31 July 2009

Poem Friday: Tribute to Ms. Jane


by: William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)

      O him who in the love of Nature holds
      Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
      A various language; for his gayer hours
      She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
      And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
      Into his darker musings, with a mild
      And healing sympathy, that steals away
      Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
      Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
      Over thy spirit, and sad images
      Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
      And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
      Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart;--
      Go forth, under the open sky, and list
      To Nature's teachings, while from all around--
      Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--
      Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee
      The all-beholding sun shall see no more
      In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
      Where thy pale form was laid with many tears,
      Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
      Thy image. Earth, that nourish'd thee, shall claim
      Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
      And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
      Thine individual being, shalt thou go
      To mix for ever with the elements,
      To be a brother to the insensible rock,
      And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
      Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
      Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
      Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
      Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
      Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
      With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings,
      The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good,
      Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
      All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
      Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun,--the vales
      Stretching in pensive quietness between;
      The venerable woods; rivers that move
      In majesty, and the complaining brooks
      That make the meadows green; and, pour'd round all,
      Old Ocean's grey and melancholy waste,--
      Are but the solemn decorations all
      Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
      The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
      Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
      Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
      The globe are but a handful to the tribes
      That slumber in its bosom.--Take the wings
      Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
      Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
      Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound
      Save his own dashings--yet the dead are there:
      And millions in those solitudes, since first
      The flight of years began, have laid them down
      In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.
      So shalt thou rest: and what if thou withdraw
      In silence from the living, and no friend
      Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
      Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
      When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
      Plod on, and each one as before will chase
      His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave
      Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
      And make their bed with thee. As the long train
      Of ages glides away, the sons of men,
      The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
      In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
      The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--
      Shall one by one be gathered to thy side
      By those who in their turn shall follow them.
      So live, that when thy summons comes to join
      The innumerable caravan which moves
      To that mysterious realm where each shall take
      His chamber in the silent halls of death,
      Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
      Scourged by his dungeon; but, sustain'd and soothed
      By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
      Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
      About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
The recited words of someone ready for the most pleasant...and final dreams of life.

To the eternal hope of peace...

30 July 2009

The Journey to McKendree

I had to give a speech of sorts at Fellowship Breakfast this morning. Nothing like being alert and talkative at 7:30 am. I thought I would share it with y'all. Why not? It outlines this thing we ministry folks call "call." Not a huge fan of talking about myself. Really. But for some reason, I'm asked to do it often. (Some details are, well, exaggerated to keep the attention of older folks.)

I’ve been Methodist my whole life. The meaning of that has changed for me throughout my 25 years of being on this earth. It’s meant what you do on Sunday and where my friends are and what made me different (I went to grade school with a bunch of Baptists who didn’t know how to handle me having a female as a pastor and thinking a sprinkling could pass for a baptism). Then my time with the church meant struggle and affirmation. During my teen years, I spent more time with my church youth group than anybody I went to school with. I was the only “country” kid at my church; the rest of the teenagers were “city” kids. Around the age of 16 I went to on a fall retreat with about 250 other Methodist teenagers to Rock Eagle retreat center. We were packing up to head back to Athens at the end of the weekend, and one of our chaperones stopped the group and asked us to sit back down. After stammering on his own words for five minutes, he finally looked at us and said something like, “You don’t have to wait. You don’t have to be older. God can call you to ministry at any age. Don’t deny it. Don’t hide it. Don’t be scared. If and when the call comes, own it.” That was a defining moment in my life. It clicked. The pieces came together. This deep yearning that had been twisting my heart for…well, I don’t remember how long. But I owned it. I knew that God had called me to serve, to be in ministry with the church and its people.

Well, I sorta owned it. I kept it quiet for a few months. Being a 16 year old female and knowing I was (and am) called to be a minister can cause a great deal of anxiety. I started with my parents, bless their hearts. My mom’s response to this news, “Really? Really! Okay. Fine.” I thought, “That went well.” Then I moved on to my father. His response to the big reveal, “Nope. You’re not going to make enough money. How are you going to support yourself?” After many hours of debate, my dad was not able to wrap his mind around the idea of his daughter being a minister. This became a point of contention until I went to college. And as for my brother, he just wants me to be done with school and get a full time job. He’s been saying this to me for years. Aren’t siblings sweet?

My senior year of high school was…hard. Telling my Baptist friends that I, a female, wanted to be a minister in the church did not receive responses of joy. There were many conversations that ended with, “Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” And disagree we did. I started the application process to colleges, looking specifically at small liberal arts schools with good religion departments. After much debate and financial aid discussions, I made the decision to attend LaGrange College in LaGrange, GA. Because my father was still having a hard time with the whole idea of church work and being a minister, I assured him I was going to be a psychology major. I didn’t take a single psychology course while at LaGrange. Instead I dove head first into the world of religion and sociology. To say I loved my time at LaGrange College would be an understatement. I met eight women along the way who were part of a bible study I attended. This bible study met all four years on Mondays at nine pm. To this day we still email and call each other at least once a week. Some married, some still single, some teachers, one social worker, some still students like myself. We are best friends, and I have LaGrange College to thank for these women of strong faith for being in my life.

As far as classes and activities, LaGrange’s motto is to challenge the mind and inspire the soul. I experienced both. My senior year I was president of the Honor Council that handled academic cases of lying, cheating, and stealing. I was chair of Wesley Fellowship and various others groups. And I was afforded opportunities to travel around the world to experience and celebrate how other cultures do church and live into their faithfulness and discipleship. Some of the places included Costa Rica, Bolivia, Mexico, and even Spain. By course work brought me the most joy, a mixture of ethics and theology and biblical studies and then the practical stuff. My official major was Church Leadership. So many of my classes were concerned with the ministries of the church—working with youth, planning worship, preaching, writing curriculum, and even pushing my professors to think more constructively about all ages present in the local church. My summers during college were spent exploring the vast ministries of the church. I was a camp counselor in the north Georgia mountains. I was a youth ministry intern. I was an interim youth pastor and supply preacher for a small country church. Those summers allowed me to confront the complexities of church work. Mostly, I found affirmation. I once heard a pastor say, “I fell in love. It is a love affair with the church.” I did just that, I found my place working and serving the various peoples that call church a home.

Some where in the midst of my time at LaGrange, my father got it. He saw it. He watched me live into my call, and he has become one of my biggest supporters. I remember the first time I heard him say to someone, “See my daughter (points at me). She’s going to be an ordained minister.” Still brings tears to my eyes. Affirmation. I still get excited when I hear my dad tell people I’m going to be a minister. Or that I am a minister.

When I graduated from LaGrange I confronted many realities. Number one: I was the first to graduate from college in my immediate and most of my extended family. It was a new chapter for the Tolbert family. It was a big accomplishment. (And I am most definitely the first to go to graduate school.) Number two: I needed a break from school, from classes, from reading, and from tests. Number three: I wanted to work in campus ministry because I was just not ready to fully step into adulthood. I graduated in May of 2006 and moved to Chapel Hill, NC at the beginning of July. I became the full time ministry intern for the Wesley Foundation at Chapel Hill. What a marvelous year. Campus ministry may not sound glamorous. Ministering to a bunch of teenagers entering adulthood as they are trying to make major life decisions can be, well, challenging. It was lovely to be doing the work of ministry full time. It was not easy. The hours were long. But once again, it was affirming. I realized I’m an okay teacher, preacher, and counselor. Really, that year in NC gave me hope. Though I was only a few years older than most of the students I ministered to, I quickly realized they are the folks that are going to make this a better world. Not only hope, but they inspired me to listen to more closely to the voice of young people. They have unique voices that are full of love, care, and compassion. No matter what the news reports or common conceptions, I witnessed greatness in the words and deeds of these young adults.

The whole time I was being the campus ministry intern, I was also tackling the discernment process. In that year I became a certified candidate for the order of elder, one of the stops on the ordination track in the UMC. The other part of my discernment concerned where to go to seminary. Looking back, I knew Vanderbilt Divinity School was where I needed and wanted to be from the earliest stages of applying to graduate schools. I looked around at other places. Duke and Emory were high on my list. I decided to come to Vanderbilt, even though it gave me the least amount of financial aid. Like I said, I really knew it was where I needed to be. The day after I accepted my scholarship package I received a letter in the mail. It was a new financial aid package that included a full scholarship and stipend to Vanderbilt. Affirmation? I say yes. It mentioned something about a new leadership program for Methodists, but all I could think about was the possibility of getting out of graduate school debt free. I finished my internship at UNC’s Wesley Foundation and moved to Nashville on July 17, 2007. I started classes soon after.

Within the first week of that Fall semester I had a meeting about this leadership scholars program thingy that was giving me money to come to school. I realized quickly it was more prestigious than I ever imagined. I was part of the inaugural cohort , myself and 5 other students, of the Cal Turner, Jr. Leadership Scholars for Methodist students seeking ordination. I was appointed to a church to be their intern for the next three years to develop, practice, and do ministry leadership in a local congregation. My placement just happened to be West End UMC across from Vanderbilt’s campus. The first was an introductory period to this large member congregation. Last year I spent my time helping and developing a ministry of hospitality for visitors, those considering membership, and new members. This coming year my time will be focused on covenant discipleship small group and training leaders at West End. My time at Vanderbilt and West End UMC have been challenging, but to use the magic word, affirming. One requirement of my degree is to do a field education placement in a non-congregational setting. Talking with the field education director, I requested the opportunity to do chaplaincy work specifically focused on ministries with and to older adults. And guess who fit the bill? You. Making contact, swapping some emails with Carmen, coming for a visit in March, and here I am. With you.

As my time draws near here, I am looking at a full year of classes, interning at West End, and completing my requirements for commissioning in the UMC. Hopefully this time next year will have me returning to Georgia, commissioned, and starting my first appointment. Simply put, this summer has been a wonderful learning experience. And once again, my call and gifts for ministry have been affirmed, lifted up, and blessed by my time with each of you.

Blessed. Amen? Amen.

28 July 2009

Dirty Dancing

<a href="http://video.msn.com/?mkt=en-US&amp;from=sp&amp;vid=304364f2-e037-48b6-9ffe-8f67ad6539b1" target="_new" title="Channing Tatum and Charlyne Yi Cinemash ">Video: Channing Tatum and Charlyne Yi Cinemash "Dirty Dancing"</a>

How to lift me out of a bad mood? Do an incredible spoof of Dirty Dancing. That amazing.

Because nobody puts baby in a corner,


My current mood. This is going to be a fun day. Not.

ps: And it is much more Grumpy from Snow White than Grumpy for the Care Bears. There is no care in this equation. None.

26 July 2009

Just one?

Growing up I would always say, "But you can only have one best friend." I meant it. From an early age, I would only allow myself to have one best friend. And I made that clear to others. I would declare, "No, This is my best friend. You are not."

The word "best" denotes special, extraordinary, better. Most think of that in a singular form. One best friend. One.

What a fool. I'm talking about myself. Unless of course you hold the same notion. Foolish.

I went to college and the world changed. I changed. I brought along Amber. Well, not really brought along. But we were roommates for four years, yet we've known each other since sixth grade. Amber and I, attached at the hip for those first days at LaGrange, met some folks. It started on our hall, Hawkes 3. Our neighbors would be the first contacts; then quickly followed a curly haired girl down the hall. By the end of that year I was connected to Amber, the neighbors, a curly haired girl down the hall, a girl the floor below who loved turtles, another red head the floor above, and then another set of roommates who just happened to live in the next dorm over. Count it up, that makes nine.*

The next three years created a bond that has lasted. It has not been easy. We moved away. Some got married. Some didn't. Some are still in school. Some work 50 hour weeks. Different stages. Different steps. Different.

But there is a bond. I call these ladies my BFFs. And I mean it. Forever. Always. I know, I know. Sounds even more foolish to say forever than just having one best friend. But I have a feeling. It's okay; call me a fool. Even crazy.

I have some other BFFs. Good BFFs. One recently visited. I'm lucky. I might even call her my sister before my best friend. Her family is my family. My family is her family. Yep, we'll go with sister. And still there are more.

As you can see, I've been pondering this whole BFF thing for awhile. One person in particular has been on my mind. We've been friends since my birth. (Literally.) Our history is deep and wide. We fall a part from one another, but we always find the paths that lead back to the rhythms and patterns of friendship. We'll find our way back. I've got this thing called hope.

The moral of the story, don't be a fool. Have a whole gaggle of best friends. It makes life special, extraordinary, better. And tell'em if you have them. Tell'em you love them. And if you don't have them, well then, I will be praying for you.

Not just one,

*There were a few that ebbed and flowed in and out of the circle, but they did not stick around. I mean it, they made the decision to quit us. We can be a hand full but well worth it. Something you want to hold on tight to and never let go. Promise.

24 July 2009

Photo Friday: Parthenon Edition

Centennial Park
Plus Fake Parthenon
Nashville, TN
Summer 2009

The last three weeks have allowed me to enjoy the fake Parthenon of Centennial Park in downtown Nashville. FREE big band music and dance lessons-check (twice). $2 snow cones-why not (twice). Picnic-food is a must (twice). Absolutely amazing weather-we call that luck (thrice). Friends-blessed beyond believe (always).

Come visit and we will hang out in the park...

ps: You thought I meant the real Parthenon? Didn't you? Yeah, I'm not that cool. Hey, this one is to scale.

20 July 2009


My bestest buddy and I went to the Loveless Cafe last night. This is a famous restaurant in Nashville that has been featured on the Food Network and the Travel Channel. The Biscuit Lady did loose to Bobby Flay on Throwdown. I would disagree. The Loveless has the most amazing biscuits. And the jellies and jams to accompany them are to die for. I think the peach preserves would be my favorite. You know, because I am from Georgia and all.

I had fried catfish, fried okra, and cucumber and onion salad. Something light and airy for summer. The bestest went for the yellow sides plate-hashbrown casserole, creamed corn, mac & cheese...and then changed it up with some green beans.

So, so good. I need to make the Loveless a bigger priority in my life. If you want to come visit, we can make the Loveless a priority together.

got biscuits?

18 July 2009


My bestest buddy from A-town is coming to visit. Tomorrow. Meaning really soon. We've both been kinda busy the last six months. Damn school, degrees, and jobs. They interfere too often when it comes to having fun. Hopefully we will get some pool time. I've missed the sun. I've missed my buddy more.

And then, heaven help me, my kindred spirits are visiting later in the week. These are my UNC kids. God, it has been SO long. They are all grown up now. Getting real jobs and fancy degrees. Can we say Yale? Both of them. Please enjoy the pictures of our crazy friendship. I'm sure their visit will include laughs, making fun of K, and being silly. We are good at it.

Here's to having friends that drive long distances to visit me. I'm the lucky one.

17 July 2009

Photo Friday: Evidence

JM-Dawg, Marg, and BEAT
Bristol, England
May 2009

Finally. See Megs, we were together! All three of us.


12 July 2009

Soundtrack: The A Side

I was recently inspired by a former professor's editorial in the LaGrange Daily News. He called his article, "10 Great Songs: My Life on Shuffle." I have more than 10 songs. Hundreds if I thought it out (even more). If you've read more than 5 or so post on this blog then you know music is important to me. It gives me a reference point. When I don't have the words, I can find a song that does. I have no musical gifts. None. Well, other than appreciation. So, this is the A side. The ones that come to mind immediately. I will publish the B Side one day.

And just so you know, I love albums more than a singular songs. So for every song listed below, I am really recommending the whole damn album. In most cases the artist has a story to tell and that album allows you to encounter, learn, and know the big picture. And just so you know, these are not ranked. They may (kinda sorta) go in chronological order of life lessons. These songs are landmarks. Some famous, some not.

  1. Alanis Morissette: "You Learn", Jagged Little Pill (Can we say middle school? Along with my love for Mariah Carey and No Doubt. You can't go wrong with lyrics like, "I recommend walking around naked in your living room.")
  2. The Wallflowers: "One Headlight," Bringing Down the Horse (Buy the whole CD! Please! So wonderful. This was the down days of late middle school and early high school. "Three Marlenas" and "Laughing Out Loud" are winners, too. This song allowed me to hide in my room and still have a friend.)
  3. Joan Osborne: "One of Us," Relish (I've never been one from Christian music. This is my religious anthem. I did sing this magical tune for my sixth grade solo and got a superior. My voice changed after that moment. I never did another solo, so it holds a special place in my heart.)
  4. Burlap to Cashmere: "Good Man," Anybody Out There? (I lied. There is this one Christianish band I l-o-v-e. They are no longer together. This band and this song best characterize the beloved days with my youth group. These were my best friends, and I didn't even go to school with them.)
  5. Sister Hazel: "Happy," ...Somewhere More Familiar (My absolute favorite band is Sister Hazel. Each album has been the background music for the last ten years. This song, well, is perfect. It's catchy. It's fun. It's message is true. "Who's content? and who's for rent?" It all makes sense when you think of clicks and insider/outsider fears of school.)
  6. Pat Green: "Three Days," Three Days (I still play this song when I am about an hour from my parents' house. I usually only have have three days. And Mr. Green could be my favorite country artist.)
  7. Hanson: "Crazy Beautiful," Underneath (Junior year of college was the best. Other than coming into my own skin, I rediscovered Hanson. No judging. This song is best when the windows are down, volume up, and my favorite roommate and I running away from stress with frosties and french fries.)
  8. Gladys Knight and The Pips: Midnight Train to Georgia (On a hellish trip to L.A. that involved being stranded in Dallas overnight and a whole bunch of u-turns, this song was played every few hours. My group took it as an omen. We needed to get the hell out of Cali and back to the homeland. Since leaving the G-A, this song has had a special place in my heart.)
  9. Ben Folds: "Best Imitation of Myself," Ben Folds Live (Getting ready to graduate and wondering about the next chapter. I knew this song would be my graduation anthem when I first heard the line about losing my Southern accent. Then I went directly to CH, where I was learning to be me.)
  10. Indigo Girls: "Nashville," Rites of Passage (Pretty self explanatory. I played this over and over the first two months I moved. I still play this song before every big exam. The album title kinda describes the purpose and plan of being in Nashville, too. And you can't go wrong with the Indigo Girls. Right?)
  11. Coldplay: "Swallowed in the Sea," X & Y (I just love this song. "And I could write a song a hundred miles long. Well that's where I belong." It reminds me of my friends and family, especially when we are hundreds of miles apart. Though away, we are so close. And there is always the hope of being reunited.)
  12. Dixie Chicks: "Lullaby," The Long Way (If and when I get married, this will make the perfect first dance song. For now, it is what I listen to when I can't sleep. That is more often than I wish these days, but I am okay when I have this song in my life. The ladies of DC consistently provide me with the therapy I need.)
  13. Glen and Marketa: "Falling Slowly," Once Soundtrack (This is the most perfect movie soundtrack ever. Not mentioning the movie. If I could describe the emotion of love in words, I am pretty sure I would use the lyrics of this song. Dramatic, I know. The raw emotion is even evident in the honest singing. It draws you in. And Lord knows we need more love in this world. Something about the mixture of forgiveness, time, and hope makes the message of love so clear. And it is not about lasting love. Just love in all forms.)
  14. Alison Krauss: "Down to the River to Pray," O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Right now, it is all about prayer. Life is in transition, meaning I am in discernment. It brings comfort. And comfort is something I'm in short supply of at the moment.
  15. Joe Purdy: "Sad Clown," You Can Tell Georgia (I'm still trying to figure out why I love this song so much. And not just love it, but why it applies to my life. It does. I just know it will be with me the rest of my days. Enjoy. Just enjoy the incredible voice of Mr. Purdy. Oh yeah, if I had to recommend one album you must buy at this very moment, this is it. It is that good.)
So, I would love for you to share. What makes up your soundtrack? What plays in the background of your brain as you go through each day? What song or artist makes life bearable?

On repeat,

10 July 2009

Photo Friday

Memphis, TN
Thanksgiving 2007

I've had the song "Walking in Memphis" on rotation in my mind all day.

But do I really feel the way I feel?

06 July 2009

Music of the Moment: I'm a Redneck, Y'all

Or I live in the Country Music Capital of the...world. It is probably both. I mean, I am from Georgia. My (childhood) house is surrounded by chicken houses and cow pastures.

Redneck? Right? Right. Bless me and my roots.

Every radio station (because I'm old school, I still LOVE listening to the radio) in the current city in which I reside plays country music. Umm, who knew the guy from Hootie and the Blowfish sings country? Because he does. I do not lie. But I really enjoy his catchy, catchy tunes. Can't help it. And the below song is on every 5 minutes. And I'm okay with that.

And there is this other band that I love. Check them out, the Zac Brown Band! How can you go wrong with a song called Chicken Fried? I mean really. But I am in a sappy mood, so enjoy What Ever It Is. Lovely. Cute. Sweet. I do enjoy a good dose of Southern charm. Like I said, I'm from Georgia.

So here is my music of the moment. Add them to your collection.

I've got whatever it is. (But I'm still trying to figure out what it is.)

05 July 2009

Never the Same

I bought an ironing board. (Pause.) I'm waiting for the gasping to stop. Well, I am waiting for the gasping to stop from Megs. Yes, I have this thing that stands up and allows me to iron without creases. I've been putting this off for years. If (big if) and when I need to iron I do it on my bed. FYI: This doesn't work so well. Like I mentioned, creases.

Something about buying an iron board means growing up. It shouts adulthood. And it means breaking away from family traditions. We don't iron in my family. Throw it in the dryer. That is...was...always our solution. I'm creating my own traditions now. I guess that includes ironing and doing said ironing on an actual ironing board.

Life changes. We change. I change. Me buying an ironing board is evidence. Just this small purchase means life will never be the same. From now until I die (dramatic, I know), I will need an ironing board. Never the same.

I've been feeling this way often lately. The littlest things change the course, and you are set on a new path. It can be a hard reality; one that causes anxiety and even anger. I've been tapping into these emotions more than I wish lately. Maybe I didn't want the ironing board. I didn't. But, my goodness, I needed it. Those professional clothes are meant to look professional. (Only if I could afford the drycleaners.)

The littlest things. Or the biggest decisions. And life is never the same. You learn to deal. I become better at ironing. I grow up and face adulthood. It is easy to get distracted, battered, bruised, and overwhelmed. Yet, I do just that. I face it. And...I'm never the same.

It is almost comforting. Almost.

Never the same,

03 July 2009

Photo Friday

Tallapoosa, GA
May 2006
This picture is to honor all the wedding anniversaries of friends and their appendages during the summer months. Congrats! Love y'all. And many blessings of more happy days.

Love, love, love

*The wedding featured above carries a funny story. I think it had something to do with an awkward kiss, speedy reception, and the bride never speaking to us again. Right, ladies?

02 July 2009


I hear some funny things at work. Kinda like: "The Elderly Say the Darndest Things." Or "Out of the Mouths of Old People." .

I've been on call this week and most of the residents knew about it. And not just the residents, the other staff. Some would just call out, "Chaplain."* I guess they all felt comfortable with me this week. And with that comfort came the slogans, phrases, and stories that had me giggling and...in shock and awe.It is never ending. I would like to share some of my favorites

  • Random lady after breakfast: "I know this guy who always tells people he is confused. That is all he likes to talk about. He wears this shirt with the letter 'IAK' across it. Everyone asks him about it. His response, 'I Am Konfused.' Everyone's response to him, 'That's not how you spell confused.' His comeback, 'See. That's how konfused I am.' (pause) Well, it's the truth. We are all confused." Turns and walks away.
  • Random lady during Bible Study: "War is just like a rocking chair. You rock and rock and rock, but you don't get anywhere. Just like war, I tell ya."
  • Same lady moments lady as we are discussing the parables in Mark 4: "Y'all got it all wrong. I'll tell you how you learn. Shut up. That's how. The only way to learn is by listening. Hello, that's why God gave you two ears and one mouth."
  • Visiting around from table to table during an ice cream social, I turn to one my favorite residents and fluff my hair. She starts laughing at me because she knows I am talking about her new hair do (excuse me, her reset). Me to B: "It looks beautiful." B to me: "Well I gotta keep that boyfriend happy. Excuse me, boyfriends." Me to B: "Boyfriends?" B to me: "Better believe it. Three this week."
  • By now I should know never (ever) to ask how anyone is. This gets the best responses. Most of the time it sounds like a weather report. The best one thus far is from a gentleman riding with me in the elevator. "Far to middle with a slight chance of clouds." Of course that describes how you are. Of course.
And this is my adventure with the lovely folks of MKV. I do love it. Really. Truly.


* My official title is Chaplain Intern. But I often get called Chaplain, Preacher, Preacher Girl, How Old Are You?, and Hey You. I answer to all. With a lovely smile on my face.