A lot of things, actually. Suddenly, I can't remember them. Hmm...

Doesn't matter. I have a bunch of pics from Antietam as well, so I'll share them in the next post. I'm sure that one will be random as well.

You are allowed to comment on this, by the way.

State Fair

I am at a loss.

I'm going to talk about the stage collapse at the State Fair. It's probably going to be controversial. I don't know. But it will be an honest reflection of how I feel.

I heard about the collapse the same way I hear about most of my news: Facebook. CNN is usually johnny-on-the-spot with breaking news, but short on facts for at least a half hour. So when I saw the blurb, I clicked the link, got confused because there was no attached story, and then started investigating further. Soon enough, other friends on FB started posting about it - either sending out prayers or attaching links to the news story. I learned what little I could Saturday night and then did what I always do when something like this happens. I said a prayer, closed my computer and went to bed.

There were more posts about it Sunday morning. I read a few as I was getting ready for church, but it seemed to be more of the same. I turned on the radio on my way to church - 92.3 WTTS - and realized that they were "playing them on." It was pretty much a concert of quietest rock songs playing for the victims and their families. And then the DJ started talking about the Red Cross, and how you could go to their website if you were trying to locate a loved one.

This was much bigger than I had thought.

I have never been to the State Fair. I have never really had a desire to go to the State Fair. The closest I will ever get is watching Rogers and Hammerstein's 1945 musical State Fair. It's safe to say that I am not personally invested in this type of social setting.

I had forgotten that a lot of people are.

So I did some more digging. It wasn't hard. All the local websites had news, WTTS has a page dedicated to what happened, and all the national news machines were covering the aftermath. Everyone was covering it from a different angle. The locals were covering it from the witness' point of view. One of the national agencies did a broad sweep of accidents similar to this in recent history. Yet another presented the story from Sugarland's (the band scheduled to play) point of view.

Then I saw the video.

It was innocuously attached to an article on the accident. I clicked it, thinking it was going to be some kind of interview with a witness, because surely, they wouldn't show tha-

Oh.

It got worse. Because I couldn't just watch it once. I watched it again. Trying to see how it started. Trying to hear what people were saying. Following individual people on the ground until they were covered by rigging and tarp.

It's sick.

A few weeks ago, there was a man who reached a little too far for a baseball thrown into the stands at a game. He died. There's a video of that happening that was NOT shown on the news.

So what makes this different? Because more people died? Because it was taken from a distance?

I can't wrap my head around it. Any of it.

My heart is heavy. I will continue to pray for the victims (and that's a whole other discussion) and their families.

But this is the last time I will talk about it.

(This was partially inspired by a blog from Pat Monahan of Train.)

August Radio

Featuring one of our summer interns, and ME in a new role as announcer!!!

Poland, Part Two

We left the English camp on Saturday after the final party. It was a lovely drive to Krakow. When I was in Poland before, we went to Warsaw, which was fabulous, but I've been wanting to go to Krakow for a long time. Not only is it where Oskar Schindler's factory is located, but it is slightly more than an hour away from Oswiecim - or, as it is better known, -

Auschwitz.

I blogged a little bit of my experience there when I returned to the hostel in Krakow. At the time, though, I was still reeling from the sheer emotion of the place. If you read the post, it probably sounded like I was relatively unaffected. I talked about the weather and the logistics, but I never really said how it made me feel. There's a reason for that. A word of advice: don't go to a concentration camp the day before your trip ends. It took a great deal of effort to maintain that intellectual facade until I actually had time to process what I had seen.

This is probably one of the few posts that I will do containing a soundtrack. This is the music that was in my head while I walked the grounds of Birkenau and Auschwitz. The songs are from Schindler's List and The Pianist.



We started at Auschwitz II-Birkenau. Heinrich Himmler, commander of the SS, referred to Birkenau as the place of the "final solution of the Jewish question in Europe." Birkenau was constructed for the specific purpose of easing the burden on Auschwitz I, mainly through the means of extermination. 1.1 million people died in the camp, 90 percent of them Jews.


Looking in from the outside.

I think one of the most surprising things about Birkenau was just how few people we saw there. This was compounded when we went to Auschwitz I and encountered the hundred other people in our tour group. Honestly, it was almost a blessing. It's hard enough to think about what happened there - I really didn't need a ton of other people observing my sorrow.


On the other side of the wall. Most of the people who came through those gates never left - even when they were dead.


Looking back at the entrance from about halfway. The camp was divided between men and women, separated by the tracks.


Part of the remains of Crematorium II. There were eventually four crematoriums at Birkenau. They were demolished by the Nazis before the camp was liberated by the Soviets.


There are several of these pools around the crematoriums. I mentioned before that most prisoners didn't get to leave even when they were dead. Ashes were dumped in these pools, in the river behind the camp or were used as fertilizer for the surrounding fields.



There is a memorial between two of the crematoriums. It is a monument dedicated to everyone who lost their lives. Each stone represents a country that Jews were deported from to Auschwitz.


Part of the sewage plant. At one point, there were more than 90,000 prisoners at Birkenau. There were plans in place to expand the camp. Had the war continued, or the Germans won, it is impossible to determine how many more people would have been murdered.


Off in the distance, you can see the camp entrance. One of the reasons fewer people visit Birkenau is that so little of the camp has been preserved. Well, at least in some people's opinions. Most of the barracks were wood buildings, and many have collapsed. They've rebuilt some of them, but the fireplaces are all that exist of the rest. The crematoriums were also destroyed, and the only other thing still standing is the shower building. Still, I spent two hours there, and it wasn't nearly enough to grasp the scale of everything.


The barracks were designed to hold 52 horses. Instead, they housed up to 400 prisoners.



After Birkenau, we went to Auschwitz I, the original camp. Auschwitz was actually three main camps, including Auschwitz III-Monowitz. Monowitz was a labor camp primarily for IG Farben, but none of the buildings exist today. There were also 45 satellite camps connected to Auschwitz.


The main gate at Auschwitz. Arbeit Macht Frei: Work Makes You Free. When prisoners were first sent to the camp, they believed that maxim. This is not the original sign. You may recall that the original was stolen last year and cut into three parts. It has been recovered, but will likely never be put back over the gate.


The camp was originally a Polish army barracks.


Auschwitz started as a place to put political dissidents, mostly Polish prisoners and Soviet POWs. Gradually, more and more 'undesirables' were sent there, including gypsies and Jews. There were five other extermination camps, all in Poland, but most of the deported Jews were sent first to Auschwitz. They came literally from all over Europe.

In one of the buildings, there was a model of a crematorium. I'm not going to post the pictures of it. One of my constant internal battles was over whether or not to take pictures. On the one hand, it felt wrong to take pictures, like I was allowing evil to perpetuate. On the other hand, evil does perpetuate if men are not made to see what it leads to. People need to know what happened. The Holocaust was real. I came to the conclusion that it would be more wrong to give in to my personal discomfort than to let my pictures speak truth.

I'm going to tell you now, though. It only gets worse from here.


These cannisters held Zyklon B. Each one was used in the gas chambers.


There were two places where we were not allowed to take pictures. The first was in another room of this building. I was curious - everything we saw was horrifying, so what could be even worse that we were asked not to photograph it. The answer nearly made me vomit. The room was probably fifteen feet by seventy-five feet. I don't want to know how deep.

It was filled with human hair.

The Nazis had told the Jews that they were being relocated. So when the people were sent to Auschwitz, they brought their lives with them. And the Nazis stole everything. There is a room full of suitcases. A room full of toothbrushes. A room full of pots and pans. A room full of shoes. And a room full of hair.

The second place we weren't allowed to take pictures was the basement of Building 11. This was the building where the 'trials' would take place. It was also the building where people were tortured. Just because. There are three types of rooms in the basement: Standing cells, where four men would be placed in a square foot of space overnight with no recourse but to stand; Starvation cells, where prisoners were given neither food nor water until they died; and Dark cells, airtight rooms where prisoners were kept until they used up all the oxygen in the room.

I didn't want to take pictures of any of those.


Right next to Building 11 was the Death Wall. Once their trial was over, prisoners were taken to the wall, told to kneel, and then shot in the back of the head. Thousands were executed at this wall.


Thousands more were killed here. This crematorium was built as a test - it is the model for the crematoriums that were built at Birkenau, though those were larger. It is essentially three rooms. In the first, people were stripped and told that they would have a shower. In the second, they were gassed. In most cases, it took less than fifteen minutes. In the third, their bodies were stuffed into furnaces and burned.

I hesitated here more than anywhere when taking the photo. Death permeates the walls. It doesn't take much imagination to hear the cries of the thousands of terrified people who were murdered so efficiently. Ghostly fingers scrabble at your skin, pulling your hair, each touch demanding justice. Each silenced voice begs for the chance to make himself known.


By the time I reached this point, I was feeling very unChristian. Rudolf Höss, the first commandant of Auschwitz, was hanged on these gallows on April 16, 1947. They are right next to the crematorium. I was reminded a little of how I felt when I heard Osama bin Laden had been killed. I have to confess, though, that I felt no remorse at all over the death of Höss. His house was maybe 200 feet from the chimneys of the crematorium. At Nuremberg, he bragged that he had killed 3 million Jews. No. I felt no remorse for him.

I felt guilty. How does something like this happen? How do so many people look the other way? How do you reach a point where genocide seems like a viable option?

Oddly enough, the only question I never asked was why? I never asked God how He could let something like this happen. I know the answer. God didn't put those people there. God gave His Son for them. But He didn't just die for the prisoners. He died for the SS. Do you know how hard it is to accept that? We tell ourselves all the time that there is no difference between a big sin and a little one. But we don't believe it. We look at our lives, and we tell ourselves, "Well at least I never killed someone. At least I didn't steal. At least I didn't rape."

And yet... I see a place like Auschwitz, and I realize just how little it would take to actually reach that point. All of those people who lived near the camps, who told the Allies they had no idea what was happening less than a mile away... We are those people. We live next door to sin. We like to party with sin on the weekend. We like to dip our toe in, just to see what the fuss is all about. But at least we don't go all the way.




All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.