I haven't blogged in a long time.  I've written... three big papers, four mid-terms, and six quizzes in the last two weeks... but I haven't blogged.  I miss it when I'm gone.  Reading week has arrived.  I will read.  I will rest.  I will take naps in the afternoon.  I will write.  I will blog.  Looking forward to moments with you in the next ten days.

May we bravely remove the lens through which we see this mid-February season - whether that be the rose-tinted lens of romance, or the bitter lens of loneliness.  May we begin to choose the practice of genuine love daily, for the grocery store cashier, the girl who lives across the hall, the one we've condescended as a misfit instead of initiating real friendship, the friend who betrayed us, the crush that rejected us, the clique that mocked us, the parent we have pushed away to gain our independence, the boss we don't respect, the friend we've always taken for-granted, the stranger we would otherwise walk by... with the people and in the places where we feel least comfortable.  May we learn to see people - ourselves included - the way the Creator of all sees us and rest in the experience of His complete approval.  May we muster the courage to admit how deeply we long for love.  May we relegate romanticized love to its right place as salt and pepper seasonings instead of the means by which we fill our love-hungry appetites.  May we grow to savour relationship instead of romance.  And in time, may your romance grow to reflect the way in which your Saviour romances your soul, knowing deeply and being deeply known, not so that you may bask in the pleasure of rich romance, but that the richness of your relationship spills over to invite others into inclusive community rather than flaunting your exclusivity.  May we learn what it means to say, "I love you", and live it.

PS... if you have a minute, follow the link to Brene Brown's blog - Ordinary Courage - and read her Valentines' Day post from which I obtained this quote... it's pretty great.

Jalike one small kid...

Da peopo wen bring dea small kids by Jesus, cuz dey like fo him put his hands on top dea heads an pray fo dem.  Wen Jesus guys see dat, dey wen scold da peopo cuz dey wen do dat.  But Jesus tell da kids fo come, and he say, "Let da small kids come by me, an no stop dem, cuz da peopo dat get God fo dea King, inside demself dey jalike dese kids.  Dass right!  An I like tell you guys dis too: Whoeva no take God fo be his King jalike one small kid, he no can get God fo his King."

Luke 18:15-17

(Da Jesus Book - Hawaii Pidgin New Testament)

Don't get me wrong... I love school.  I like learning.  I get a thrill out of batting around ideas in class or with my profs.  I delight in the process of drafting and word-smithing until I know my essays communicate my thoughts clearly.  I dread tests, but who doesn't?  Sometimes, however, I feel like I'd learn more if I spent my years contemplating just one or two ideas... internalizing them... learning what it means to live them in practice... soaking up the wisdom of people who have walked this way... resting in the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing of worth that I can offer to my God except a trusting, childlike heart.  And maybe learning to speak Hawaii Pidgin.  Sometimes I'd like to ditch school altogether and head off to Bangladesh to hang out with the kids in this picture.  But in the meantime, I'm enjoying the purpose in this season, and asking God for a renovation/addition to be put into the development plan for my short- and long-term memory that I may better retain (and hopefully apply) excessive quantities of information.  By the way... if you stumbled your way through that paragraph, congrats!  Go back and read it again out loud.  The effect is incredible - if you're good at it - and quality entertainment for bystanders either way.

Vaguebooking

If you, like me, have a memory for useless information, you may recall from my post on January 19th that the average secondary student learns 5000 new words every year, while only 200 new words are taught in the school system.  One has to wonder... where do all these new words come from, and won't we ever run out of words to learn?  Nope.  Never.


As for their origins... I have no idea, but here's one of my newest favourite ridiculous linguistic compositions - 

Vaguebooking An intentionally vague Facebook status update, that prompts friends to ask what's going on, or is possibly a cry for help.

Mary is: "wondering if it is all worth it"
Mark is: "thinking that was a bad idea"
 Example:
"Have you talked to Mark? He's vaguebooking again. I wonder if he's back with Mary..." 

Closely related, and also a favourite....


HistrionicsExaggerated dramatic behavior designed to attract attention.
Example:Discussions around the issue have been based as much in histrionics as in history.

Day 2 Part 3 - The Amazing Race

As you may have noticed, our road trip was eventful in all the right ways, complete with a prank call home regarding the irony of driving through Dyer Straits... until this moment.  The moment when our trip turned into a ridiculous episode of The Amazing Race.  

Team Bartell-Smith find their first Clue!

We were already well into Manitoba when the check engine light came on.  The sound of the engine hadn't changed.  No changes in how it drove, and we were in the middle of nowhere so I decided to keep driving.  

Detour for Team BS! 

Just as we rolled into Headingley, we decided to stop for a bathroom break, and as we slowed to roll into the gas station parking lot... a vibration in the engine so big that it felt a little like we had a flat tire.  Uh oh...  I rolled up to the gas station and turned off the engine, certain that I should not turn it on again.

All of our problem-solving abilities kicked into gear, and we came up with this logical two-stage plan of action:
1. Use the bathroom.
2. Call my dad!

Of course, the most logical plan of action is to call one's father and ask for help.  It was only once I was on the phone with him, and realized that there was very little that he could do (either to diagnose my engine or to fix it), and that I didn't even know what I needed, except a shoulder to cry on and someone to just make the problem go away.  (Aren't dads supposed to be able to do that?)  Dyer Straits began to seem like such a friendly place, and the irony of my little phone call home began to sink in.

Team BS decides to try a different tactic...
It wasn't getting any warmer outside, and Sarah and I were feeling increasingly hungry, and a solution to the problem was becoming ever more pressing.So I did a second mental inventory, and Sarah and I split up the work:
1. We need to know where we are (as at that time, I had no idea what hole-in-the-ground Manitoba town we had landed in).
2. We need to know where to tow the car to... aka - I need a trustworthy mechanic.
3. We need a tow truck to take the car from here to there.
4. We need another vehicle so that I can finish this now-complicated move to Manitoba.
5. We need supper.

Team BS gains momentum... the task is nearly complete!

The cashier at the gas station proved incredibly helpful in providing our exact location, and AMA was cooperative in sending a tow truck that wasn't too far away.  My dad and I decided that the Honda dealership would be the best bet for a mechanic because the engine would require diagnosis.  Sarah found the address for the nearest Honda dealership, and only car rental place left open in Winnipeg at 6 pm on a Saturday night, so that we could make our way to Otterburne.  I recruited my mother's assistance, who recruited Alicia Sawatzky - a friend from waaaaay back in the day who lives in Winnipeg - to pick us up from the Honda dealership once we had dropped the car off and take us across Winnipeg to the Enterprise rental lot.  I spoke with the Honda people to make arrangements to drop the car off.  Sarah made rice cakes and cheese for supper... a light supper, but food in the belly is something to be thankful for.  All in all... a smooth operation!  

Jenni takes on the "Who can beat the cold?" Road-block for Team BS

Not too long thereafter, our friendly tow-truck man, Shawn showed up and we hooked Kezzie up to the truck and limped our way over to 1717 Waverley, where a big bold Honda sign stood at the road to greet us.  We unhooked and said goodbye to our new friend Shawn.  Left a key and a note in the drop-box, and settled in to wait for Alicia.  Considered that Alicia may not know how to find one silver Civic in a sea of silver Civics, and pulled out my new white Helly Hanson down-filled jacket (beeeeautiful!), planted my new muskrat hat on my head, and pulled on another pair of wool socks, as we were, by now freeeeeezing!  (I know you can't really see the muskrat hat on my head... but it's pretty rad.  Sarah hunkered down with her rabbit-fur mittens as slippers (thank you, Indian Head!) for the wait.  

Just as I was pulling my snow pants up so that I could bear the wind and cold and stand out front to wait for her, I saw her drive by, and jumped out of the car to chase her down... without success.  She didn't see me or my marvelous warm jacket.  But hope against hope, I stood out at the road to see if she'd return, and she certainly did, not more than a few minutes later.  I thoroughly enjoyed the unexpected, unbeatable opportunity to spend time with a friend whom I had not anticipated seeing this early in the year.  Not only that, but she offered to feed!!!!! us... something that one can't object to when supper consisted of rice cakes and cheese.  

Sarah takes on the "Who's an arctic road-runner?" Roadblock for Team BS

We dropped into the Enterprise lot just in time to get a little red compact.  There was a little confusion about Kezzie's keys, as I realized that I may have locked my spare set into Kezzie before closing the door... where they, and all my other belongings would be stuck until the Honda dealership opened on  Monday.  But it took only a few minutes for the rational powers that be (aka Alicia and Sarah) to set me straight.  With keys in hand, we headed back toward the Honda dealership, following Alicia so we wouldn't get lost.  But just before we got back to the Honda dealership, we passed her by, Alicia having waited for us as she thought we were further behind.  And Sarah and I sat at the light... not more than a couple blocks from the dealership, and wondered how in the world we were to tell Alicia not to go back and comb the city of Winnipeg trying to find us.  

Sarah made a brilliant suggestion, "I'll just jump out and run back there and you go ahead to the dealership.  I'll meet you there."  Nothing like making a sacrifice for the team.  I objected, though not strongly enough, and Sarah jumped out into -40 weather with just a hoodie and a vest on, just as the light turned green.  So I got to the dealership and started unloading Kezzie the Civic of her burdens to expedite the process once the girls got there.  They did get there... in one piece, though Sarah's lungs were objecting strongly to their little expedition into the cold.  (Please note that Sarah's lungs continue to complain throughout the remainder of this narrative, all the way until January 11th when I dropped her off at the airport.  Let's be really clear about the fact that I feared I may have given my road trip buddy the gift of pneumonia to take back to Alberta with her.)  

Team BS convinces Alicia to join the team and take on the "Load it or Lose it" detour.

We finished the unloading... reloaded it all into Little Red the Enterprise compact, and jumped into the car, and that was when I realized... Uh oh... I don't know where the keys are.  (You'd think I would have learned from the first key-loss incident of the evening).  I remembered seeing big tag on them saying that if you lose this set of keys, you owe Enterprise $250... but I couldn't remember where I had put the key that was attached to that big you-owe-$250-if-you-lose-them tag.  So I revisited my stunning problem-solving skill set and made a plan of action...

1. I checked Kezzie... no keys.

2. I retraced my steps from Kezzie the Civic to Little Red the compact... no keys.

3. I recalled setting it on the back seat.  I looked at the back seat, now buried under my belongings. 

4. I felt foolish.

So... we set about UNloading Little Red.  Alicia ended up hurling herself head-first into the melee with only her feet sticking out the back of the hatchback.  We all bemoaned the fact that no camera crew was sent with our team to document this moment.  But Sarah scored the key discovery, and we RE-loaded Little Red for the next leg of the journey... to supper.

Team BS finally makes the Pit Stop

A long conversation and a lot of food later, warm right down to the bone, Sarah and I set out from Alicia's house for the final leg of the journey down to Providence at Otterburne, where we RE-unloaded Little Red, and landed on the Check-in Mat only a few minutes past midnight.  We slept... and slept... and slept... and then got up and ate apple sauce and granola for breakfast on my new bed (while I wore that ridiculous smile on my face because sometimes you have to choose whether you'll laugh or cry).  I fell off the bed.  Sarah documented the moment.  And so begins a whole new adventure...

...a new adventure that would include a $3500 bill to put a new "used" engine in my car (ouch!), the gift of getting to know a new suite-mate, the challenging adventure of taking new classes at a new school, the sometimes lonely adventure of making new friends in a new place, exploring new church families...

...sometimes I could abandon the new adventure and retreat to the safety and comfort of something more familiar.  But it is then that I am reminded that, like Cortez who, after landing on the sandy beaches of the New World, ordered his men to burn the ships, I am committed to following through.  Finishing well.  So, because I know my fickle heart, I'll burn the ships behind me, and build bridges ahead of me, trusting that they'll lead me full circle and I'll eventually find myself at home.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/46587/burn_the_ships.html

Day 2, Part 2 - Indian Head

The grain elevator turned tea house and collectibles shop in Indian Head, SK.  We pulled into the parking lot for two reasons... (1) the need to make a rad spontaneous stop, and (2) I'm pretty sure either Sarah or I needed to dispose of the excessive amounts of tea we drank throughout the trip.

I apologize for not taking pictures of what we found inside.  It was AMAZING!  (I over-dramaticize for my own sake... not really caring if it annoys you.)  An eclectic mix of new and old, beautiful and ugly, relics and cheap trinkets.  A pair of rabbit fur mittens for ten dollars and a legit muskrat fur hat for twenty (and no tax - it's on the reserve).  Cookbooks from the oldest Mennonite families around.  Pottery and tea cups (Kirby - your dog mug too!).  Clothing of every variety.  Big phat rings and butterfly broaches.  The lady in charge said that four sisters just opened the place after collecting items for about twenty-five years.  Eich-a-rumba!  That's a long time...  She was warm and talkative, and within a few minutes, I was convinced that I'd best get a B&B in Indian Head next time I need a place to sleep en route.

With that confirmed, and our loot in hand, Sarah and I departed for the last leg of the trip.  Listened to music, sucked the chocolate off of chocolate covered goji berries just to find out what goji berries look like, compared our big phat rings, saw evidence of my family's vast mennonite influence (aka a Bartel truck), and contemplated the ridiculous names chosen for small Saskatchewan towns (Piapot... anyone?).

The Goji Game

Dark chocolate covered Goji berries.

Berries of comparable size selected for contest.

Rules:

1.  Be the first to suck all of the chocolate off the Goji berry.

2.  No chewing allowed.

Game face.

Moment of triumph!

Sad loss... it's okay, you can try again next time, Sarah.

GOJI!

Having now proved how ridiculous I am... I will now move onto some other venture (like my homework).

Roadtrip Day 2 - Dyer Straits

After sleeping on an extraordinarily comfortable bed and eating a delish, but not extraordinary breakfast at the Dragonsnest B&B in Regina, SK, Sarah and I set out for our second day of travel toward the wintery land of Manitoba.  Not too many miles down the road, we noted a sign that said Dyer Straits... apparently one of those hole-in-the-ground places in SK.  Makes you wonder what story prompted the naming of that small place.  Drove straight through, didn't stop for fear that we'd actually end up in dire straits.  Called home and told her we were in Dyer Straits, and enjoyed the joke for thirty seconds before breaking down and telling her that we were safe, enjoying the drive, with no road bumps on the horizon.  A few minutes later, I checked my rearview and noted that the trunk had popped open of its own accord.  Dang!  How long had that been?  Stopped.  Checked the contents - none appeared to be missing - closed the trunk and continued on our merry way, thankful to have evaded any dire circumstances.  Next stop... Indian Head.