Safe on the Other Side

It’s February 15, and I have safely traversed yet another Valentine’s Day–this year, the smoothest trip yet.

I can’t know precisely, but I think it helped that I wasn’t forced to sit through a youth group “Love Month.”

This year, I didn’t have to listen to anyone tell me to “don’t worry, you’ll get married someday.” I guess maybe it’s easier to not have to continually remind myself that just because well-intentioned believers promise me marriage doesn’t mean God has promised me marriage.

This year, I didn’t have to listen to anyone tell me that the trick to getting married is “being content in your singleness.” Apparently, they were really fast learners–they figured out how to be content in the entire six months they were single after high school.

This year, I didn’t have to listen to anyone tell me that “some people are called to be single–which means they’ll be single for the rest of their lives.” I didn’t have remind them that all of us were originally called to be single. And that singleness is a gift every single person has–until God decides to exchange the gift of singleness for marriage, should he choose to do so.

It’s amazing how much easier it is to be content with singleness when I’m not being told, explicitly or implicity, that singleness is second best.

I grew up in the church, attended youth group every week, sponsored for the youth group for several years during college, and estimate that I have heard at least 40 “Love Month” sermons or teachings. And I’m pretty sure that I am a better person for not having heard them this time around.

The creators of “love month” had good intentions. They thought they’d use Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to talk about touchy subjects. The problem is, they were too uncomfortable to talk about the really important touchy subjects–so they conjured up unimportant dream worlds to talk about instead.

“Love Month”–at least as I remember it–included one teaching that wasn’t quite on sex (often relegated to a video), one teaching on praying and preparing for your future spouse, one teaching on courting (NEVER dating), and one evening where girls and boys split up to discuss “gender-related issues.” The boys talked about lust, pornography, and masturbation. The girls talked about modesty.

The problem with the sex talk was that no one really talked about it frankly. They euphemized and trivialized and glossed over things to the point that the only take home message you could get was that apparently girls and boys were not supposed to do anything together. Or something like that. Oh, there were a few good points–“If he loves you, he won’t try taking advantage of you” being a key example.

But by and large, the really important (although somewhat awkward) points weren’t made. Nobody talked about the serious medical complications associated with STDs. Plenty of people mentioned not kissing until you were engaged, or married or whatever–because it was the fad thing in the church in those days (maybe it still is, I don’t know). But nobody shared that some STDs can be shared through kissing, without genital contact. Now that’s information that might come in handy. Nobody talked about how every time you have sex with a person, it’s like you’re having sex with every person they’ve had sex with before.

They talked about praying and preparing for your future spouse. They shared the sweet story of our pastor’s wife, who prayed eight years for her future husband before she and Jason got married. They talked about keeping your room clean and not being a slob. I don’t remember exactly what else they thought was “preparation for marriage.”

I do know that they didn’t say anything about how to live the single life. They didn’t talk about learning how to have healthy relationships with your own sex. They didn’t talk about learning to be hospitable. They didn’t talk about learning how to manage your time and money wisely. They didn’t talk about using your giftings. They didn’t talk about humbling yourself and submitting to authority. Preparation for marriage is all right and good–but since marriage isn’t a guarantee and singleness (at least for a time) is, wouldn’t it be better to prepare for singleness? (Especially since by “preparing for singleness” I mean preparing for adulthood?)

They talked about courtship and not DATING. They talked about how the guy talks to the father and they’re both serious about marriage and blah-da-de-blah. They didn’t talk about how nobody needs to be worrying about dating OR courting in high school. They didn’t encourage the students to discover their callings and giftings and passions before they started looking for a mate. They didn’t caution students to not base their life’s course on a guy or a gal.

And then they split the guys and the girls up for some frank talk about issues. Or at least so the guys could have a frank talk about issues. The guys talked about lust, pornography, and masturbation. The girls talked about not causing their brothers to sin by being immodest. Once, they were especially bold and let me talk to the girls about guarding their hearts.

What they didn’t ever discuss with the girls? Lust. Pornography. Masturbation. Yes, we heard that guys were visual–that’s why we were supposed to cover up. But we never heard that girls can lust too. We never heard that we too need to guard our eyes and our thoughts. We were never cautioned against sexually explicit novels, intimacy-laden movies, and daydreaming about guys. Nobody would countenance mentioning masturbation to the girls. After all, what if some of them didn’t know what it was and got ideas?

So we were led to believe that lust was man’s sin. Immodesty was woman’s. The girls weren’t given any tools with which to fight the lust that attacked us. Thinking that we were abnormal and unnatural, we tried to fight the battle alone–or gave up on trying to fight. If a leader couldn’t even mention the word masturbation, how could a girl gain the confidence to go to the leader for prayer and accountability?

Just thinking about it gets me riled.

Perhaps now you can understand why not having to do “love month” has made February a great deal easier for me?

Even if not, allow me to share a few quick tips for talking “relationships” with single people:

  • Don’t make promises you can’t keep–Don’t promise them marriage when God hasn’t done so.
  • Redirect their focus back to what God has made clear is their calling right now. That means encouraging them to learn to be the best student, child, roommate, friend, or employee they can be. That means encouraging them to discover their purpose and passions and to get connected within the church.
  • Be willing to speak frankly, and listen openly about the many issues they’re dealing with. Don’t give quick, pat answers. Talk about lust. Talk about the joys of marriage (honoring your spouse by not going too far, of course). Talk about the trials of marriage (once again, honoring your spouse by not going into details). Go ahead and remind them that marriage is great but it’s not the promised land. Learn for yourself, if you need to, that a spouse is not the answer to all of life’s problems.
  • Above all, work to keep the focus on God–and their relationship with God. Don’t encourage single people to “be content in their singleness” (especially not as a means to marriage)–instead encourage them to discover God’s purpose in their singleness. Keep redirecting the focus of your conversations about relationships back to God.

Thanks for bearing with my little rant–and thanks to all of you who have been such a blessing to me (single person though I am ;-) Oh–and thank you, Lord, for the privelege of being a single woman (and that I didn’t have to do another “Love Month” this year).


Hungry

Can anyone else feel the hunger, or is it just me?

I’ve battled with discontent for almost a year now–chronicling some of my struggle on-line. But this is a different discontent, a rustling ache in my belly. This is a cry from deep within proclaiming “There must be more.”

Just today, it struck me with a vengeance–gnawing away at my insides. “This isn’t what life was meant to be. There has to be something more.”

Not more talking. Not more doing. Not more meetings. Not more books. Not more blogging. Not more cleaning.

More Christ.

Surely I was not born to keep up with the laundry. I was not created to fill a seat in the service. My purpose is not to do dishes. I was not placed on this earth to teach people how to eat.

These things are all things that I do, but I cannot be satisfied with the doing of this life.

Discontent strikes me, but this time it is not a desire for more things or different circumstances. This time it is a desire for more of God. I desire that I would walk daily–no even more, moment-by-moment–in relationship with Him. I desire that He would penetrate every ounce of my existance to the point that my doing dishes would be worship. I want to be so consumed by Him that He overflows into every aspect of my life–work, church, school, friends, family, blogging, crafting, cleaning, filling my car with gas.

I want to live an “other” life. Not “my” life, consumed by my worries. An “other” life, consumed by the glory of God, glorifying Christ, being led by the Holy Spirit.

A holy discontent. A discontent with mediocrity. A discontent with living without reference to Christ. I’ve caught a discontent, I know not where–but I pray I’ll never lose this hunger.

Hunger for God.


Husbandless Housewife

Marriage is not easy. Marriage is not the answer to life’s problems. Marriage is not happily ever after. Marriage is not a fairy tale. Marriage is hard work.

I know all that.

But whenever I get discontent or frustrated with any aspect of my life, my favorite fantasy to retreat to is…marriage.

In highschool, when I was trying to figure out which of my hundreds of interests to choose as my LIFE pursuit (i.e. career)–I dreamt of the easy way out. I could just get married–then I wouldn’t have to decide.

When I was overwhelmed by the hamster wheel life of school, work, volunteering, church, family, dorm, friends, Navs–I longed for an escape. I could marry, and then (maybe) I wouldn’t have to bother with half of it (school, work, dorm at least).

When I was in the midst of depression and feeling disconnected from everyone, I thought maybe marriage would be my solution. How could I feel disconnected if I were married?

When I was blacking out ten to twenty times a day and afraid to drive lest I should black out and kill someone–I thought getting married would correct my problem. (Oh wait, I didn’t come up with that. That was the doctor. Well, I guess he didn’t say I had to get married–he said the only cure for my hypovolemia was pregnancy. But since I don’t believe in having children out of wedlock, that meant marriage to me.)

Anyway, my most recent frustration has been with being a housewife.

You see, I love being a housewife–and I am one, despite not having a husband. I revel in cooking homemade meals and keeping my sink shining. I delight in puttering around my home and neatening things. Tidying, organizing, even scrubbing is fun for me. I make breakfast every morning, fill the fridge with homemade food, wash the dishes every evening. I make sure the house is in order–and when it is, all is well with my world.

I don’t begrudge the fact that I do 90% or so of the housework in the home I share with several roommates. I love doing it. What I don’t love is that I don’t have someone else pitching in to give me the time, money, and energy to focus on what I love doing–being a housewife.

You see, as a husbandless housewife, I have to do double duty. I have to carry out both the “housewife” jobs and the “husbandry” jobs. Not only do I cook all the food, do all the dishes, and clean the kitchen–I also have to work to pay for all the food and have to eat it all (generally without assistance) when I’m done. Not only do I clean the house and make it ready for entertaining–I also have to work to pay the full portion of rent (leaving much less time and energy to carry out my housewifely tasks.)

So marriage sounds really good to me right now.

I can just imagine it. He works to pay the bills and takes care of car stuff. I work to buy us little extras and take care of home stuff. He can bring home the bacon–I’ll cook it up. I’ll clean up the kitchen after meals, as long as he’s there to do his part with eating the meals.

Now I’ve painted myself a panacea, a delicious too-good-to-be-true fantasy–but tell me, how is it that girls who hate to cook, despise housework, and are indifferent to children can get married, but I’m still single?

Please don’t take this wrong. I’m not bitter. I’m not angry. I just struggle to understand God’s purpose in my singleness–when I seem so clearly cut out for the life of a housewife.


A Girl’s Best Friend

Someone once said a diamond is a girl’s best friend. My Dad disagrees. He says ibuprofen is a girl’s best friend. I disagree.

Duct tape really is a girl’s best friend.

Cases in point:

  • When I’m putting together a box and folding just won’t do–duct tape to the rescue.
  • When I can’t take my car through the car wash because the back passenger window won’t roll up completely–duct tape fills the spot neatly.
  • When Casandra’s arrow gets snapped in half–duct tape covers the gaffe.
  • When the hot water heater blanket slips off, leaving the water cold–duct tape works much better than the stuff Menards sold.

Duct tape is a girl’s best friend.

On second thought, ibuprofen has its merits too–headaches, cramps, muscle pain, toothache–it fixes just about everything duct tape can’t.

But diamonds. Diamonds are nice too. Not that I’d know–I’ve never owned one. But they sure look nice.

Who said a girl is only allowed ONE best friend? Diamonds and ibuprofen and duct tape are a girl’s best friends.


Job Day

In case you’re not familiar with the phrase, a “Job day” is a day in which everything seems to be going wrong–a la Job in the Bible. One day as Job’s children were enjoying a feast at their oldest brother’s house, a servant came to Job to tell him that his oxen and donkeys had been raided. Then another servant arrived to tell Job that all of his sheep and shepherds had been killed by lightening. Another servant arrived to say that Job’s camels had been raided and their keepers killed. As a final blow, a last servant arrived to inform Job that his eldest son’s house had collapsed, killing every one of Job’s children.

I can’t say my day is quite as bad as Job’s–No one has died, at any rate. But today has still been a bit trying.

It began at midnight. I was still awake from yesterday, and my nose began to run. It ran for several hours–right down the back of my throat–keeping me from being able to sleep and enduing me with a magnificent sore throat.

I finally slept around 7 am. Waking up at noon to a particularly obnoxious song blaring from my computer, I noticed pop-ups appearing on my computer screen. I investigated a bit–and discovered that I had a Trojan. After several hours of investigation and tweaking, I think I removed it all.

But having been reminded that computers are intrinsically fragile, I thought to back up my files again. So I logged on to the family server to back up my files–and discovered that I didn’t have permission to make any changes within my own designated folder. I should have been able to make changes–I backed up the family photos onto the same drive yesterday. But even after a couple more hours of fiddling, I was having no success.

So I dropped by my parent’s house to see if I could adjust permissions from my mom’s computer (the same computer I’d backed up the family photos from the day before). But, to my surprise and horror, I no longer had permission to do anything on the server from there either. I fiddled a bit with no success, unsuccessfully tried to access the server in the basement directly, and finally decided to give up and have a piece of candy.

I was putting Mom’s full candy jar back when it slipped out of my hand and shattered all over her living room floor.

The post-nasal drip has continued. I put on my skirt this afternoon to find that the hem has ripped loose since I last wore it. My new thigh highs won’t stay at my thigh–instead one side slips down to below my knees. My nose is raw, my throat hurts, and I haven’t gotten even one item on my to-do list done today.

I struggle with Job’s response to his very bad day: “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Instead of returning to praise the Lord, to often I turn to recount my grievances. Sure this day has been a bad day–but then I make it worse by borrowing trouble. I stew about my news from the eye doctor–I’d rather have been born blind than start going blind from glaucoma now. I stew over my singleness. I stew over everything.

The Lord gave me eyesight–doesn’t He have the right to take it back? The Lord gave me health–doesn’t He have the right to retract it? The Lord gave me time–doesn’t He have the right to “waste” it? I came into the world naked and helpless–and I’ll return to the earth in the same state. Is God not still worthy of praise?

So I will praise Him not for what He has done or not done for me, but for who He is. He is GOOD. He is FAITHFUL. He is HOLY. He is ALL-POWERFUL.

My circumstances have changed–but God has not. He is not broken like Mom’s candy jar. He is not swollen like my throat. He is not malfunctioning like my thigh highs. He is not infected like my computer (was). And I still have access to Him–even if I can’t access my folder on the server.

God, it’s been a tough day. But I’m going to praise you anyway.


Twilight: A state of ambiguity or obscurity

I had no expectations when I agreed to see Twilight with my sisters yesterday. I haven’t done much with Anna lately, so when she called to ask me to the movie, I figured I might as well.

I said I started out with no expectations, but low expectations is probably a better descriptor. Face it, teen romance flick + vampire movie ≠ great movie. But Twilight certainly exceeded my expectations.

Grace told me afterward that I would have understood it better if I’d read the books–but I didn’t find it hard to follow at all (which is quite a feat for me, especially without subtitles). The plot was simple and relatively uncomplicated. Knowing that Edward was a vampire from the get-go meant that the entire first half or so of the movie (in which Bella figures out that Edward is a vampire) was pretty dull. The second half sped quickly through what little plot was present and ended with a set up for the next movie (big surprise).

What Twilight lacked in plot it made up in romance–endless shots of Edward and Bella lying next to each other in a meadow, Edward and Bella high in a tree, Edward and Bella at the piano, etc, etc. Which explains the appeal for Grace–and for the scores of young women who adore the movie.

Anna says that she found the concept of restraint and self-control found in the movie refreshing. I agree. You don’t often see self-control promoted in our pop culture. Twilight ups the ante on sexual restraint by having Edward be not only attracted to Bella sexually–but also attracted to her as food.

My primary “thing” against Twilight has always been, and continues to be, that I’m uncomfortable with the degree to which my younger sister (and some of her friends) have gotten into it–particularly, how much they’ve gotten into Edward. I don’t think that obsessions with any fictional or real character are healthy.

The ability of perfectly “okay” books or movies to become pornographic in the mind of a young woman is something that must be guarded against. Unfortunately, discerning what is appropriate and what isn’t is difficult to do. You can’t just check the nudity ratings and see whether there’s a sex scene. You can’t just check the language ratings. Maybe men can use such things to determine whether a movie is safe (I don’t know, I’m not a man)–but women’s minds are much too complex to rely solely on such crude screening devices.

According to screenit.com, Twilight has “moderate” sex and nudity–which consists primarily of a couple of cleavage baring scenes and two kissing scenes. Shouldn’t be a big deal for a girl, right? Not quite. I squirmed through the entire movie–the first half because all the character interactions were so awkward, but the second half because of the sexual tension on-screen. Edward and Bella didn’t have sex. They only kissed on two occasions. But the sneakier, more dangerous material was ever-present. Sitting atop a tree together, watching the view. Walking through the woods, not touching but oh so close. Edward watching Bella sleep. Edward protecting Bella. Intimacy. Closeness. The movie reeks of it. Stronger porn than any sex scene.

The movie wasn’t bad. But I must guard my heart. I won’t be seeing it again.


Final Words

My health program planning professor ended our class tonight (and my last class of the semester) with these words:

“Drive safely. Fasten your safety belts. And drive like the other guy’s drunk.”

Words worth remembering in Nebraska’s inclement weather.


Resolution Writers Anonymous

Hi. My name is Rebekah Menter and I’m a compulsive resolution writer. I’m not sure exactly when it started, but it’s been going on for a number of years. After finishing the bulk of my projects this last week, I decided it was time to start looking forward to 2009. So I got out my books and started to research resolutions.

Yes, I did just write RESEARCH resolutions.

Because that’s what I do. I open up my master life goal file and figure out which goals I want to focus on. I do additional research as required to determine what my specific short-range goals should be. Then, I write my yearly goals and create little planner sheets to help me track them.

Take, for example, the goal/resolution I just finished working on. The large objective, as written in my master life goal file, is “To live healthy to a ripe old age.” Accomplishing that goal, naturally, requires some smaller goals. Which is why I’ve looked over the Dietary Guidelines for Americans and the Physical Activity Guidelines for Americans. That’s also why I’ve reviewed the DASH diet and MyPyramid. Additionally, I’ve looked at the American Cancer Society recommendations for cancer prevention, the American Heart Association recommendations for heart disease prevention, the American Diabetes Association recommendations for diabetes prevention, and the National Osteoporosis Foundation recommendations for Osteoporosis prevention. And, just to be on the safe side, I ran through a few health texts and reference manuals to make sure I included all the appropriate screenings for my age, safety measures, quality of life stuff, etc.

The final health plan for 2009?

Massive

I don’t expect to do it all at once, or to do everything for the entire year. But I’ll be working towards the following health behaviors over the course of the year, tracking them on a handy sheet in my planner.

Daily Health Habits

Diet

  • Grains-8 servings per day, at least half whole
  • Vegetables-3 to 5 servings per day, variety
  • Fruits-2 to 5 servings per day, variety
  • Dairy-2 to 3 serving per day, low fat
  • Meat-2 servings per day, low fat
  • Oils-3 or fewer serving per day, choose polyunsaturated or monounsaturated over saturated fats
  • Water-at least 8 glasses a day
  • Breakfast-every morning!
  • Multivitamin-take consistently!

Other

  • Sleep-8 hours a night
  • Sunscreen-use it!
  • Brush teeth-twice a day
  • Floss-EVERY DAY!
  • Safety belt-wear it (even when you’re a passenger)
  • 10,000 steps-log every day
  • Kegels-60 a day
  • Medication-actually use your nose spray!

Weekly Health Habits

Diet

  • Fish-2 servings per week
  • Nuts, seeds, legumes-3 to 5 servings per week
  • Sweets-limit to 5 servings per week

Exercise

  • Aerobic activity-3 hours per week (in at least 10 minute segments)
  • Strength training-Full body, 3 times per week
  • Stretching-Full body, 3 times per week

Monthly Health Behaviors

  • Breast Self Exam
  • Blood Pressure check

Health Checkups

  • Gynecological exam
  • Blood lipid profile
  • Dental cleanings (2)

If I can work up to this (and maintain it), I should be good to go for the rest of my life.

Of course, I’ll have to add a few more screenings every so often as time goes by: thyroid hormones, mammograms, colonoscopies, Hemocults, eye exams, mole checks, etc. But apart from that, I’ve pretty much laid out a plan for chronic disease prevention and quality of life enhancement.

Next…on to my house goals, educational goals, professional goals–perhaps you get the picture?

It’s probably a pathology.

Resolution Writers Anonymous, indeed.


Working Relationships

There’s nothing like working with someone closely to impose a illusion of intimacy into your relationship.

I know many, and know of many more, who spend so much time at work, and so much time with coworkers after work, that life and work become inextricably twined. I have never been one of those people. I am not one to “hang out” with my coworkers, or to “hang out” at work when I’m not on the clock. Work life is work life, and personal life is personal life.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t find myself in all sorts of intriguing working relationships.

Take T.S. We’re strikingly similar–and completely different. Both in our early twenties and working full-time at HSS. Both our father’s are “higher-ups” in the Housing chain of command. Except I’m a college graduate and he still hasn’t figured out what he’s majoring in. I’m assistant to the assistant managers–and he’s been recently demoted back to the dishroom. “I saw your dad today,” he tells me. “Did you see mine?”

J.H. is serious, responsible, and occasionally silly. “Hi, Rebekah” he says, for the fifteenth time today. We share a burrito and comment back and forth over the counter on what might be done to improve it. “A little more cilantro, a bit of lime, maybe some real chiles.” “But it’s not bad, really.” “It has potential. It just needs tweaking.”

J.B., a couple of months my junior, has taken to calling me “Young lady”–when he’s not calling me “Captain.” As in, “Thank you, young lady.” “You’ve made a mess, young lady.” “Yes, Captain.” Our first semester working together, we mock-fought continually, often calling upon our customers to resolve disputes. “Don’t you think this turkey looks anemic? –Yeah, that’s what I thought too!” Now he’s student manager every other weekend, letting me relax and catch up on paperwork. We confer anxiously over our lack of change, discuss theology and whether his girlfriend is justified in intending to break up with him, and waltz in the serving area after hours.

I knew A.S. for about a week before I asked him to marry me. Thankfully, he said no. Actually, I made his saying no a pre-requisite to asking him to marry me. Which he claims broke his heart. He’s been “wooing” me ever since, until I finally gave in to the offer of a greasy spatula. Our “relationship” is forever on the rocks since he does silly things like calling me (a TOTALLY liberated woman) “his woman” and since his girlfriend is definitely not fond of me. “Why don’t you ask REBEKAH? After all, you are engaged.” *Inject venom here.*

T.N. feels like a little brother, and I have to catch myself before scolding him like a big sister. “What are you doing wearing short pants like that on a day like this? You’re going to catch your death of cold.” He shares the trials of the PSAT, and I commiserate with my own stories from last year’s GRE. “So have you thought about what colleges you’re going to apply to?”

The student custodians came up from the facilities offices this morning to get something to drink. First a group of boys, then a group of girls. Jeff commented on the strangeness of it. “I mean, at OUR age?” I couldn’t help but agree. But then again, maybe my working relationships are a bit strange too.


World Without My Glasses

I don’t really need my glasses around the house. Not when I’m at the computer or reading or puttering. I only need them for my distance vision. So I didn’t have them on when I left for class at 4. By the time I realized I had forgotten them, it was too late to turn back. Welcome to a whole new world.

It was odd, asking a question of a blob on a television screen. It’s always odd doing the teleconferencing thing–but not being able to see makes it even more unusual. Navigating rush hour traffic on two of North Lincoln’s busiest streets was also interesting. I could feel the tiny muscles in my eyes straining to focus.

The library was an adventure. I couldn’t scan the stacks like I usually do–or my head would start spinning with blurry blocks of text. Instead, I had to kneel so that my head was level with whatever shelf I was looking at–so that my eyes could focus on the spines of the books directly in front of me.

I dropped by my parent’s house to ask my brother John about his day at the College of Business Administration’s “Big Red Welcome.” I asked him, teasing, if they had convinced him to join the Business College. He replied, quite seriously, that he thinks they have. I’m excited for him–I think he’ll do great in business. He’s smart, he’s a people person, he’s a go-getter. It’s just that he’s really growing up. Tomorrow he’ll vote in his first ever election–helping to make a decision that’ll shape the destiny of our nation.

I sat down for some pumpkin pie (made by my brother Daniel and his girlfriend Debbie) and my sister Grace began a lament about her civics class. The teacher has switched her teaching style and Grace prefers the old one–in fact, she’s pretty much sure that the old way is the only way she (Grace) can learn. I listened and thought, “External locus of control.” Then I thought, “You’re a nerd.” Then I realized that Gracie is growing up. She’s in high school now–the place where grades start counting. She’s learning our governmental system. She’s learning how to learn on her own (somewhat unwillingly, but oh well.)

The phone rang and we ignored it. The phone wasn’t in its holster anyway. But Joshua bounded up the stairs with the phone to announce a call for Timothy. It was the army recruiter. Tim jumped up and paced towards the school room (soon the piano room)–and then changed his mind and went the opposite direction, into his bedroom. He’s pretty serious about this thing. He’s researched his options. He’s looked into schools. He’s gone over costs and benefits. He’s considered the risks of war. He’s looked into genetic engineering in the military. He’s on the cusp of making his decision. If he decides to join the Army Reserves, he’ll be heading to boot camp next summer.

It seems like just yesterday, they were this:
Tim and Grace as children
and now–he’s talking of joining the military.

I take off my glasses for just a day and the world swirls by, leaving me with a foreign landscape. What happened to yesterday? Where’d it go?

I don’t know–and I can’t waste time trying to figure it out–I’d only end up losing today.