A scholar?

They say I'm a scholar. (Laughs out loud.) (Composes self.) (Returns to writing.)

I'm part of a fellowship program at VDS. Our official title is Turner Leadership Scholars. Me? A scholar? It makes me chuckle. I'm not. Sure, I've been in school since I was five years old. Sure, I do okay in the classroom. My GPA was better in college. Grades matter more then. I talk a much better game than I write. I've never been a writer. I'm a talker. Not a scholar. I'm a leader. Not a scholar. I'm a minister. Not a scholar.

The people above are my friends. And according to VDS, they are scholars, too. They are...but not me. These folks have reflected and supported with me over the last two years. I get one more year with them. Well, they will be with me for the rest of my days. They are smart, creative, and thoughtful leaders. I'm lucky.* And they will be there long after graduation. They keep me on my toes. We don't always agree. By knowing these scholars I am presented with the other perspective, a new way, and the challenge to do the hard work. To continue the hard work of ministry. And continue with joy.

They pick me up. And listen. Even respond. But they think. And think. Think some more. Deep and intense thoughts about being better leaders, compassionate ministers, prophetic pastors, and people full of God's love. And me, I get to listen. Even respond. If I can get my thinking up to their level.

I call them scholars. Because they are.

BEAT

*So, I've been told using the language of "lucky" is not...right? Luck implies something...wrong. Something other. Something out of the control of God. By chance. That's what I've been told. Maybe blessed is better? Maybe. I'm guessing I will continue to use the language of "lucky." It's in the vocab.

Photo Friday

BEAT and The Mom

Athens, GA

Summer 2009

Good to be back!

BEAT

Sabbatical by Circumstances

Computer's sick. No blogging. (insert sad face) Well, not much blogging. Or viewing. (insert another sad face)

Will be back to a normal routine in about two weeks.

And yes, I do feel cut off from the world. Thanks to the creators and makers of Blackberry, I am not totally without contact.

Miss you. Miss me.
BEAT

Signs of a Child

Delightful. Precious. Even when a plant might have...maybe...got turned over.

What a good visit. Blessed. And lucky.

BEAT

The Calister

Perfection! And joy! Lots of love! Oh the love! And did I mention the joy. Amazing.

What a good day.

BEAT

Old Ladies Club

When the first of the Nine turned 25 I started the Old Ladies Club. I know, I know. We are not old. It was a joke. Kinda. So many life changes made us feel old. Well, older. The changes made me feel old. Well, older. But I had my friends. Good friends who just happen to be hitting the same age milestone. Celebration was in order. So, at every birthday I would write, call, or sing something about entry into the Old Ladies Club. Yay? Yep, yay! For being 25.

The last one of us turned 25 last week. "Welcome to the Old Ladies Club!" That's how she was greeted in her emails. It is sorta like the Pink Hat Society, the entry level or precursor to the Red Hat Society. I don't like pink. Never have, so I want us to have our own rules. Renegades. Rebels. Nonconformists. Something our own where we create the standards and expectations.

Things like...

1. No pink. Or no forcing of pink.

2. Little to no make up is required.

3. Laughter. Lots of laughter.

4. Yearly gathering. (Try your hardest to be there.)

5. Submit a Grateful List weekly. (Try your hardest to create.)

The list will continue to grow. Explicitly and implicitly. Written and on our hearts. We do most of these things without thinking. Nothing too new. And my goodness, like we need another name for our group. Like discussed, "best friends" is such a fine title.

I am a member of the Old Ladies Club. There are eight other members. Dues are cheap! Just regular increments of love, kindness, support, and understanding.

It is a fun group. Everybody knows my name.

Growing old(er) isn't that bad.

BEAT

Eyes to See

It was that dreaded time of the year when I had to go back to the eye doctor. I'm trying to decide if I'm done with contacts. Just not comfortable anymore. Maybe half time? Anywho, I did get BOGO at Pearle Vision. So, two new frames. This makes me happy. I love using glasses as a fashion statement. I am a little sad that I will no longer be using the green/black frames. They are in sad shape. Here's to retirement!

The above frames have been ordered. I love the first pair. Love. The second pair looks lovely in the purple, but I got tortoise. Black and brown to go with any outfit. You know, because it is so important for my glasses to match. What can I say? I love matching.

Here's to new eyes to see.

BEAT

Photo Friday

Cali Noel Burgess

Athens, GA

Out of Date Pictures

(insert sad face)

Solution? A VISIT! This cutie is in town as we speak seeing other family. Soon enough her lovely mommy and Miss Cali will be hanging with me. A little slice of Athens visiting me! How did I get so lucky? I love being Aunt B.

Storing up big kisses and bear hugs,

BEAT

Julie and Julia

Some get excited about action movies. Good for you. Some like comedies. Why not? Others can't wait for those Oscar nominated dramas. Me? A movie about food. I get overly excited about a movie that focuses on cooking, learning to cook, becoming a better cook, and eating that which has been cooked.

I'm going with friends to see Julie and Julia this weekend. Can't wait. I love movies that required actors to gain weight. It makes the viewing experience more real...and fair.

Let's eat,

BEAT

House Warming Gift

My parents gave me a "door security bar" as my house warming gift two years ago. Let's be honest (mom and dad stop reading and pick up a sentence or two down), I used it the first few weeks. I did. Then I got out of habit. No longer part of my nightly routine. A situation recently happened that made me feel not so safe in my own space. Don't freak out. No one broke in. There was not a murder. I had a hostile confrontation with a maintenance worker in my apartment. We'll just say he thinks it is wrong for women to be pastors, speak in church, or even work outside the home. The "conversation" included some other fine exchanges about the bible and tree huggers.

Uneasy. That has been my mood the last few days.

I reported the actions and behavior of the man. I found out later that my complaint resulted in him being terminated from his job. Once again, I'll be honest. This made me feel guilty. This economy sucks, and now I've caused another person to be a statistic. I know, I know. His own words and deeds caused his unemployment, but I can't help feeling (a little) responsible.

Still uneasy.

I will get past the thoughts and memories on replay of him in my home (my private space) talking down to me and gesturing aggressively. I will. So, I am thankful for the kick-in bar. Provides a little extra measure of safety as I...get back to normal?

Thanks mom and dad for one awesome house warming gift. If you have friends that live alone, I highly recommend it. Only $35. And it provides some peace of mind.

Uneasy, but on the mend. Promise.

BEAT

ps: This post has inspired a new label, "crazy people." I'm meeting more and more these days.