Thursday, April 24, 2008

Growing Up in a Small Town




You know you are from a small town when (borrowed from an internet list)...

1. You know the population of your town because it's on the sign as you enter.
2. You can name everyone in your high school graduation class.
3. If you said a swear word, your parents knew about it within an hour.
4. It was cool to date somebody from the neighboring town.
5. You gave directions by people, not street names. (Turn at the Nelson house, go east to Andersons' and it's four houses left of the track field.)
6. You saw at least one friend a week driving his tractor through town.
7. All directions included "the 4 way stop" as a reference.
8. Your teachers mentioned when they had your parents in class.
9. The closest mall, movie theater, and McDonald's was a long drive.
10. You've "parked" with a date behind a barn.
Bonus: You've peed in a cornfield.

I thought it was high time to include a Top 10 list (Letterman's are sooo overrated) in this blog!

I grew up in a small town. Well, not really even in a town. Technically, on a rural route about 3 miles away from a town with a sign that said population 300. And although that was the name of the town in our address, the town that was 5 minutes away (ok, 7 minutes if you weren't trying to drive really fast to avoid missing your curfew) where I went to school was really my town. Population 1,500 (Saa-lute!). I've been thinking about that little town a lot lately due to my 25 year class reunion coming up. The school I attended (from kindergarten through 12 grade) has a banquet each year for all the alumni. That's right--anyone who ever graduated from the school, which has been there since before my dad graduated there in 1956. That is a small town thing. At the event, the classes celebrating the 'biggies' like 25 and 50 years get special recognition. I can't wait to see some of the people I grew up with and hopefully see some of the teachers that influenced me over the years.

There are some real disadvantages to growing up in a small town, but I don't think any of them played out to my detriment. I do think there were a lot of advantages though, so I made my own list.
Top 10 Ways growing up in a small town helps you as a grown up:
1. You know almost everyone and they know you. This gave me a sense of responsibility and accountability. You are more likely to help someone you know by name and family. You are more likely to clean up the trash you leave behind (literally and figuratively) when you know someone who knows your name may be watching.
2. You are more likely to live near nature. Whether it's farmland, woods, or mountain, you are more likely to grow up with more opportunities to get away from people and contemplate and develop an appreciation for creation.
3. You don't have easy access to a mall. With less temptation to spend, you learn to save up for what you really want .
4. You don't have easy access to a movie theater.With less entertainment at your fingertips, you have to learn ways to entertain yourself (the internet has probably changed this and # 3 a bit!).
5. You don't always have a bunch of friends to choose from to hang out with. This makes you have to learn to get along with who you do have to hang out with, even if it's annoying siblings or annoying neighbor kids. You learn to "love the one you're with" and work through the relationship junk.
6. You grow up with mostly the same group of kids through your school years. You see the things that shape them, and how they grow or are stiffled by them. You learn that when people act a certain way, often it has to do with something from their past--often something that was out of their control.
7. You are more likely to eat food you've had a part of growing. This teaches you how much work it is to get the food we take for granted. It teaches you the value of protecting the environment and managing resources. It might also turn you into a vegetarian, as you often pet the food you eventually eat. (Didn't work in my case)
8. You can be big fish in a small pond. Ambitious enough to run for office? You can probably get elected. Want to be on a sports team? Want to be in the school play? Want to work at the local store? They always need more people. This gives you experience and confidence and skills for if you are the small fish in the big pond one day.
9. You learn that you shouldn't think more highly of yourself than you ought to. Most small town people just won't put up with people that are too big for their britches. They won't tolerate people that look down on others for being different, poor, hard-working, or just 'small-town'. They know that everyone has to start somewhere and can choose to make something of themselves or squander what God has given them.
10. You learn how to pee outside. Even if you're a girl. Enough said.

Disagree? Have any of your own? Comments--give me comments!

Monday, April 21, 2008

Vacation Expectations

Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen. ~Benjamin Disraeli

Vacation was wonderful. I could lie and say it was boring or the weather was bad or the food was awful to make you feel better, but it was all good. So much of vacation is expectation. We dream and ponder what a certain place will be like, and we begin to imagine ourselves there-what we will see and do and experience. Hubby and I spent hours on Trip Advisor before and after we made our reservations trying to figure out what we would enjoy doing the most. It gave us great ideas, but in the end, you just have to go and roll with it. You have to be willing to let go of expectations that aren't jiving with the realities of the place you find yourself in and choose to make the best of it. The most fun things are often born out of the spontaneous--and out of the being open to whatever or whoever comes your way. Vacation is a lot like life that way.

The resort was gorgeous, with great food and beautiful pools.


One of the best days we had was the day we rented a car and explored outside of the resort. We had heard about cenotes, and went off to explore. Cenotes are sinkholes, where underground water sources have eaten away the limestone and then the surface rock has collapsed in. A not very appealing description of some of the most beautiful places we've seen. Imagine Mammoth Cave underwater--and you snorkeling over the top of it. As the rainwater seeps through the soil into a cenote, it filters it, and you end up with almost no "suspended particulate matter". Which is a fancy way to say it is very, very clear water. There are very few fish. Dale is actually several feet underwater in the second picture. This is Gran Cenote.






























The real show is under the water, as you can see in this video taken by scuba divers in the cenote:

Monday, April 7, 2008

Beautiful Home

No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow. ~Lin Yutang

It is good to be home. But, it is also good to be on vacation, and the first Monday after returning from vacation should just automatically be a "you get to be grumpy" day. Especially when you end up with a post-travel springtime sinus infection. And you have a pile of work on your desk.

You find yourself just longing for another look at this view:










I will be sharing a few stories from our trip over the next week. And in the meantime, I'll try to enjoy the beautiful sunny spring we are having here.

I am rejoicing in my old familiar pillow....

Caribbean Dreams

"The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page." ~St. Augustine

Ok, maybe that quote is a little highbrow for a trip to the Mayan Riviera, but it conveys the spirit that hubby and I like to take on any vacation. And so tomorrow we dive into the adventure of exploring a part of the Yucatan Penninsula. We plan to lay on the beach, snorkel with the sea turtles, swim in cenotes, and eat too much great food.

I get to use my passport for the first time!

"A passport, as I'm sure you know, is a document that one shows to government officials whenever one reaches a border between countries, so the officials can learn who you are, where you were born, and how you look when photographed unflatteringly." ~Lemony Snicket

Mine definitely fits this description.

I'll do my best to bring back some sunshine and heat for all the Michiganders. See you all next week!

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Real Grown Ups: Stories of people that are well on their way to being "mature"

Filling out the usual plethora of forms at the doctor's office the other day, I came to the blank marked "person to contact in case of an emergency (not living in your home)". I started to do the usual and write in the name of my in-laws (my parent's don't live locally), when I realized I could put my daughter's name in that blank. She is after all a married, self-supporting 21 year old adult with a cell phone and a car. I stopped a moment and let the gravity of that hit me--she is now a real grown up. Now I know a lot of people would say 'heeello!' She's been married and gone for almost a year now! But if you have grown children, you will know what I mean when I say it is a process. Seeing your child--the one whose nose, bottom, and tears you wiped--as an adult takes some getting used to.

It's not like we haven't been having 'grown up' conversations for a long time. This is the kid who at the ripe age of four asked at a restaurant, "Mommy, what does 'gay' mean?" and wouldn't take 'happy' for an answer. We've talked about what it means to 'be good' and later what it means to live out your faith in a school enviroment where your beliefs are not the accepted norm. We've talked about what it means to love your friends even when they are not being very lovable. We've talked about how to love your brother even when he is driving you absolutely stark-raving-maniac-crazy. We've talked about what it means to love someone so much that you can't see straight or see yourself living without them. We've talked volumes about other essentials over the years--clothes, art, movies, music, chocolate, hair--the list would be enormous. We're big talkers. We like to think and work things out verbally, much to the dismay of our more inward thinking husbands. Lately, we've talked a lot about what it means to do what you really love and to do it for the One who deserves all our love and lives.

Yesterday, she and favorite son-in-law went with about a dozen people to Detroit to minister to homeless people. They didn't preach, hold a rally, or try to get people into a program. They just loaded up their cars with blankets and groceries and met the needy and poor where they were--giving them a little help, listening to those that wanted to talk, praying for those who needed hope. They showed their love for God in basic, but tangible ways.

Tonight, hubby and I sat and listened as they shared their desires and dreams of going to South Africa this summer. While not really the first step--God has been doing things on this front for a while now--it may be the next leg of the journey to making overseas mission work their life's work. God has been weaving the threads of their lives together toward this purpose from the beginning. And through a web of interconnection that only God can pull together, He has led them to not only those who can make this dream a reality, but also those who share their enthusiasm and prayerfully support them.

Trying your best to live a life of love. Showing others love in hands-on, unselfish ways. Working toward making your God-given dreams a reality. Isn't that what being a real grown up should be all about?

And at the very least, isn't that the kind of person you want to call in case of emergency?

Thursday, April 3, 2008

When Death Comes

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse


to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measles-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

By Mary Oliver