And so, we pray.

This time last week we were counting down the hours until we would receive our regional assignment. Drew was in Texas when he got the call, and I was at work, so this is how I found out:

So that's it, folks. Looks like the Tuckers are gonna be southerners for a few more years :)

And with that question answered, there are a million more to ask. But last night we gathered with Drew's fellow seniors and worshipped and prayed together as we marked this important step in a process which, though at times has seemed never-ending, is in fact drawing to a close. And it was another beautiful reminder of this fantastic community that we have found ourselves so graciously welcomed into this year.  I can so vividly remember the anxiety that plagued me when our plans suddenly changed to include a year here in Columbia, but I am so grateful for the time we've had here.

And so, with that unnecessary but at the same time very necessary reminder that God is in fact taking care of us in every way, it's incredibly exciting to pray for Drew and his classmates, and to dream about the months to come and everything they will bring.

So, go ahead of us, Lord, as winter turns into spring, as midterms turn into finals, as the to-do lists are marked off and syllabi are completed. Because despite how much is still left to be done, this semester will end and a new adventure awaits.

Give us patience, Spirit, when we would rather wish away the days and weeks, ready to be done with everything that comes with being a student. Because education, let alone an advanced degree, is a privilege denied to many, and there will not often be the opportunity to learn at this level once this time is over.

Watch over us, Father, in conversations with Bishops and Synod Offices, in phone calls with call committees, in the nerves that come with interviews and the uncertainty in decision making. Because the process can be stressful, the responsibility daunting, and on our own we can't possibly hope to know what to do.

Thank you, God, for synod staff who look out for us, for families and friends praying for us, for peers who can celebrate and commiserate with us. Because it is within the Body of Christ that we see, hear and know You in new and exciting ways.

Be with us always, Jesus, and especially now. As we close this chapter and begin a new one. In the final all-nighters of studying and days in the classroom. In shared meals and time with friends that have become dear. As paperwork is distributed and calls are extended. As boxes are packed and moving trucks rented. As we say goodbye to this place, and hello to something new.

For peace when there is anxiety, focus when things just need to get done, wisdom in conversation, discernment in the process, joy in the moment, love in community, and a cool breeze on the inevitably sweltering summer day when we once again pack our life into a truck trailer and drive away, we pray.

And You hear our prayer.

Cousins

Maybe it's because I've been anticipating this weekend with my parents, or perhaps because Brother Bear's wedding is already 2.5 months gone, and it'll be another 2.5 months until we're in Fredonia again, but I am missing my cousins A LOT lately.

My sweet cousin, Alissa, shared this old photo this morning, 

prompting a lot of nostalgia and thus, this post :)

If I'm remembering the stat correctly, my dad has 26 first cousins on his dad's side, and three living siblings in addition to that [anyone wanna check my math?]. In case you're wondering, that makes for very large family reunions. Though many have moved away at one point or another, my dad and all his siblings, and several of his cousins ended up back in Fredonia, where I grew up, when they settled down and had kids.

What's so funny [ironic? sad? just a fact of life?] to me today is that many people whom I consider to be good friends have little to no idea about my crazy extended family and what a huge part of my life they are. Even as I write this, I can't talk about what being a "Conti" meant without first clarifying that Conti is my maiden name, because there are many who have never known me as anything but Michelle Tucker. Growing up and moving around is weird like that, isn't it? But that's another topic for another post. Today, I'm reminiscing about these amazing family members who are also some of my dearest friends.

To be a Conti in Fredonia was a thing. I'm the second oldest of 11 [soon to be 12!] grandchildren in my dad's family, currently ranging in age from 25 to 2 years old [or, fetus if you're counting the 12th :P]. The older seven of us were all within 5 grades of each other, and we went to the same school. Adding to the mix my second-cousins, I had at least one cousin in the four grades ahead of me, and the four grades below me, and three who graduated with me. If that isn't crazy enough for you, a good number of us also lived on the same road. As in, all of my neighbors were related to me.  A number of my aunts and uncles either taught or coached sports in the school district. One owns a health club downtown. My grandpa has been a farmer in town for most of his adult life. On several occasions people at school asked me to draw up a family tree so they could figure out exactly how I was related to this cousin or that teacher. When I introduced myself to somebody new, it was probable that once I said my last name there would be some recognition, for better or for worse. 

I've talked before about how my brother and I are pretty close, and how I being at Ashland together made me realize how abnormal that was, but even growing up I was never under any delusion that the situation with my extended family was "normal." While many of my friends only saw their cousins for holidays or special events, I saw mine all the time. We had our own friend groups and niches, but inevitably our activities and experiences were interwoven. Bus rides, choir, sports practices and rides home were most often shared with at least one cousin.  We sang in church and ate spaghetti at Nana's almost every Sunday. In the summers we did chores, had sleepovers, explored the creek, went to camp and had bonfires together.  When the younger cousins came along, they became our first babysitting victims charges. We weren't just family, we were friends, classmates, cheerleaders and, occasionally, adversaries. It wasn't normal, 

it wasn't perfect, but man was it fun :)

How do you transition from being so intertwined in the lives of this many to seeing them 2-3 times a year? Not easily. 6 seasons since I left Fredonia and I still hate that I can't watch Alissa's XC meet this weekend, despite how vividly I can remember the discomfort of being outside all day to watch her run in high school when there was 2 feet of snow on the ground. For all the hours and days I spent at soccer games or wrestling tournaments for the older boys, I hate that I may never get to see Sammy play for his high school team, or watch Jules march with the band. I especially hate that I can probably count on two hands the number of times I've seen Patrick since he's been born, and the same will probably be true for the new baby in her first 2 years. It may be normal for many people to only share in the accomplishments of their extended family from afar, but it still does not feel normal to me.

The grandchildren, plus spouses :)

I've loved the past 6 years since I graduated from high school, and I don't regret my choices to go away to college or the moves that followed. But I will never stop missing these dear people when I'm away from them, and I wouldn't want to. Missing them is hard, but I feel so incredibly blessed that I have so much to miss.

Ashland

6 years ago today, I moved into the dorms at Ashland for the first time. I can remember how absolutely terrified I was as I prepared to meet my new roommate and say goodbye to my family. I also remember how quickly I realized that Lauren was pretty great, and I was going to be just fine.

Freshman year Religious Life Retreat

It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I loved my years at AU. It was an incredible time of personal and spiritual growth for me. I [almost always] really enjoyed the courses I took, especially the classes in the Religion department. I found amazing friends and a wonderful faith community.

2010 Call Retreat at Mowana

The campus went through times of joy and sadness, and so did I. As is normal for a college student, life was often crazy and busy. Late nights of reading and paper-writing in between doing rounds in Clayton as an RA. Early mornings for class or giving tours for the Admissions' office on the weekends. 

Clayton Hall staff Fall 2010

For three and a half years I spent Thursday nights at the Well, had countless movie nights in the dorms, and braved the long Convo lines for brunch on the weekends. There was morning coffee or late night snacks in the Eagles' nest, homework in Lower Chapel, and playing piano in the practice rooms. I found friends and mentors, watched relationships begin, survived road trips and retreats, and learned how to nap.

Oh... and I met this guy. And then Tom came to Ashland as well. And he met a girl.

I guess you can say that AU was good to us :)

Someone find me a cellist

Yesterday I asked my supervisor if I could start playing a classical Pandora station at my desk. I'm in a front office, mostly by myself, and the quiet was starting to get to me. She graciously obliged, and so I've been enjoying the likes of Mozart and Bach and Debussy. Pandora is quickly adapting to my love of all the stringed instruments, and every time a piece performed by a cello comes on I reaffirm my desire to find a good cellist to keep around at all times. Seriously. What a beautiful instrument.

Nothing really important to say about this, except that after just 8 or so hours of listening to classical music, I find myself missing the piano. And my dad. Can't really listen to classical music and not think about Dad. I'm grateful for parents who encouraged me to be musical, who found me good teachers and wouldn't let me quit on a whim. And for my Dad and his genuine love and appreciation of music, from the Beatles to Chopin. That kind of passion is a wonderful gift to share with your kids.

That's all I've got today. Love for the cello and for Dad. 

Happy Friday :)

That week in Chicago

So much life has happened in the last month. I've started several posts at different times to update y'all on our life and what is happening, but they always fell by the wayside.

And now, as I sit in our very messy, 1/4 unpacked apartment in Columbia, I'm still not going to explain what's happening with us. Not today.

What brings me back to the blogging world this morning is that, four years ago today, I was having reconstructive back surgery at Northwestern University Hospital in Chicago.

I've made mention of this anniversary the last couple years on Facebook. But when I woke up this morning and realized the date, I wondered about whether I should say anything about it; whether recalling attention to that time is relevant, or necessary, or worth the time. Let's be honest, my back has had enough attention to last a lifetime.

But when I recall that week of hospitalization in 2009, it's not the surgery I think about. It's not the pain and the struggle that I dwell on. The shining memory from those seven days, and the days of my recovery that followed, is how incredibly loved I felt by those who cared for me.

My surgery and subsequent recovery was the most humbling (read: often humiliating) time of my entire life. I was literally unable to do anything by myself. I needed help just to get out of bed, let alone walk, eat, clean/dress myself, etc. I hate to ask people for help, but I quickly had to swallow my pride and allow my caretakers to inconvenience themselves for me. To wake up throughout the night to help me move, to raise my spirits with conversation and laughter, to sleep in hospital waiting rooms, to track down nurses when I needed something, to help me eat just to deal with the sickness that followed, to sit by me as I cried and pay attention to the doctors when I couldn't focus because of the pain killers.  Most of all, to do all these things and more without ever making me feel embarrassed or like a burden.

So, on this anniversary, I want to say thank you to my parents, Drew, and Josiah. I don't know what you think about when you remember that week, but for the rest of my life, June 12th will be a day that I remember each of you with overwhelming gratitude.

May 2

There is good reason to be terrified about today. May 2 means I have 6.5 days to finish packing up my apartment, because in 10.5 days there will be a moving truck to fill and drive down to Columbia. There are also many reasons to be excited about today. May 2 means that tonight I get to see RelientK LIVE for the first time ever. Tomorrow is Friday, and we're having a birthday party for Drew in the evening. Probably seeing Iron Man 3 at some point this weekend (because... duh. Marvel). Monday is Drew's birthday! And then one week from today I'll be flying to NY and then spending the weekend celebrating Tom's graduation and his and Cait's pending nuptials. All those aside, though, I'm mostly excited about today because it marks 5 years since Drew asked me to be his girlfriend, and 4 years since he asked me to be his wife :)

Right before we started dating...

Engagement :)

Married!

October 2012

The past 5 years have brought us through graduations, surgery, new jobs, many miles on the interstate system, a dozen+ weddings, one great 4-legged addition to our family, many laughs and many sorrows. Now as we're about to move and start a new adventure, I can't wait to see what the next 5 years will bring :)

The good, the bad, and the funny

I refrained from posting much online last week. In the midst of the sadness and confusion that followed the attack in Boston, I found myself both grateful for and thoroughly frustrated by social media sites. Grateful because those of us who were states away from the grieving communities were able to show our support through prayers and well-wishes. Frustrated because, just as news and well-wishes can be sent, so can misinformation, hatred, and uneducated opinions. While I am glad to live in a country where we can basically say anything we want in any public forum, we often say absolutely anything and everything that comes to mind, even when it is unhelpful or unvalidated. That frustrates me to no end.

The one thing that really hit home with me last week was when the suspect was identified as a 19 year old. I've met many 19 year olds in the past few years at Duke. They are smart, surrounded by brilliant people, learning tools of their respective trades from leaders in their fields, and passionate about the world around them. They're 19 now, but someday they will be our country's engineers, doctors, lawyers, business owners and politicians. They have the passion and potential to significantly and positively impact the world, and I'm confident when I say that I know some who will. While I pray for that boy who hurt so many, I also give thanks for the good these others have already done and will do.

Our next few weeks will be full of end-of-the-year festivities with Duke Lutherans, and packing our apartment. So much to do, so little time, and obviously some stress along with that. Assuming you are stressed as well, here are a few goodies to make you smile :)

Brother Bear

Today my brother, Tom, turns 22 years old.

Happy birthday, dude :)

It's going to be a good year for Tom. In a few short weeks he'll graduate from Ashland University, move to Seattle to start his awesome job at Amazon, and then at the end of July he's getting married to the absolute perfect girl for him. I could not be more thrilled for both of them.

I got to spend my last year and a half at Ashland with Tommy.  I loved having him there, knowing that once I graduated I was moving to North Carolina and would thus see him a lot less.  At one point during his first semester, we were eating together in the dining hall and one of my residents came to our table when Tom was up getting food, and asked if Tom wanted to sit with him and his friends. I told him we were catching up, but thanks for the offer, to which the student replied, "Wow, my sister goes here too but we would never eat together!"

I didn't think about our relationship a ton prior to that time. Tom and I grew up doing everything together, but we were surrounded by our cousins and their siblings who also did everything together. It didn't seem odd to me that we would be friends by the end of all that, but I guess for some people it doesn't work out that way. Not everyone likes their siblings. Or, they can like them but not really be friends. Realizing that made me pretty appreciative.  We didn't always get along perfectly, but I can think back throughout our childhood and know that he has always been there for me, and vice versa.

Together, we played made-up games that spanned for months. We had names (and an intricate social hierarchy) for all our stuffed animals. We would get sent to our rooms for fighting with each other, but then sit by the shared wall in our closets so we could keep talking. We made pacts to show each other our Christmas presents early. When I first got my back brace, he helped me loosen and re-tighten it before I could do it on my own, so mom and dad wouldn't know. We survived chamber choir, wrestling seasons, and musicals together. He stayed up with me at night after my surgery, and talked to me until I could take my meds. I watched him come to Ashland and finding an amazing new group of friends, but he still found time to eat with me once in awhile when I was feeling lonely because Drew was so far away. And this past year, I've cheered him on as he took an internship in a far away city and rocked it all summer, and when he bought an engagement ring all by himself, proposed, and then landed a kick-ass job for after graduation.

So, TomTom, happy birthday. I'm so proud to see the man you have grown up to be, and glad I've gotten to be a part of the journey so far.

Here's to you, brother :)

Stan the Man

If there are no dogs in Heaven then, when I die, I want to go where they went.
- Will Rogers

One year ago today, our little family went from 2 to 3. Yes, today we are celebrating one year since we adopted our dog, Stanley, a day that Drew and I have quite adorably dubbed our "Staniversary."

Last January, after many months, Drew finally begged  persuaded me to get a dog. We had looked online at some different rescues down here, but decided the Saturday after we got back from our holiday travels to check out a few adoption events that were happening in the county over. Three pet stores later, we met Stanley.

There were two other puppies in crates when we saw Stan, and while they were flipping out he was laying calmly in his crate. He was 5-6 months old at that point, and about 30 pounds. It didn't take long for his shiny black coat, adorably floppy ears and calm but curious demeanor to win us over. We filled out the paperwork, and with the blessing of his foster mom who we met that day, we took him home!

Drew was definitely the dog person in our relationship prior to this point, but Stanley turned me into a dog person. I mean, who could resist this cutie?? Owning a dog is not always fun or convenient, but this guy makes it so worth it. He's always good for a self-esteem boost when I'm wiped after work and he is so excited to see me come home. He's a great cuddler and good company when Drew is gone. And he helps keep my kitchen floors clean. Or, at least, without any crumbs :)

Stanley was found as a 8ish week old puppy wandering the streets, malnourished and alone. But thanks to the Johnston County Animal Protection League, and Stanley's wonderful foster mom, Sherry, he was taken off the street and brought into a home full of love. Sherry trained and socialized Stanley, and I'm so grateful to her for the wonderful job she did with him. We feel so happy to have found him, and I know that a big part of that is thanks to her :)

So, if you're thinking about getting a dog (or a cat for that matter!), PLEASE consider adopting through a rescue organization! There are so many animals in need of homes, and many organizations work tirelessly to give care for these creatures who desperately need someone to love them, and who desperately want someone to love back.

 So, as I finish typing this post and Stanley quite adorably rests his head on my arm, I am feeling very blessed and so grateful. Grateful that Drew convinced me to get a dog, grateful to Sherry for taking such good care of Stanley until we found him, and grateful for this silly and wonderful creature falling asleep against me, who has, in one short year, taught me so much about love and companionship. I'm happy to have you to love, Stan the Man, and so glad that you love us back.

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. 
- Roger Caras

Confused Thankfulness [#3]

It's 1:19 a.m., so I can officially say Happy Thanksgiving to y'all.

Last year when I was up this late (or, early, rather) on Thanksgiving it was because we were getting ready to host our first Thanksgiving dinner. This year I'm not cooking anything, and I'm pretty ok with it ;)

No, this year we are traveling for Thanksgiving. In a few short hours we will drive to the airport and get on a plane to Colorado to spend the holiday weekend with Drew's parents, our sister-in-law and her family, and finally meet our nephew, Benjamin.

One of my favorite pics of the little guy so far :)

The traveling will be crazy for sure, but I'm excited to spend a few days with Drew where neither of us have work expectations, to see family we don't get to spend time with often, and to get as much of this precious boy as possible.

We're leaving for the airport at like 3:30 a.m., so I decided to just stay up and keep busy in hopes that once we get on the plane, I'll be so exhausted that I can't help but fall asleep, no matter how uncomfortable I may be. Drew decided to go to bed a couple hours ago, so I've been enjoying some introvert time, cleaning, packing, and putting up the Christmas tree.

[blurry pic of the tree from Photobooth]

I've been thinking some about growing up. My brother and his fiancee are spending Thanksgiving in NY with my family, and she tweeted earlier about it being her first holiday away from home. I realized as I responded with support to her, that this is my 6th [major] holiday from home. I was a bit taken aback by that. I can't believe how quickly these last few years have gone. That first holiday away is such a big thing. Now it's a fact of life. It's not any easier to know what I'm missing by not being in my childhood home surrounded by the family who raised me. I'm still looking forward to the next time I'll be in that place with those people, and in the years to come I will always hope that we can spend these particularly special days of the year with them.

But, I find myself torn this Thanksgiving. Torn between all the different places I want to be. I want  to be in Fredonia, playing Dutch Blitz with Tom and Cait, helping my Mom get the house ready for dinner tomorrow, seeing all my cousins and eating way too much of Nana's stuffing. But I also want to be in Colorado, meeting my nephew and spending time with Drew's parents and Michelle and her family. And I want to be in Ohio, with the rest of Drew's family and Matt and Karen and our godsons. And, truth be told, I want to be in Durham, spending a few days at our home without having to worry about work, cuddling with Stanley and making dinner for our friends and students who are staying behind this weekend.

I've lamented before about how it's hard growing up and having work and other responsibilities keep you from the things you want to do and the people you want to see. It's been hard for me, a person raised with so much family so close to me, to live this far away. But, I think tonight, I'm realizing that it's hard growing up because, as you grow, so does your capacity to love. And the more you love, the more there is to miss.

So to all my family and dear friends, I wish a very Happy Thanksgiving. For those I will not see this holiday, I miss you terribly, but I'm thankful that I have you to miss.

Confused Thankfulness [#2]

Praying tonight for those in the midst of Hurricane Sandy. [See this earlier blog post for some other thoughts about the hurricane]. I have a lot of family up North but fortunately they don't seem to be in any serious danger right now. I know this can change quickly, but for now I'm thankful. 

Thankful is something I've been feeling more often in the last week. My job situation is still not ideal, but Monday-Wednesday some opportunities presented themselves and things are looking up. Thursday night I had a great time with Drew & Duke Lutherans [more on that later]. 

Friday night I babysat a couple adorable little girls so a Div. student couple could get a night out. I was happy to help them, but in the end I know I got the best end of that deal. Reading on the couch with a two and four year old curled up on either side, and then listening to them sing each other nursery rhymes when I [unsuccessfully] tried to get them to go to sleep. Yep, I was definitely thankful for that.

 Saturday we did some much needed cleaning before going to a friend's house for a Halloween party. Great food, got to catch up with friends, and OSU won. All things to be thankful for.

Sunday I slept in [reallllly late] which I haven't been able to do in a long time. Simple thing to be thankful for, but thankful nonetheless.

But, to return to a previous thought, it's Duke Lutherans that have been a big reason for this thankfulness. Thursday night we had a pumpkin carving party outside at St. Paul's new fire pit. It was a beautiful 70+ degree day, and I got to build the fire, so I was a happy girl. But those silly things aside, it's our students that bring me to this place of appreciation. It's such a joy to work with these people in this exciting and tumultuous time of their lives. And it's a joy to see Drew as he steps further into his call to work with them. The last three months have changed some of our plans, and for brief moments made us question what we were getting ourselves into with this whole "work in the church" thing. But those doubts can't last long when we're with these kids. They're the reason we're doing this. They're the call.

Drew summed it up nicely in his facebook status that night:

At some point during Sacred Space, the weekly small group event for Duke Lutherans, for the first time in a while I simply stopped and looked at our group. A few fully funded graduate students carving pumpkins along with a couple of NCAA Division 1 scholarship athletes. The leader of Antic Shakespeare enjoying the fire with the social chair of a sorority and museum curator to be. A PreMed Religion Major and an undeclared musician leading the charge for comedic relief and the first sloth/gourd fusion known to humankind. Others of us - fraternity brothers & coxswains, theologians & biologists, and many more unnamed - joined us in spirit. And I thought to myself, quite literally, "My God, what a wonderfully eccentric group," quickly followed by "My God, Thank you for this group, each of these people, this church which you entrust to me, with which you bless me, in which you show me your love and purpose for the world." Each of them - each of you - bless me, bring me life and light through Jesus, who binds us all together in our eccentricity.

[Now someone just has to tell us how we're supposed to say goodbye to these guys in May...]