One thing's for sure: Sherpa training does NOT leave me with the ability to write decently. I just wanted to post something anyway saying how wonderful it is being back in Michigan. The rest of this summer did not allow me to relax nearly as much as I've done this past week. I slept in, ate ice cream, went to the beach, got sunburn, visited friends and family, played Scrabble, watched movies, celebrated birthdays, explored playgrounds, decorated a mailbox, and even read a book. Contrasting the rest of the week, today was crazy. Sherpa training began with 12 hours of information overload. Although I agree with the many comments I overheard about how long the day was, I'd say overall I enjoyed it. It's awesome to see the faculty's enthusiasm for the Terra Firma program, to interact with the other Sherpas, and simply to be back on campus. Beside all that, we got to end the day by painting pictures--how fun is that?! It just suddenly hit me how exhausted I am, so I will write more some time in the next couple weeks after new student move-in, camp, and everything else that's occurring in the process.

In the words of Jack's Mannequin...

I'm ready. I leave in just over a week and a half. It's such a short time, it's really not that bad, and I've gotten through the rest of the summer just fine. Now, though, more than ever, I'm filled with such an intense sense of anticipation that it seems like I should be moving out momentarily. A week ago, I was so worried about getting everything done on time. I had to pack, read a book, write a paper, finish one of my projects, and make a big back-to-school Target trip...all while getting my wisdom teeth out, recovering, and working. I still have quite a bit to accomplish, but I did virtually all my packing on Saturday (minus clothing of course), went to Target today, and have been working on everything else so that my list has greatly decreased in length. To top it off, everyone I know is finishing their summer jobs, internships, vacations, etc., and I'm here. I'm ready for Michigan, for the familiar faces of those I lived with for nine months, for hugs, for community, for walking around campus, for being on my own, for carrying around a backpack, for dodging goose droppings wherever I go, for new opportunities, and for memories that will be revived the second that I return. This year will be different. Many adjustments will need to be made. This year is going to be challenging, and I'm a little nervous, but I'm ready.

A day in my life

The past 24 hours have held numerous surprises, mostly relating to my lovely job.

7:00 pm Thursday--As it goes every night, I checked my work voicemail to see if I was scheduled to work today. I was, but only for four hours. Four hours? No problem! Fridays usually aren't very busy. All I had to do was wait for the sales rep to call me with the stores and times, and I would be all set. I'd get an early start so that I'd have the whole day to enjoy myself before my parents came home Saturday.

9:30 pm--After spending a great deal of time contemplating why in the world Beth, the sales rep, hadn't yet called me, I listened to my original message again and realized my manager's assistant who left the message hadn't given Beth my Kraft voicemail number. I looked up Beth's voicemail and left her a message with mine.

12:00 am Friday--I had wanted to be in bed for the past two hours. Unfortunately, still no call from Beth. I checked my voicemail obsessively. Finally, giving up, I went to sleep only to wake up at 1:30 and check voicemail again.

5:01 am--My phone vibrated on my bed next to me. Why is my alarm on vibrate? Oh well, at least it's far less annoying than the little song it normally plays. I typically don't get up at 5 for work, though on occasion I have. Today, though, since I didn't know exactly what was going on, I wanted to be prepared for whenever I had to leave the house--I had never worked with Beth before, but I heard from other merchandisers that she likes to start really early. Voicemail again--nothing.

6:00 am--I got ready for work slowly, checking my voicemail at least three times within the hours. My lack of knowledge as to what was happening plus Winston's incessant whining that spurred my constant response of "It's NOT time to eat yet!" plus the effects of my caffeine detox left me nearly wanting to scream.

6:12 am--while sitting at the kitchen table wrapped in a fleece blanket and eating my nutritious, high-fiber cereal, I breathed an enormous sigh of relief when I heard, "You have one new message." Two stores, no specific times. Sounds great.

6:35 am--I left my house, equipped with Aveda tea, and ready to enjoy my drive to the first store.

7:00 am--I arrived at store #1.

8:35 am--Work went smoothly, but then I sat in traffic, taking 17 minutes to go less than two miles. I love Illinois.

9:10 am--After a long and frustrating drive, I pulled up to store #2: Walmart. The delivery wasn't schedule till 9:45, though. There was some backstock that needed to be put on the shelves, but I still had extra time, so I took a detour to Starbucks that resulted in a free green tea frappuccino. Yes, it kind of broke my "no caffeine" rule for the week, but by that point I really needed something more than ibuprofen to deal with my headache. Since I didn't have time to finish it I wanted to put it in my travel mug, but I had a little bit of tea left in it. I poured the rest of the tea out onto the parking lot, then giggled when it really looked like someone had peed next to my car.

9:30 am--I entered Walmart and just as I started backstock, Dan, another merchandiser, appeared to help me.

10:20 am--With backstock finished, I embarked on a hunt for our shipment, which, as I discovered, hadn't arrived.

10:25 am--Both Dan and I checked our voicemail to see if Beth had left either of us a message about the shipment's late arrival. Nothing.

10:30 am--We wander into the back room to double check and see if anything new had come in the past ten minutes.

10:35 am--Finally! It's here! Oh, oh no....the receiver went to lunch, now there's no one to check in the product. We wait.

10:55 am--All right, the receiver has returned! And...holy crap, that's a lot of shipment.

11:10 am--Right off the bat, we began to discover that whoever did our aisle's reset yesterday is an idiot. Several of our products' facings have been completely removed from the shelves, and others were grouped disastrously. Seriously, why not keep all the Chips Ahoy varieties on the same shelf, rather than scattered in different places on five shelves?! And what is it with Cheese-its taking our spot?! AHHHHH

12:30 pm--I never want to go back to Walmart, ever. Too bad, I have to go again tomorrow!

12:40 pm--I got a call from my mother on my way home, reporting that my family is returning home today, Friday, rather than Saturday night.

12:45 pm--I began frantically cleaning. It wasn't as bad as I anticipated, hence the report of my day.

Things I've learned from working for Kraft:

• I possess the ability to go 10 hours without going to the bathroom
• I am capable of spending extremely long periods of time in Walmart without entirely losing my sanity
• I can fit my body through a six-inch space.
• No amount of time off can fully heal the trauma of this job.

Normality at its finest

I suddenly realized just now that I have a lot to learn about sacrifice. When I think about sacrificing, I think of the story of Abraham and Isaac--sacrificing is obeying God and trusting him no matter what. I also think of Jesus dying--sacrificing is sometimes having to give up something important in order to do what's right. A modern-day example would be two people I know who have given up their summer or even an entire semester to do missions work. One isn't getting paid. Rather, she had to raise thousands of dollars herself. The other is paid, but she could be making more money here without working long hours every single day of the week. Thirdly, I think of Wheat Thins, ("Why Snackrifice?"), but that's another story. That is my picture of sacrifice. With that idea, I was sitting here feeling absolutely useless and worthless. I'm not one for self-pity, though, so I tried to get to the root of the issue. I tried to be elsewhere for the summer, but God brought me back here. I needed a second job, and God provided one. I don't really have friend here anymore, at least not close ones, but God says that's okay. I'm quite obviously exactly where he wants me...yet little or nothing has been sacrificed on my part. Whatever happened to denying myself, taking up my cross, and following him? It occurred to me that I have the large-scale sacrificing down, but what about the small things, the things that you may not hear in great stories of trust and faithfulness, but that are an integral part of one's relationship with God? I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes God calls people to live a "normal" life, have a normal job, and not necessarily do anything they can pinpoint and say "that's important." How, in those circumstances, can I make sacrifices on a daily basis? I very easily get into a rut of just living for myself once I get comfortable with where God has placed me. And I'll be completely happy! Then one day, though nothing out of the ordinary happened, my world will fall apart because God will slap me with the revelation that I'm accomplishing nothing and not growing whatsoever. That said, I don't think God is calling me to do anything differently than what I have been doing. He's asking, though, that somehow I give it to him. I'm not sure how to go about it, but I'm going to try. There's a song I rediscovered a few weeks ago by Jennifer Knapp, called Whole Again. The chorus says, "if I give my life, if I lay it down, can you turn this life around, around?" That's kind of my philosophy for this summer. I'm working on it.

Cookies and Crackers

I just realized it's been ten days since I last wrote anything! Unfortunately, in these past ten days, I haven't thought of anything brilliant. As all of you know, I started my job with Kraft last week, stocking and displaying primarily cookies and crackers. So far, it's been good! Some stores are far better than others, and some of the sales reps are much more pleasant to work with, but overall I really like it.  I like that I get to do a lot of driving to places I haven't been before--I've already learned a lot about where things are and how to get there. The only inconvenient part is that I don't find out if I'm working until after 5 pm the day before. It's impossible to make plans! I don't have a lot to say, though--it seems all I talk about lately is work. After all, all I do is work and spend time recovering from working. It's not too exciting, but it's pleasant.

For some reason, tonight I miss people from school significantly more than usual--Liz, Brad, Sharon, Mandie, Tori...it's sad. I want to go back! I've been happy here, really, but I don't feel like this is where I belong anymore. Like anyone, I act differently around different people. It's not that I'm fake or not myself around any of them; they simply bring out different facets of my personality. I like who I am at school with the people there better than who I am here. I'm happier there, more considerate, less selfish, more ambitious...and these wonderful people whom I miss so much are an enormous part of that. 

On the bright side, I had a really good, much-needed conversation with God on the way to work yesterday. I had no huge revelations or anything; we just talked. And this may or may not be related, but yesterday ended up being a fantastic day. How about that. 

Okay...so if I think of anything interesting to say, I'll write more. I miss it! 

Communion

Last night, with it being the first Sunday in June, my church had Communion during our evening service. I've never liked Communion, except for the fact that it involves food, however small the amount. I always volunteer to help clean up afterward so I can drink all the extra grape juice. Anyway, it's just so formal and serious; it kind of scares me. This time, though, I viewed it a bit differently. As my pastor recited some of Jesus' last words, "this is my body which was broken for you," my mind turned to the Last Supper story that I had just read twice, in Matthew and in Mark. I pictured the confusion on all the disciples' faces at that statement. I continued, thinking about the flurry of events that came almost immediately afterward--the arrest of Jesus, the trial, the crucifixion, and the resurrection. Many of the same disciples who sat around that table in awe of their Lord failed him only hours later. When reading, for example, the story of Peter denying Jesus three times, I often shake my head and wonder how he could've done that. After all, he physically followed Jesus for about three years, and was even warned of it beforehand. Last night, sitting in the corner of my church, I realized something. Within the next few hours of honoring the same events that the disciples did, I, like Judas, would disown Jesus--maybe not on quite so large a scale, but by my attitude and actions. I, like Peter, would deny him, through my priorities. And I, like Thomas, would doubt him, through my failure to trust in the promises he has fulfilled repeatedly in my life. It was humbling, and changed my perspective. For anyone who reads this, I challenge you to think of either specific or general ways in which you disown, deny, or doubt God, and figure out how you can be more like Christ in those areas.

Too much?

I just finished watching "The Devil Wears Prada" (for the third time), and I have come to the conclusion that I have a love-hate relationship with that movie, similar to "Running with Scissors," only for very different reasons. I find it funny and entertaining, despite the fact that Anne Hathaway can't act and even Emily Blunt, I think, performs below par. What really impacted me this time around was how absurdly materialistic our society, and the human race in general, is. Given the money, almost anyone, almost, will maybe not necessarily become greedy and heartless, but will undoubtedly indulge himself far more than he should. 

I work at the lowest end of the fashion industry, and even there it's disgusting. The way we convince people they need certain shoes because they're "in style," they'll attract attention, they'll go with a certain outfit, they're something basic that every wardrobe requires, etc...it's manipulative and utterly unnecessary. But isn't that the whole point of fashion?  

Last week, I was in a mall I don't normally visit with my friend, Ellen. We were there to see a movie because Ellen had a gift card for that particular theatre. There are two reasons neither of us would usually go there: one, we have a perfectly good mall that is closer to where we live, and two, this was is what we refer to as a "rich mall." We had some time to kill before the movie began, so we wandered around with the intention of gawking at the ridiculously high prices of various items. The first store we wandered into was Ralph Lauren. The only experience I've ever had with Ralph Lauren was on the sale rack at Macy's when I was Christmas shopping for my mother. I got her a sweater for about $25. Thinking this may just be one of the sole affordable stores the mall offered, Ellen and I immediately gravitated toward a pair of blindingly bright orange denim pants that we proceeded to mock. Upon sneaking a look at the price tag, we discovered, to our shock, that they were $245. Who in the world would pay $245 for any pair of pants, let alone hideous orange ones? We then found an equally atrocious orange and white striped collared shirt which we combined with the pants to make the Orange Outfit of Doom. 

My point is that materialism is such an issue, yet I realize this and still fall prey to it. As I was watching the movie tonight, I found myself thinking, "Whoa, I look like crap. I definitely need to replace like half my clothing!" Of course I quickly pulled myself out of that mindset, but it left me wondering, how much is too much? There's a lot that I don't exactly need, but I don't think having it is wrong. Where is the balance between having enough to be acceptable by social standards (i.e., a family wouldn't get along too well here if they owned a one-room house with a dirt floor and no electricity or plumbing) and having more than I should? I believe it differs for everyone, but it's still interesting to ponder. The Devil can wear Prada if he likes, but I'll stick to something a bit more affordable that wouldn't forever scar my conscience.