thankful list | september

01. Chrome (the Google browser).
02. Angry Birds.
03. making our "cash flow plan," i.e. budget, really work.
04. after 6+ years, a new MacBook Pro (paid for via sinking fund).
05. community group growth.
06. seeing lives changing thanks to FPU.
07. helping Ian organize his Gmail; yes, I'm a nerd.
08. Ian's month-ish break in studying for LAREs.
09. fall weather and the wardrobe that accompanies it.
10. caramelized onion+prosciutto+Gruyere pizza.
11. Skype dates.
12. crossing term life insurance off our to-do list.
13. my home inspiration book, i.e. the IKEA catalog.
14. our new community group curriculum (version 2.0).
15. SCRIPTschool. And Erin taking it with me.
16. our slow and steady move towards less stuff.
17. Ian nailing homemade pasta thanks to this book.
18. K-State's win over the U.
19. our IKEA desk chair.
20. the [REUNION] picnic.
21. Trader Joe's pita puffs (not to be confused with pita chips).
22. dinner and design shop talk with Gerald and Mel.

"It's just a flesh wound."

We've mentioned before how we're working through the Dave Ramsey plan. We're on step 3 of 7: debt is gone and we're filling out our $1,000 emergency fund to 3-6 months worth of expenses.

The plan also includes other important financial tasks, so we're in the process of getting 20-year term life insurance. Which involves a basic medical exam: medical history, immediate family medical history, blood pressure, height/weight, and blood and urine samples.

Ian schedules our appointment for 6:30 Friday morning, so we won't have to fast all day. The alarm goes off at 5:40. Do you know how hard it is to shower, standing under running water, while you're trying to wait to provide samples? The medical assistant is running a little late, so I play Angry Birds to distract myself while Ian is a grownup and reads the news (on our new Mac!).

Natasha arrives a little before 7 and I make a beeline to the bathroom with the little cup and vials while Ian gets started with his paperwork. Forty minutes later we're almost done. I'm signing papers at the counter while Ian sits down for his blood sample. And then it's my turn. I should mention here that I get a little anxious about this. I can feel the needle the whole time and it's a little unnerving. So I steel myself and sit down. Natasha makes small talk to keep me calm, and Ian sits on the kitchen counter and makes faces to distract me. I'm doing great.

And then it happens. Or rather doesn't. No blood. She digs, but only a little. "I'm so sorry. The needle might be dull. I'll try again with a new one." Professional, friendly, caring. Ian breaks eye contact to check out what's happening on my arm.

The back of my neck goes cold. "I'll just sit back and breathe a little."

The next thing I know Ian's concerned face is hovering over me and Natasha is fanning me with our medical papers as I'm lying on our (not-cleaned-in-two-weeks) kitchen floor. We don't have juice, so Ian starts finger-feeding me honey after he grabs a pillow from the living room.

"It's a good thing you're light!" Natasha consoles me with a story about a larger man who also passed out on her, while his very pregnant wife watched helplessly from their sofa. Ian feeds me chopped up banana bits.

After a few minutes resting on the floor, Natasha asks if I want to try again or do it another time. But I want to get this knocked off our list. "Do I have to get up?" I don't. One poke and it's over. She packages our samples (we should hear back in a couple weeks), tells us to call her if I have any problems, and heads out.

I hope they don't need to run any blood tests at my annual exam in a couple weeks.

"When the world spins crazy"

Yesterday was normal. We went to [REUNION], Ian studied for his licensure exams, we went out for ice cream with John and Erin, and had our every-other-weekend Burn Notice double feature double date with Brett and Emily.

Yesterday was different. We remembered, Ian watched old footage online, and we talked about where we were ten years ago when we first heard. Ian was eating cereal and watching TV before school when the coverage began. I was in class and couldn't believe the odds that two planes would accidentally hit the World Trade Center. I got to my next class and my accounting teacher told us, "You have lost your innocence" — I knew then it was no accident.

We were young, and far away in Kansas. I don't think it ever seemed quite real until we saw Ground Zero on our trip to NYC three years ago. And now, in Boston, it is closer than ever. We took time to remember those who were needlessly lost, those who sacrificed everything for others, and those who continue to serve. At [REUNION], we also prayed a prayer written ten years ago in response to 9/11.

“When the world spins crazy,
spins wild and out of control,
spins toward rage and hate and violence,
spins beyond our wisdom and nearly
beyond our faith,
When the world spins to chaos as it does now among us...
We are glad for sobering roots that provide ballast in the storm
So we thank you for our rootage in communities of faith,
for many fathers and mothers
who have believed and trusted
as firm witnesses to us,
for their many stories of wonder, awe and healing.
We are glad this day in this company
for the rootage of scripture,
for its daring testimony,
for its deep commands,
for its exuberant tales.
Because we know that as we probe deep into this text...
clear to its bottom,
we will find you hiding there,
we will find you showing yourself there,
speaking as you do,
governing,
healing,
judging.
And when we meet you hiddenly,
we find the spin not so unnerving,
because from you the world again has a chance
for life and sense and wholeness.
We pray midst the spinning, not yet unnerved,
but waiting and watching and listening,
for you are the truth that contains all our spin. Amen.”
—Walter Brueggemann

Yesterday, today, and always, in this broken world, may this be our prayer.

Irene: our before & after

Last summer, when my family came to visit, we purchased a membership to the New England Aquarium, allowing us to bypass the long line. And, we reasoned, we only had to go one more time to make it pay for itself. We did, kind of: I took Stewie. Four tickets not purchased, membership worth it. But Ian and I had only gone together once, and Ian loves aquariums. With an impending expiration date of August 31, we knew we had to squeeze our final aquarium date in on Saturday before Irene hit.

Ian spent the morning studying for his upcoming LAREs, and then we hopped on the T. For two and a half hours, we wandered past our favorite exhibits (penguins, jellies, and the giant ocean tank) and spent some time at the new shark and ray touch tank.

I have a new favorite aquatic animal: cownose rays. How can you resist a perpetually smiling creature that enjoys interacting with humans?

For the exhibit, the aquarium clips their stingers (as painless as clipping fingernails). You place your hand in the water near the edge, palm down, and they swim under your hands as they school around the tank. One even turned around to get an extra touch from Ian. There's plenty of room for the rays to avoid visitors, but most are eager to glide under waiting hands.

After we finished our circuit, we headed to the McArdles' going away party (Phil is going to serve in a New Hampshire church and eventually lead a new location for them). It was a great send off, but the first Irene downpour hit as we were leaving.

The next morning, we woke up to howling winds, thanked REUNION for wisely cancelling the gatherings, and fell back asleep.

Irene left Boston in time for us to still have community group, so at 6:45pm, we finally left the apartment. And immediately noticed the damage from a fallen tree just down the street. The tree was already gone, but the aftermath remained.

Several scrapes ran down the side of the building, but the tree only broke one window and smashed a few fence sections. The sidewalk and street did not fare as well. The granite curb, asphalt paving, and sidewalk uprooted along with the tree, jutting up at strange angles. We were extra-thankful our only issue was a hiccup in electricity.

And just like that, Irene was gone. Now we just have to eat through our emergency preparedness Clif bar stash...

Friday Night Photobooth

Friday night, Ryan and Tyra threw together a community group + friends night full of tacos, photobooth, and fun.

Maybe a little too much fun...