On the family farm and trying harder

Last Tuesday I submitted two midterm papers and took my first exam in Islam. I was pretty worked up about all three of those things, so I worked my buns off and wrote two decent papers but still felt antsy going into my test.

I got my grade back today: I got a 99/100 on my Islam test. I killed it. The only problem I missed was a question about the shortest Surah in the Qur’an, which was a goofy piece of trivia that our professor didn’t cover in class and I didn’t think to look up before the exam. I’m not too upset about it, frankly.

I also got my paper back in Political Theology. Background on this class: it’s really, really hard. I chose it because I need two 4000-level Systematic Theology classes to graduate, and the course description sounded incredibly interesting. I haven’t missed a minute of class time and I’ve read every word of the readings Dr. Radzins has assigned, but oh, good Lord, it is so thick and deep and complex. One week I was so frustrated with a passage that I took a picture and Tweeted it.

Another week we had to read Augustine’s The City of God almost in its entirety.

There are eleven students in the class, and while I follow as best I can, every week I feel like I do 100 units of listening and 5 units of understanding. I probably should have dropped it at the beginning of the semester and taken something more my speed, but I pride myself on NOT QUITTING. I figured eventually I’d understand.

Anyway, I got a C on my paper. Sure, a C is average. But I’ve never gotten a C on a paper in my entire educational career, all the way back to kindergarten. I’ve gotten Cs on tests, but papers are supposed to be the way that I best demonstrate what I know. Hell, I’m training to be an educator and I plan on assigning loads of papers, because students can really show me how much they’re learning. And the real pisser of it all is this: that paper is worth 40% of our grade in the class, and I have to get a B or better or it doesn’t go on my transcript. So either a) I have to take two more 4000-level Systematics classes next semester or b) I don’t graduate on time.

I freaked out the whole way home. Part of me is thinking Suck it up, Schleusener, this is GRADUATE school and it’s game time. The other part of me, the much louder part of me, is thinking You’re not cut out for this and you know it. You’ve been bullshitting yourself and everyone around you for 15 months and it’s time to fold. And part of that is true; I really, honestly don’t get this the way that my classmates do. I don’t have the background in it, which is a disadvantage in itself, but I didn’t exactly spent my summer break reading theology to make up for it.

When my grandpa was a teenager, in the span of just a few months, his big brother Dennis went to war and his father, my great-grandfather, deteriorated mentally to the point where he was basically committed to a mental institution. That left my grandpa, at, like, 16 years old to run the family farm in Oxford, Nebraska. He absorbed all of the duties of both his father and his older brother practically overnight, as a teenager, when his ability to cope with change of that magnitude wasn’t even close to developed. I think an equally impressive part of this story is that my great uncle Dennis wrote Grandpa letters from battle in the South Pacific, telling him what kind of equipment to buy, when to plant and harvest crops, how to manage the farm without him. It literally makes me cry to think of this. That level of responsibility – to each other, to their family – it just…I can’t even fathom it.

Grandpa and Dennis are what Tom Brokaw calls The Greatest Generation. It is so humbling for me to think about The Greatest Generation, because sometimes I’m so disgusted with my own. We can be such a bunch of shitheads. I shouldn’t generalize: I can be such a shithead. I can’t even write a whole paper without getting on Facebook. I buy all of my groceries from a store less than a mile away and I drive there. I complain about having to wash dishes that aren’t my own. I’m afraid – I’m really, really afraid – that I don't actually know how to work hard.

I want to chalk this up to being a child of this age, to being a kid who’s grown up with unimaginable comforts and who’s never really been tested. But I can’t, because even though that’s true, I come from tough stock. I can’t make excuses that other members of my generation can. I fucking owe it to myself, my grandpa, my great uncle who’s long since passed, to TRY. They didn't quit, so I can’t, either.

So tonight, I'm going for a long run. I need to shake my shit out, so to speak.

And tomorrow, I rally. I’m getting that class back on track. I’m writing my thesis. I’m not giving up.

Jurgen Moltmann and a Monday night in Starbucks

Tonight I sit at a long table in Starbucks, sipping a too-hot coffee and highlighting my copy of Jürgen Moltmann’s The Spirit of Life. I finished my class readings this morning so I could spend some time crafting my Master’s thesis, which I’m writing largely on this book. Moltmann is a contemporary German theologian (he’s still alive) with an interesting life story, and this particular book is about pneumatology – the doctrine of the Holy Spirit.

I come to a part that reads,

“Because God lets [God’s] Spirit rest on [God’s] messiah, the messiah ‘will bring forth justice to the nations’ (Isaiah 42.1), and when ‘the Spirit is poured out from on high…then justice will dwell in the wilderness and righteousness abide in the fruitful field, and the fruit of righteousness will be peace’ (Isaiah 32.15ff). This means in the first place that the God who in [God’s] almighty power created heaven and earth is on the side of the people who have to suffer violence because they cannot defend themselves. Their rights are [God’s] divine concern. … God is the justice of the unjustly treated, just as [God] is the power of the powerless.”

I swallow hard. This doesn't make sense to me. My gut asks, Can we be explicit about this? Or does it necessarily imply that God is more in favor of those who suffer? Because if that's the case, it would mean that God is less in favor of those who cause the suffering – who are equally a part of God's creation. I don't think this is possible of God. This smacks of mortal construction, not divine.

I put my conundrum on Twitter. Several of my friends in seminary respond. They write, invariably:

- " “I don’t think I would say God is more on their side, but instead acts differently.”

- “I think we can be explicit about that statement and not be exclusive.”

- “I think it's because those who can defend themselves don't need God to defend them. If they did, they would have God.”

- “Maybe there’s an important difference between ‘on the side of’ and ‘favoring.’

My question remains unanswered. These responses don’t satisfy the root of what’s troubling me – that God could, or would, differentiate between us, the mystifyingly complicated little orbs of light that God created. How could God quantify the suffering of someone against the suffering of someone else, who in our eyes might look like the agent of suffering…when really they’re suffering, too?

I keep reading. Moltmann continues, “The suffering, tormented and murdered Christ is on the side of the victims, not the agents.” This gives me such an AHA! moment, because you’re wrong, Moltmann. God is too on the side of the agents, whether we like it or not. God may not be in the torture or the murder, but God is in the person; the Holy Spirit doesn’t pick-and-choose.

I think we envisage God as our justice and power because it gives us hope, and without it, how could we possibly persevere? But we’re shortchanging ourselves with this image, and we are sure as hell shortchanging God with it. As Anne Lamott writes, “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” Because we can’t say that Jesus is “against” the agents of torture doesn’t mean we can say He’s for them; it means we have to say that there is so much more at play than we can understand. Grace would be so cheap if it were only allotted to those who deserve it (and believe me, if I could dole it out, Ann Coulter would be left off the list). But we all get it, every one of us, including those people who cause suffering and siphon power from the already-powerless, even though sometimes it doesn’t make a lick of sense. And that, my dear readers, is why more than 2,000 years after the death of Christ, some four and a half billion years after the dawn of time, all of us are still talking about and reading about and writing about and arguing about God. These answers are elusive for a reason. How lucky are we that they are?

**EDIT**

After I published my post, I found this post, and I think Marika is hitting at the same things I'm trying to say, so if my thoughts don't make sense, maybe hers do.

**EDIT II**

An old friend (who's also seminary-educated) just tweeted back at me, saying, "No way God plays favorites. Jesus was just as concerned with Nicodemus' problems and the wealthy man's as the sick and outcasts' struggles." Amen, buddy, amen. <3

I don't feel the need to explain my art to you, Warren

I am such a crabass tonight...but there are a bunch of things I forgot to say last night, so I'm gonna check the bad attitude for a bit and just write.

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This is by far this week's best PostSecret:
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I love the results that show up when you Google my name. (Can I say that without sounding like a total narcissist? It's my blog...I guess I can say whatever I want.) It's an accurate, relatively concise portrayal of my online life. Twitter, Facebook, and this blog are there; so are my race results (everything from running to uphill races to erg sprints at CU), the CSU Biochemistry Department, and the activity of my friends. I'm not embarrassed by any of it.
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Last night Courto and I had one of those only-because-we're-sisters moments, just posting and reposting the lines from one of our favorite movies on her Facebook wall. I miss her. I really hope she gets to come visit me next week.
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Wednesday afternoon, it was so nice outside that I let my Capilene dry in the sunshine on my porch:
It looked cooler in person.
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My propensity to buy an artist's music correlates directly with what kind of person I perceive him or her to be. Like, I want John Mayer's new album SO badly, but he has turned into such an awful individual that I won't spend money on it. Instead, KD is burning it for me. Barefoot Truth, on the other hand - and/or the Avett Brothers - are totally worth the money. Why support someone's lack of character?
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Quentin Tarantino is a freakin' weirdo.
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This bottle of wine was amazing:
I think all pinot noirs are good, but this one was ridiculous.
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I'm beginning to love Anne Lamott the way I loved Orlando Bloom back when I was in high school, except in a non-crush sort of way, which is to say: I loooove her. I love the things she says and the things she's involved in and the way she writes and talks. I don't love her dreadlocks, but I think it's sort of rad that she has them. Oh, her writing... I would give anything to write the way she does, and to have the insights she shares. Par example, from Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith:

"But I prayed: Help me. And then I drove to the market in silence, to buy my birthday dinner.
I flirted with everyone in sight, especially the old people, and I lightened up. When the checker finished ringing up my items, she looked at my receipt and cried, "Hey! You've won a ham!"
I felt blindsighted by the news. I had asked for help, not a ham. This was very disturbing. What on earth was I going to do with ten pounds of salty pink eraser? I rarely eat it. It makes you bloat.
"Wow," I said. The checker was so excited about giving it to me that I pretended I was, too.
How great!
A bagger was dispatched to the back of the store to fetch my ham. I stood waiting anxiously. I wanted to go home, so I could start caring for suffering people, or turn on CNN. I almost suggested that the checker award the ham to the next family who paid with food stamps. But for some reason, I waited. If God was giving me a ham, I'd be crazy not to receive it. Maybe it was the ham of God, who takes away the sins of the world."
She keeps going with the story from there, but the 'ham of God' made me laugh so hard that I had to call Mom and tell her about it, except I was so giggly that she couldn't understand the message I left on her voicemail.
Also:
"Grace means you're in a different universe from where you had been stuck, when you had absolutely no way to get there on your own."
Also:
"At times like these, I believe, Jesus rolls up his sleeves, smiles roguishly, and thinks, 'This is good.' He lets me get nice and crazy, until I can't take my own thinking and solutions for one more moment. The next morning, I got on my knees and prayed, 'Please, please help me. Please let me feel You while I adjust to not getting what I was hoping for.' And then I remembered Rule 1: When all else fails, follow instructions. And Rule 2: Don't be an asshole."

This is why I love her: she is at once so full of grace, and so screwed up and relatable. She loves the same God I do, and for most of the same reasons, and we can both be pretty pissed off that God seems to stand by while bad things happen but also understand that there is SO MUCH we don't understand. When I started reading her stories, I felt like: 'YES, I'm not the only one.' Part of why I'm so excited to start seminary is to meet other people like Annie.

Peace and Joy

Okay, I'm just going to write as much as I can possibly think of in the 11 minutes before my lunch break is over, because it's ridiculous that I've gone this long without updating this amazing mind-dump. Hopefully later I'll be inspired to write even more.
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Life is so good. I'm happy and healthy, and I laugh a lot - at work, home and play - and every single day I get to work/live/play with and run into people whose presence I really enjoy. That's all I really need from life right now.
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"Peace is joy at rest, and joy is peace on its feet." - Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith
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It's been really snowy here the last few weeks, which is AWESOME. Snow is good for business in both of my occupations, and it's incredibly good for my well-being. In fact, I spent a whopping three days this week free-skiing, which is unprecedented for my ski season. (In clarification, I could actually free-ski whenever I want, but the resort snow has been SO lousy - and the backcountry so unstable - that I choose to work. Almost every day. Several weeks, even 7 days in a row. That bad.) Sunday, the snow was so good that I skipped church and skied in Snowmass with a bunch of good buddies - KD, RS, AT, HG, SL and my roommate AB. We lapped Burnt Mountain, which is technically hikable side country (out-of-bounds, but not quite backcountry...just better snow than the front side). Then Tuesday AND Wednesday I went to Highlands. That was so awesome that I'll write more and post pictures later.
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I have costume parties to attend tonight AND tomorrow night. That's a good weekend. Tonight, I'm busting out my Elastigirl costume (from The Incredibles - my Halloween costume of four years ago), and tomorrow I'll be an angel for our Snowmass Rookie Party. It's an Angels & Demons theme...and come on, I can't really pull off the demon. Nor would I want to.
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I'm a vegan now. I'll write more about that later, too.
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I have so many Unexpected Sparks to write about that it's ridiculous, but for now, I'll close with my current favorite:
My senior year of high school I was a journalist for our newspaper staff, and one of the better ideas I concocted as a staff writer was to set up two of my friends on a blind date, which we reported on/photographed/etc. From what I remember, it went sort of awkwardly - not that I'm surprised, in retrospect - and when I texted the female half of that pair last week to remind her that I had publicly embarrassed her way back then, she told me that she ended up making out with the guy at a bar in Fort Collins a couple of years ago. TOUCHE, my friend, TOUCHE. I'm so proud. :)

Thankful.

In high school, whenever I had a bad day, I made a list in my planner of all the things for which I was thankful. Usually it was "Diet Coke Mood Adjustment" or "Escaped third period for coffee with MJ" - overly simple stuff (and, oddly, mostly beverages) intended to remind me that the world was lookin' up. I still like doing that; it's why I created this blog. So without further adieu:

Today, I'm thankful for:

*Running, even though it sucked. I did 10 miles outside of Basalt on a beautiful back road with views of snowy Sopris. It was so warm that I ran in shorts and got a watch tan. The fact that the whole thing was a survival shuffle doesn't even really matter.

*The chai in my cup

*Church yesterday. I'm still high from it. The service was great because the director of Rainbow Trail was there to lead (so we sang camp songs, like Light of the World & Holy Time - Mom, I thought of you), but even that paled in comparison with communion. Honestly, it was one of the most cathartic experiences of my life. Because it was Dìa de los Muertos, and because Spanish custom has families picnicking at the graves of their loved ones on that day, communion went like this: first, Pastor JC pointed out the 3 bottles of hand sanitizer in the sanctuary; then he told the whole congregation to come gather at the altar - and everyone balked at first, but then obliged; and then he brought out 4 large loaves of braided Mexican egg bread and 2 pitchers of red wine; and we said the Lord's Prayer together, and then "picknicked" communion until ALL the bread and wine were gone. Cups were passed around, and then loaves, and everyone pulled off pieces of bread and talked and poured (a LOT) of wine in their cups and talked some more, and a couple of people played guitar, and we ate and drank and sang and smiled until the sacrament was over. It probably took 15 minutes. I'm telling you, it was the most amazing experience. It was exactly what communion is supposed to be - fellowship with each other and the Lord and thanksgiving for what God has given us, including each other.
*Talking with (and/or playing therapist to?) both MM and AB tonight, then Facebook chatting BS. I miss my friends.

*The amazing Anne Lammot book I'm reading, Traveling Mercies. She is so flawed AND so good.

Monday Matters

This morning, when I was in Starbucks working on my essay, my friend SC and I were watching the snow fall and talking about our excitement - about winter, about skiing, about eggnog. Et cetera. And the dairy delivery man must have heard me, because as he walked past us, he set a quart of eggnog on our table and said, "Enjoy, ladies!" We dissolved in giggles - how random is that? - and after he left, I walked up to the counter and asked the sweet baristas to make us eggnog lattes out of our gift. They obliged (at no cost, natch). What a morning!

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Look at what our sweet government is doing! I just got my hands on a shiny, new, FREE copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Although I read it freshman year of high school, I'm reading it again today, because there are events in Aspen starting on Wednesday. Now go and do likewise! I'm sure that if this is such a big deal in my small town, it's an even bigger deal elsewhere.
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The fall colors are just past peak in Snowmass. This is what my place looked like the other day:
and
And this is what it looked like this morning! There's almost enough snow to ski up on the Cirque...
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Last night I went for a six mile run up Independence Pass (well, the bottom of the pass anyway). It was raining, and the further up the pass I ran, the more the rain turned into snow. About three miles in, my iPod died, which really annoyed me - until I realized that there were elk bugling all around me! It was surreal! I think God was trying to say, "Hey, Kels, check in!!"
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This made me BEAM yesterday. My favorite band playing the theme song to my favorite show! It's just delightful.

The life and times of Firecracker Girl

What a month it's been.

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Where did I last leave off? The rest of our San Francisco trip was amazing. Of course, the girls and I could go to Detroit or Fargo or somewhere equally loathsome and have the time of our lives, but still...the trip was amazing. We laughed so hard we cried; we rode the trolleys until we actually knew our way around the city; we ate out A LOT. (Dim Sum, by the by, was disgusting.) When we take these trips, I get the feeling from the people around us that they're not only jealous of our tradition but also jealous of our relationship with each other, and I think that's valid. I'm so blessed to have these cousin-sisters.
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My other August Adventures:
-I hiked Mount of the Holy Cross with my buddy MM (my best friend in Aspen this summer) - his first 14er, my third. As the peak is outside Vail, we camped at the trailhead the night before and got an early start. It was a long day - 14ish miles and an elevation gain of almost 8,000' - and we polished off the hike at DELICIOUS Larkburger in Edwards. (I think that should be its real name - "DELICIOUS Larkburger".)

Our peak

On top of the world

The best organic cheeseburger and truffle fries in the universe

-The week after that, MM and me and two other friends from the Ute hiked the Lincoln Group, a collection of four 14ers (Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln & Bross) that can easily be bagged in a day. We had fun (I have fun pretty much everywhere I go), and it wasn't really worth writing about.
-A couple of weeks later, AJS joined MM and I to hike Mount Elbert, the tallest 14er in Colorado. We intended to hike Mount Massive, Elbert's neighbor, specifically because a Black Hawk crashed on its summit just a few days prior to our hike, but we found the trailhead taped off and decided not to mess with the military. That hike, too, wasn't notable, but we had burgers afterwards and had a great day.
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KH & SD's wedding - Salt Lake City, Labor Day weekend
To be blunt, I've been looking forward to this weekend since approximately September 2004. KH is my best friend from college - someone I refer to as my brother, all hyperbole aside - and his dear wife has been by his side since their junior year of high school, so there was never much question of if they'd marry, only when. The really grand part of the weekend was being back in the company of my people, my truly best friends - KH of course, plus AJS, BB and KK. The latter 3, Courto and myself shared a hotel room that was next door to one shared by some other pals of ours, so we spent the long weekend as a 10-some. The Residence Inn, it should be said, is a fabulous establishment. For $89 a night - a mere 20 bucks a pop after taxes - all of us broke postgrads had a spacious suite (with enough bathroom space to prepare for a wedding, natch), a pool and hot tub, a grill, a full breakfast each morning, a stocked kitchen bigger than the one in my apartment, internet access and a gym (which we actually used). Using the hotel as home base, we came and went all weekend - KK and I ran down the bike path; AJS and the other boys did their groomsmen thing; all of us went to Snowbird for the afternoon, then checked out the Temple the next day. It was especially clutch to have a big place on Sunday night, when we watched YOUR Colorado State University Rams destroy the CU Fluffs with standard creature comforts (Papa Murphy's and Fat Tire) not usually afforded in college-student-unfriendly Sandy, UT.
Anyhoo, here's the weekend in pictures:

As soon as BB landed, AJS appropriated his attire. SO funny.

BB and myself at the reception (note the merlot):
BB with, from left, JN, best man MG's girlfriend KD and JT (KH's fraternity brothers)
We went Aunt Karen a drink text of this picture:

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That brings us to the present. Currently I'm training my buns off (literally) for the Golden Leaf Half Marathon from Snowmass to Aspen this Saturday. I'm psyched - I haven't been in shape in a long time, and it feels really good to have my running legs back. I figured out that I have free yoga videos on Comcast OnDemand, so I've been doing yoga every night before bed, too, and drinking water like a fiend. I have a happy body.
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A couple of Unexpected Sparks:
-The title of this blog comes from the nickname MM christened me with: Firecracker Girl. He was amazed at how much crap I could pack into a day, and how uncomfortable it made me to sit around. I found the moniker more than endearing. I hope it sticks.
-It snowed at my apartment yesterday.
-My fantasy football team is OWNING the league right now. My team name: The New Sheriff in Town. Peyton Manning is so money.
-Part of why I love summer is the reading time it affords. In the last week, I've cranked through Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer, Sports Nutrition for Endurance Athletes by Monique Ryan, Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Nhat Hanh and Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist, in addition to about a dozen magazines (two months' worth of Outside, National Geographic Adventure, Real Simple, Glamour and Marie Claire).

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As it is the autumnal equinox, I leave you with a parting shot that sums up my summer:

"You have the opposite of poker face. You have, like, miniature golf face." - Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

Thursday

Life threw me a billion curve balls today. A couple of them nailed me in the face.

Anyway, today's unexpected sparks -
*Waking up at 7:03am.
*Being happy about waking up at 7:03am.
*"Minding, but not minding..."
*November's Marie Claire in my mailbox
*Getting to sleep in my own bed for the first time in eight days
*Finally getting a hold of seminary stuff
*READING TIME . . . and the necessary thinking time to accompany it
*Family togetherness
*FOUR profound moments of serendipity
*Office viewing parties with AS, ES & GW
*"Maggie=Sarah Palin"
*Reconnecting with very old friends (TB, WC, lots of other Werner and Collins kids)
*Quality time at Road - getting to know BS, making fun of ZH for texting, gawking at JT's behavior. RG even bought me a drink - who knew? What a night!
*AJS' pronouncement that he's training in Aspen come November - coincidence, schmoincidence

I spend too much time online . . . and nothing I write at 1:46am is going to be profound.