Higher Ground 2007

It has been nearly a week since I finished my 9th year of Higher Ground and I haven't even had time to blog about it.

We had a good staff this year and a great (but small) group of participants, nearly half as many youth as what I usually work with.

I will admit to feeling a bit awkward about how I fit into everything since I didn't direct and Sonny wasn't there to for me to lean on when I needed some big shoulders. I suppose deep down I was hoping Higher Ground could be the one familiar, comfortable place I could return to, kind of escape to, but it wasn't.

The week went well, and ultimately I found the smaller number allowed for more free time. I do enjoy working with youth, so everything considered it was a good week.

It seems as though challenge and change will remain to be the theme for my year no matter where I go or where I work.


Today....

Our offices for Habitat for Humanity moved to 1220 12th St SE.

More Change and More Challenges to blog about!

Just a couple photos

Twilett Williams and me on day 2.

















My tools of the trade...

Where to Begin?

The last half of the month of May went by in a whirlwind for me.
I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to go to Gulfport/Biloxi for the Blitz Build with Americorps and Habitat for Humanity.

The experience was so many different things in so many different ways. I have been thinking about it for the past week trying to find a way to share my experience in words.

I am on my way to Nebraska today for a visit with my older kids and grandson and to work a week of Higher Ground Youth Retreat at Fort Robinson. It is finally quiet and I have time to reflect on the past couple of weeks and my experience.

My challenge is knowing where to begin. I haven't been able to decide. Do I begin with my uncertaintly and doubts about going? Do I start with how hard it was to leave Jeff, the kids and all that was going on at work?

Or do I begin with arriving at D'Iberville and the camp surroundings and what it was like to sleep in military tents on cots? I thought about sharing with you about the incredible volunteers that live at and run the all volunteer camp where we stayed. Especially Johnny who lives and works at the camp since losing his home in the storm. Johnny doesn't get paid anything, but for working at the camp he gets a tent and a cot.

A logical place to begin seems to be sharing with you about the home we were building, a small, but decent 3 bedroom for Twilett Williams and her two kids Jasper, age 9 and her daughter age 2 (whos name escapes me right now).

I wanted to tell you about how Twilett took two days off from her job as a hairdresser to come and work along side us and how she couldn't stop thanking us for our work. She shared how hard it has been to get ahead especially after losing everything in Hurricane Katrina and how appreciative she was for our taking time to come down and build with her.

As I thought about starting with Twilett and her story, I then thought I should tell all twenty future homeowners story. They were equally important. But also important is the incredible effort of the Habitat affiliate in the Gulfport/Biloxi area and the Americorp program that works so hard day in and day out every week to keep up pace with the incredible need for decent, affordable housing.

I wish I could begin by showing you the devastation that lingers even after nearly 2 years. And how the Casinos are the first things to pop back up along the Gulf coast looming large on the barren coastline with bright lights beckoning to tourists.

I could also start by sharing with you the wonderful young people I met and worked alongside, the young 20 somethings that I shared tent space with, stood in lines for meals with, rode the bus with, visited New Orleans with, and played kickball with on what was once a softball field for local youth and now is part of our volunteer camp.

I have a 100 + photos that could help tell the story if I could just decide where to begin. So while I think about that let me just say to my sister, Chris.... Thanks for the gloves! and to Dad.... Thanks for giving me your toolbelt!

Photos to come later, when I am back on my computer at home.

20 home Blitz Build

Saturday morning, May 19th, about 3:30 am I'll be headed to PDX to catch a flight to Houston and then on to Gulfport/Biloxi Mississippi.

As part of my Americorps VISTA Volunteer year I am being sent to work with the Habitat for Humanity to build 20 homes in a week to help replace the housing lost to Hurricane Katrina.

We will be staying at D'Iberville volunteer camp set up on what used to be softball diamonds where the youth played ball.

http://www.dvolteam.org/menus/camp1.html

It looks like a refuge camp with the military style tents and cots.
And from the director's own orientation notes, it appears they don't have much regard for Catholics.


I've always wanted to be able to travel and help build homes. But I will be honest and admit I thought it would be in another country, and it might feel a bit more glamorous than how this feels.

Our packing list included such things as our own tools, bedding, hard hats, bug spray, and pain reliever. Oh and to be sure and bring a signed copy of the drug and alcohol code of conduct.
What if alcohol IS my pain medication? Should I just bring a prescription for it?

In any event I leave in the morning and won't be back until Saturday the 26th.

Check out the website and pray for all of us going to build as well as those who are still struggling to get back into decent, affordable homes!

It's another Saturday and work calls me away from the kids and Jeff.

It is days like these that I wonder if I did the right thing in getting so involved in Habitat for Humanity and the Americorp VISTA program.

My Americorp pledge keeps me from saying 'no' to a lot of things that I might otherwise say no to. So I gather up my toolbelt, head to the office to pick up the necessary supplies of the day.

This Saturday is different though. We need cookies and punch, programs and prayers, free t-shirts, cups and plates.
Because today we are having a wall raising ceremony.

As I drive to the build site I run through the mental list of items I was supposed to grab with only Dave Matthews Band to keep me company.

I have never been to a wall raising ceremony and I certainly have never planned one... at least not until this week. And I feel a bit nervous.

I go through my mental list one last time, and doubt and question myself before setting it aside as I turn down Evergreen court and see the build site...

There is work to be done now....

It isn't long before people arrive. Maria arrives like she does every Saturday. She always has a smile to share as, together, we build her a home. But this week is different for her too. Her brothers and friends are here.

All goes well and the joy shared around the build site is contagious! Standing side by side raising the walls with Maria makes it all worthwhile.

I just wish Jeff and the kids would have decided to come and join me.

Sunset Service at Confirmation Retreat

Today we finished up the St. Edward's confirmation retreat in Newport, OR.
What a good group of young people. Only 16 youth and 3 adults.
Considerably smaller than what I am used to at St. James.
Some aspects of working with a smaller group I enjoyed,
and some aspects of not having a large group of 60 I missed.
But overall a wonderful retreat.

My favorite part was the sunset service on the beach with a nice roaring fire to keep away the evening chill.

Excitement in West Salem

A couple of days ago there was great excitement in Salem!

The whole city was abuzz with the weather.

We had Hail!

Not the golf ball size, not baseball sized hail, not even the grapefruit size devastating hail that we had in Kearney a few years ago that literally broke through roofs and landed in living rooms.

No this was different all right.
It was so light and so small and gathered on the ground and from a distance looked like snow!
And native Oregonias were excited!

After 10+ months of living here I have found the people to get very excited over high winds, temperatures over 90, and snow and now hail!

Where I come from high winds, extreme high and low temps, snow and hail are the norm! In fact there have been times when I experienced all the extremes in a span of three days.

Oregonias are spoiled! And I, for one, am glad to be living in such a mild climate!

Happy May Day!

May 1, 2007!


It's May Day.


For me, growing up in Kansas, May Day meant you went to your garden and cut flowers, put them in a small basket, like the old green plastic baskets that strawberries come in, or we would take a piece of construction paper and roll it like a cornucopia and slide the flowers down in.

Then we would take them to the neighbors home. Sometimes we would leave them on the step, ring the doorbell and run, sometimes we would hand our neighbors the bouquet of flowers.
It was partly a way to be neighborly and partly a way to brag about your garden and all the flowers you planted in the fall.

When we moved to Nebraska that tradition ended, mostly due to the longer winters and not having many flowers to cut and share. Instead, the kids traded bags of candy with the other neighbor kids and had fun trying to leave the candy, ring the doorbell and run without getting caught.
If my kids were writing this reflection, they would say it was more important for them to get candy and be able to catch the neighbors as they left it on our porch and had a long way to run to reach the end of our driveway.

Now we are here in Oregon, and I don't know what to expect. I told the kids Happy May Day this morning and they remembered... asking...
Do you think the neighbors will give us candy?

I think on the way home from work I should stop by the local hardware store and pick up some flowers for my neighbors, because I didn't plant very many last fall.

Maybe next year I will have flowers I can cut and share with my neighbors.

Baggins / Tookish

I often wonder what is wrong with me.
I can’t figure out how I end up doing the things I do.
I am puzzled as to how I get so intertwined and enmeshed with my work, that things at home get set aside.

What is it about me that can’t be content as a stay-at-home mom?
Why do I seem to need more?
Why isn’t ministering to my children enough for me?

There are aspects of my work that I don’t even like, tasks that require me do things I would never volunteer to do. I would never volunteer to stand before a church congregation or an entire school assembly and make a presentation. Yet I have done both in the past two weeks. I feel nervous, challenged, and uncomfortable a lot of the time with this new job. I could quit, but I can’t. There is something deep inside me that likes this uncomfortable feeling, that wants to be challenged and needs to feel nervous and uncertain.

Maybe I am like Bilbo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. Perhaps if I were to cross paths with the magician Gandalf he would tell me, “There is more to you than you know.” Gandalf knew that there was more to Bilbo’s sedentary Baggins side. Bilbo was also from the swashbuckling Took side. His blood was a mingling of both Baggins and Took.

The best comparison I have would be the knowledge that I am made in God’s image; both human and divine, both of this earth and of heaven. This mysterious union is one that seems to always lead me down odd paths, around curves and into places I would not go of my own choosing. But much like the Took side of Bilbo that made him trade in his walking stick for a sword and sent him on many adventures, something “Tookish” calls to me, awakes the divine in me and leads me on challenging adventures.

Sometimes I think about how much easier it would be to stay comfortably at home taking care of the ordinary activities of day to day life. I seem to live in this constant tension between human and divine, earth and heaven. Yet just as I start to settle down into a mindset that has me snug, at home, and feeling comfortable, I am once again called out. I am called out of the comfortable, called out to see more, to experience more, to help more, to minister more.

There is a scripture somewhere in the bible ( I don’t know exactly where) that talks about “my soul thirsts for you, my God”.
Perhaps there is nothing wrong with me at all.
Maybe I am just thirsty.
Maybe I should quit being puzzled.
I should stop wondering why.
I should accept that, just by chance (or by the grace of God) that I am okay.

Some days I will pick up my “Baggin’s”walking stick and some days I will strap on the “Tookish” sword. But every day I will try to live as God made me, in His likeness.

Ten months

Ten months ago today I took a good friend to the airport.

It was a difficult good-bye for me. Not the most difficult good-bye I have ever had to say, but it is one that remains vivid in my memory.

I mostly remember the conversation intermingled with the unspoken words, followed by the attempt to make light of having to let go. It was difficult because it felt like he was my last link to a life I loved, a life I didn’t want to leave.
But that is my memory.

For my friend, this good-bye was probably welcomed, not too difficult because he was heading back home. He was going back to a place he was from and a place he wanted to be.

I was the one staying someplace new, someplace unfamiliar, someplace I didn’t want to be. But I needed to make this place my new home.

He said, “Give it time. You can do this. We’ll be praying for you”
And I knew he meant all the family and friends that were now a part of my past.

As I drove away and the reflection of him in my rear view mirror got smaller, my tears fell.

But here I am, ten months later, giving it time, feeling confident in the fact the I can do this and feeling prayed for, supported, and loved by so many.

Matt was right.

I can do this.

Late night Ramblings

It is late...
Almost 1:00am here in Salem.
I am tired. I am worn out, washed up, wrung out and hung out to dry.

So why am I still on the computer?
Part of it is
I have just finished a quarterly report that has to go out tomorrow for my VISTA Volunteer position.
But some of it is that I am too tired to climb the stairs to get to my bed.

And mostly it is that I have missed the solitude, the quiet, the personal reflection time that allows me the time to think, the time to write, the time to pray, and the time to just be.

But I should go because the contacts in my eyes are dry and I can't quite focus on the words I have written.
Oh wait....
perhaps that is the rum.

Good Night!

To be understood as to understand...

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
Where there is hatred,let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, harmony;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not
so much seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved, as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

This was one of the first prayers I learned at St. Patricks school when I started there my fourth grade year. All the other kids had memorized the Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be, Act of Faith, Act of Hope, and whatever other Act prayers there are.
So in fourth grade Sr. Mary John set out to teach us all the Prayer of St. Francis.

And although I have never been very good at memorizing or remembering things in my head, this prayer is one that I have remembered and held in my heart.

I especially have tried to live the last part of the prayer. The part that says...

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand; To be loved, as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive; It is in pardoning that
we are pardoned; And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

I don't know what about these lines called to me so strongly as a young 9 or 10 year old, but something about these words grabbed ahold of me and have settled into my being and my heart.

As a young child I wanted to "seek to understand others" so that I could be understood. I always thought that if I worked really hard to understand others, to love others, to pardon others, to console, then maybe I would be understood, I would be loved, I would be pardoned, and consoled.
But I haven't found this to be true. At least not ALWAYS true.
At times, I feel misunderstood, unloved, condemned (or at least criticized) and hurt. I have wondered if it was because I wasn't understanding enough, wasn't loving enough, wasn't 'something' enough.

But reading this now as an adult I hear it differently. The prayer is supposed to be more of a plea to my Divine master to help me with not seeking more than I give. There is no promise of what I will receive in return. But my child's mind thought there would be some reward in the end for all this giving.

I am realizing now my reward is in the giving.

All this is becoming more clear to me as I read Windows of the Soul by Ken Gire.

Gire gives reference to a line from the movie a River Runs Through It... "You can love completely without complete understanding." Gire goes on to say "It was not required of me to understand. It was required of me to love, and go on loving, completely."

So as I approach Holy Week and the end of my Lenten journey I am changing my focus from understanding in the hope of being understood, to loving completely without understanding. And I hope to approach this knowing that my reward will simply be in the loving completely.

Its spring!
I love this season.
It brings about so much new life, so much new growth. So it seems very appropriate to be experiencing new changes and new opportunites at work and at home during this season as well.

For nearly the past 5 months I have been working at Habitat for Humanity of the Mid-Willamette Valley in the area of resource development. I have learned quite a lot and have just begun to feel more comfortable in my job. I have grown to even like my small workspace in spite of the openness and lack of privacy. But most of all the past 5 months have helped me learn that I am not meant to work in resource development. This is not an area that suits me well.


So I am eagerly awaiting getting back to work after I return from spring break to move into a new work space and more importantly a new job. I will be working as the Program Manager.

This I am very excited about!

Unfortunatley I acquire the new work space, new title and new responsibilites because I have lost a good friend who is moving on and will have her own new adventures ahead.

Jeanne.... It has been my pleasure and an honor to work with you, drink with you, and share an all to brief slice of life with you. I wish you all the best!

Complimentary umbrella ... anyone?

Before I moved to Oregon I diligently watched the weather channel to see if it rained as much as I heard it did.

What I found was that nearly every day weather.com indicated rain, rain and clouds, clouds and rain.

I was discouraged by this.


But after moving I haven't found it to be nearly as rainy as weather.com indicated. In fact this morning the internet predicted yet another cloudy day with a chance of rain, however the skies are clear and the complimentary umbrella stands are going unused.

Remembering and Memories

Today is Caroline's birthday. She is 14 years old. Caroline was the last of our kids to be born in Kansas. We moved to Kearney when she was about 8 months old. She doesn't remember much about Kansas other than it was a long way to drive to visit grandparents and cousins. I think she considers herself a Nebraskan.

It was a year ago today that Jeff arrived in Oregon. It is strange to think it has already been a year. 12 months! When I look ahead to events knowing that it won't arrive for a year it seems like such a long time to wait. Yet when I look back on a year that has past it seems to have gone by so fast. Why is that?

I know there were a lot of things that happened last spring as I was single parenting and getting the house ready to sell that I wanted to commit to memory. Things that I wanted to always hold in my heart. There were feelings shared with friends and family that I swore I would never forget. Yet the memories are fading or at least blending in with all the other years past. I hate that.

But life continues on. Life is constantly filled with new things to remember, to experience, to hold onto.

This morning the phone rang... early! My heart jumped when I saw it was my dad calling. I was afraid that something was wrong, someone was sick or hurt.

But he was calling to sing Happy Birthday to Caroline, a tradition dad has lived out since I was a kid. It just doesn't seem like your birthday until you get sung to by my dad.

Then the news alerted us to a 2 hour delay to the school day, a true birthday gift in Caroline's eyes! A ridiculous decision in Jeff and my eyes.

But the school delay allowed us some time to laugh and cry this morning that we wouldn't have had otherwise. The crying came with the realization that Spike passed away sometime in the night.

Spike was a good fish. Spike could perhaps be the only Beta fish to ever travel from Nebraska all the way to Oregon in water jug in the back of a Jetta. Spike was Laura's fish, a birthday gift from the oldest sister to the youngest sister nearly two years ago.

We took some time and talked about Spike and his travels and adventures. We talked about how she wanted to 'dispose' of Spike. After Laura made a decision and dried her tears she went to find her journal and a pen. She asked me what the date was and she began writing.

I am guessing that a part of her wanted to always remember this morning. She wanted to remember Spike, so she was writing it down.

I suppose that is what I should do more of.... write things down.

So today I am thankful for the snow flurries and a late school start that turned out to be great blessing.

February 26, 2006 - February 26, 2007

It was one year ago today that Jeff, along with all the possessions he anticipated needing for four months, could be found somewhere between Kearney Nebraska and Salem Oregon.




Today Mike and Aimee are in the same bug somewhere between Salem Oregon and Kearney Nebraska heading to Omaha.

And Jeff is driving a new Honda Civic HyBrid.



Maybe next year I will have a new car.
Maybe a red hot convertable!
Maybe a truck with a decent towing capacity.
Or maybe it will be Alex with a vehicle and me still in the Jetta.

The only thing I am certain of any more is that things are in constant motion and always changing.

It a good day when...

It is a good day for me when things get real.
When things get 'down and dirty', or 'down to the nitty gritty'.
When life is honest and raw.

Today was a day like that for me.

You never know what will be asked of you on a Habitat build site.
And I never go with expectations. It just is what it is.
My morning consisted of digging, shoveling,
wheeling and moving dirt. Then leveling and spreading out
topsoil. All done in pouring rain.
It was wet, messy, muddy and difficult.
And tonight my muscles are reminding me of the work that was accomplished. But that is okay because today was a good day.

I suppose what I consider a good day is different than what others might expect.
And what made today a good day wasn't so much the labor involved as much as it was the people that I labored with.

The conversation was just as real, just as honest, just as 'down to the nitty gritty' as was the work.

I need that.
I need that at work and I need that at home.
And today I had both.

One of my adult daughters is here for just a short couple of days and we had a chance to talk. Just a good ole mother / daughter conversation. No interruptions, no sports in the background, just a real, honest, raw conversation about life and the current issues we are facing.

I feel so lucky, so blessed, so graced by moments like these.

Today was a good day.

If life is like a River, I must be in the rapids!

Life has been so busy and it feels like I am body surfing my way through just barely keeping my head above the surface. Sometimes it is fun, sometimes exhilarating, and sometimes frightening.
And then there are times like this morning that I look back up river and don't see anything familiar. I don't recognize where I am or where I have been and have no clue where I am going. I am just on this fast flowing river and I can't seem to get out of it. I am not sure I should get out of it.
Maybe the river is taking me someplace I will be glad to arrive at.
But right now, this morning, I feel scared, and confused.
I would run if I knew which direction to run.
But I don't, So I stay.
I stay because this is where Jeff is.
I stay because this is where the kids are.
But even with that said, life with the kids isn't the same any more.

Lindsey is moving out this week.
Mike and Aimee are preparing to move to Kansas City.
Melissa is having Cale baptized when we go back to Kearney in March, in the Methodist church.

So much is happening and I haven't had time to get a handle on things,
I haven't had time to process all this change.
I need some quiet time to pray.

But Life is busy and I am being swept downstream and it is taking all I have to concentrate,keep my head up, and stay afloat until I reach calmer waters.

February Flowers

It is February here in Oregon. Actually it is February everywhere. But it feels like I am experiencing February in a different way than most everyone else I know. I suppose because it is my first February here and most people I know live in Nebraska or Kansas.


The past six months or so I seem to approach most everything in my life from a place of explanation. I explain to people I am new and need directions, I explain to new people about my eight kids (see previous blog), I explain to people about my accent (which I didn't know I had), and I explain to native Oregonians what winter weather really is.

But I am getting off track.... I wanted to talk about flowers....

It is February here and there are flowers everywhere. The grocery stores, the garden centers, the hardware stores, even the gas station has flowers to sell. I was walking along the storefront shops downtown and found a cart of flowers for sale.

Pansies seem to be the flower to plant in February and they can be found everywhere.

This is vastly different than life in Nebraska or Kansas at this time of the year.

Back home you would be challenged to get through the snow to even consider planting right now. And no one would plant flowers this time of year.
Potatos perhaps, but not pansies.

So life here is different. But this is a difference that I embrace!

Fitting in.

In this new life in Oregon I have been trying to fit in, trying to make friends, trying to find a place where I belong. Some times I feel comfortable, sometimes okay, but awkward, and other times I feel utterly displaced.

But I guess if I am to be honest with myself finding my place in this world has been a search of mine all my life. In my family, in school, in junior high, high school, young adulthood, in Kansas, in Nebraska, and now as a middle age mother of 8, grandmother of 1 in the middle of Salem, Oregon. My search continues.

Maybe I am never meant to fit in comfortably anywhere. Maybe it is in the searching that I am drawn to different places and different people. Maybe the search is the adventure I am meant to live.

Last night my adventure continued as I joined 7 other women whom I had never met. I was invited to attend a cooking class at an upscale restaurant with a group of ladies who were all friends. I was invited to fill an open spot. The invitation came my way from a mom of one of my daughter's friends. When she called with the invitation she said, "I heard you are a mom of 8 and I've never met anyone with that many kids. I think it would be fun to get to know you."

I usually prefer someone get to know me before I share how many children I have, but that is not always possible.

I was nervous about going. How to you go somewhere already knowing that you are the outsider, the novelty new person? But I braved the unknown and ventured out.
The evening was more than just interesting.
I'm not sure how to tell it in a blog so I will try to sum it up...

I arrived at my 'new friend's' home to find she had completely forgotten her invitation to me. And...
She was drunk as a skunk!
She asked if I minded driving... "absolutely not", I said.
When she landed on the floor trying to sit, I helped her back onto her stool pretending not to notice her intoxication.
I endured the stares and sideways glances from the prim and proper group. I can only imagine what they thought of me, this stange newcomer, who they never bothered to ask my name or how I came to be here with the drunken friend.
I tolerated the gasps and questions that came as I was introduced with, "She is new to town and oh, can you believe she has 8 kids!"
Then they proceeded to talk about me as if I wasn't there, all of them wondering aloud what it must be like to have eight kids.
I politely thanked them and left, taking my drunken host with me.

And I wonder why I don't fit in.
I am simply not meant to fit in and after last night I am glad I don't fit in, at least not with this group of ladies.