Memorial Day Musings...

So it's Memorial Day. Theoretically a holiday of barbecues and picnics.

Unless of course you grew up in a long line of military and then you sit and think. It's different this year after loosing my beloved grandfather who was a veteran of World War II and Korea.

So today, I salute the veterans in and out of my family. I give you this list of the men and women I know and respect. Thank you. All of you.

Irvin Banta (Grandpa -- World War II and Korea)
Robert Stone (Grandpa -- Korea)
Charles D. Banta (Dad)
Irvin J. Banta (Uncle)
Marie C. Wilson (Aunt)
Dana Griffith (Uncle)

Friends:
John Hakes (Korea and Vietnam)
Steve Snyder
Wayne McWhorter
Steve Mitchell
John Stauffer
David Carpenter
Danny Catt
Randall Keller

These are just the names that I am thinking of right now.

I'm defined by the veterans in my life. As a daughter of warriors on all sides, this defines me.

So thanks, all of you. And don't forget to thank a veteran today!

Insecurities

So I am here. Looking in the mirror, I am completely different from one year ago. Curled hair, confident look, different clothes...

The thing is, sometimes I feel like the same girl that graduated from Brown County High School in Nashville and wants to hide...

*shrugs*

While I'm confident in my life, there are times that old self comes crashing in on me.

It has recently. When I have a conversation with someone, I second guess it for two days. I make myself miserable thinking I have made a complete idiot of myself and replay every moment in my head. Then when the person doesn't speak to me the next day, I call myself twenty forms of stupid and try to figure out what happened.

Irrational? Ummm yes. I know it's irrational. Just too many people in my hometown, in my old school would use MY words against me. My innocence and my trust. Guys especially. Made me distrustful of all guys except my brothers (and probably why I adopted so many of them).

How do I stop this? I'm trying to break old habits in interpersonal relationships here and sometimes I think I am making progress. But then I find myself going back into my old habits.

Who I was does indeed make me who I am. But do I really have to keep being THAT person who is so insecure that she wants to hide away from site?

Thirty years and sometimes I feel like I have learned nothing.

Desert Rose

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7OGieXHM5g

Ignore the very 80's/90's look but the song...

I loaded a good friend's Mp3 player recently and added this song to both of our playlists.

I don't know what is up lately, but I've started thinking a bit more about what is behind me and what has made me who I am today.

This song was my theme after I left Indiana University. When I felt like my dreams were dying and I didn't want to go back to my hometown. Sister Seniour called me "our Esther" in those days because of an IBC musical at Music Fest (where the line that got me crying was "God why can't I serve you where I want to serve you?")

The desert rose, the idea of something beautiful coming out of some of the dryest points of life is just amazing to me. And that's the nickname that I gave myself at so many points. Amazingly enough, I am now literally, living in the high desert and blooming in a spot where I thought would kill me if you'd asked me ten years ago.

God is good. He's the God of second chances and third chances and fourth chances. In spite of my rebellious streak a mile wide, he chooses to use me here in Idaho. He CHOOSES to see me through his blood and not for all my faults and failures, my thoughtless tongue and my impetous nature.

And for now, that's enough.

Golden Green days...

Golden as in golden sunlight flowing from the sky. Green as in thick green grass on the ground. (Major watering considering this is high desert. *Smiles*) So it's golden green days as far as I'm concerned.

My second year of school here is drawing to a close. I grow more and more in love with my job and my church and my students every day! Life is good here in Idaho, rough at times but good.

There's friends surrounding me that for whatever reason love me no matter what and I'm looking forward to a fantastic summer.

Yes, it will be different from last year -- no Bishop Rice sneaking up on me every day when I go check my e-mail. But it is going to be a golden time here in Idaho Falls.

Life changes, life goes on. I love it here.

Where Was I When?

It's truly amazing to think back on things sometimes. Even more so when you are teaching it.

Between teaching the post World War II history to eighth grade and going through a bit of a Billy Joel phase of late (We Didn't Start the Fire) it's been incredible to see what I have witnessed so far in my relatively short lifespan and how much things have changed.

I probably bore my eighth graders talking about what I remember. I was in fifth grade when the Berlin Wall fell. Boom, just like that. One day we were watching a movie about escaping over it (Anyone remember that film? I think it was a Disney thing, this guy went over the wall in a hot air balloon) and three days later there they were taking it apart on the cover of Weekly Reader (our fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Mayfield got a piece of the wall from a German exchange student that stayed with her, I HELD a piece of history in my hands.).

I remember the Soviet Union coming apart and the ensuing civil wars in the smaller countries. I met a member of the Afghani royal family (some minor member) who fled to the US (And Nashville, IN of all places) because of the Soviet Occupation.

I remember being on the way to church and sitting in the parking lot at the Old Goshen church when we learned that we had started bombing Iraq for the first time.

I cried when the Challenger exploded. I was scared when they started deploying troops to Iraq. I was bored and outraged during the Impeachment trials -- and rolled my eyes at the people around me. (It's never a really good time to be an ultra conservative at Indiana University LOL)

But I also remember being shocked when my friends got pregnant in high school and when some admitted to being sexually active even though some waited until high school.

I watched friends take marijuana and LSD (Yes, the drugs of the 60's were the popular ones in Brown County). I watched a brilliantly talented musician friend burn her brain out in LSD in so many ways. I could do nothing but watch and pray.

A friend died in a car accident and another died of cancer, but after graduation I survived a car accident that should've killed me.

Yeah, that took a toll for a very long time.

I'm not sure if I even have a point to this blog. Just so much dead space going through my head the last few days. I'm working on making my new life here in Idaho, even now over a year later, but sometimes just the smallest portion of grief can get to me so easily.

I don't know why I am still alive at times. Car wrecks and somewhat reckless decisions could pretty much have been the end of me several times, but I know that God has a plan for my life.

But what about the others? I'm no worthier than Mike Arteoga, than Linda Lowry, or Jeff Alvey. In fact, I see how many times I fail day by day and wonder how long before God says "Ok, this is enough, this girl is nuts!"

But the grace of God is so much bigger than what I am. Bigger than my zany stupidity and my ability to trip over my own feet. Bigger than the hurtful things that I can do to people.

Who am I to be in leadership? Just a faulty human woman. A daughter of Eve as C.S. Lewis and Marcus both say. Brilliantly socially awkward at some times and socially adaptable at others.

This blog has no real purpose, but I send it out into a questioning world. I can't believe that I'm not the only one that's ever had these rambling thoughts.

Belonging

Two songs today just stick out in my mind:

"Still you hear me when I'm calling, lord you catch me when I'm falling and you show me who I am, I am yours"

and

"Why are you searching for love? Why are you still trying as if I'm not enough?"

I guess this has come up in the past few days, not because of any circumstance in particular, but a lot of what ifs in general.

As much as I adore Pastor Craig and Sister Andrea, I do still miss Bishop and Sister Rice. I miss the fatherly type of advice I get from Bishop Rice.

In many ways, I am still growing into adulthood I guess. The feeling of being independent instead of being in my (to borrow a Lakota word ) "tipospaye" (I think that's how you spell it) or my large extended native family. The family that you know will always take care of you no matter what.

And yes, this is far more traditional then modern society. I am used to a father figure over me and a huge amount of interdependence. When I moved out here I had to start rebuilding a network, a family. My church has become that to me. The problem was is that I did depend on Bishop and Sister Rice for advice, especially for that which I need more of parent advice.

I guess its because certain things have crossed my mind lately. I'm very old fashioned in a lot of ways and don't believe that a career is the be all end all of my life. I also am a firm believer in courtship rather than dating and that means being under submission to authority. And while Dad isn't here, that is Pastor Craig which feels weird, but is ok.

There's a lot of steps I take, that I wish my family were here for, but they can't be. And sometimes it does feel like I don't belong at church because i have no family. I just remember how we would take someone in when Pastor had families pray together in Bean Blossom.

Thankfully that doesn't happen often here. Because it would be a problem. I am a leader in the church and I am on my own.

But who do I belong to? As my cousin reminded me today, I am a princess, a daughter of the king.

And I am his.

Make Me a Servant

Bishop Seniour always said that the difference in the prodigal son from when he left and when he came back was that when he left his attitude was "give me" and when he came back, his attitude was "make me".

Whenever I hear the song "When God Ran" or I read that story, I remember that comment from my very first UPC Pastor, a man that still influences my life to this day. The attitude of the prodigal son "make me a servant".

I guess that that song and that thought is what's in my head and heart today as I go through my day. I had a conversation with a friend last night about being a servant and serving people.

How do I serve a person without putting them on a pedestal? Or do you? And how do you serve without demeaning yourself?

I see imperfections in people, believe me, I usually prefer my dog and tarantula to most humans. But at the same time, I know I am out here first and foremost to help with a ripe harvest of souls in Idaho Falls. That I am a servant of God and my church.

Serving my pastor is the easiest sometimes. Making coffee, making sure the sound system is on when church starts. Doing my best in the sound booth although it is not my favorite job in the world. Lifting him and his wife up in prayer every day. And never down talking him ever.

But how do I serve others in the church? How do I build up the other leadership? Male or female how do I serve without seeming that I am demeaning myself.

I'm straight up not a feminist. I believe that God created men and women differently with different strengths and weaknesses. We are wired differently to complement each other. And a man is the leader, a woman is not. (But a man is a complete idiot not to listen to the advice of a woman and consider it because she will see something differently than he does and perhaps something he missed)

The thing is, I am figuring out how to build up the other leaders in church. For someone with my views it may seem as a complete contradiction that I am a department head, but I am under submission to my pastor which makes all the difference in the world.

So how do I serve? How do I build up without tearing down? How can I encourage someone without nagging?

I guess that's a new journey of discovery for Sister Naomi as she enters her 30th year.