An Odd Spring Break Adventure

It didn’t occur to me that I could have gone out of town for Spring Break until it was too late to make proper plans. So. I’ve spent the week at home.

I rested Monday.
I took an adventure on Tuesday.
I saw a friend and babysat my boy and girl yesterday. We watched “Big Hero Six.” It was very good.
Today I saw two other friends, visited Massage Envy for a massage, and got stranded in Target during a flash flood warning.
And tomorrow I will…I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll do a bit of nothing. [Update: I stayed home all day and cleaned a bit while watching a “Cold Case” marathon. I also finished a puzzle with my mom.]

It’s been a good week. Nothing overly abnormal except for Tuesday’s adventure…which was, hands down, my memorable Spring Break experience.

Those of you who know me well know that leg-shaving is not at the top of my priority list. The way I see it, there are much more important things that I could do with my time. Even reading these sentences, some of you are probably cringing at the thought of hairy legs. Non-hairy legs are the cultural norm for women; it’s what we are expected to show the world. But, truthfully, it doesn’t bother me not to have clean-shaven legs. I’ve even gotten used to the looks that I so often get—the up and down glances and looks of confusion as to why a female would not have clean-shaven legs.

But here’s the deal: it bothers me knowing that my natural legs bother some of the people whom I love.

And so, on Tuesday morning, as I sat in the pedicure chair of my local nail salon, I looked at my natural legs and wondered: Do they wax legs here? It turns out they do.

Spring Break is a time when people tend to spend a lot of money doing things they ordinarily would not do—visit Disney, go on a cruise, rent a house in the mountains or at the shore, redecorate the house, buy a new car.

“I normally wouldn’t wax my legs,” I thought. “It’s nothing I’ve ever done, and it’s likely nothing I’ll do again. What the heck. Let’s do it.” So I did.

As I lay on the table in the little waxing room, feeling the warm wax being gently placed on my skin only to be coldly and harshly ripped away a few moments later, I thought to myself, “Ouch. This sort of hurts. But it’s not too bad.” As I continue to lay on the table in the little waxing room, I further thought to myself, “This is taking just as much time—if not more time—than shaving. Yet. I’m not doing the work. I’m just laying here. Laying here is nice. Except for the frequent hair-ripping that sort of hurts. But it’s not too bad. And my legs should stay non-hairy a bit longer than a regular shave. And that’s good.”

Well over two hours after my leg-waxing adventure began, I left the nail salon with lovely painted toes and hair-free legs. I was one of only two people in the salon when I adventurously agreed to go through with the crazy procedure, but when it came time to actually begin the process, the salon had filled up and the owner was running run back and forth between customers. Right front leg, knee down. Wait at least thirty minutes while the owner did other peoples’ nails. Left front leg, knee down. Right back leg, knee down. Wait at least thirty more minutes. Go buy coffee for me and the nail salon owner. Left back leg, knee down. Then knees. Then done. Thankfully, I had work to do while I waited. And thankfully, I was in a pleasant mood for my Spring Break adventure.

Sometimes life isn’t full of grand vacations to exotic locations. Sometimes work keeps us at home. Sometimes family. Sometimes finances. Sometimes health. But one thing I’ve learned this week is this: There are adventures around us waiting to be had. It could be in rescuing the dog from a thunderstorm at 5:30 in the morning or buying food for the family’s new pet or losing the Easter eggs that you hid in your own backyard or finding a note of encouragement at the bottom of a pile of papers in your really messy office. Whatever they are, there are adventures around us waiting to be had. And who knows…maybe your adventures—like mine—will result in things positive…like clean-shaven legs.

What adventures have you had this week?

The Cacophonous Song Symphony

I did something odd during worship on Sunday morning. I asked the summer staff at Mundo Vista to each sing her song(s) of choice during the opening song set—all at the same time. Here’s how it happened:

On Saturday night, after teaching the staff about worship and love languages and singing a song at campfire, I met with Ruby Ann Jones Fulbright to plan the worship service for Sunday morning. Like two old women, we sat in the gliding rocking chairs in the camp infirmary and talked. We laughed and cried and attempted to stay on topic, but ultimately we didn’t do a very good job planning worship because wandering life-thoughts kept our attention astray.

As I mentioned in Monday’s note (“Oh Worship”), when I plan worship I tend to let “lots and lots of ideas float around [in my head] until something seems right.” Since Ruby and I didn’t land on a theme that seemed right, I went to bed in the floating stage. I knew what Ruby was going to speak about so I let the ideas float and hoped that I would wake up with a sense of clarity in the morning.

I didn’t. I woke up with a headache.

As I zombied my way through breakfast with furrowed brow, I confessed to Ruby that I wasn’t having a clear since of direction about the morning’s service. I confessed this fact again to Hanna, the summer’s worship leader, and explained how I was uncertain about what songs to lead because I didn’t know who would be familiar with what—and I didn’t think that Sunday morning was the time to be teaching new songs. I don’t know a lot of popular “contemporary” praise/worship songs and I’m not 100% sure what hymn texts people know by memory these days so I was sort of stuck. I had no peace about the opening song(s), special music, offertory music, or theme interpretation...

So I sat down on the stage in the outdoor chapel, wrote out the order of service, and prayed that God would let me know what to do about everything else. That’s when chiggers (red bugs) attacked me. But I didn’t know it until Monday.

When the worship service began, I still had no idea what music we would be doing. As Ruby led the prayer calendar and shared her prayer calendar experience from the mission field, I looked at my closed guitar case and thought, “I still don’t know what songs to lead. We’re bringing it to the wire, God. What songs should I lead?”

Then something happened. I have no idea what words sparked the idea but I know it was something that Ruby said. “Remember the symphony of prayer you led at ALT—where everyone prayed at the same time?” I thought to myself. “Why not ask everyone sing at the same time? That way, people who know praise songs can sing praise songs. People who know hymns can sing hymns. People who are filled with joy and excitement can sing songs of praise. People who are struggling and/or feeling overwhelmed can sings of prayer and mercy. The girls can scatter around the outdoor chapel if they’re worried about someone hearing them sing, but with everyone singing at the same time that shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll give everyone a chance for her own voice to be heard and it will solve the dilemma of choosing music that everyone knows.”

Holy ghost goose bumps covered my body and God’s peaceful spirit came upon me as a breeze rustled through the trees and a hawk soared overhead. Finally, things seemed “right.”

The staff looked at me like I was crazy when I told them what we’d be doing. After a moment of odd silence, one girl began singing “Ode To Joy” very loudly. No one else sang. People weren’t sure if they should sing along or if they should start their own song. I said, “You don’t have to all sing together. Sing whatever you want. Get up. Move around. Lift your voice to God.” At that moment, with that permission, with “Ode To Joy” still being sung in the background, other people began singing their own songs of prayer and praise. All at once, in that sacred space, a cacophonous symphony of voices was being raised to God. It sounded awful and beautiful and chaotic and peaceful and sad and joyful all at once.

We ended our symphony with the unison thought that “Our God Is An Awesome God,” and at the end of the service we revisited one of the songs that emerged during our symphony. The rest of the service fell into place, too, as I listened to the Spirit’s guidance and felt her surrounding me in the beauty of that sacred space that day.

That night, when Ruby Ann Jones Fulbright and I returned to our old lady rocking chairs, we were able to sit and reflect on the morning’s service and smile. We don’t always understand God and God’s timing. We know that for sure. But we understand that God is always with us, guiding us, directing us, loving us, and catching our burdens when we release them. We even understand that God is with us when do odd things...like ask a group of college-aged girls to sing in an unplanned, unfamiliar, unconventional, cacophonous symphony of praise!