Everyday Life

Categories Everyday Life

The Jump

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When the time came for the actual jump, I didn’t have opportunity to be terrified.

I had to get on my knees, and let my butt scootch between my knees so the instructor would have enough room to get on top of me and get himself (and the chute) attached.

Preparing to jump

I felt tugs and clicks as one attachment point after the other connected.

Now my butt needed to come up a bit, the instructor couldn’t get close enough to tether us together.

I tried to obey, lifting my bottom infinitesmely–but I guess it was enough. We were connected.

Bent elbow preparing to jump

Now I needed to swing my right leg out onto the ledge.

In ground practice, I’d been the only one of the girls who’d made it all the way to the ledge on the first try. Everyone else’s legs were too short to easily traverse the distance.

In the air, it was completely different. I swung my leg out and the air caught it, pulling it beyond the ledge.

I used all my strength to lift my foot above the ledge and move it forward to a secure resting point.

Grabbing my straps

The tap came to my left shoulder.

It was time for me to grab a strut and then dip down onto my left elbow so the instructor could get himself out through the doorframe.

He tapped my shoulder again, reminding me to let go of the strut.

I was falling. He was falling right behind me. Except not behind me. With me.

I had no fear.

The jump

No fear at all.

Categories Everyday Life

Missed Opportunities, or I’ve Always Wanted to Fly

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Once we’d geared up, we had a short wait. Then, it was time to get in the plane for our trip up.

On our way to the plane

Joanna would jump second, we discovered as her instructor directed her towards the back-right corner of the little plane. Her instructor entered after her and took his seat on the floor facing her, back to the the pilot’s chair.

Then my instructor sat with his back against a box, bent knees parallel with the other instructor’s, but coming from the opposite direction. The two men draped their arms over their touching knees, settling in for what was for them a comfortable routine.

My post was alongside the pilot, back against the front of the plane, with instruments and our pilot’s lap to my right, the airplane’s door to my left, and my instructors knees directly in front of my own.

There weren’t many non-awkward places to look, not a lot to observe from my floor-bound vantage point. So I focused on my friend in the opposite corner, merely five feet away.

Joanna must have felt a bit awkward too, sitting face to face with the man she’d soon be strapped to. Or perhaps she was enjoying a Zen moment prior to a terrifying jump–at any rate, she closed her eyes.

On our way to the plane

My instructor saw her and turned back to me, gesturing with his head. Did I see her there? I grinned and nodded. Yes, I saw.

Now he gestured at his co-instructor, tapped on the pilot’s arm, and enlisted the help of the other men. “It’s her birthday!” He shouted, his voice a nearly indiscernible sound above the engine.

“You’ve got to help me,” he told the young pilot–and then launched into an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

Could Joanna hear us singing over the usual noise? Yes, she was blushing now as my instructor sang loudly: “Happy birthday, dear whatever-your-name-is” and we all sang together: “Happy Birthday to You!”

We sunk back into our silence. The flight seemed much longer than I’d expected. But we were finally reaching altitude.

The pilot’s hand touched my shoulder and I thought for sure I’d done the forbidden–messed with his controls somehow. I scrunched further into the corner–but when I looked up, I saw that he was looking at me.

“Wanna steer?” he mouthed, gesturing back and forth with his hands in a steering motion.

I looked at him askance. “Are you serious?”

“Sure, It’s nothin’.” He jogged the yoke towards me and we turned accordingly.

I was facing backwards on the floor. I couldn’t see. There was no way I could steer the aircraft. Even if it was “nothin’.” I was more than a little terrified. What was going on here?

I shook my head no and turned aside. Why I was I afraid to take his daring offer? I’d always wanted to fly.

Later, I learned that he was in his late 20s and that he listened to Moody Bible Radio.

He could have loved Jesus. He could have been flirting.

I could have just missed an opportunity.

I’ve always wanted to fly.

Categories Everyday Life, Faith

On Choosing a Bible (Part 1)

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A dozen and a quarter years ago, I was beginning my teen years and was in need of a good, hefty Bible to make me feel like a good, proper Christian.

An NIV Life Application Bible fit the bill–weighing in at approximately fifty billion pounds, it was my constant companion and sure proof of my spirituality.

Then, in my senior year of high school, I grew disillusioned with what I felt was the childish tone of the NIV. It just so happened that the Bible program I was in had me purchasing a number of different Bibles, so I found myself with a NASB Life Application Study Bible, a (second) NIV Life Application Study Bible, and a NKJV Thompson Chain Reference Study Bible.

The NKJV became my companion, probably for the sake of the non-applicable study notes.

Imagine, a study Bible that actually was about studying the Bible? (Do I sense some bitterness towards the–count them–three identical, expensive, and utterly useless Life Application Study Bibles?)

When I needed a smaller Bible for my trip to Sweden less than a year later, I chose a leather-bound NKJV.

A bit of a word-study nerd, I’d come to love the formal equivalence and old-fashioned syntax of the New King James. I was an NKJV girl, I proudly declared.

We had our little family squabbles over translations.

Half of us were squarely in the formal equivalence camp, favoring the translations that anal-retentive geeks everywhere adore. The other half didn’t really enter into the Bible translation conversation.

NASB vs. NKJV

That was our big argument.

Abridged or unabridged.

Until Dad (up to that point a true NASB lover) turned tails and suddenly started using the TNIV.

We were all aghast.

Not only was he going for a dynamic equivalence instead of a formal equivalence, he was choosing the infamous gender-neutral Bible.

Why would he do such a thing?

I contemplated getting another Bible off and on for about a year.

My Bible was getting a bit bedraggled. It had been dropped in the bathtub several times, dropped in the toilet once (was that TMI?), and squished into my shoulder bag more times than could be counted.

I started reading up on textual criticism and the pros and cons of the NU text versus the Majority Text. I became sold on the NU Text even as I appreciated how the additions made in the Majority text have (by the grace of God) little impact on things of doctrinal importance.

I started reading Reformed bloggers and started attending a solidly NASB church.

But spending money on a new Bible when I already had five or ten at home seemed wasteful–especially if I was purchasing a translation I already owned.

I held off. No new Bible for this girl.

That is, no new Bible until the second to last day of July, when I sat at my parent’s kitchen table, puzzling over the “so then” in James 1:19–

“So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath;” (NKJV)

The “so then” clearly indicated that this command was related back to what the author (James) had just said. But I couldn’t find any reasonable connection between the previous statement and the current command.

I read it over and over and over again.

I set down my Bible and paced a bit, took a bathroom break, got some cereal. I picked the Bible up again and re-read some more.

I got frustrated. James was just the most confusing book. I’d been struggling all week to figure out its theme.

My dad’s statement that James is like a New Testament Proverbs helped me quite a bit in interpreting the book altogether–but with that “so then” in there, there had to be a connection. Dad’s “Proverbs” trick couldn’t get me out of this one.

That’s when I saw the footnote: “NU Text reads Know This.”

There wasn’t a connection. There wasn’t supposed to be a connection. The “so then” doesn’t exist. That was a Majority-text addition not included in the best (NU-text) manuscripts.

I was getting a new Bible.

Lest you be completely confused by this post, have no fear. I intend this to be a lead in to several articles about choosing a Bible. My intent is to explain some of the jargon (and jokes) I’ve used in this article, hopefully in a way that will help you to understand some of the thought process that goes into wisely selecting a Bible translation (and a study Bible).

Categories Everyday Life

Snapshot: Geared up

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I knew I was in for some fun when we got to the part of the release form that stated something to the effect of “I certify that, apart from the conditions listed below, I am free from any medical condition…”

Geared up for skydiving

My list of medical conditions isn’t that long–but every condition means skydiving is not an ideal sport for me. I listed the group: hypotension, vertigo, exercise-induced bronchospasm.

I’d been drinking Powerade (with plenty of sodium to manage the hypotension). I had my meclizine along (to manage the vertigo). I had my inhaler (to manage the bronchospasm.) The only one I was really worried about was the hypotension. It’d really stink to black out while in free-fall, thus missing the experience I’d paid so much to have.

My friends started to worry for me. “Will they still let you skydive?” they wondered.

I told them there was no doubt. We’d all be jumping tandem–which meant the instructor tied to our backs would be doing the work. If I were to have a medical event mid-jump, the only problem would be that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my jump.

I really wanted to enjoy my jump.

Sure enough, the instructor looked over my list, asked if I used an inhaler, and never said another word.

I loaded the Powerade, took my Meclizine, and entirely forgot about the inhaler (but really, jumping from an airplane is not exactly aerobic exercise!)

Then, when my time came, I geared up for the jump!

Joanna and I geared up to go

Categories Everyday Life

I’m Alive

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I realized, on my way home from work, what my silence (especially on this Nightstand day!) might seem like to my long-time readers.

Last you knew, I was jumping out of an airplane. Then I don’t participate in the carnival I’ve faithfully participated in for almost two years.

Clearly, I died.

Except that I didn’t.

I went, I jumped, I lived. (I loved it!)

State surveyors showed up in one of my “away” facilities yesterday–and I needed to be up bright and early to meet them this morning.

Ten hour workdays are fun when you’ve got an hour and a half travel time on either end.

Even more fun when you’ve got to try to be there by 7 am.

Long day today, long day tomorrow.

I’ll share jump stories and photos when the madness stops.

For now, I’m just thankful to be alive–and reminding myself of James 1:2-5

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.”

Categories Family & Friends

Snapshot: Little Miss

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Anna and I were in Lincoln when Little Miss Menter was born–but we weren’t going to try visiting until Dan and Debbie blew the all-clear.

Little Miss with Anna

At the same time, both of us had to work in the morning–so neither of us could stick around town waiting for the whistle that might or might not come that evening.

Little Miss

Which meant we were halfway home when the text came to tell us that visitors were welcome–too late to turn around.

Little Miss sleeping on Daddy

So we worked our weeks and made the trip back down this Saturday–ready to meet our newborn niece.

The Little Miss was definitely a Menter baby, tall and skinny. What differentiated her from the many Menter babies who have come before her was the hair.

Daddy kisses Little Miss

All the rest of us were bald.

Thanks, Debbie, for introducing baby hair into the Menter gene stream!

Daddy and Mommy with Little Miss

Categories Everyday Life

Bat Dreams

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The music was on, the bedroom was ready to accept coats. Everything was in order, but only one coworker had shown up. I was starting to get nervous–this was, after all, a work Christmas party.

My sister threw open the door and flashed on the lights. I woke with a start.

Oh no–I was late for work. I’d overslept.

I glanced at the clock.

4 am.

No I hadn’t overslept.

“How long have you been awake?” Anna asked.

I was absolutely bewildered. I hadn’t been awake. I’d been dreaming of Christmas parties.

“Can you help me catch a bat?”

The story spilled out. Apparently, Anna had been awakened some time earlier by a whirring sound in her bedroom. I guess she’d started yelling when she realized it was a bat–which is why she’d assumed I’d be awake.

At any rate, I threw on some clothing (extra covering necessary lest said bat be rabid and attempting to bite) and went to catch a bat.

By then, the bat had ceased flying about–and we had a difficult time finding it.

I’d searched the entirety of Anna’s bedroom floor before Anna found it curled up in the track on which the windows slid. It was a motionless ball smaller than a mouse.

Perhaps it was dead, I thought. Which was rather a frightening proposition. If so, we’d have to save it and take it in for rabies testing.

My hands clad in oven mitts, I draped a towel over the semi-prone figure. A whirr of movement I could barely feel beneath the towel and my oven mitts indicated that the bat was still alive.

Now to extract the creature for its cubby.

This was the hard part. I couldn’t feel much through the clumsy oven mitts–and even the towel by itself was difficult to maneuver. The bat was snuggled in between two little runners. How could I get it out without squeezing it to death?

I sent Anna out for a ruler. When she returned, I slid the thin metal ruler under the bat and gently lifted it up, enfolding the ruler and all into my towel.

Outside, some distance from the house, I laid down my package and unwrapped it, standing ready for the animal to fly away.

A few moments and it took off. I dropped my used towels and oven mitts into the washing machine, checked my sister for bite marks (there were none) and made my way back into the world of dreams.

Categories Work

Unknown Unknowns

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“…as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns — the ones we don’t know we don’t know.”
~Donald Rumsfeld

Apparently people deride Donald Rumsfeld for his categorization of the world into known knowns, known unknowns, and unknown unknowns.

I don’t know what they’re smoking.

I feel that those classifications are perfectly apt–and they’re precisely the reason why I’m antsy right now.

I have known knowns: I know certain strengths and weaknesses in my education, in my charting or careplanning ability. I know how I’ve assessed and intervened in various situations.

Then I have known unknowns: I know that certain routes of communication are weaker than others, leaving opportunity for small errors. I know that there are people I have had less contact with than others. I know what people haven’t been looked at in depth for greater amounts of time.

But then there are the unknown unknowns. I have no clue about these.

There are things that I could be missing because I just don’t know–and I could not even know that I don’t know them.

Paul says that the one who does good need not fear the authorities (Romans 13:3); but what of the one who is doing the best she can (or thinks she is doing the best she can) but who simply cannot know everything–or even the finite brand of everything state surveyors might look at?

The tension of this week is whether I can trust God with not only the known knowns and the known unknowns but with the unknown unknowns.

Can I trust Him to provide despite my weakness? Can I trust Him to help me provide the best care possible to my residents? Can I trust Him if I should learn something that crushes my pride as a dietitian?

I don’t know. That’s an unknown unknown.

I’m trying to learn to trust.

And I suppose that’s all I can do.

Categories Everyday Life

Snapshot: Kissing Toads

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Something was moving along my peripheral vision as I mowed the stretch beside the garage. Was it a mouse? I wondered.

I stopped mowing (easy to do with an old-fashioned mower where you don’t have to worry about stopping and starting a mower) and investigated further.

Silly me. That was no mouse. That was clearly a toad hopping along.

Toad

Why did I decide to leave my camera inside?

Oh right, because I almost lost my lens cap the last time I tried the “mow with a camera around my neck” routine.

Still, it was clearly a poor decision.

I repented my camera-leaving sin and returned, certain that the toad would be gone.

I was wrong.

I took shot after shot, struggling to focus on the toad amidst the bramble of weeds and hailed-out daffodils.

Toad

Mr. Toad mustn’t have liked my flash, because he hopped right out to where the lighting was more agreeable.

He posed happily against the garage for several shots, before coming out into the center of the patio to sunbathe a bit.

Toad

I was broken from my toad-fancying reverie by the whir of a boat on the lake.

What a sight I must have been to the boaters! Tush in the air, head to the ground, abandoned lawnmower in the yard.

But I got some good pictures of the princely toad.

Unfortunately, he isn’t likely to be in my age range.

Toad

**The life expectancy of the American toad (according to this source) is around 5-10 years. Definitely too young for me. **

Categories Everyday Life, Technology

Marriagable Age Calculator

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Do you have trouble trying to figure out what age range to enter in your e-Harmony match preferences?

Maybe you have trouble figuring out how low you can go without being a “cougar” (Rahr!)

Then again, perhaps you’re a friend of a single man and a single woman–but you’re not sure whether you can set them up because of the age difference between them.

Well, I have just the thing for you.

This handy calculator can tell you exactly what age range you (or one of your single friends) can marry within.

Just enter your age (or your friend’s age) and click submit.

Your Age:
Youngest:
Oldest:

Voila–no more guesswork, no more wondering whether your decision is appropriate. Either he (she) is within the range or he (she) isn’t.

**Please be aware that this calculator was created using the highly scientific process of… well, either I read the formula somewhere or I imagined it up myself. One of those two. Then, of course, I turned it into a javascript calculator using this handy calculator tutorial from About.com**

***You will note that this calculator does not allow you to enter an age below 18 or above 120. This is because the formula does not allow marriage below age 18 (an element that definitely suggests that the formula is an invention of my own mind rather than someone else’s)–and because one has to cut off the calculator somewhere!***

****For those interested in setting me up–I am most certainly interested. I have a nice wide range. To see it, enter “26” in the above calculator :-)****