By the way

I got a new job.

For the last couple weeks I have been thinking to myself, there was something I was going to post about...I need to write a blog...what was I going to blog about? Just now, I remembered. I was going to blog about my new job.

I'll be working at a place called Worldwide Glass Resources. My title will be Associate Chromatography Product Manager. My actual day-to-day job is somewhat amorphous, but I've been telling people that it's marketing and sales. In the first year I'm going to learn all about glass, glass manufacturing, sales, marketing, and customer relations. Plus I'll get to do lots of writing, including revamping the web content and the product catalog. I am very excited about all these things.

I know a great number of you are thinking, "But Elena? What about California? And Linguistics? And life overseas?" Those are all very valid questions. And the only answer I can think to give you is that the good Lord does things in the fullness of time. And right now, it seems, my time will be full of Chromatography products.

We're thinking a lot right now about Michael going back to school, which my single self had not fully taken into account and my transitioning-into-one-flesh-with-a-complete-other-person self was trying to compromise priorities with. We still want California--and I definitely still want Linguistics--and an eventual life overseas, but I am realizing that even a month ago, I wasn't thinking "what's best for my family?" only, "what would I want to do with my life?" And that's not really a good place to be.

So I'm glad God does things in his fullness of time. Because he's giving me some time to learn some good things.

Amongst other things, perhaps not as blog-worthy, I have been learning to speak up for myself, to be realistically ambitious, to take risks, and to let people believe in me. These are also good lessons.

Today was my last day at the diner. I hugged the girls goodbye and waved to all the cooks and clocked out for the last time. I came home feeling a certain lightness I haven't felt in a long time. Yeah, God does things in the fullness of time.

This Poet does a little Painting

Yesterday marked the end of my Painting with Words poetry class. I was sad to see them disperse, but encourage by all the parents who thanked me so enthusiastically for investing into their children. One little girl gave me a jar of strawberry preserves from their garden and I was delighted to receive it. I watched her each week as she carefully arranged inside her folder all the post-it note reviews I would write for her poems. She took the writing process seriously, thought long and hard about her words and assembled them neatly on paper. She was truly a delight and I will remember her sweetness with each bite of strawberry preserves. (Okay, so I'm gushing a little...)

Lacking my students poems to share, I've decided to post a couple of my own that I wrote during the class.

"Color"
There's something about orange that borders on obnoxious
But that I find attractive all the same.
That bright, almost glaring quality that boldly forces itself
Into one's line of sight.
Maybe I admire orange
For being so willing to declare its presence,
While I timidly wait on the outskirts of conversation.


"Movement"
I often find myself plunging into things
Before I know exactly what I'm getting into.
It's as if all I know to do is charge
and catapult
and stampede.
I had once hoped that I, with age,
would learn grace;
That I could learn to glide, maybe,
or meander
or pad
or step.
But, no, it seems that age has not tempered me
Only flung me into the next misadventure.
But I suppose I am not made for those gentle journeys,
Too antsy and fidgety for anything less than the roller coaster ride I'm on.

An Update on My Painting Poets

The first class was a disaster. I didn't prepare interactive enough activities, I didn't set up "poetry" and what it means in an accessible way, and the age gap between my kids (ranging from an 8-year-old girl through to a 14-year-old boy) was too great for the kids to form a connection.

But things since then have gotten much better. Kids love words, and they know how to stretch them and manipulate them and couple them. They even know how to keep from using them. As we've gone through the weeks, the kids have written for me amazing poems about the feeling colors produce, the movement of animals, the sounds of cars and crowded classrooms. I wish I still had them so I could recite them to you, but I've given them back to their authors. What I find most fascinating is how each child has his or her own style. One girl, age 9, is extremely lyrical, long lines draw out shy feelings wrapped in detailed descriptions. Another girl is punchy, with vivid imagery couplets that take you by surprise. The boys show meticulousness, choosing their words carefully in short lines that leave the reader wanting to solve the mystery of their descriptions. One boy, paints vignettes with his words, little word-pictures you see clearly as they flash through your mind in his economy of language.

Kenneth Koch was right. Kids are perfectly able to write mature modern poetry. I am glad I believed him enough to take on seven kids, between the ages of eight and fourteen, even though my experience was severely lacking and my self-esteem through the basement floor.

I'd do it all over again. Heck, I just might.

The Night the Bat Reigned

Some of you may have seen from our Facebook statuses that we had a bit of an incident this week. For the sake of recording personal histories...

I (Elena) came home from working at the diner at about 3pm on Tuesday. I came in, glad to be home, took off my work shirt, went to the bathroom, left my buckle undone as I made my way back to the bedroom to change into civilian clothes. BUT as I came into the kitchen from the bathroom a BAT came swooping through and hung itself by its claws on the curtain rail. I, naturally started screaming, and ran from to the bedroom (doing up my pants--why I was worried about my the bat in pants, I don't know. I wasn't logical at that point). I called Michael--aware that he was completely powerless to help me from his office in Northfield--but not knowing what else to do. He told me to find the phone book and call Animal Control, and I searched for the phone book only to encounter the bat again, flying circles through all the rooms. Since I was screaming again, we decided to call my uncle instead. That conversation went like this:

Ring Ring
Tio: Alo?
Me: Hola, Tio.
Tio: Hey you. What's going on, what's new?
Me: (trying to keep calm) Uh...well, I have a problem I was hoping you could help me with.
Tio: Yeah, what's up?
Me: There's a bat in my house and I need help getting out.
Tio: Well, can't you get it?
Me: (trying not to cry) Uh...well, I'm scared and it's gross.
Tio: Well...okay, we're coming. We're coming.

Then I realized that I had locked the door and that unless I made my way out, they we're going to be able to come in. So while the bat is circling, I grab the standing mirror (it's plastic and not attached to the wall like it's supposed to be) and use it like a shield to get outside.

I make it to the door, I unlock it, I go outside and breathe deeply for the first time. Feeling a little bit more in control of the situation, I decide to go back inside and look for the broom. I'm tip-toeing like a teenager trying to sneak out the house through my own house, hoping to see the bat but not rouse the bat. I get the broom and go back outside without sighting the bat.

My uncle, my aunt, and my cousin show up and bang on all the furniture and shake all the curtains, but no bat ever appears. He convinces me that the bat must have flown out while I was getting the broom. I give up and let them go, but still feel paranoid, so I change into some shorts, gather up my laptop and some books and go to dunkin donuts for a while. I go back to my uncle's house and hang out with my cousin until Michael gets off work.

When Michael gets home, he searches the house to no avail. We leave to do some shopping and return fairly late. We go to bed exhausted, turn of the light, and start talking through some loose ends from the day. Suddenly,

scratch scratch scratch

Michael and I stop short, look at each other. I duck under the covers, he puts his glasses back on and turns on the light. No bat. I dash outside in my night clothes (little shorts and a tank top) and Michael gets the flashlight and broom. He searches behind the dresser but can't find anything. We go back to sleep, this time Michael on the dresser side and with the light on. "The bat won't come out if the light is on," we say.

At about 3:00am, I wake up and roll over. Michael wakes up, too. The light keeps us from getting into deep sleep. At the exact moment that Michael looks at me...

scratch scratch scratch

I look over at the dresser and see the bat crawling out from behind the mirror. I scream. Michael can't see anything and his glasses are next to the bat. I dash outside and Michael runs to put his contacts in. He comes back to the room--no bat.

He starts poking around with the broom again and suddenly the bat comes flying out of nowhere. Now, Michael gets entrenched in a battle that lasts forty minutes to catch the bat inside a box and free it to the outside world.

When that moment came, Michael was so pumped full of adrenaline and so covered in his own sweat that going back to sleep--to wake up an hour later for work--was quite impossible. Needless to say Wednesday was not one of our most productive days.

But that's the story of the Night the Bat Reigned.

Great Music Intended to be Enjoyed by the Masses

Here's some songs that I love right now:

This Too Shall Pass by OK Go

Kids by MGMT

Uprising by Muse

Surely I have a delightful inheritance

Last Monday as I was driving from the Studio to the house, I got stopped behind 3 school buses dropping kids off from school. Phoenix's new song Lisztomania was playing on the radio as the school buses took me down memory lane to a time when I was 10.

Our church van took Daniel and I to church many Sundays even though Mom and Dad also went to church. I think it was that my brother and I liked riding to church with our friends. One Sunday morning before heading out the door to Sunday School, our parents sat us down to tell us that we were going to begin attending a different church. Just as they were telling us the big news, the church van started honking and we had to tell the driver that we wouldn't be riding the van anymore.

This was a big deal to Daniel and I because we had gone to that church since we were born. All of our friends went to that church. That's where we learned about Creation and Jesus and the Cross and Resurrection. That church was like a home to us.

Then, just as sudden as that memory had flashed in my mind, I thought of this:

When I was 9, Granddaddy died.
When I was 10, we changed churches.
When I was 12, we moved to Midland.
When I was 13, my parents divorced.
When I was 16, Meme died.

These are the great hurts and disappointments in my life. God then showed me that these were my foundation, my security and my salvation:
My grandparents
My home church
My hometown
My parents' marriage

As suddenly as everything had been revealed to me before, God then revealed to me that it was He who took these away from me. It was He who ordained them to happen. It was He who orchestrated my life...

But before I could be resentful to God for doing all that to me, He revealed to me that it was He who orchestrated my life so that He alone would be
my glorious
and sovereign
and joyful
foundation,
security,
and salvation.

And that made me so happy. I think I'm not resentful anymore of my grandparents and parents' marriage and hometown and home church being stripped away from me. On the contrary, my heart is filled to the brim and overflowing with joy over the fact that God would love me so much that He would give me these disappointments so that in the end He would be my sole foundation, security, and salvation.

When I was 17, I was reconciled to God

Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
You have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.
Psalm 16:5-6

Misery Swallowed Up in Mercy

After reading this on a friend's blog I had to post it here.

“Every good thing we could think or desire is to be found in this same Jesus Christ alone. For he was sold, to buy us back; captive, to deliver us; condemned, to absolve us. He was made a curse for our blessing, sin offering for our righteousness; marred that we may be made fair.

He died for our life; so that by him fury is made gentle, wrath appeased, darkness turned into light, fear reassured, despisal despised, debt canceled, labor lightened, sadness made merry, misfortune made fortunate, difficulty easy, disorder ordered, division united, ignominy ennobled, rebellion subjected, intimidation intimidated, ambush uncovered, assaults assailed, force forced back, combat combated, war warred against, vengeance avenged, torment tormented, damnation damned, the abyss sunk into the abyss, hell transfixed, death dead, mortality made immortal.

In short, mercy has swallowed up all misery, and goodness all misfortune.”

—John Calvin, preface for Pierre Robert Olivétan’s 1534 French translation of the New Testament