Amazed by God - and deer

So, my husband traveled to South Africa for a few weeks (Jan. 23-Feb. 7), essentially providing 2+ weeks of alone time. While he was sunning himself with 80-112 degree temperatures, I was bundling up and shoveling the driveway. It's not the first time we've ever been apart - he has gone traveled to Ukraine, Argentina/South America (twice!) and now South Africa since we've known each other. But this was our first mega-trip apart since we've been married.

We prepared for the trip as best we could. Did you know it's impossible to find a "safari hat" in South Dakota the middle of January? I tried. I was sort-of jealous that he was going to explore the world, and I was left to explore my own thoughts and emotions. He was getting outfitted for the adventure, while I...wasn't. It was kind of hard.

I love that he and I exchange daily encouragements to eachother when we will be away. I wrote a super-sappy card and a flip book filled with photos of us. He left me an envelope for each day he would be away, and signed every one "ROAR" and "YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, ALAINA." He's good to me, what can I say.

But being alone does something to me. Some people crave alone time (mothers, primarily earning that), but usually not newlwyweds. And since I haven't exactly built up a core group of buddies in this town yet, I felt doubly alone. No job to keep me distracted (ok, some freelance work, which ended up being a lot of work), no gal-pals to escape to. So, I did what I did best: Traveled.

The first weekend he was away I went to visit my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew in Minneapolis. While i was there I quilted two quilts and visited my former employer. It was a grand time. I came home and got stranded in Morton, MN due to blizzarding wintry conditions. That was blow #1. I made it home a day later, only to fall mysteriously ill - so ill I went to the ER room (my first time!). The mystery bug disappeared. Then I went to my parents house in northern MN, quilted with my mom and Becky, visited Becky's classroom, and was an all-around goof. It was nice to be home and showered with love. Back on the road I went, and it felt good to be home. But, I still had time for one more trip. So I went to visit my husband's family. That may seem kind of strange to folks, but I was able to deliver gifts (which I love to give!) and it was 110% worth the time I spent there because I was able to get to know each person much more deeply.

But that's not what this blog post is about. While staying with my mother-in-law in Hastings, NE, I was able to watch deer pass through her yard. I was awestruck watching these beautiful creatures (pests, some may say!), and the gentleness in their every movement. Graceful, you could say. I spotted them one night, and then the following morning. We watched "Bruce Almighty" that night, and I was reminded that God sends his little love messages to us (as identified by how Bruce (Jim Carrey) tries to win Jennifer Aniston back to him by carving every single tree on her running path). Those deer I was seeing were little love-note reminders to me, from a very loving God.

It was so simple. I'm continually amazed at the small and simple ways that God conveys his love to me. Ever-since, I've seen herds of deer - everywhere. They looked like a bunch of cows just outside of town one foggy morning. Or how they nibbled in the feed bunks at that cattle ranch I was at.

So open your eyes and look for the love-notes God is placing all around.

Venting

Today, I just need to get some things off my chest. Otherwise I feel like I'll implode with everything that's going on. To write it out, so I can write-it out of my heart and I can focus on the things that matters. Here goes...

• I hate that my brother is sick with squamous cell skin cancer. Ok, he's not sick with it, but he's battling it. He's half-way through the treatment of it, which consists of radiation every day and 3 round of chemotherapy. It hasn't been easy for him. And I've always seen my brother strong. What's worse, is how it's affecting his family. Everyone from his wife, son, parents and yes, even me. When you battle cancer, it affects everyone.
• I'm moving from Bloomington, MN to Brookings, SD and have no time to pack. There are about two empty boxes in my possession and the moving crew will be here April 18 to take it to its new home. This moving also means a job change. I love my job, desperately. Friends have heard me refer to it as my 'dream job.' There's something bitter about having to leave your dream job at age 28. This economy means job prospects are slim and I've yet to find my next dream job...
  

Here's what I want to dwell on.

• It's amazing how much family, friends and coworkers pull together when there's an illness. I saw this at a young age (10) when my dad was in a serious tractor accident. All the neighbors helped up put up hay, work cattle, clean the house and put meals on the table. I still do not know the words to say when something tragic happens, and I hope I never learn those words. It pulls a family closer, and it makes them rely more heavily on their faith.
• I'm moving away to be married!

I'm sure I'll add more, but for now, this is what is overwhelming me.

Difficult conversation

Here's just a snippet of how God worked in my life today. Eric and I became engaged on April 5, 2008. Very exciting! I waited one week to tell the news to my coworkers because I wasn't sure how to handle the news. You see, Eric lives in another town (Brookings, SD) and we've had a long-distance relationship. Marriage means someone would be moving. So we waited a week to have our plan of attack.

Since April, we've had a wedding date in mind, and begun exploring it. The last few weeks its been on my heart to sit down and talk with my boss about my future plans. It's not as easy as saying, "I'm quitting my job!" because I love this job. Yes, it's my dream job. And Eric is working at his dream job too. So one of us would have to give it up to be with the other. I determined a long time ago that I would leave my job because living without Eric in my life, isn't really life at all.

This week, I determined I needed to talk to my boss about my plans. Friends told me not to share my news with anyone at work because they would immediately replace me. I didn't feel that would be the case, but still, I waited. I've really begun praying about this conversation, and infact, said a few prayers this morning about it! So it surprised me when my boss happened by my office and asked me if I had plans for lunch. This isn't a regular occurence, and I can count on one hand the number of times he and I have gone out to eat alone. This happenstance, as some may view it, made my heart jump into my throat - I knew I had a unique opportunity to share my plans, but I didn't to talk about it.

So we had lunch. And I told him that Eric and I had set a date (May 1, 2009 for all those interested). And that I planned to move to Brookings once we're married. And that I'd be open to options about keeping my job, because hey - I love my job.

And my boss is very happy for me. He always has been. I'm very lucky to have such an understanding boss (and talented, to boot!). I'm just feeling exposed, and vulnerable. It was the most difficult discussion I've ever had.

That deer in the headlight look

I think I know the full meaning of "that deer in the headlight look." Oh sure, I've traveled enough to ambush many unsuspecting wildlife attempting to cross man's civilization, but last night's event tops them all.

It was raining in the Metro area. Enough so that softball was cancelled (boo-hiss!) and everyone made plans to stay snuggly and dry inside. Not me. I made sure to get my 5-mile run in for the day. Donning a neon green shirt, blue shorts and cap, I hit the door. It was only raining softly.

A few weeks back (see my last post), I had encountered a deer grazing near an apartment complex along South Lyndale. Well, as I neared the end of Lyndale, heading down a great big hill that separate's Missisippi's flood plain from development, out popped this beautiful doe. She was easy to see among the brilliant green leaves and slightly damp, heavy air - plus she was reddish-brown, more like Red Angus than doe-skin. It look my breath away.

The doe was crossing from one side of the road to the other (closer to I-35W, the poor beast!). It bounded out of the wood with a mission, but came to an abrupt stop as it saw me panting my way down the hill. She turned to retreat, but stood long enough to try and figure out what I was. We got within 10 feet of each other, each locked in a calming staredown. She leapt back into the wood, took two or three steps, and paused to look at me once more.

By the time I reached my turnaround (when I hit the river), I was silently thanking God for the beautiful and unexpected gifts he gives me. Just outside my window as I type this, a small bird came and sat on the ledge, twittering and peering in on me. It's so good to be alive and to be sensitive to the smallest of details.

$5/hr. stress relief

I just couldn't bear it anymore. The Twin Cities got hit with about 12 in. of snow over Easter, and it didn't melt. Come Monday, I was sitting in my office perplexed as to why I couldn't get motivated to write and overall feeling helpless. So I took the afternoon off from work and visited Afton Alps - stress relief for only $5/hr.

The weather was nice, about 40, but there was a brisk wind that nipped you while riding the lift. I spent my time in the Highlands, a sweet part of Afton that has a culvert-style tunnel, rollers and plenty of open country to experiement with jumps, 360s and speed. In places the snow was courduroy, perfect for me to work on my carving. I described the snow as butter, soft and easy to carve, which gave me a great deal of confidence in my snowboarding ability. In some places the snow was so soft that I couldn't turn.

While working on my 360s (effective edges) I fell into 3-4-in. of "slush" just like a snow cone. At times I tried to jib - getting up a birch tree near a lift in the back - but failed miserably and didn't leave the snow. You know you're having a good time when you faceplant right in front of the chairlift. Or when the liftie asks you if you have dinner plans (response, "Haven't even thought that far ahead, thanks, but no thanks.").

One query I have: What stunts can be pulled on the lip? I made many good approachs, but didn't know what to do when I got there. I think some of my stunts could have been classified as Ollies, but having no verifiable witness except the liftie watching me, I can't be 100% sure. If it sounds like I'm progressing in the world of boarding, don't jump to conclusions - I'm still doing speed checks before jumps and rollers - lest someone call me a poser. No - yesterday was a true day of just working on my skills in hopes to be better.

If you can't follow the terms (highlighted in "calf scours" color), I sugget you brush up on your lingo by clicking here.

Personal highlight and future snowboarding tip: Bring along an index card with a meaningful scripture verse you'd like to memorize. I brought 1 Peter 5:6-9 with me and have it down pat.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's might hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxieties on him because he cares for you. Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith because you know that your brothers throughout the world and undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

Joy in confessing?

Driving home late last night, I phoned two friends. The first my boyfriend, Eric, the second, my best friend Becky. I was calling to confess - I was in the wrong place, with the wrong people and I had violated trust and liberty given to me.

Before calling, I was wrestling with my options before God.

• Option #1: Confess to God, don't tell anyone else of my goof-up.
  
• Option #2: Confess to God, tell best-friend.
  
• Option #3: Confess to God, boyfriend and best friend.
  

I chose Option #3. In that decision making process, I didn't have a hard time telling God what I'd done wrong. It didn't cause me any particular grievance or pain because, hey, the bible tells me God forgives. It was the other two I was worried about - maybe they wouldn't forgive.

It's hard to tell people you messed up. It's difficult to get down on your knees and tell them the truth, the cold, sometimes painful truth. It's even more scary holding out for the other person's response. But yet, there's joy in it. Instead of hiding behind sarcasm and lies, you step out into the light. At first it's cold, lonely and all-to revealing being in the light. But eventually it warms you.

And that's where I am this morning - anticipating the warmth of truth all the while not trying to listen to the "You're not worthy" comments flooding my brain. Any offers of hope or related stories?