Lynnea 2.0

Recent changes in my life:

  • Lost is over.  This is a big deal.  Don’t judge me.
  • I have fewer cavities.  (Just returned from a trip to the dentist.  Swollen, paralyzed right half of my face.  Its really cute.)
  • Camp starts soon.  Well…technically already started.  I had CCC training last Sunday/Monday.  Covered in bug bites but really excited about the staff and the coming campers.  (Things that have not changed: I still refuse to follow the trail-mix eating rules)

I should go find my dog.


Harvard of the freaking Midwest

My old religion prof, Lloyd Pflueger, just recommended that if I was interested in study of Eastern religions, I should consider studying German, Russian, French, Sanskrit, Pali, Tibetan, Classical and Modern Chinese, and Japanese.  Oh and classical Latin and Greek.
Did everyone else’s high school and undergraduate coursework include the option of these languages?  I mean…I know I wasnt super on top of the ball my whole academic career (sorry…I’ve gone through like 15 major changes) but really…last time I checked, ISU (and Truman) offered like four of these.  And lets be honest here, how many languages can you master in four years?

Dear Life,
Thank you for letting me be born a citizen of the great United States where everyone told me that Spanish is the only language I’d ever need.
Love, Lynnea

I visited Europe this evening.

Every evening with Rachel Schmidt is an evening in Europe.  She is a refreshing breath of class, openness, and reality.  I have beautiful friends.

I learned tonight:

  • If you stop to pee in the woods and a jogger comes by and starts laughing at you, its probably best to just start laughing too.  And keep peeing.
  • Its okay to accidentally eat a whole burrito from Flying Burrito.  They are just that good.
  • Photos from the seventies with the rounded corners and sepia tint are more romantic.

The day started out grey and cloudy, but ended drenched in sunshine and warmth.  There is nothing like the green of springtime.

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree


Sierra Leone has released information about their new updated stance on adoption.

They currently are still not allowing adoptions, but once they reopen several new changes will be in place:

  • You must reside in SL for at least 6 months to adopt
  • One parent must be over 25
  • There must be at least a 21 year age difference between the child and one parent

This is heart breaking news for a variety of reasons.  Foremost among them for me is Elle’s ongoing battle to bring Alice to the states.  Adam (Elle’s husband) is only 23 and Alice is 3 years old.  They meet none of the current requirements.  Be praying for them.

Aside from Alice, this will have a profound impact upon the country.  While I am aware of the problems of foreign adoption and the need for Sierra Leone to promote a sense of national identity and unity, this is a not a time when they have that luxury.  Their country is poor.  Their primary source of income is a highly volatile diamond industry.  They are missing nearly an entire generation of parents.  The war left so many orphans who need to be adopted and they have effectively shut their doors to willing parents all around the world.

Please be praying for Sierra Leone.  For wise, selfless leaders.  For continued healing.  For the kids at JCC .  Keep praying “until every child has hope”.

Less like math

I want to believe in a faith that is passionate.  I do not want to be passionate about my faith.  That gives me images of people handing out tracts and going around in malls to ask shoppers if they know Jesus.  No, honestly.   Probably not.  If we knew Jesus we wouldn’t be caught up in the Western consumerism exemplified in the shopping mall.  And yes, I’m guilty of that.  I’ll admit it freely.  I don’t know Jesus.  I’m heading to be a counselor at bible camp in a month and yes, I don’t know Jesus.  I mean, I know him.  I read the Bible. I go to church. I believe all the right things. but I don’t know him.  I wouldn’t sit down with him over coffee and tell him my favourite flower or what I’m afraid of.  I wouldn’t let myself be open with him.  I wouldn’t trust him.  Because the smooth talker in the business suit scares me.  The guy who’s trying to rope me in and keep me as his “beloved”.  I’ve heard that line before and it never ends well.  Sorry, I don’t intend to be the bride of Christ if that means I’ve got to be barefoot in the kitchen.  If you know me, God, you know this.

Why is this who the church tries to tell me you are?  Now I love a good Mass or traditional Lutheran service.  I can feel your grandeur and your intimacy.  But I feel like the modern church has given me this image of you that is something I want nothing to do with.  Its like the rugged loner cowboy mixed with the serious wall street business man.  You’ve got rules and you’ve got a company and by god, this body of christ had better be damn efficient or you’ll outsource.  Its a gentleman’s club and if you’re not in, tough luck.

But is that really Christ?  Is Jesus holding a briefcase or is he holding a loaf of bread?  Signing a contract or touching a leper?  Is he sitting in front of me with a checklist, and a series of graphs and charts to see if I match his criteria or is he holding a guitar, wearing ripped jeans and thick brown beard saying every day is saturday with you.  forget about the world, forget about everything and just be with me?  my yoke is gentle and my burden is light.

I could know him.