April and Andrew Do Not Read This.

**Caution: April and Andrew, this will ruin the intense surprise coming to you this weekend in Omaha when you are inundated with information and overstimulated until you can’t remember if you ever did or did not want to be a part of Word Made Flesh.**

Before the Word Made Flesh board meeting in April I kept telling everyone “see, I’m not sure if I’m going to be on staff because I haven’t interviewed yet.” It was about two days to Omaha-time and it hit me “hmmm… they probably wouldn’t have me come to Omaha from Michigan if they weren’t pretty sure I would be accepted.”

If you could blog my emotions they may have looked something like:
“AAAAAAGH!” in the more fearful, ‘oh-crap-what-am-i-doing’ sort of way.

This was made all the better by the first meeting after I arrived when we were given a New Staff Orientation Book and the run down on raising support, insurance, your will, what happens if you get kidnapped, the limited vacation time, community standard (uh-oh), and of course the THREE YEAR COMMITMENT. I raised my hand politely as Brent spoke,
“Um, excuse me sir, is this a legally binding contract?”
“We like to think of this as more of a covenant.”

That was not exactly comforting. Hmmm, now I am making a Biblical contract with Jesus Christ as my witness.

I’m pretty sure as I signed my contract, my hand was shaking. Does a ‘covenant/contract’ still apply if the signature was misspelled?

Obviously both Jesse and I are really good at long term commitment. (See photo on right, you could sum up my face with “Enthusiasm.”)

Thankfully, this Board Meeting I feel a little more prepared. And, if you picture this phrase with Maximum/Code Red level Liz animation:
“I AM SO EXCITED!”

You’ll have an accurate representation of how I feel about being a part of the WMF Nepal community and how much I am looking forward to seeing Ben (sorry no pic available), April, Jourt, Ange, the US staff, Kara (although I saw her this weekend) and these cool dudes:

So Andrew and April, if you’re reading this although I told you not to (good luck with that community standard), here’s to signing our lives away even though it’s scary as heck.

My Version of Che.

This man (Steve Biko) is following me everywhere!

A few days after I became obsessed with Steve Biko, this was on BBC World:

commemorating September 12, 1977- the thirty year anniversary of his imprisonment, torture, and murder by the Afrikaaner government of South Africa.

Last night, Father Lou delivered a beautiful call to political action in his homily. I went up to talk to him afterward and thank him for being courageous enough to deliver said sermon (hoorah Dominicans!) and he starts, “A few years ago I went to see this movie with Denzel Washington… Cry Freedom” AGH! What are the odds?!

I found a collection of essays by Steve at the library, (“I Write What I Like”) but I’ve only read one. So I’m not sure completely what I think about his political thought, or spiritual thought for that matter. I have established that he was a pretty cool man who encouraged people to claim their identities, and I would categorize him as a primordial saint. (Thank you Jon Sobrino) I think I like him like Beth likes Che.

Who is your Che?

Family Portrait.

Ahhh… the sound of the weekend approaching.

Just when you thought I was long-winded enough, check out this puppy! (It’s actually pretty short, no worries.)
http://www.wordmadeflesh.com/admin/prayer_letters_view.php?detail=899

I have so many inside jokes with my brother, like “oh man, what are the odds?!!” the secret hand signals we made up to represent each member of the family, anything about his best friend “The FatMan” or any of the colorful cast of characters that have walked in and out of our family. Classic Elementary School Keith moment; (which occurred about a week after he tried to “fake” moon the girls of the fam by wearing shorts under his pants. Unfortunately, we mostly got a nice glimpse of his tighty-whities). One day he was convinced he pulled his groin and built a wheelchair out of scrap wood so he wouldn’t have to walk. The base sat on one wheel, the kind that are underneath rolling office chairs. Needless to say, it left a little to be desired in structural integrity, as evidenced by the speed with which it promptly dropped Keith on his backside.

You’ll be relieved to know that he is now working in building construction management.

Short Story #2

This story is dedicated to Calvin.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who liked to procrastinate. She would stay up until 2 am doing homework because she put it off so late.

Then she grew up and got a real job. She stayed up until 2 am writing her support letters.

And she never stopped procrastinating…. until the end of time.

The end.

Short Story #1.

Kara and I walked a mile to the local coffee shop. We hadn’t seen each other in a while, so we caught up on all the latest WMF gossip. I couldn’t decide what to order, did I want a pumpkin spice latte or perhaps a green tea smoothie? She stepped up to the counter “I’ll have a chaider.” (Apparently now they make apple cider with chai in it, sounds very authentic.)

“What would you like?” the barista asked. I hemmed and hawed…
“um, a cafe au lait.”

She makes both drinks. The cookies looked good, I couldn’t decide if we should split one.
“Are these together or seperate?”

Kara steps up to the counter. I swear she replies “together” and begins to count out her cash.
“NO KARA!” I cry valiantly. “You always try to do this and pay for me!”
I whip out my credit card, all the customers turn to stare, the barista looks up from the register.

Kara, so matter of fact, “oh I was just paying for myself.”

Ah glorious awkwardness, how I love thee.