Talking To My Phone

     I've noticed lately a habit that I don't like.  It's a common habit, I think, resulting in some unseemly conduct, especially among younger generations.  I have termed this habit "Talking To My Phone."  When I'm texting someone, or messaging them, or commenting on something, I've taken to simply talking, rather than talking to him or her, to that person specifically. 
     Now, this does mean each of my messages very accurately conveys my thoughts and, in a way, my tone of thinking.  Actually, it's very similar to the way I write on this blog.  For other people, who perhaps don't have a cordial "tone" of thought, this may produce rather nastier texts.  I think this is why we're always warned to conduct deep conversations, or conversations that are possibly hurtful, in person, because it is so much easier to say rude things over the internet.  Rude messages, in my opinion, arise from people not censoring their thoughts as they would in person; people don't censor as they would in person because they aren't in person, they're talking to their phones.
     However, I would go even farther than "make sure you don't say rude things over the internet."  I would say we need to consider how we're talking to each person using our electronic devices, even when the conversation is light and pleasant.  When we speak in person, we alter our behaviours depending on the other person's personality.  Not that we wear masks, simply that we may be more talkative with one person, more reserved with another.  Yet this gets lost when we aren't face to face.  Perhaps that's a good thing - we get to see different sides of one another - but I think it takes with it some of the individuality of each relationship.  
     I've decided to try (no gaurantee on success, this is only a few weeks old) to imagine each person as I text him or her.  I can often visualise a person's facial expressions, even call to mind what someone would sound like in speaking the words of the message.  When I remember to do this, it has, thus far, made a significant difference in my final sent message.  Perhaps it's also because I'm taking more time to devise each text, but I think I'm responding more to the person than to the words on my phone.  And I think that's a good thing. 

The Best Vacation Ever

     So I'm about halfway through my summer vacation, now, and I've pretty much decided that this is the best summer I've ever had and that this summer probably will hold that record for a while.  I'm not saying it's perfect, with every day better than the last, but I seem to have struck the balance between busy and relaxation that works for me.  Below is a list of what I think makes this a beautiful summer:

     1. Get a job/be productive.  One of the things I think ruins a vacation is boredom.  Vacation boredom is why I love the South African school schedule we were on: 3 months school, 1 month holiday, repeat.  However, if you can keep yourself busy with a good summer job (especially if it's one you enjoy) that boredom will be a lot longer in coming.  As for being productive, this is around-the-home stuff: college/scholarship applications, cooking, cleaning, organizing, community organizations, etc.  
     2. Be lazy. That said, vacation is supposed to be relaxing.  Only allot yourself so much to do that when you feel like being lazy, you can be lazy.  Obviously, this is in lesser amounts.

     3. Exercise.  You should do this year round, so don't slack off in the summer.  Much.  For more than a couple weeks at a time.  And have fun with exercising!  Don't use that machine every day for 30 minutes... borrrrring.  Pick up a new water sport, or run outside, turning down whichever side street you come to!
     4. Spend time outside.  Summer, unless you live someplace ridiculously hot, is a great time to go outside.  I've pretty much taken over caring for my mom's herb garden, and even the normally tedious chore of weeding is made 100x better when I'm out soaking in the sun.  Read outside.  Nap outside.  Work outside.  And exercising outside is so much nicer than exercising inside.
     5. Do what you love.  Spend time really filling yourself up; for me, this means I take my camera and play.  I read good books (this summer our family is reading classics), I paint, and I spend time in the kitchen.
     6. Build relationships.  This means seeking to hang out with friends, to spend time with siblings, to connect with parents and peers.  Be sociable.  I'm an introvert, so sometimes this is difficult, but it just means sometimes I need to have a day to be antisocial. 
     7. Keep traditions.  For as long as I can remember, my extended family has congregated at a cabin on a lake in northern Minnesota.  I know each of my cousins and aunts and uncles because of this, and I love the lake.  I wouldn't trade this time for anything. 
     8. Start new traditions.  Just because you have good old traditions to keep does not mean you can't start new traditions.  I always wonder when people say one mustn't do something because "it's not tradition."  Tradition had to start somewhere.  So, once a week, have a game night.  Rent a jetski and visit a local body of water.  Something.
     9. Explore.  Going hand in hand with starting new traditions, summer is a perfect time to find new places.  Visit a new restaraunt.  Hike unknown trails.  Take a road trip to wherever you end up.  Or, explore your own town a little bit more. 
     10. Spend time with God.  Most importantly, as always, spend time with the one who set an example for resting, who created the places you'll explore, who is a working, hands-on God, who wants a relationship with you. 

     This summer does have a bittersweet aspect to it.  I turned 18 back in April and, looking back over the last few months, it's almost as if I can feel childhood slipping away.  It's not something I can stop, it's not something I wish wouldn't happen, it's not something I want to hurry up.  People say my entire life is before me, but, more accurately, my entire life is behind me.  The rest of my life is before me.  This may very well be the last summer I can spend in the way I've just described.  That aches, but I've a restless excitement for what comes next, what God will do next.  

Note: it does help to speak to the weatherman and ensure that the summer weather is spectacular.  I've hardly had one ugly day in the last 8 weeks and 3 states.

An Excuse of a Mission Field

     How many times has someone told you, "you are in a mission field, wherever you are."  True.  God puts us in specific places with a purpose in mind, and we don't have to travel to the ends of the Earth to find a mission field.  So... we're missionaries.  Now tell me: why do we not act as such?  On a daily basis, the ones we call missionaries, those who have given up a comfortable home life in the country of their birth, act differently than we do.  They struggle.  They serve.  They share.  They step out of their comfort zones.  Yes, they eat, sleep, and laugh the same as we do, but they have a purpose, an intention of being a missionary.
     When you're not a labeled missionary, different things occupy your life.  You go to school, you work your job, you raise your kids, you socialize with friends.  But all of these are part of the labeled missionary's life, too.  So it's not that we're being missionaries in a part of the world that's closer to home, it's just that we're being in a different part of the world; I think we're missing something.  When was the last time you picked up a stranger who was walking down the road, no matter how little room you had in your car?  When was the last time you intentionally served everyone around you, every day?  When was the last time you... shared your faith, even if through actions more than words?
     We shouldn't use "we're in a mission field" as an excuse to continue with our relatively comfortable, suburban lives.  We should be the missionaries we are called to be.

 "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you...you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth." 

Matthew 28:19-20, Acts 1:8

Sweet Summertime

     In case I haven't mentioned it on here (I don't think I have) and in case I haven't mentioned it to you personally (I probably have, though, I mention it to a lot of people), know this: I make breakfast/lunch twice a week for my family of 8.  See, my mom and I did a trade off: I make breakfast instead of cleaning the chicken coop.  I really think I got the better end of the deal.  But, I can't simply throw cereal, milk, and bowls on the table.  8 people go through cereal really really fast.  I have to actually make breakfast.
     Mom started this serious breakfast-making when we were in South Africa, needing to eat at 6 AM so we could be out the door at 6:20.  Breakfast is varied, filling, and delicious: cobbler, clafouti (klah-FOO-ti), chocolate cake, baked french toast, hash, banana bread, etc.  Desserts work really well for breakfast - just cut the sugar, and it gets pretty healthy.  And all of these (or almost all) can be mixed up, spread into her stoneware Pampered Chef 9x13 pan the night before, and ready to go in the morning. But even with this vast variety, you can get a little bored.  Oh the tedium of plenty.
     Through the long, cold, dark winter days, when I wake up before the sun and am out the door soon after, I don't have time to make fun breakfasts.  Breakfasts where you have to think it through and then spend time doing it?  No, I must be content making it the night before and setting the oven to start at oh-dark-thirty.  Also, that fresh fruit, straight from our garden or a local farmer, which adds color, flavor, and zing to any breakfast dish, is seriously lacking in the middle of the winter.
     So, now summer's starting (they're calling for a high of 90°F today!) and I get to have fun!  Apricots, peaches, berrrrriiiiieeeessss (yum), bananas, apples... all readily available to me.  I wanted some kiwi, too, but it turned out I ate the last one a few days ago.  Oh well.  So blossomed this gorgeously scrumptious breakfast.  I should also note that the original recipe (which I won't even reference because I don't think I ever followed it) called for a sugar cookie base, but that's not such a great idea with 7 kids.  Um, hyper anyone?  The biscuit base worked just as well.  And I still got up at 6 AM to start breakfast, but it wasn't dark.  So I was happy.  MMMMMmmmmmmm...







Summer Breakfast Pizza
serves 8-10
oven 450°F

Ingredients:

Biscuits:
3 c whole-wheat flour
1 1/2 Tbsp baking powder
1 Tbsp sugar
3/4 tsp cream of tartar
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 c butter
1 c milk

Cream Cheese Spread:
8 oz cream cheese, softened
2 Tbsp orange juice
1 Tbsp powdered sugar
2 tsp orange zest

Topping:
1-2 cups of fruit.  I used strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, apricots, apples, and bananas.  The blueberries were frozen, so I thawed them first, but everything else was fresh.

Directions:

1. In a food processor, stir together flour, baking powder, sugar, cream of tartar, and salt.  Cut in butter till mixture resembles coarse crumbs.  Add milk all at once.  Mix just until dough clings together. 
2. Lightly flour a pizza pan and pat dough out onto the pan.  The dough will be sticky; add more flour as needed, and then lick your fingers. 
3. Bake in a 450°F oven for 10-12 minutes or till golden.  
4. Meanwhile, beat the cream cheese, orange juice, powdered sugar, and orange zest until well blended.  Set aside. 
5. Prepare fruit topping.  Thaw anything (like blueberries) that's frozen.  Slice larger pieces of fruit (like apples, apricots, strawberries) so they will lie flat on the biscuit.  Set aside.
6. When you pull the biscuit out of the oven, spread the cream cheese over the top while the biscuit is still warm. This way, the cream cheese will melt and spread more easily.  Spread as far out to the edges as you can.  You may have some cream cheese leftover, but it will be good on toast 
or snack. 
7. Create a beautiful fruit arrangement on top and serve to your family.  Be prepared to watch it disappear in an eighth of the time it took you to prepare it, but be sure to help with that disappearing act. 

Credit where credit is due:
Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook, 1990s edition
Orange Nut Bread & Cream Cheese Spread, Taste of Home, Karen Sue Garback-Pristera

On (Okay, after...) my Graduation Day

      I really meant to post this a week... two weeks ago.  You know, right after graduation.  Definitely before I left for my week at the US Air Force Academy.  Did that happen?  Nope.  So anyone who actually reads this blog is left with a month between posts.  Not ideal, but what's done is done.  Better late than never?  Back to that cliches thing....
     Anyways, although my technical "what year am I in school" definition is way more complicated than "Senior", suffice it to say that I walked a graduation ceremony this year and will (likely) not next year.  I walked with 7 other seniors at the homeschooling coop that I was part of for a few years before moving to South Africa.  It was such a nice ceremony, just family and friends, but the small graduating class (many who used to be in our class graduated from the local high school) meant each and every one of those graduating had to give a speech.  I probably knew about this 3 or 4 months ago, but did I write it?  Noooo.... It was okay, though, the speech-writing and -delivery went fairly well.  Below is the product of that hurried 15 minutes an hour before showtime.  As the M.C. said, perfected procrastination is known as inspiration.  Keep that in mind.

     
     Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start....  it was a spring day in North Carolina when I was born on April 9, 1996.  The first born, I was to be my parents' guinea pig, as they have so lovingly called me, for the next several years of my life.  Indeed, probably for the rest of it.  Thankfully, my parents are relatively ethical with animals, and I think I turned out okay.
     My mom jokes that she started homeschooling me because she didn't want to take me to the bus every day, and I am certainly thankful for that decision; buses almost always smell bad.  Thus began my homeschooling journey, with many different teachers, friends, and experiences.  I tell people I love homeschooling because I can finish my work at noon and have the rest of the day to myself, but I also love working at my own pace, avoiding the drama of public school, and forging a strong relationship with my parents, especially with my mom.  She has taught me so much outside of academics - to cook, to sew, to be independent, to serve those around me.  I am so thankful for her. 
     I am also thankful for my Dad.  he is a strong father who loves me deeply, who wants me to figure out everything, including how to change the car radio, and who is always ready with a hug when I need one.  I love you Mom and Dad.
     And although at times it may be hard to see past the annoying outsides, I love my siblings as well.  Esther, I love your laughter.  Ivan, your cheerful heart.  Becca, your smile is beautiful.  Jonathon, I do (most of the time) love your goofiness.  Teresa, I love the way you listen to me in the night as we discuss how to solve the problems of the world.  Or how you put up with me when I fall asleep in the middle of the problem solving. 
     My whole family has supported me as I've grown.  It hasn't always been easy, goodness no, or even always good, but it has been a family for which I am so grateful.  Now, as I look to the future, I don't know where I'm going, but I know they'll be with me every step of the way.  
     Although I have been class of 2014 my entire life, my 2 years overseas "messed up" my school schedules, so I am actually only a grade 11 in the eyes of the government; I dropped back a year to take full advantage of the Running Start program.  I am acting a senior in most everything else, but I'll finish up my Associates Degree next year. 
     From there, who knows where God will lead me?  I'm considering the air force, or going into chiropractic.  I'm interested in photography as well, I want to raise a family, and I sense the call of God into the mission field.  Wherever I am, my Lord will be with me and my family behind me.

So yea.

Shapes and sizes, silver and gold

     Lots of teachers diss cliches, but I think there's value in them. Over-usage might be a problem, but when a certain phrase has been around long enough, it starts to gather connotations, same as a word would. So sometimes cliches more accurately express a concept better than a long train of words meticulously pieced together. That's not really what this post is about, but I'm about to use a couple cliches and now you won't immediately dismiss my thoughts because I'm not being "original" enough.  Although I'm sure you wouldn't have done that anyway.
     Friendships come in many different shapes and sizes; "one is silver and the other's gold"; opposites attract?  No, that last one probably doesn't hit the nail on the head.  I've had many friends and many chances to see how those friendships last through different circumstances and this has caused me to reflect on those different types of relationships.

•      Your childhood best friend whom you gradually drift away from.
•      The relationship which is based mostly off of joking, silliness, and plans for the next moment of laughter.
•      A friend who you knew for two years, who you saw every day in school, who you were close with, but with whom you won't stay in touch when you leave the school.
•      The friend you met when you were young, who has been through everything with you, who you consider as close as a sibling. Who you know, no matter how often you talk, you will always consider your best friend.
•      A person you sat next to for one class and got along well with, but you won't talk once the class is over.
•     One you see from a distance and put on a pedestal. You wish to be friends, but never have the guts to talk to that person. Or you do talk, but it's limited because you see the person so far above you.
•      The chance meeting of someone who you can look up to but are equal to, you understand each other in almost every way and can always be supportive of each other.  You stay in touch, but no matter how infrequently you talk, you pick up right where you left off and nothing has changed. You can see being friends for a very long time.
•      A friend you aren't extremely close with, but when you leave you stay in touch constantly.
•      Your everyday friends who you easily laugh with and chat with and share experiences with. You look up to them in varying degrees for various reasons and care about their joys and frustrations.

     I obviously didn't include names, and some of these are more general, others more specific.  I didn't include every relationship I have - that would be too many. Maybe you can identify with these or identify who I'm describing.  Maybe not.  The pictures don't match up, if you're thinking of using that as a clue.  I don't think you should even try to match people with descriptions.  And this isn't a scientifically researched list of carefully evaluated relationship types, this is just my reflections. There are so many types of friends, depending on the people interacting and the environment they're in.  Each relationship is as unique as the people forming it.

Getting my hands dirty

     The last two days,  as part of my gift to my mom, I've spent several hours working in the garden with her. This is actually a really fitting gift because it fits both my love language, quality time, and hers, service. So even though I don't normally find joy in weeding, it was enjoyable to work next to her in the sunshine, being productive, sometimes chatting, sometimes quiet, finding worms.
     As a college student, so much of my time is consumed by schoolwork, and I don't often have the time to really get my hands dirty.  Now, I've made it through the bulk of this term and I've got a little time to relax. Mother's day - perfect timing! So I weeded and planted snap peas, shelling peas, sweet peas, mint, and nasturtium.  And weeded some more.  And found worms.
     Good dirt is beautiful. If you've ever been a gardener, you know what I mean.  Rich, dark, mineral-laden dirt, nicely soaked with rainwater and full of stones, worms, and roots. You dig your fingers into it and crumble it together into a packed lump and then squeeze it back onto the ground. It gets under your fingernails and covers your hands, knees, and clothes. Gorgeous.

      You may have also picked up, I like worms. Obviously, I've been worm deprived for a while. They're cool! They can be long or short, fat or skinny. They regenerate if you accidentally chop one in half with your trowel (I did that a couple times). I'm pretty sure they can move backwards or forwards, and they feel weird slithering over your hand! And they're good for the garden. And they're pretty - dark purple and pink, not just a dull brown! Yes, I kind of enjoyed the worms. Mom laughed at my exuberance,  but I don't mind acting childish like that.  As my pastor is preaching, God is a working God who created this world and we are His working people, created in His image to enjoy what is good! I like getting my hands dirty!