We've Been FLOCKED!

I saw this poster near our house:

I emailed lawrenceflockers@gmail.com. Justin emailed me back almost immediately.

The deal was for $10 we were renting 20 flamingos for 24 hours. Turned out to be 13 flamingos, and they were here four days, but that's fine, too.

Ashley was quite surprised when she came home from work and saw the flock.

Just a small spurt of fun before Ashley's new adventures began.

Officially Now a Mule

Trying to think on the positive side, tonight I was able to attend convocation at virtually Muhlenberg. In a typical year it would not have been live streamed. I still wish it was a "typical" year and she was having the experience of signing the book all previous Mules signed and standing outside with the other 539 members of her class in the official candlelight ceremony. May we get Corona virus under control and be able to gather in person again.

We have been on a roller coaster of emotions for the past few weeks. Muhlenberg has moved from Plan A (typical year) to at least Plan G (for Dean Gulati). One plan called for everyone moving back on campus this week. The latest plan was only first year students and select upper class men (RAs, people doing research, people demonstrating a need to be on campus). Most classes will meet virtually. Everyone will have a single (which will make attending virtual classes easier). They are encouraged to keep their doors open and make friends -- just keep the mask on!

The closer we got to the August 21st move in the date we started to hear about bigger schools already sending their students home. Would Muhlenberg do the same? Should we really buy stuff to fill her dorm room? Is this making any sense at all? 

To answer the last question, it makes sense to us, especially to Ashley. She needs to spread her wings. She will be as safe in Allentown, PA as she would be at home. She will meet more people in person than online. In short, it was a family decision, the same one the vast majority of her classmates made. 

The day before move in day Ashley was in absolute tears about going. This is not a typical Ashley reaction. She was scared. Petrified. I advised her to give it a week. She has gone away for a week before. One week was less scary than 13 weeks. If at the end of the week she truly hated it, she could come home and learn from home. I truly anticipated she would love it.

We arrived at 11:30 for a 3 pm move in slot. Why so early? Because once our slot was over she had to jump into being a college student. There were mandatory meetings. We wanted an opportunity to walk the campus with her, help her to become comfortable with her new surroundings. Where is the book store? The technology room where her loaner laptop was waiting (it has been a week)? The local ice cream parlor? The closest grocery store? Is the area safe (yes!)? We simply spent time together that we have not been able to do with Ashley saying good-bye to friends, and squeezing in last shifts at Jerry's Artarama, and finally striking the set with her favorite teachers and best friends. I will always be grateful that worked out for her. Two days later and she would have left Lawrenceville.

The time came. We got the key to her room (fortunately the gave her the ID earlier when we said we had to pick up the loaner laptop). Being this is 2020, we each had to do a health screening and be cleared to be healthy enough to go on campus. Being it is 2020, there were no strong guys on hand to carry the fridge up a flight of stairs (the rest we could handle). Being this is 2020, we had to vacate in two hours, and are not allowed to return until we move her out -- hopefully on November 21 (the same day as my gala).

I made her bed -- likely for the last time in her life (she makes her own bed at home, this was for me). We unpacked. Don went to Wegmans to fill the fridge with dairy-free food. At first two hours seemed like a long time, but then it was time to leave her. How did that happen?

Her room is next door to the bathroom. Abby, a girl she was going to room with, is across the hall. She has met her "family unit" -- the couple of other people whose rooms she can enter. Muhlenberg hopes to expand that to the floor, then to the dorm, the school, etc. All depends on how the virus behaves. Her "family unit" is the same as the girls she will share the shower and toilet with (taking turns, of course). The school has worked hard to create new plans. They want this to succeed. They want the students on campus. 

The time leading up to Friday was stressful. Take the normal stress of sending your child off to college and add in a pandemic. That level of stress. We didn't actually start to believe she was moving into her room until the students who had the Thursday shift moved into their rooms. Every time we received a message from the school we held our breath before reading it. Would this be the one saying they cannot move into the dorm after all?

We held off on buying the bigger items (like the fridge) until last week. Oh, and the new laptop. The old laptop cannot handle Zoom --  a necessity in 2020. The one we ordered disappeared between Target and UPS (we can cancel it). The new one is on back order. The ones in stock are $1,600 instead of the $200 model we want. Muhlenberg is loaning her one. When the new one arrives after September 1st we'll drive it up and celebrate my birthday.

Her mailbox for the next four years

Really not that much stuff.
Extra pillows are for the spare bed in the room.

Settling in

Welcome Packet 2020 -- masks, hand sanitizer. glow stick for candle lighting ceremony, and contact-free door opener.

Her view

Brave smile -- which is growing as she meets people

A single, but with the furniture of a double.
How is a second person and her stuff supposed to fit in here?

So far so good. Ashley is making friends. No more tears (though I suspect there will be some at some point, it is only normal). Her "family unit" is petitioning to add Abby (they currently have three people, and Abby's unit has four) because Ashley and Abby were planning to room together in the first place. Ashley is going to activities, and meeting more people.

This won't be the freshman experience we anticipated, but neither was senior year. Speaking of senior year, we received an email as we pulled onto the Muhlenberg campus that her yearbook is finally ready to be picked up. A day earlier... High school is over. Time for college.

RIP Ruby the Honda CRV

The insanity of move-in day ended with Don's 17-year old Honda CRV dying less than two miles from home. Earlier in the day we wondered if Ruby the CRV would pass inspection in October. Of course we have wondered this through the past few biennial inspections.

The list of what is wrong with the car is probably longer than the list of what is right. The air-conditioning died a few years ago. The drivers' side window does not close all the way, neither does the sun roof. The last car (also a Honda CRV) he drove until he was advised to drive without wearing a seat belt and to have a fire extinguisher handy. Yes, we drive our cars into their graves.

As we crossed over I-95 we heard a clunk, which was followed by the check battery light coming on. We still had to to through the jug handle and climb up a big hill followed by right, left, right turns home. Meanwhile the power steering had stopped working. Start praying.

By God's grace we made it through the traffic light without having to wait. He also guided us up the hill. Water mysteriously appeared on the windshield. From the radiator? Followed by some smoke. Steam from the radiator?

Don decided to park in the street in case it caught on fire. He could not open the hood.

I jumped out of the car grabbing everything I could -- the camera, new Muhlenberg shirt, loose items in the car. I don't remember what I grabbed, but I do remember the camera hitting me in the back of the head by my metal barrette when I bent down to pick something up. Ouch! 

The next day we drove back to Muhlenberg to pick up the "Ashley Mobile," the car we left in case she has to do an emergency eviction due to COVID. 

Don spent much of the weekend researching new cars. Hopefully we'll have an announcement soon.

Meanwhile, we are selling Ruby for scrap. She was a good car. Many long trips from Florida to Canada and in-between. She was bought as my car to be able to transport Don and Ashley (in a bucket car seat at the time) at the same time --  a job my beloved Saturn SC Coupe could not handle. When I bought the Corolla (which is now the Ashley Mobile), Don took over the CRV. He is a Honda man.

It was a good car. It made it from car seat to college.

Time for new adventures.

 

WiNK Preaching -- Weariness

(Some modifications since preaching on August 9, 2020)

A few years ago a friend’s running club celebrated its 13^th anniversary. As a good Jewish boy, he threw the running club a bar mitzvah (he also threw one for his car when the Saturn turned 13). I asked him what scripture he used and he quoted Isaiah 40:31: “but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Expanded the text reads:

28Do you not know?

Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He will not grow tired or weary;

His understanding is beyond searching out.

29He gives power to the faint

and increases the strength of the weak.

30Even youths grow tired and weary,

and young men stumble and fall.

31But those who wait upon the LORD will renew their strength;

they will mount up with wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not faint.

(Or maybe it was Hebrews 12:1-2: Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, I should have asked my friend.)

I remember learning at WiNK Isaiah was written by three different people at three different times. Chapter 40 is the start of Deutero-Isaiah, or the second section, which focuses on the exile from Babylon. Wait upon means to put our hopes in God, and be confident it will work out. It was said to a people who had nothing to lose by putting their faith in God. He is there for us even today as we don’t see him in the weariness of life. Sound familiar?

This waiting reminded me of my favorite verse: Matthew 6: 25-27 “²⁵ Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment? ²⁶ Behold the birds of the heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you of much more value than they? ²⁷ And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit unto ^[a]the measure of his life?” (or to your height)

God does take care of us. The bible is filled with scriptures of such hope. We humans have trouble remembering that.

Let me return to weariness. It seems as if everyone I talk to these days is weary. Weary of big things like Coronavirus, and race relations. Weary of the medium things like what will school be like in the fall (which can feel like a personal big thing). Also weary of little things like picking up library books and ordering take out as it seems the rules change daily. Even Kyle preached about being wearing this morning at the early service.

As we do less because there is less we can do, some of us become weary. A friend who was furloughed is more tired now than she was working three jobs. She lost her purpose with her jobs. She lost her ability to dream about the house they were saving for with her loss of income. She is optimistic about being brought back to work someday, but that doesn’t pay the bills today.

Meanwhile I have other friends thriving as they finally have time to work on their “round tuit” lists. I envy those who are painting rooms in their home, starting non-profits, learning foreign languages, and tackling craft and home improvement projects. But even these people become weary sometimes.

You are cruising along happy about things falling into place – less traffic means it takes less time to pick up take out, and parking is a breeze. Then you become frustrated because your favorite Chinese restaurant that used to be open seven days a week until 10:30 is now only open six days a week, as they are closed on Tuesday, and then only until 8:30 at night. Why Tuesday? Why not?

Or you try to tackle a to do list item of getting your daughter’s car inspected only to realize once you are in line you left your mask at home and even though you’ve wrapped a cloth bag around your face and apologized for leaving the mask at home (a transaction taking longer than if he just inspected my car), you still have to drive home, pick up a mask, and sit in line again. You try to remind yourself at least I am blessed we can afford our cars. I’m lucky the line is short. However after five months of living la vida Corona, I’m weary and trying hard not to take it out on innocent people.

I try to remind myself I’m happy there is no longer a line to get into the grocery store when I bump into a friend I haven’t seen in months. I ask “how are you doing?” Instead of the typical “fine,” she responded “tired.”

A new friend said she combats the weariness by only doing one thing a day – one. It might be run an errand. Or see a friend. Or go to the pool. But one. Before all this hit I did multiple things in a day. Now even that one can make me weary.

I think about how things used to be, before the “new normal.” I’ll use the library as an example. I would request a book. An email would appear telling me the book was ready. I would pick it up when the library was open. I never realized how easy life was.

Then the library was closed for several months. Now they offer curbside pickup (a term that did not seem to exist five months ago). I still receive an email saying the book is available, but now I have to call during their shortened hours to schedule a 15-minute window of time to pick up the book in a day or two, or the following week. Invariably I am put on hold when I call. Then I pick up the book at a time that may no longer be convenient, but is what it is. Until this week books were not traveling between branches so I wondered why even though I was number one in the queue my DVD request was not being filled. (Edited to add: this week I went to pick up my book during the scheduled time only to not be on the list, and they could not simply go inside to get the item, I had to call to schedule a different time a day later because that day's slots were filled, even though it was their fault, and no apology was forthcoming. Patience.)

Certainly a first-world problem, but I’ve always lived in the first world and I didn’t want to lose that status, even if I can blame it on the pandemic.

There is talk that if we *only* shut down for 2-3-4-6 weeks Coronavirus would die because it would not find a new human host. Haven’t we been doing that in New Jersey for the past five months? While other states partied and said it was a New York/New Jersey problem we stayed at home. We still can’t move closer to reopening because the virus is thriving in states arguing about the merits of wearing a mask instead of saying “what will it hurt if we try it for a few weeks.” People are going to Disney and the Jersey Shore, while others are afraid to leave their homes.

We have been a divided nation for decades, centuries. I’m finding we are becoming micro-divided. I give people a silent checklist before agreeing to see them in person. Do you wear a mask? Have you left the area? Have you been on vacation? Have you been in large crowds? Are you willing to meet at a restaurant for lunch? Are you willing to meet me in the park for a walk? Will we wear masks or no masks? Do you see people outside your immediate family without a mask? Do we have similar risk-taking behavior?

There aren't necessarily right answers, I just want to know.

Making the decision who to hang out with based on new habits wears me out.

31: But those who wait upon the LORD will renew their strength;

they will mount up with wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not faint.

 

When I first decided I wanted to preach on Isaiah I imagined I would talk about running. I’m a slow runner. Most runners will tell you they are slow. We all know someone faster, even if we are comparing ourselves to superhuman marathoners like "Meb" Keflezighi. I’m thrilled the days I run a 5k under 35 minutes. At local races, the fastest person comes in around 18-20 minutes. The slowest are around 45 minutes, or even slower if the race is billed as “walker-friendly.” I rarely win an award for my age group, but I get the same swag as the faster people. I miss races.

This then made me think about the famous Martin Luther King Jr. quote: “If you can't fly then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can't walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward."

There are so many ways that can be applied today. Lately it is enough to just keep moving forward. I need to remember that.

College. I’ll call Ashley going (or not going) to college a medium on the weariness scale, but also personally overwhelming. Muhlenberg announced a few weeks ago they were committed to having all students live on campus this fall who want to live on campus. In a typical year 96% of the students live on campus. Ten days ago they announced due to rising numbers, especially among 18-24 year olds, only freshmen would be guaranteed housing. Studies show if first year students do not bond with their college in the first few weeks, they are less likely to graduate. If this continues after February, then only seniors will be guaranteed housing because studies show seniors need that closure (I wish her high school read that same survey and did more to give her high school class a chance to have that closure).

This week Princeton and Rider universities, and other schools announced no one will be living on campus in the fall. Princeton had previously said freshmen and juniors would have housing. Will Muhlenberg make the same announcement in the next 12 days? Should we buy that fridge for her dorm room? Even if she moves in on August 21, will she stay through Thanksgiving?

I know this is supposed to be a stressful time in our lives, but the pandemic is taking stress to a new level. One I do not like.

Lu Ann Cahn, local TV reporter and author of the book “I Dare Me” where she spent a year trying something new every single day, wrote an article that resonated with me about what to do when you can’t plan. Her advice was to plan for the absolute worst-case scenario figuring it won’t be that. Meanwhile knowing what the absolute worse is, helps you to better accept what does happen. Yes, Ashley will be living in a dorm room in two weeks. Or not? The absolute worst-case scenario would be her contracting Coronavirus and potentially dying. I can’t go there.

The next worst-case scenario is getting the message we have to take her out of the dorm immediately. Or is it that we are told she can’t even move into the dorm? And so we prepare. We are planning to leave a car on campus (hence the decision to get it inspected) even though prior to this we did not plan on letting her have a car on campus. At least this way she can take what is important and leave quickly. Don and I will likely not make any plans for those 13 weeks because, really, what can we do?

Two weeks ago, Kyle preached on the feeding of the 5,000. The disciples were overwhelmed when they saw all those people. They tried to encourage Jesus to send them away. Jesus knew better and had a better solution.

The American Church of Paris preached on the same story the following week. The new pastor shared how weary Jesus was in that moment. He fled to a quiet place to regroup after hearing about his cousin’s head literally on a plate presented to Herod at the request of a girl who pleased him by her dancing, and his oath to give her anything she wanted in return (Mark 6). Even Jesus could get weary, but unlike me, he rose above it and preached to a crowd of 5,000 men, plus women and children, and even provided enough food for everyone that they had plenty of leftovers. When I told Don this he replied “You are not Jesus.”

Odette, the new pastor at the American Church in Paris, emphasized love continues no matter what. Jesus’s love for those in the crowd enabled him to be able to feed them. Odette is stuck in the United States waiting for her visa that will enable her to move to Paris for the call that awaits her. The other pastors implored us to pray boldly for the path to be clear ASAP. All things are possible with God.

Perhaps that is the message of hope as we are weary of life.

Pray boldly. Trust in the Lord. Pray boldly again. And just keep moving forward.

Amen.

A couple of quick updates since I wrote this: 

Pastor Odette is still stuck in the United States.

My friend returned to work on Monday. I could see in her email her renewed sense of purpose. God is good.

Lawrence Township decided (after sending out a survey asking people's opinions, and after teachers made plans to teach in a hybrid way) to start the school year virtually. No solution is ideal, but it adds to feeling weary when you also feel your opinion is dismissed because a leader disagrees with the majority -- 60% wanted at least some in-person instruction.