tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-158288892024-02-20T18:39:47.955-07:00Diary of a ContemplativeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.comBlogger531125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-10557027988174940262017-09-26T20:43:00.002-06:002017-09-26T20:43:50.157-06:00The experience of endometriosisHow to explain the experience of endometriosis? It is not a "bad period" or "monthly pain." It is an all-consuming, life-altering pain that has real impacts on quality of life. It is not simple fatigue, but rather, all-out exhaustion that prevents you from functioning. It is not simply irregular bleeding, but instead bleeding on more days of the month than not. <br />
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Endometriosis intensifies with age. This has certainly been true for me. Twenty years ago I used to be able to manage my pain with a normal dose of ibuprofen. When that no longer worked, birth control pills worked for a time. When those stopped worked, depo provera was tried. That never worked. In recent years, I have tried Toradol, a prescription NSAID, which also did not work, as well as narcotic pain relievers. I am very cautious about my use of these because I know that if misused, they can have disastrous consequences. Also, I find them to cause intense constipation which only exacerbates the pain of endometriosis. <br />
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After my laporoscopic surgery last year, my doctor put me onto Lupron. I suffered through six months of this drug, a nasty injection that causes immediate chemical menopause. In my case, it also caused suicidal ideation, mood disturbances, and nearly continuous hot flashes. You are limited to six months of Lupron every few years because it depletes calcium stores and decreases bone density. It is a nasty, nasty, drug. <br />
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I have been taking continuous birth control pills since last April. These have exacerbated my hot flashes and mood swings. They also cause a more or less continuous menstrual period. I pass large pieces of uterine tissue and blood clots. <br />
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I have passed out from pain. I have thrown up from pain. I regularly experience fevers during ovulation and menstruation. I alternate shaking with chills and sweating uncontrollably. The only thing that can somewhat soothe my pain is sleeping in a dark, quiet room with a heating pad. This is not all that compatible with being a functioning human being. <br />
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On Saturday I was woken up out of a sound sleep with a stabbing pain in my abdomen that continued for hours. It was accompanied by a fever. The pain decreased when my period started for the third time in two weeks. <br />
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When I am in pain, I can easily sleep 14-16 hours a day. This impacts my ability to work and be social. <br />
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I know that endometriosis is a progressive disease without a cure. I know that more surgery is likely ahead of me. I know that even when excised, endometriosis lesions can recur. But I also know that I am putting a lot of hope on my surgery next week. I will undergo another laporoscopic abdominal surgery where my surgeon will attempt to excise the endometriosis lesions that I have. I will also undergo a uterine ablation, where the lining of my uterus will be cauterized. Finally, I will have a Mirena IUD placed. The IUD delivers progesterone locally, which will hopefully decrease the side effects I experience from taking hormones systemically. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-22550855269234100132017-09-21T20:57:00.002-06:002017-09-21T20:57:33.250-06:00Endometriosis and Kidney Disease <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmdEOt4aX7mbSh4hLSVLoHTBl7EhhK-uOTgsNUtLrFnZ9Y5yJz8ymSav8Ityt4CPMilLk4KeQFZ18BOD_kMobiaW3KrhMEP-LFX1UbWVhrHkV5lQQl1cQAgzp45LSkklWdwUBjA/s1600/image1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmdEOt4aX7mbSh4hLSVLoHTBl7EhhK-uOTgsNUtLrFnZ9Y5yJz8ymSav8Ityt4CPMilLk4KeQFZ18BOD_kMobiaW3KrhMEP-LFX1UbWVhrHkV5lQQl1cQAgzp45LSkklWdwUBjA/s320/image1.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
I've been tired this year. I have emotionally been through a lot, so I attributed my unrelenting fatigue to a year that included a lot of stressors. Back at the beginning of August I went to my physician for a check up. I was expecting them to tell me that I was likely just worn out and needed to rest. I wasn't sure how this would work, since I was already sleeping about 14 hours a day, but I figured it was probably nothing. Instead it turned out to be something. <br />
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My labs were off, indicating that my kidneys weren't doing their job. My labs have been mildly abnormal for about a year, so my doctor sent me off to a nephrologist, a kidney specialist. I was diagnosed with <a href="https://www.kidney.org/atoz/content/about-chronic-kidney-disease">Chronic Kidney Disease</a>, stage 3, based on my labwork. The other interesting finding is that my body had extremely low stores of iron and downtrending hemoglobin. This anemia was the cause of my extreme fatigue. The kidneys produce a hormone, erythopoeitin, which stimulates red blood cell production, which carry oxygen. My kidneys weren't telling my body to produce enough red blood cells. I was prescribed oral iron supplements. After about six weeks of oral intake of iron, I still wasn't feeling better, so I began a series of iron infusions. Finally I am feeling better. The picture you see with this post is one of my infusions of iron. <br />
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The biggest question is, how did I end up with kidney disease? <br />
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Well, based on my medical history, the nephrologist had an answer for that too. <br />
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Endometriosis. My constant companion of chronic pain. <br />
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I have had <a href="https://www.endofound.org/endometriosis">endometriosis </a>(a disorder of the reproductive system where painful lesions of endometrial tissue grow outside the uterus and adhere to other organs, tissues, and vital structures) likely since I was 13. This disorder is characterized by excruciating pain, and a whole host of other unpleasant symptoms. This disease is only diagnosed by surgery, which I had in September of 2016. To combat the pain, I took exorbitant amounts of ibuprofen. Sometimes up to 24 pills a day, that is 4800 mg, or about 1200 mg more per day than the recommended Rx dose. The kidneys filter drugs from the blood, and my kidneys have taken over twenty years of abuse from ibuprofen. <br />
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I have been very quiet about my endometriosis because there is such a stigma involved with menstruation and the female reproductive system. But I am tired of being quiet about it. Endometriosis has had very significant consequences in my life. I have extensive scarring. I am having a second surgery on October 3. Endometriosis is one of the most common contributors to infertility, and I have been diagnosed with this also. Endometriosis causes intense pain, which I average feeling about 2-3 weeks per month. Endometriosis has irreversibly damaged my kidneys. Kidney Disease has a very slow progression, and because I have eliminated all NSAIDS from my life, my trigger for kidney damage, my disease will likely stay exactly where it is and I will not ever need dialysis or transplant. Since I do not have diabetes or high blood pressure, my kidneys are not under stress any longer. <br />
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This post, my coming out about endometriosis and its consequences in my life, is my attempt to destigmatize and demystify the disease. Watch for more posts to come. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-24573672207381317212017-08-21T19:40:00.001-06:002017-08-21T19:40:52.487-06:00Nevertheless, she persisted...a sermon on Matthew 15:21-28<div style="line-height: 21.6px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="m_4651635834354891768s2" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-style: italic; line-height: 21.6px;">Grace, Peace, and Mercy are yours from the God of abundance. Amen. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">It is a joy and an honor to be sharing the Word today at All God’s Children. My name is Amy </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Hanson,</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> I am an MCC transfer clergy member. I was originally ordained in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. I work full time as staff chaplain at Regions Hospital in St Paul. It is truly a gift to be a part of this community of faith. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">I love Gospel stories where the main character is a woman. It means that what is going on so significan</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">t, that the patriarchy begrudgingly allowed it to be included. </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">And that is exactly what we have going on with this Gospel text. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">To set the sta</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">ge, this part of Matthew’s Gospel is a long series of healings, pronouncements, and miracles. We have Jesus healing the sick, feeding the 5,000, and just last week, we heard about Jesus walking on the sea. After today’s Gospel story, we have Jesus going on to Galilee to do more healing and to feed an additional 4,000 people in another one of his miracles. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px; padding-left: 36px;"></span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Jesus left Jerusalem and went on to </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Tyre</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> and Sidon. A Canaanite woman from that region came and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David, </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">my</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">daughter is tormented by a demon!” But Jesus ignored her. And his disciples came to Jesus and said, “Send her away because she keeps shouting at us.” Jesus said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” He answered, </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">It</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” She responded, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” Then Jesus answered her, “Great is your faith. Let it be done for you as you wish.” Then her daughter was healed instantly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px; padding-left: 36px;"></span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">It is necessary to unpack this text a bit more to understand just how revolutionary and forthright this Canaanite woman is in her persistence. First, there is the obvious fact that she is a woman talking to a man. This alone would have been frowned upon in this day. The disciples indicate their irritation and frustration with </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">her desperate shouting. Next, she is from the land of Canaan, a Canaanite. She is not part of the People of Israel. She is “other.” </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Finally, unlike many people in Matthew’s Gospel, including the disciples themselves, she recognizes that Jesus is someone revolutionary. That he is in the world to do a new thing. She calls him “Lord”, which is usually used to refer to God the Creator, and she calls Jesus, “Son of David” which implies his kinship in the line of the great King David. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px; padding-left: 36px;"></span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">But Jesus doesn’</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">t respond in a way that most of us would</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> find satisfactory. This is one of those Gospel stories that I refer </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">to</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> as “Jesus is being a jerk again.” At first Jesus completely ignores the woman</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">. And the disciples urge him to send her away, because she keeps shouting. Nevertheless she persisted. Jesus says to the woman, “I was only sent for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. I was only sent to tend those who are part of the people of Israel, God’s chosen people.” Nevertheless, she persisted. She kneels before him, and begs plaintively, “Lord, help me!” </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Jesus answers, “It is not fair to take what is promised to the children</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> of Israel and feed to other</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> people.” </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">And the woman retorts, “But Lord, even the dogs get to eat the crumbs from the masters’ table.” And somehow this final plea gets through to Jesus. He responds, “Woman, great is your faith. Let it be done for you as you wish.” And the narrator tells us that the woman’s daughter was healed instantly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px; padding-left: 36px;"></span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">What happene</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">d in this moment? Did the woman’s persistence</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> for her daughter’s healing</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> change Jesus’ mind? This feels like a slippery slope to go down, given that we all have at one point or another prayed without ceasing for something that may or may not have come true. Is it that if you have great </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">faith,</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> good things will come to you? This doesn’t feel true either. I meet many people in the hospital with great faith who still suffer and experience grief and loss. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px; padding-left: 36px;"></span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">What if in this moment, the woman recognized that the blessing of Jesus was not just for the people of Israel</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">, </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">but</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> for all people? It is really remarkable that she recognizes Jesus as Lord, and Son of David, when the disciples don’t seem to get it yet. The woman recognizes that Jesus’ kingship is not just for the house of Israel, the chosen ones. It is for all people. She has so much faith that even a “crumb” of Jesus’ power is enough to heal her afflicted daughter. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Who is God for this woman that she could persist in this way? She really is a model for us.</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> As the beloved community of MCC, how often have we felt like the good news of the Gospel, the promise of Jesus, and the reign of God belongs to someone else? God for the Canaanite woman is a beacon of hope in a dark world. As the MCC, God’s promise belongs to US! God’s abundant life belongs to US! The Canaanite woman teaches us that the abundant new life that comes from Jesus is too big and too much to be contained by human structures of </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">who</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> is in and who is out. </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">This Canaanite woman can teach us something. “This Jesus news is too abundant to say that I must wait.” She is reflecting Jesus’ own ministry back to him.</span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">The Canaanite woman calls out the </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">misguided idea that God’s love is only for a chosen few. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">We are God’s beloveds. God’s promise is for us. Abundant life and blessing and healing and good things are for us. </span><span style="line-height: 21.6px;">Amen. Amen. Amen. </span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="m_4651635834354891768__GoBack"></a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-69678321298026277882017-07-31T14:26:00.001-06:002017-07-31T14:26:13.108-06:00Breaking Point I work in a field where I am reminded every day that someone out there has it worse than I do. But today feels like an insurmountable day. It feels like there are mountains to climb and I just can't do it. I am doing my best to survive my divorce, but it is really, really hard. I am hoping that writing about it will help today. <br />
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My ex (she who shall not be named) and I began to have issues last summer, nearly one year ago. I am not going to tell her actions to the internet because I am attempting to keep in check my desire to slander her. She wronged me greatly, and I will leave it there. <br />
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We tried many months of therapy. We tried a couple months of separation while she was in Washington, DC. Nothing worked. On Valentine's Day, she told me that she had fallen out of love with me. She began to mention divorce. <br />
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We agreed to a trial separation for the spring. It was to be twelve weeks. I located an apartment for us, I would take the first six weeks, she the second. I packed up belongings to take to the apartment. I wasn't happy with this solution, but I was attempting to make it work. I got really sick just before I was to move. She had to move all my belongings out of our shared house and into the apartment while I slept for days on end. <br />
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After I emerged from the fog of sickness, she told me to drive to my new apartment. She said this wasn't permanent, it was just a trial. Until she told me differently two days later. <br />
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On April 3, she said she wanted a divorce. This is the day that everything changed. I shifted in my mind from being married to being divorced. Up until that point, she was the one who wanted divorce. From this moment, I wanted the divorce. I wanted to be free from nearly a year of unrelenting pain and walking on eggshells and weekends where she would kick me out of our house and make me stay in a hotel because she didn't want to see me. <br />
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What do you do on the day when your whole life falls apart? I went to work, because I didn't know what else to do. And I have been forging forward and attempting to put the pieces back together ever since. <br />
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The actual process of divorcing has been a nightmare. We attempted a collaborative divorce process. This was an attempt to save money and expedite the process. But she has dragged her feet and stuck her head in the sand all along. She has gone many weeks without communicating with me or our financial planner (who is doing the division of assets) and our attorneys. She has blocked my calls and text messages. She refuses to turn in documents that are requested by the financial planner. This has now dragged on for four months. <br />
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I am at my breaking point today. I am at a loss of what to do. I am again mired in the concrete of her passive aggressive refusal to move forward. She has yet again refused to turn in required documents. Our financial planner is going on vacation for a week. So I am staring down another week with no progress. No potential of filing the divorce decree this week. Another week of unknowing and still being entangled with someone with whom I want no further contact. <br />
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I am no longer hurt, I am enraged. I am enraged that I have become the driver of this divorce. I am enraged that she refuses to extend even a shred of common courtesy to me or to the professionals attempting to facilitate our divorce. <br />
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I am heartbroken at the hatred I feel for someone that I used to love. I am heartbroken at the coldness and calculation with which she has approached this divorce. <br />
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Today is a breaking point for me. I am just not sure yet what has broken. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-72362657291984621292017-07-06T20:50:00.002-06:002017-07-31T14:33:14.949-06:00Helping a friend through divorceI wish that I was not joining the ranks of the divorced. This is not what I wanted for myself, my life, or my marriage. It was not initiated by me, although I am now pushing forward to complete the process. <br />
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I wish more than anything that this was not my life path. But it is. And I have learned a few things along the way, that might be helpful for those who are helping a friend through divorce. <br />
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The helpful things:<br />
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1. You can attempt to recognize the extent of the impact of the divorce<br />
A divorce is said to be like a death with no body. This is true. The ugly withered fingers of divorce work their work into just about every area of your life. For me, I lost my home, my pets, and started over with $0 in my bank account. Everything changes in an instant. Your friend will feel like the bottom dropped out from under them. <br />
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2. You can offer your friend grace when they are too tired, sad, or otherwise having difficulties coping<br />
Divorce takes a tremendous amount of energy. Just existing takes energy. Your friend likely won't be as productive as they once were. They might be too exhausted to keep up with social obligations. They probably won't remember dates, times, or other things. Extend them grace. My employer has been tremendously gracious to me throughout this season of my life, and I cannot express my gratitude enough. <br />
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3.Make sure your friend is eating healthy food <br />
One of my colleagues gave me gift cards to the cafeteria to make sure that I was eating real food. Other friends brought me coffee, invited me out for breakfast, or otherwise made sure that I was actually consuming food and not subsisting on cereal and bananas. <br />
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4. The little things matter more than you will ever know<br />
The little things that so many of my friends did for me will not be forgotten. Allowing me to do laundry in their homes so that I didn't have to pay for the Laundromat. Picking me up from the airport so I didn't have to take an Uber. Asking me how I was doing and listening to the answer. Making me laugh with funny instagram pictures and cat videos and pictures of their children. <br />
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5. Make sure your friend has a place to go with you<br />
Holidays are hard. Weekends are hard. Special days like anniversaries and birthdays are hard. I am thankful for all the people who reached out to me and took me out for coffee and trips to the farmer's market or walks or board game nights so that I didn't have to be alone with my thoughts. I am thankful for my family who flew me home to Montana for Easter. <br />
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The not so helpful things<br />
1. Don't draw comparisons<br />
Every divorce is different, just like every marriage is different. Your divorce/your parents divorce/your siblings/friends/neighbor's divorce is going to be different from mine. Just because you have lived through a divorce in some capacity does not automatically make us the same. <br />
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2. Don't triangulate/enable triangulation<br />
This is just good advice for life, but also good advice in the aftermath of a divorce. Don't tell me about what my ex is doing. Don't carry messages to/from my ex. Just don't. <br />
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3. Don't give advice/pass judgment<br />
I unfriended and blocked someone really quickly for saying, "every divorce has two people involved in it and two sides to the story" when I reached out for support on a particularly bad day. Also, don't give advice unless specifically asked. <br />
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4. Don't slander my ex<br />
Of course this is something that I want to do, and I may even do in therapy and with my close friends. But it is not helpful for you to do it for me. Please don't. <br />
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5. Don't treat me any differently<br />
I have experienced a loss, but I am not lost. My heart was broken, but I am not broken. I am angry, but I am not enraged. Please just be my friend. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-26712494328802334332017-04-13T20:21:00.001-06:002017-04-13T20:21:36.458-06:00Why I'm breaking up with the ELCAI have started and re-started this post so many times. I wish there was an easy way to say this. I used to love the ELCA. But I don't anymore. <br />
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This is my story of how I broke up with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.<br />
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I have literally been a lifelong Lutheran. I was baptized at just over one month old at Hope Lutheran Church, in Bozeman, MT. As a child, church was a place of comfort and belonging. I played my trombone in the church. I was an active member of youth group. I went to Lutheran bible camp. "Lutheran" to me always had connotations of warmth and home.<br />
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I went to a Lutheran liberal arts college. I spent six summers working at two different Lutheran bible camps. I participated in a Lutheran volunteer program for a year. I used to be proud to be a Lutheran. <br />
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Just before I turned 30 I followed the call to seminary. I attended a Methodist seminary, because it was in Denver and so was I. I entered into candidacy, the process that prepares seminarians to become pastors. I had a wonderfully supportive candidacy committee. They nurtured me and helped me to grow. Seminary was a great experience. I loved Clinical Pastoral Education. I loved my internship. I got clarity on what God was calling me to do, which is the hope of any vocation, and I learned that I was called to be a hospital chaplain. <br />
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This is not acceptable in the eyes of the ELCA. <br />
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Chaplaincy is considered a "specialized ministry" in the ELCA. Other ministries in this category are military chaplaincy, campus ministry, and outdoor ministry. Before you can receive a call to specialized ministry (a piece of fancy paper that allows you to receive ELCA benefits, pension, and so on), you are required to serve as a parish pastor for three years. This is referred to as the "3 year rule." <br />
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I have heard from several bishops, who shall remain nameless, the following with regards to this rule:<br />
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<em>"It is the only way that you will learn how to be a Lutheran leader."</em><br />
<em>"The parish is the location of the ministry of word and sacrament." </em><br />
<em>"We have a clergy shortage in parishes."</em><br />
<em>"We need first call pastors to be in congregations that could not otherwise afford them." (ie: cheap labor)</em><br />
<em>"The truest calling to the ministry of word and sacrament is to be a parish pastor." </em><br />
<em>"Every one else has had to do it, and so do you."</em><br />
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But somehow, something magical happens after three years in a parish that allows you to do specialized ministry. <br />
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I will admit that I have known about this rule since I entered seminary. I also knew that it would be extraordinarily difficult to bypass. I will own that. However, if your bishop is willing to bring an exception regarding this 3 year rule to the other bishops, the Council of Bishops, it is likely that your exception will be granted. This is particularly frustrating because different bishops are more rigid gatekeepers than other bishops. In other words, if your bishop likes you, they will bring an exception on your behalf. If your bishop doesn't like you, you are out of luck. <br />
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This year I found myself with a full-time chaplain job and only 6 months of parish ministry experience. (Because the yearlong parish internship doesn't count as experience.) I also found myself in trouble with my bishop. <br />
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When I asked if an exception to the three years rule could be made, I was denied. I was also advised to <em>"leave this denomination if you can't follow the rules."</em> Shortly thereafter I was thanked for my <em>"caring and compassionate ministry in this city."</em> Which feels like a kick in the stomach, given that this same ministry is not recognized as Word and Sacrament until three years have passed while working in a parish. <br />
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This denomination needs to evolve or it will die. The ministry of word and sacrament isn't confined to a church. The role of parish pastor is just one expression of word and sacrament ministry. It is not possible to make every candidate fit a parish-shaped hole. Just because you have open congregations that cannot afford to pay a pastor with more experience doesn't mean that you should force people into serving parishes who have another calling. <br />
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I am a chaplain in my soul. I love my work. It gets me out of bed every day and I fall asleep satisfied every night. I can point to tangible things that I do to alleviate suffering in this broken world every single day. I am happily doing ministry, perhaps some of the best evangelism there is, at the bedside of my patients. I hear from many people that having a chaplain at the bedside of their dying loved one is such a comfort, and might inspire them to return to a church. <br />
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<strong>I am doing God's work. I am doing sacred, beautiful, painful, and holy work. It is not in a parish. It does not directly support a congregation. I am doing the thing that I simply must do. </strong><br />
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<strong>And so, because the denomination of my baptism, confirmation, first communion, and ordination will not recognize this work, I am breaking up with the ELCA.</strong> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-85787500132157176942017-03-22T20:10:00.000-06:002017-03-22T20:19:23.309-06:00On Talking to Children About Death and grief<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Recently, some of my online groups have been talking about how to talk to children about death and grief. I realized that I am in a unique position with my work at the intersection of life and death to share what I have learned, since I visit with many children and their families about death and grief. <br />
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I have found that the resource, "<a href="https://www.nebraskamed.com/patients/child-life/resources">What Will I Tell the Children</a>?" published by the University of Nebraska Medical Center has been one of the most useful pieces of literature for me. <br />
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Here are some of the things that I have learned in my work as a hospital chaplain about how best to support children with regards to the death of a loved one. <br />
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1. <strong>The importance of security and secure attachments cannot be stated enough</strong>. If the child is experiencing the death of a parent, they need security that they will be cared for. They need to know that adults will meet their needs. It is best to explicitly say this. It can be as simple as, "I know your mom has cared for you up until now, but now we, your aunt and uncle, will be taking care of you. You will live with us." If the child is experiencing the death of a grandparent or other relative, they might feel like their parents could die too. Listen to these fears because they are real. Share that while everyone will die someday, that time will likely not be for a very long time. <br />
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2.<strong> Help your child to say goodbye </strong>This can take place at the bedside or at the funeral service. Encourage the child to say goodbye in their own way. The Four Gifts of Dying ("I love you", "Thank You", "I'm Sorry" and "Goodbye") are as appropriate for children as they are for adults. If the death was sudden, encourage the child to write or dictate a letter to the person that died. It can be buried or cremated. <br />
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3. <strong>Give accurate, age-appropriate information about the dying process </strong>Use simple concrete language. Do not use euphemisms such as "lost" or "passed." Do not be afraid to say "Dead" or "Death." Talk about how once someone has died, they do not hurt anymore. Be prepared for questions like "What happens after death?" and "Where does the body go?" It is okay to let your child know that you do not have all the answers. <br />
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4. <strong>Keep the lines of communication open</strong> Let your child know that they are always welcome to talk. Talking about the loss of their loved one is important and won't cause additional pain. You can say, "I miss Grandpa too. Do you remember some fun times we had together?" <br />
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5. <strong>Enlist the help of outside resources</strong> Involve your child's school (principal, social worker and school psychologist), church (if relevant), and therapists (such as play therapists or family therapists). Let your child know that they are many people who care about their well-being. <br />
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6. <strong>Normalize Grief</strong> Let your child know that it is okay to feel sad, angry, or happy. Sometimes it is possible to feel all those feelings at the same time. Say that the intensity of these feelings will come and go and whatever they are feeling is okay. <br />
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7.<strong> Understand the long-ranging concerns </strong>Children and teenagers who are losing loved ones might be concerned about the future. They might ask, "Where will we spend Christmas now that Grandma is dead?" or "Who will walk me down the aisle at my wedding if Dad is dead?" Provide love and reassurance. Recognize that birthdays, holidays and other special days such as graduations, proms and weddings will come with grief. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-8228715912753394702017-03-06T09:07:00.001-07:002017-03-06T09:07:42.293-07:00On listening<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHLtwtkn8om_wtY4wbAgk3KfIE4GIiGEKi6_oLxsyBV4z7ZOrfZ_QSeRNfC0DU2A0yYRaRkPFs000Vasn4EYCA_no8UnJY2MXh-bVoLMtLGEsb9Y7P_5LCxXsP7He5zzQlhTClQ/s1600/IMG_6817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHLtwtkn8om_wtY4wbAgk3KfIE4GIiGEKi6_oLxsyBV4z7ZOrfZ_QSeRNfC0DU2A0yYRaRkPFs000Vasn4EYCA_no8UnJY2MXh-bVoLMtLGEsb9Y7P_5LCxXsP7He5zzQlhTClQ/s320/IMG_6817.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
My online friend, and fellow worker at the intersection of life and death,<a href="http://www.calebwilde.com/"> Caleb Wilde</a>, said something profound the other day. He said, "Sometimes the only answer is a deeply listening ear."<br />
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One of the things that Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) trains out of you is the impulse to fill spaces with words. It is a human impulse to want to say something comforting or meaningful or give an answer. People of faith are particularly terrible about doing this. The motivation behind it is generally pure, to offer comfort, but it shuts people down. <br />
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I spend lots of time sitting in silence. People often tell me, "your job must be so hard" or "how do you do it?" And my answer is that nothing that I do is exceptionally difficult, but it is not easy. <br />
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There are many, many times that I say nothing at all. I bear silent, compassionate witness to suffering. I speak words of comfort, but I give no answers. Because they are not mine to give. I provide education, such as about the physical symptoms of dying, but I never provide predictions. But most of the time I just listen. Perhaps this is what makes my job difficult.<br />
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I believe it is possible to be accustomed to the physical challenges of this job (to cease being disturbed by trauma or the sights, sounds and smells that accompany hospital chaplaincy. Or if I am disturbed, it no longer keeps me awake at night.) but the spiritual and emotional challenges are another thing entirely. It is absolutely contrary to human nature to say nothing sometimes. But part of being a spiritual caregiver is knowing when to speak and knowing when to listen.<br />
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And in the deepest suffering, words provide little comfort. But showing up, being fully there, and not being repulsed by suffering (as it is human suffering to want to run away) is the essence of chaplaincy. Whenever someone starts wailing in the ER or on the floors, I run toward the sounds of human grief. I take so many grieving mothers and weeping children into my arms. I hold the hands of dads and husbands who are crumbling in the face of trying to be strong. I listen not only with my ears, but with my soul.<br />
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Chaplaincy is when I listen to your soul with mine.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-8155118727654116962017-03-06T08:36:00.000-07:002017-03-06T08:37:11.261-07:00On Hope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWh7_GNNagS39iZPhkKE7ZCsLkImGtgNJdCbagRodQxdLYOY6vN6K1XwxL-DYSbOapqxY5RV1iSnJOM8dkL-bk2epesSn82zU4rDw8wrolzeELtqREAsWwJuNQGgK0rqVmNGIDdw/s1600/Flathead+2010+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWh7_GNNagS39iZPhkKE7ZCsLkImGtgNJdCbagRodQxdLYOY6vN6K1XwxL-DYSbOapqxY5RV1iSnJOM8dkL-bk2epesSn82zU4rDw8wrolzeELtqREAsWwJuNQGgK0rqVmNGIDdw/s320/Flathead+2010+050.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWh7_GNNagS39iZPhkKE7ZCsLkImGtgNJdCbagRodQxdLYOY6vN6K1XwxL-DYSbOapqxY5RV1iSnJOM8dkL-bk2epesSn82zU4rDw8wrolzeELtqREAsWwJuNQGgK0rqVmNGIDdw/s1600/Flathead+2010+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Hope is a tricky thing when you are a chaplain. There is always the fear of "offering hope" when there might be none. Or that when people ask for hope they are really talking about something else, like extending life. </a><br />
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Or they are praying for a miracle, which is a whole different topic. And begging for its own blog post.<br />
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The other day on my rounds on the behavioral health unit, a patient asked me for hope. This was one of those moments (among many) that i stop and pray for God's guidance and that God would give me the words that I needed, because I did not want to screw this up.<br />
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But sometimes, when people ask about hope, they are asking for existential hope. In that moment of conversation with God, where God led me was existential hope. Not the far off hope of "things will be made okay in God's time" but a hope for now. <br />
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Our behavioral health units are really good. The staff is incredibly caring. The rooms are private. But if you are there, hope is in short supply. As someone who has struggled with the existential despair of depression, I understand all too well the lack of hope that comes at times with mental illness.<br />
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What I offered to my patient was a reframing of this experience as a season. Just as the grim winter days of Minnesota slowly give way to spring, so too the grim days of depression give way to a different season. Just as we must simply hold on until spring comes, we must simply hold on until a new day dawns with depression. <br />
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This is not a passive waiting around for time to pass. It involves making the best of what is in front of you at the time. With winter, it is about warmth and coziness and fighting back despair with hot chocolate and sledding and being with loved ones.<br />
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With mental illness, the season waiting for the season to pass is about being engaged in therapies, taking medications if that is your choice, and doing the things that have helped in the past, because odds are, they will help again.<br />
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In the situation with this patient, and in many situations that cry out for hope, hope is cyclical. It has existed once, it will likely exist again. Sometimes we need to be reminded of that. Sometimes we need someone to hold our hope for us. That is yet another function of that many that a chaplain performs. <br />
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When it feels like hope is far away, I can remind you that it has been there before and odds are, hope will again return.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-33197485140823008512017-01-09T08:32:00.002-07:002017-01-09T08:32:41.942-07:00Sabbath Coffee Tour: Vicinity Coffee (43rd Street and Nicollet)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After a bit of a hiatus, the Sabbath Coffee Tour returns! <br />
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This morning I held my office hours at <a href="http://vicinitycoffee.com/">Vicinity Coffee</a> in South Minneapolis, at 43rd and Nicollet. This coffee shop was formerly called Bull Run Coffee. This particular location shares a building with the corporate distributors of Sebastian Joe's ice cream. Therefore, there is always ice cream available. <br />
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Vicinity Coffee roasts their own coffee. I sampled their delicious vanilla latte (they make their own infused simple syrup). They also have a number of specialty lattes with colorful names like Boone's Beard, Shot in the Nuts, and Fist in the Face. The Nicollet location also has an expansive lunch menu (the Lyndale location does not have this same option). This coffee shop serves gluten free baked goods (always a plus for me!) as well as other pastries. <br />
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The espresso is smooth, the vanilla is real, and the latte goes down easily. I am not generally one for flavored lattes, but this one is a winner. <br />
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The coffee shop itself maximizes the use of a small space. There is an large table with plenty of outlets and work space in the middle of the shop. There are smaller tables, as well as a bar, for other seating options. There is free wifi. <br />
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There is plenty of street parking available off Nicollet on either side, but no dedicated parking lot. The working environment is pretty average. Not too loud, but not too quiet. A good place for routine tasks, but not necessarily for tasks requiring more focus. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-35725835811281937792017-01-09T08:18:00.002-07:002017-01-09T08:18:59.580-07:00On New Year's Resolutions and New Creations<div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">Grace, peace, and mercy are yours from the Triune God. Amen</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">Today is a secular
holiday, as the church marks the start of its new year with the beginning of
Advent. But 2016 has been such a tough
year for so many of us, that in this place of faithful Christian community, it
feels important to ritualize the passing of 2016 and look with hope into
2017. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">The past year has
been laden with heavy burdens. Burdens
in our world with continuing war and strife all over the globe, with world
leaders who seem to care only for their own wants instead of the well-being of
their countries. Burdens in our country, with political discourse that has
taken leave from common decency and continued tragedies with guns and drugs.
Burdens in our city and our neighborhoods with racism and sexism and a lack of
affordable housing and healthcare. Burdens in our own lives with concerns of
health and grief and mental illness and infertility and wondering if we might
ever feel happy or safe again. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">Hear these words
from Jesus, “Come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I
will give you rest.” And here these
words from me, as your pastor, “May you find rest in this worship today. Set
down your burdens here, just for this hour, and rest in God’s love.” </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">It feels
exhausting to be human sometimes. To always be trying to make ourselves better. With the start of the new year, some of us
are probably making New Year’s Resolutions. I know that I have already
registered for a few road races in the New Year and have been logging miles on
the treadmill already. The desire to make ourselves into something new feels
particularly acute this time of year.
With a tough year behind us, the need to make something more of 2017 is
real. We want something new. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">Hear these words
from our reading this morning, “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new
creation; everything old has passed away; see everything has become new!” Paul
is writing these words to the community gathered at Corinth who are struggling
to live peacefully with one another. It
might have been a time similar to ours. A time in which corrupt power ruled the
day, money came before the wellbeing of other people, and people fought with
one another. I believe these words are a perfect preparation for the new year. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"> We
are made a new creation not because of anything we do, but because of what God
does for us. God creates us anew each day.
Being made new is not dependent on having the right new year’s
resolution or getting physically fit or eating right, but rather, is because of
what God has done for us. Today, set down the burdens of being human and
rest. Rest in God’s re-creating of you
as a beloved new creation. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">In just a few
moments we will embark together on 15 minutes of shared silence. There are
several stations available for you.
There is a station for healing prayer in the choir loft. There is a station available for lighting
prayer candles. I invite you to write
down your burdens on a piece of dissolving paper and place it into the font,
dissolving it in the waters of rebirth.
There is also a book of gratitude in the narthex where you can write the
things for which you are thankful. You can make a paper crane with your
intentions for hope and peace and new creation in the new year. Or you can simply remain in your seat and
pray. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">Be made new, beloved people of
Christ. </span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-65481695107697748632016-12-30T13:52:00.003-07:002016-12-30T13:54:01.692-07:00Why You Should Donate Platelets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have given blood regularly for a few years now. They love my blood because my veins are AWESOME (one phlebotomist described them as "garden hoses") and because I have a high hemoglobin. Donating blood is awesome and I encourage everyone to do so. But I am going to advocate that you donate platelets. <br />
<br />
I have the <a href="http://www.redcross.org/">American Red Cross</a> donor app which lets me know where my donated blood goes. Most recently, my blood donations have gone into storage. Which is awesome, because it means that there is so much blood out there that it can be stored. <br />
<br />
Platelets are a little different. Platelets are a component of whole blood. They help with clotting and stop bleeding. They are critical for trauma patients and for cancer patients. <a href="http://www.redcrossblood.org/platelets">Platelets only last five days, and someone needs platelets every 30 seconds.</a> <i>I witness someone every day at the trauma center who needs platelets in order to survive. That's why I have decided to donate platelets instead of whole blood.</i> <br />
<br />
I had a lot of questions about donating platelets, so I thought I would blog about my experience in order to get more people to donate. <br />
<br />
Platelet donations require a special machine, called a blood cell separator, so you have to go to special centers, either at blood banks or at hospitals. You usually feel better after platelet donation than whole blood donations, because they give you IV fluids to replace the plasma that they have taken out of your arms. When donating blood, you just get blood taken away and it takes your body approximately 60 days to replace the lost blood. <br />
<br />
Before you begin donating, you go through a brief interview process to determine if you are medically eligible to donate. Also, your hemoglobin is tested with a small finger stick. If both of these things are clear, you are moved to a recliner next to the machine. <br />
<br />
Both of your arms are used during platelet donation. The needles used during the platelet donation are much smaller than used during blood donation. One needle pumps blood out of your arm and into the machine. The other needle returns sterile saline, along with red blood cells back to you through the other arm. <br />
<br />
You will receive an anticoagulant (citrate) as well. Some people have a mild reaction to this, usually a tingling in their mouth or around their lips. You are preemptively given antacids to counteract the effect of this, as the calcium from the antacid works against the chemical reaction caused by the citrate. You can always have more. <br />
<br />
You will also get kind of chilly during the donation process, as room temperature IV fluids are infused. The donation center will have lots of warm blankets and heating pads available. Keeping warm is important not only for comfort, but also because it helps with optimal blood flow in and out of your arms. I brought my own fuzzy blanket and warm socks because I know that hospital blankets are super thin. <br />
<br />
The most uncomfortable part of the whole process is that you can't move your arms. You can watch a movie or take a nap, but you can't really read a book, knit or play on your phone. I downloaded a bunch of podcasts and set them to continuous play. While its important to be hydrated, don't drink too much because you won't be able to get up and use the bathroom. <br />
<br />
It also takes a good amount of time to donate platelets, plan to spend about 3 hours at the donation center. You can watch the progress of your platelets coming out. The yellow fluid is plasma and the IV bags behind it are the anticoagulant and the saline. <br />
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The centrifuge that separates the platelets from the blood is located under the counter of the machine. At the end of the donation process, your platelets will be mixed with the donated plasma. They will tell you all about this and let you watch as much or as little as you like. <br />
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<u>Amy's top ten reasons to donate platelets:</u><br />
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1. They are more critically needed than blood<br />
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2. Because of their short shelf-life, they are always kept local<br />
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3. You get IV fluids replaced, so you feel great after donation<br />
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4. You help patients with cancer, who often can't get treatments if their platelets are too low.<br />
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5. You help patients who have experienced a trauma or internal bleeding<br />
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6. You get to sit in a comfortable chair for about three hours and watch movies and have nurses bring you juice and snacks<br />
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7. You get warm blankets and heating pads<br />
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8. Your ONE platelet donation provides the same amount of platelets that could be extracted from FIVE donations of blood<br />
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9. The needles are smaller than those used for whole blood<br />
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10. You can donate platelets up to 24 times per year, instead of six times per year for whole blood <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-4920127297976032402016-12-26T09:19:00.001-07:002016-12-26T09:19:37.123-07:00For All the Saints, a sermon on Luke 6:20-31
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAS_NuuqUTphyphenhyphend6mBIx2xxCwnyLmoK2q0JzmrdyhMFgxNGyM0I9UFAzIEOsgARLKDnf_s5_Pv50SIkdpQz3VEwngA_LHNf99ccC9_ka5vNiCYFxOBqla1XYQae1GZ_rgOwBeQiQ/s1600/For+all+the+saints+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAS_NuuqUTphyphenhyphend6mBIx2xxCwnyLmoK2q0JzmrdyhMFgxNGyM0I9UFAzIEOsgARLKDnf_s5_Pv50SIkdpQz3VEwngA_LHNf99ccC9_ka5vNiCYFxOBqla1XYQae1GZ_rgOwBeQiQ/s320/For+all+the+saints+pic.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A.Kumm-Hanson, 2016 Iceland</td></tr>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Grace,
peace, and mercy are yours from the God of all the Saints. Amen.</span></i></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today we celebrate
the festival of All Saints. This feast
day in the church year has historically been the time in which the unnamed
Christian martyrs were remembered for their contributions to the faith. Different Christian traditions have varied
criteria for sainthood. In the Roman Catholic church, there are prescribed
standards for becoming a saint, including miracles performed and observed by
others. In our Lutheran tradition, we celebrate the lives of all of God’s
beloved as saints, recognizing that we are all both saint and sinner. On this
day, we remember the lives of those who have helped us to grow in faith,
touched our lives, and helped us to more clearly see the face of God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On All Saints Day,
we remember that we are part of a great cloud of witnesses, part of a river of
humanity, intricate parts of a greater whole of creation, that testify to the
Living God through both our living and our dying. We are saints not because of
what we do or what we believe, but rather, because of who created us. At the
beginning of liturgy today, when the names of our beloved saints were read
aloud, we remembered and gave thanks for their lives. On that list are many loved ones. Parents,
grandparents, children, friends. People who rest in glory after long lives and
people who lost their lives far too soon. On this day of honoring our saints, it is
impossible to forget the sting of death. For even as we know that our beloveds
reside with God, we feel the pain of their loss here and now. We might see far off glimpses of a future
with God in glory, but we acutely feel the burden of death now. It is a moment
of “now and not yet.” On this day when
we remember our saints and the ways that they have blessed our lives, we also
feel woe because these loved ones are no longer with us. Love is both joy and
pain, because when you love someone, that love is always accompanied by the
pain of their potential loss. To be human is to fear death. And to be human is
to be deeply in need of healing by a merciful God. </span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In today’s Gospel
text, Jesus has gathered his disciples and a crowd who have come to him for
healing. He is going to preach what is called the Sermon on the Plain in Luke’s
Gospel. It has similar words to the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel,
but this sermon is not for an elite few on top of a mountain. It is for anyone
who “has ears to listen” as we hear Jesus say to the crowd. We have all most likely heard a few sermons on
these beatitudes. Blessed are the poor,
for yours is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you who are hungry, for you
will be fed. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. What makes
Luke’s account so compelling for me, is that the sermon does not just stop with
blessings. It includes woes also. There is something more here for us to dig
into. Who is woeful? Is it us? Is it our
neighbors? Is it The Other? </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Woe to you who are rich, because you have
received comfort in this life. Woe to you who are full now, for the day is
coming when you will have a hunger that cannot be filled by food. Woe to you
who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when you are publically acclaimed
and well-liked, because that is what your ancestors did to the false prophets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We don’t get to hear what the disciples or
the crowd think about these pronouncements that Jesus makes. But it is likely
that they react similarly to us. Our temptation as humans is to place ourselves
(and others) into one of these two categories, either blessed or cursed. And we definitely want to be blessed. This
division feels particularly acute with Tuesday’s impending election. We want to see ourselves as blessed and
others as cursed. We want to place ourselves into the sainted positions of
righteous and holy and upstanding, and cast others as ignorant or deplorable.
We are blessed because of where we have located ourselves, or where society has
placed us by virtue of our skin color, gender identity, sexual orientation or
age, and others are cursed because they are not in that same place of
privilege. Or maybe we are so broken by systems and systemic oppression that we
feel cursed. That the world has broken us to the point where we only see woe.
That all the blessings belong to someone else.
Sometimes we cannot see ourselves as saints who are blessed, because the
world tells us otherwise. Over and over again. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What does it mean to be a saint? Must we have miracles attributed to us? Must we be perfectly pious? Must we know what it is to follow Jesus? What
if we have no idea, just that we are drawn to this Jesus guy, seeking to be
healed? Like those who followed Jesus in
this Gospel story, who came to hear the Sermon on the Plain, wishing to be in
his presence and hear a word of healing. We don’t know why we are called there,
just that we need to hear the word that makes us whole. </span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">What if being
blessed as saints means catching a glimpse of God’s world and trusting that we
are a part of it? Blessing comes through trust in God and God’s future, in the
hope of justice that this world cannot give. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The woeful are those who answer “yes” to the question, “Is this all
there is?” </span></b></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This
Gospel points to God’s future for us all. A time and place in which we gather
with the saints by the river in God’s presence. And it is a reminder that our
hope is that the same old thing will not continue. That we lean into God’s promise
and God’s future together. </span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">However
it is not enough to passively sit back and look towards the future. Part of our
role as saints is to work towards God’s justice and God’s kingdom now. Some
years ago, some clergy friends and I decided to call out on social media all
the things that provided us hope, provided us with a glimpse of the Kingdom of
God. I have found that this practice of
recognition is the only antidote to the brokenness and death of this world. The
kingdom of God looks water protectors gathered in a fierce prairie wind to
protect the river for future generations. It looks like my good friend Lauren’s
friends attending her funeral this week dressed as Comic Con characters to
honor her memory and her spirit of joy. It looks like children who invite
lonely classmates to sit with them at lunch or on the playground. </span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes
we need to be reminded of who we are. We
are both fully saint and sinner. We are part of a great cloud of witnesses seen
and beloved by God. It is our identity as God’s beloved that has freed us to
walk humbly and with justice now, and trust that we will rest with God eternal
as we pass from this world to the next with all the saints. </span></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-12631624832278193902016-12-26T09:11:00.002-07:002016-12-26T09:20:54.021-07:00Good News of Great Joy for All People, a sermon on Luke 2:1-20<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicu0K-lpEjHGjErFyAAV0W62fd4FeGNEWhmP_2SaAKp2grKeeeorgFx6S6cCNaBRP2l7o2Wc9PYJ2ySsg1NG_ACuNt0ONtSXe2eZxDyPdyZNJ0zUDR3S_x2wmtH8_I180dkniPig/s1600/manger+scene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicu0K-lpEjHGjErFyAAV0W62fd4FeGNEWhmP_2SaAKp2grKeeeorgFx6S6cCNaBRP2l7o2Wc9PYJ2ySsg1NG_ACuNt0ONtSXe2eZxDyPdyZNJ0zUDR3S_x2wmtH8_I180dkniPig/s320/manger+scene.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
A sermon on <a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=349768636">Luke 2:1-20</a></div>
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This past spring
the creator of Humans of New York traveled to Turkey to speak with Syrian refugees.
To capture the most ordinary moments of life for refugees, in the aftermath of
war, in the shadow of terror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
encourage you to check out these posts, I will post a link on the Calvary
Facebook page. He wanted to share the lives of ordinary people just like us,
who are faced with extraordinary challenges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most moving for me was a series of posts from a young girl named Aya.
Aya talked about school and her dog—named George—and what it was like to flee
for her life first from Iraq then Syria into Turkey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is as close as a glimpse to the lives of
refugees that many of us will ever see, and in these moments, we learn
extraordinary things about humanity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
learn that we are more similar than we are different, that refugees are our
siblings instead of our adversaries, and that even the Son of God was a
refugee. </div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
What if Mary and Joseph’s time in
Bethlehem had been captured by Humans of New York? Their story is more similar
to one of Syrian refugees than residents of New York City. I imagine a picture
of a woman nursing her newborn son, sitting amongst straw and animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saying, “I never really wanted it to happen
here. I wish I could have stayed home in Nazareth. But it is census time, and
we didn’t have a choice. We were told to go. I guess I hoped the birth would
happen at home. But here we are. We are refugees in this place, waiting to be
counted for tax purposes for the empire.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Joseph is standing in awe, as new
parents often are. He says, “He isn’t my child, you know. I had a lot of shame
about this in the beginning. Mary came to me one day and said that she was
pregnant by the Spirit of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
couldn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it, until the angel told me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then to think we had to travel all the way
over here. Our lives really are not our own.” </div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Mary, holding the infant Jesus,
“Meet Immanuel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His name means ‘God is
with us.’” </div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Powerful words. Earth shattering
words. The most ordinary human things are extraordinary when God shows up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What does it mean that God was born into this
world to refugee parents in a strange land? To a pregnant unwed teenage mother?
In a shed with animals? </div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It means God shows up in some
pretty unlikely places. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
In Luke’s Gospel account of the
birth of Jesus, we hear about some angels making an appearance to shepherds
keeping watch over their sheep in the fields at night. It was probably
impossible to ignore an incandescent angel in a dark field at night, and we
hear that the shepherds were terrified.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The angel says, “Do not be afraid! Because—see—The Greek word for see in
this text translates to “Behold!” or “Go see for yourselves!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(It is an imperative, compelling them to go
see what the birth of this baby was all about.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">I am
bringing you news of great joy for ALL people.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
It is significant
that the angels would deliver this message to shepherds. Shepherds would not
have been among the social elite of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They were likely to have been young boys, maybe 10 or 12 years old. They
lived in the fields with their sheep, so they probably didn’t smell all that
great, and they only had each other for company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They lived on the outskirts of town or in the
wilderness with their sheep and had minimal contact with the “respectable”
people. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
By appearing to
the shepherds, this multitude of angels would have made it clear that this good
news is for EVERYONE.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The angels didn’t
appear in a shopkeeper’s home or to a priest or even the innkeeper. This is
like angels appearing at the Cedar-Riverside interchange to those gathered
there flying signs requesting spare change, instead of showing up inside a
church. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The angels compel
the shepherds to go “Check it out!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and explained
how to find this new infant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the
angels disappeared, the shepherds turned to one another and said, “Let’s go to
Bethlehem and see this crazy new thing that has taken place, which the angels
of the Lord told us about. So they practically run into town to see for
themselves. </div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
They meet the new
parents and the infant Christ. They relay excitedly what had been told them by
the angels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hear that Mary “treasured”
these words in her heart, because they confirmed what she knew already from her
own experience with the angel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
this not just good news for several millennia ago. Angels appearing to the least
likely audience, shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night, and
compelling them to “Go and See!” is something that echoes through the ages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God coming into the world as a human child is
very good news and something to behold. This is the incarnation, the putting on
of flesh, and it did not just happen once. God lives incarnate in every single
human being. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
What would it look
like if we heard the message of the angels tonight for ourselves?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“Do not be afraid; for go and see—I am bringing you good news of great
joy for ALL the people: to you is born this day in the city of Minneapolis a
Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” </b></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Christmas is the
gift from God, of God’s very self, for all of us. That the world might know God’s
love, in us and through us. </b></div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This good news compels us to share
it!</div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Go see for yourselves where Jesus
is to be seen!</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Go reflect Christ’s love and light into
all the places of the world that so desperately need it. </div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
This is the good news of the
incarnation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">MERRY CHRISTMAS!</b></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-30948940223105037532016-10-05T09:20:00.000-06:002016-10-05T09:20:13.628-06:00What we can learn from the animals...a sermon on Matthew 6:25-33<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Grace, peace, and
mercy are yours from the God of all Creation. Amen. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was an internet meme floating around this summer about
“What God was thinking when creating the animals.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of these are too good not to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When creating parrots: How about a tie-dye chicken who
screams actual words at you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When creating snakes: how about a sock that is angry all of
the time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When creating kittens: Make them fluffy and cuddly. And put
razor blades on their feet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When creating spiders: Make it a land octopus, that can walk
on walls. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When creating dogs: These turned out great, I am going to
need all of these back someday. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I am so thrilled to be preaching in
worship this morning, as we celebrate the life of St Francis and bless the
beloved animals with whom we share our lives. I have always had dogs in my
life. From my childhood pets, to the dogs that my parents and sisters have now,
to the dogs that compose my family here in Minneapolis, I have always believed
that the love that we give and receive from animals can teach us about God and
being God’s kingdom in the world. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
We too are
beautiful creatures created in the image of God. We hear in our Psalm that God
created all of the world and all of the living things in it. All animals that
walk, swim, and fly upon the earth were created by God, all of humanity
included. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want to sometimes distance
ourselves from being creatures, being animals, because we want to ascribe some
of our instinctual qualities to our animal selves. Like competition for
resources or the desire to procreate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
want to harness our instincts into self-control and being polite. I think one
of the defining characteristics of being human is the tendency to worry. This
is one of the things that sets us apart from the animals with whom we share
this earthly home. And there are many things about which to worry. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
We worry about
paying bills and meeting deadlines. We worry about making friends and fitting
in at school and work and even church. We worry about climate change and
systemic racism and diminishing resources for an exponentially growing
population. We worry about being happy and fulfilled in our vocation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes we even worry because we aren’t
worrying enough or don’t seem to be worrying about the things that other people
are worried about. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
The Gospel that
we heard today from Matthew gets right to the heart of this matter. Jesus is
teaching to the crowds while he moves about the countryside. He was speaking to
people who really didn’t have anything to lose by dropping everything and
coming to hear this desert prophet speak. He wasn’t speaking to people who were
influential in their communities or local government or who really had any power
or privilege. There was legitimate concern for where their next meal would be
coming from or whether or not they would have clothing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
While many of us
here may not have these survival worries, we do have deep concerns for our own
lives and wellbeing. For coping with mental illness, physical limitations,
raising well-adjusted children or helping aging parents into the next phase of
life. Look inward…what are you most worried about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What wakes you in the night or occupies your
daytime thinking? What is the one thing, or multiple things, that give you a
lump in your throat and makes you feel as if you might never be free?
<pause><o:p></o:p></pause></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
With that in mind, hear this
summary of the Gospel…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Therefore, listen to what I am telling you:
don’t worry about staying alive or about what you will eat or drink, or about
your body or what you will wear. Isn’t living life more than looking towards
your next meal or your clothing? Look at the birds? They don’t plant crops or
harvest them, and yet, your heavenly parent feeds them! Don’t you think that
you are of more value in God’s eyes? And can any of you make your life any
longer by worrying?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why are you worrying
about what you will wear?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think about
the lilies of the field, how they live. They neither sew or weave fabric, yet
they are clothed like royalty. But if God provides beauty to the grasses of the
field, which is alive for such a short time, will God not care for you even
more? Therefore, do not worry, asking, “what will we eat or drink? Or what will
we wear? For it is those among you that do not have faith who think about these
things, and indeed your heavenly parent knows your needs. Strive first for the
kingdom of God, and all these things will be given to you. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I have always loved this text. That
is why I picked it for this Sunday where we bless the animals with whom we
share our lives and our homes. I love the imagery of a tiny sparrow, fragile,
vulnerable and how God provides for that sparrow. I love the imagery of a lily
of the valley being clothed in royal finery by God. I love the message of “Do
not worry, because it is not going to add any years to your life.” Because I
believe that it is something that we need to hear constantly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Do not worry. Because it is not
going to do anything to benefit you or provide you with what you need. Strive
to be close to God and God’s people, by ever seeking out the kingdom of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your needs will be met in this way. What does
it look like to seek after the kingdom of God?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
It looks like a group of God’s
beloved gathered in a sanctuary with their dogs, cats, snakes, geckos, stuffed
animals and pictures of dear pets. Gathered together to sing praise to God
through song, barking, meowing and whatever noise rodents make. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
It looks like the beauty that we
create together for beauty’s sake. The music that Andrea and our choir create
each week. The flowers and gardens that are lovingly tended on our block. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Striving after the kingdom of God
looks like this congregation coming together to provide a warm wall tent for
the community gathered at Standing Rock so that they might survive the winter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Seeking God’s kingdom looks like
the faithful food shelf volunteers greeting our south Minneapolis neighbors
with care and hospitality each week. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
The kingdom of God is all of us
gathered here today, in this space, craving the Word and the Body of Christ,
that we might go out and be of service in our schools, work, and homes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
We are going to worry, because we
are human. It is what we do. But God wants us to be free from those worries and
to rest comfortably in God’s presence. This is what we can learn from the
furry, feathered and four legged friends here today. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
Animals teach us
about joy. Those of you that have dogs will know that there is some variation
of “Let’s go for a walk” or “Want to go for a ride?” or at my house, “Do you
want to go bye bye?” that will make your dog lose their mind with happiness. Or
with cats, the sound of a can opener or a shaking of treats will bring your cat
running from anywhere in the house, purring and weaving between your feet. We
can learn something about the “drop everything and be happy” approach to life
that our animals show us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
Animals teach us
about being present in the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
dogs aren’t worried about finding success at work or paying bills, they simply
want to be with the people they love and find joy in this being together. When
we go for a walk, they are smelling flowers and trees and observing squirrels
and birds. They aren’t distracted by what is back at home. When I think about
living live intentionally, I think about how animals interact with what is
around them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are present in this
time, enjoying and engaging what right now has to offer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
Animals teach us
about freedom from worry. They see that their immediate needs are met and then
they simply live. They aren’t concerned with building up their resume or
retirement accounts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They aren’t
striving to find happiness, because happiness is wherever they are at that time.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
Today we
celebrate the feast day of St Francis of Assisi, who exemplifies seeking the
kingdom of God by showing kindness to all of God’s creatures. He is the patron
saint of animals and the natural world. In the Lutheran tradition, we do not
have much of a history of celebrating saints, certainly not as much as our
Roman Catholic siblings. But St Francis is a fascinating person, both saint and
sinner. He is the founder of the religious order known as Franciscans, the
largest order in the Catholic church. Franciscans, generally men, although
there is one subset of Franciscan nuns, are known for wearing brown robes, and
devoting themselves to contemplation, preaching, and service. St Francis of
Assisi, named for the town in which he resided, has a complicated and
interesting history. In his youth, he was known for debauchery. After a
religious conversion experience, he was said to have devoted himself to
repairing rundown churches, using money made from selling goods he stole from
his father. He was known for brokering peace settlements, particularly for a
visit to North Africa in an attempt to stop the Crusades. He is remembered for
a great many acts of kindness and mercy and is often depicted while holding a
small bird in his hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>St Francis was
a preacher and prolific writer, known especially for a song called the Canticle
of Brother Sun, which was used at the time as a shared expression for people of
different faiths, but a shared experience of care for one another. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I leave you with the Canticle of Brother Sun
today:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 362.25pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Most high, all powerful, all good
Lord!<br />
All praise is Yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To You, alone, Most High, do they
belong.<br />
No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce Your name.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through all
Your creatures,<br />
especially through my lord Brother Sun,<br />
who brings the day; and You give light through him.<br />
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!<br />
Of You, Most High, he bears the likeness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through Sister
Moon and the stars;<br />
in the heavens You have made them bright, precious and beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through
Brothers Wind and Air,<br />
and clouds and storms, and all the weather,<br />
through which You give Your creatures sustenance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through Sister
Water;<br />
she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through Brother
Fire,<br />
through whom You brighten the night.<br />
He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through our
sister Mother Earth,<br />
who feeds us and rules us,<br />
and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through those
who forgive for love of You;<br />
through those who endure sickness and trial.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Happy those who endure in peace,<br />
for by You, Most High, they will be crowned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be praised, my Lord, through our
sister Bodily Death,<br />
from whose embrace no living person can escape.<br />
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!<br />
Happy those she finds doing Your most holy will.<br />
The second death can do no harm to them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Praise and bless
my Lord, and give thanks,<br />
and serve Him with great humility</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-58384890029768105042016-07-28T10:51:00.001-06:002016-07-28T10:51:18.976-06:00What do Chaplains wear? When I first started this chaplain gig four years ago I remember being entirely puzzled by what to wear for my shifts in the hospital. This is a professional job, but it comes unique challenges when it comes to attire. I will share a few of the things that I have learned in the hopes that it might be helpful for all those CPE students or other chaplains. I can only speak to women's attire, perhaps my male colleagues have more to offer for men.<br />
<br />
First, hospitals will likely have a dress code of some sort. Chaplains fall into the "professional" category of employees, but do most of their work in clinical areas and have direct patient contact. Other professionals who fall into this category include social workers, registered dietitians, pharmacists and psychotherapists. At the bare minimum, hospital dress codes usually include closed-toe shoes, socks (no flats for women unless wearing tights or socks), and what is termed "professional/business casual attire." For women this can be button-down shirts, slacks, cardigans, skirts, etc. Some hospitals have their own specifics. I've worked at facilities that required me to cover my forearm tattoo (hence why I have a wide variety of cardigans). My current employer has requested that we dress "for safety", which means no dangling scarves, neckties, earrings, necklaces, etc, that could be become hazardous by being pulled by patient or caught while doing a task.<br />
<br />
Next, think about what you need from your clothing to complete your tasks at work. I carry two pagers simultaneously, which means I need somewhere to clip them. For this reason, dresses don't work for me and I never wear them to work. I will wear skirts if they have a tailored waistband that can support the pagers. I also need pockets because I am frequently carrying around pieces of paper, rosaries, and other things. My work requires standing, but also bending my knees and squatting down next to beds or chairs, and lots of walking around. I have found that what works best for me to wear are high-end tailored neutral color scrub pants. My favorite style is the five pocket pant from Grey's Anatomy by Barco. I have them in black, charcoal and khaki. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3buAKtEx8zh34dhSJuK0VpAQxuS0kTKiRbdaJ8gY54F1aMwz2mO_IObApJIiDLkH2VD-s8rupjC9TUnTPs9AgmkPxSXnjqVrvDapzdTtlx4sOjyctNc0MxuBkNepX8Xay8bWZDA/s1600/IMG_7080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3buAKtEx8zh34dhSJuK0VpAQxuS0kTKiRbdaJ8gY54F1aMwz2mO_IObApJIiDLkH2VD-s8rupjC9TUnTPs9AgmkPxSXnjqVrvDapzdTtlx4sOjyctNc0MxuBkNepX8Xay8bWZDA/s320/IMG_7080.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a typical summer work outfit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
They have pockets, look presentable and are comfortable. This may or may not be acceptable depending on your hospital. I am frequently cold at work, as hospitals keep temperatures low to reduce infection risk. I wear layers (cardigans, fleece vests or sweaters) all year. Bonus points if your warmup jacket contains pockets. You need to wash your hands a lot, so having sleeves that roll up is important.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjF4oX75rwsde0n-CKLwePqB0-kzUmg2hJQiugrjtV23UlZhaM7RUe6Y0hsusTFEo6AJgsxbLsx1U5Pyf_IMRJZiD-EvaYnWdpEwVNqU-mOsR4ouvCbCcbdgwaAUDaoN-7ZYu-A/s1600/IMG_7083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjF4oX75rwsde0n-CKLwePqB0-kzUmg2hJQiugrjtV23UlZhaM7RUe6Y0hsusTFEo6AJgsxbLsx1U5Pyf_IMRJZiD-EvaYnWdpEwVNqU-mOsR4ouvCbCcbdgwaAUDaoN-7ZYu-A/s320/IMG_7083.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a typical cooler weather <br />work outfit for me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Third, think about your clothing as it relates to infection prevention for yourself and for your patients. Some units (at my hospital the SICU and Burn Unit) require you to remove a sweater, jacket, cardigan or lab coat upon entry. Everything I wear to work is machine washable, because I have no interest in dry cleaning. As evening chaplain, I am on every single unit. I could be in the ER with extremely injured patients, I could be on the burn unit with patients at high risk of infection, I could be on labor and delivery or I could be visiting someone on enteric or contact isolation precautions in the MICU. I do not want my clothing to become an infection vector for myself, my family, or other patients. So once I wear something to work it goes directly into the hamper at home until it is washed.<br />
<br />
Shoes are an important consideration when it comes to comfort, functionality and safety. I wear a dedicated pair of Danskos to work. They are the Pro XP model, which has a slip resistant sole and removable insole. I have custom orthotics which fit into the clogs. I walk about 14-16k steps per day at work, so comfortable shoes are a must. I wear these shoes pretty much only to work and they live just inside my front door because I have no desire to track anything nasty into my home.<br />
<br />
With regards to accessories, I wear a watch or fitbit everyday. I note when I enter and exit a patient's room, because I must enter that into a chart note later. I have a work notebook that is covered with leather and has a pen attached for this purpose. It has taken many iterations to find a system that works for me. Sometimes I use scraps of paper, but I find that the notebook is useful for keeping track of information for more than one shift and sometimes patients or families will request a blank sheet of paper and I can just tear one out of my notebook for them. I usually have one or two pens clipped to my shirt or in my pockets also because pens are a hot commodity in a hospital. Hospitals require you to wear a name badge in a place that is visible above the waist. I wear mine clipped to my collar on the left side. This gives me access to hospital doors, the employee parking garage, and identifies me as someone who belongs at the hospital.<br />
<br />
A note on clergy shirts for chaplains:<br />
I would never wear a clergy shirt while visiting patients in my work as chaplain. For me, a clerical collar belongs in a parish as a work uniform for the pastor or preacher. Just as I would never wear my employee badge to preach in a congregation, I would never wear my clergy shirt to the hospital while employed as chaplain. I find that the image of a clergy collar can be off-putting to patients who might have had bad experiences with church and who are already in an extremely vulnerable state while being hospitalized. For me, not wearing a clergy shirt is a matter of hospitality. I also find that outside my specific Lutheran context, a woman in a clergy shirt is confusing and controversial. I find that the shirt is a distraction more than a comfort. People know that I am not a Catholic priest but cannot seem to make the required leap that I am a pastor. Additionally, chaplains are interfaith. I visit patients who are Christian, but also Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hmong, or no particular religious tradition at all. A clergy shirt can create barriers to conversation or create a sense of exclusion.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-4142260295168656572016-07-28T09:50:00.001-06:002016-07-28T09:50:39.560-06:00These Shoes<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKaR4Tc-0o2MnAgapYcm6lQ7XUjS-dpmgv1l5V-RSaHcGo_L6nzVfuvML6Ng-yLybE2QbuvF4Axmdd6pdc9LdFfnnA_iYWtkZ5jJDRGeovpmA74XETtnhnXtdKzbqUvC0KHMoPw/s640/blogger-image--2112072417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKaR4Tc-0o2MnAgapYcm6lQ7XUjS-dpmgv1l5V-RSaHcGo_L6nzVfuvML6Ng-yLybE2QbuvF4Axmdd6pdc9LdFfnnA_iYWtkZ5jJDRGeovpmA74XETtnhnXtdKzbqUvC0KHMoPw/s640/blogger-image--2112072417.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These shoes belong to a chaplain. These shoes are "hospital shoes", which is a nice way of saying they barely make it inside the front door of my home. Because I have no desire to bring MRSA, CDiff, VRE or anything else home to my family. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These shoes are hardworking shoes. They walk endless miles of hallways, at least 5-6 miles a day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These shoes are covered in blue surgical booties in bloody traumas or operating rooms at the time of organ donation. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These shoes stand alongside deathbeds and extubation procedures and trauma bays. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These shoes are stared at during family consults and death notifications and on silent elevator rides with families who leave their beloveds in a sterile morgue.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These shoes see so much. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-50792646978760718702016-07-12T15:45:00.003-06:002016-07-12T15:46:59.217-06:00On Black Lives Matter: A letter to other liberal white peopleI have struggled with whether or not to write anything about Black Lives Matter, because the last thing the world needs is another white person centering their voice in the movement. I have had a voice for too long, so before I go any further I will lift up the voices of some folks of color whose words have inspired me.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://nekimalevypounds.com/">Nekima Levy-Pounds </a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.broderickgreer.com/">Broderick Greer </a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.episcopalchurch.org/staff/most-rev-michael-b-curry">Bishop Michael Curry</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.wilgafney.com/">The Rev Wil Gafney, Ph.D</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.communityunitedmethodist.org/staff/">The Rev Grace Imathiu</a><br />
<br />
This is by no means an exhaustive list and I welcome further suggestions to expand my reading lists. I have also appreciated the writings of <a href="https://utsnyc.edu/academics/faculty/james-h-cone/">James Cone </a>, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/17/books/review/ta-nehisi-coates-between-the-world-and-me.html?_r=0">Ta-Nehisi Coates</a>, and <a href="http://newjimcrow.com/about-the-author">Michelle Alexander</a>. I encourage you to check them out, familiarize yourself with their work and become conversant about Black Lives Matter and the profound racism that continues to plague people of color in America.<br />
<br />
As a white person, I have my voice heard almost automatically. My privilege allows others to listen to what I have to say. So I need to proceed carefully with what is mine to say.<br />
<br />
<b>Primarily, what is mine to say is to own my white privilege.</b> I was born with advantages because of the color of my skin. I have never been followed in a store for fear of shoplifting. I have never had to fear for my life when being pulled over by police, I just have to fear for a speeding ticket. I don't have to be expected to speak for my entire race or have my experience be generalized as true for all other white people. I benefit from institutionalized racism. I benefit because I have white skin. <b>I might not like to think that I am racist, but I am racist. Because I unknowingly benefit from privilege in an untold number of ways. Because I am ignorant of all of these benefits. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Next, what is mine to say is that it is not the "job" of people of color to educate us (white people) about racism. </b>It is OUR job to educate ourselves. Google Black Lives Matter for the basics. Visit NAACP's website. Check out any of the websites of the people linked above. Ask me questions and if I don't know the answer, we can find it out together.<br />
<br />
<b>Generalizations such as "We're all the same inside" or "I don't see skin color" etc, are violent. </b>They erase the lived experience of racism and pain and injustice of people of color. These expressions are said with good intentions, but good intentions aren't good enough. Commit to educating yourself and educating your family, friends and neighbors.<br />
<br />
<b>Don't assume that your experience is the same as that of others. </b>I have many family members who are law enforcement officers. I work with police, sheriffs, and detectives nearly every day in my work at the hospital. By and large, my interactions with law enforcement officers have been positive. I respect the work that they do. I have never had a bad interaction, but I don't know the experience of others. Part of my role as an ally to the movement is to honor the stories of others and to believe what they are telling me. It is entirely possible to respect law enforcement officers and want to hold them to a higher standard and because of the many cops that I respect and work alongside, I do want ALL police held to higher standards.<br />
<br />
<b>Don't EVER say, "All Lives Matter." Period. Don't do it. </b>Our racist culture reinforces in thousands of ways that some lives matter more than others. We are lifting up Black Lives Matter because it is time to uncover the racism that has plagued our siblings of color. This is yet another example of invalidating the experience of so many people of color. <b>As white people, we already know that our lives matter. We must keep proclaiming that <u>Black Lives Matter</u>.</b><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-31707158240801513852016-07-12T12:51:00.001-06:002016-07-12T12:51:42.950-06:00The Kumm-Hanson's visit Iceland: final thoughts and tips<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVpDuVsf0MCwIJDfph5qPLOIXaXgJGyFI9QtRmZnBzyibaalflaRRHKxqo1MpXY7TqlndUEiIgtViAyGvjId_CopRMD1nYGLpY2Z8tG15YeezyEbl8prFyAR97mRwPLBvntfrnQ/s640/blogger-image--1507191998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVpDuVsf0MCwIJDfph5qPLOIXaXgJGyFI9QtRmZnBzyibaalflaRRHKxqo1MpXY7TqlndUEiIgtViAyGvjId_CopRMD1nYGLpY2Z8tG15YeezyEbl8prFyAR97mRwPLBvntfrnQ/s640/blogger-image--1507191998.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A few helpful tips that made our trip a success: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1. Get a TEP. This is a portable wifi Hotspot. It allowed us to use our phones as GPS devices. It was $10 a day, with unlimited data. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2. Make sure you have a PIN for your credit card. Most places were fine with a chip reader and a signature, but gas stations require PINs. This was an afterthought for us, but we are glad we did it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3. Go swimming as often as possible. Icelandic pools have precise etiquette: take your shoes off before entering locker room, take a full shower without swimsuit, leave towel in locker room near shower & don't use your cell phone in locker rooms or pool. Embrace it & relax. Pools are the main social spot in Iceland and they are spectacular. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">4. Cash isn't really necessary. We picked up a nominal amount of cash in the airport, but really only used it for tipping drivers and small purchases like coffee. And if you need it, ATMs are readily available. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">5. Bring an eye mask. The sun didn't really set in the summer. Regulating our sleep was a real challenge. It was difficult to go to sleep without the cue of darkness. We also took Benadryl a few nights when we were really keyed up. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUK5wLC0O8FXhT6V59JReEAUnLWC6fnuiUk_WKjcIbkP2UESY7fZBnjmbvVTSEwppvPaJ8XuEFaZo9Acvm9mLnBfpbwS8W-wCnxZ0CG1vReCnz2prxu85COpVGBEwUezFgOqluQ/s640/blogger-image-1554069994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijUK5wLC0O8FXhT6V59JReEAUnLWC6fnuiUk_WKjcIbkP2UESY7fZBnjmbvVTSEwppvPaJ8XuEFaZo9Acvm9mLnBfpbwS8W-wCnxZ0CG1vReCnz2prxu85COpVGBEwUezFgOqluQ/s640/blogger-image-1554069994.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Thanks for a spectacular honeymoon, Iceland. This is Greenland from the air upon our departure.</div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-38599028748106058492016-07-12T12:38:00.001-06:002016-07-12T12:38:15.070-06:00The Kumm-Hanson's visit Iceland part 7: the Icelandic countryside<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4gAvhnTC9kkbVSJSk6RKImDNzgo-pqiB4fhCXPGTW2YdNkKUHtmWEKjxUskiQlm8dO550pfRKH8bNuEL5s8MczMNAssFpExsBMhg3z2aKriQ090fJy6HNC0XhpvArlmBq8_Zk8w/s640/blogger-image--1829641022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4gAvhnTC9kkbVSJSk6RKImDNzgo-pqiB4fhCXPGTW2YdNkKUHtmWEKjxUskiQlm8dO550pfRKH8bNuEL5s8MczMNAssFpExsBMhg3z2aKriQ090fJy6HNC0XhpvArlmBq8_Zk8w/s640/blogger-image--1829641022.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">On our way to Jokulsarlon we saw the south coast of Iceland. We stopped in the town of Selfoss for lunch, which is pretty much the last larger town in order to buy food or other things in larger stores. Most small towns have gas stations (N4 is the common one here) and there are generally cafes and coffee shops also. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But there are large swaths of countryside with nothing but stunning scenery and lots of sheep. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We stopped at Seljalandsfoss. Absolutely breathtaking! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJzfByBafS1CIcnrDKpzwXnvH4PAEESoAcoTKCAJFCvEYrb6j6v5NGQFtt5_jhrU_DI9TTsnZTO00-uTenZOQ1bDIOBRxjI4WvB_jAafjVsd2WlShef4hJnhts710FKMjvfwd2A/s640/blogger-image-1159226562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJzfByBafS1CIcnrDKpzwXnvH4PAEESoAcoTKCAJFCvEYrb6j6v5NGQFtt5_jhrU_DI9TTsnZTO00-uTenZOQ1bDIOBRxjI4WvB_jAafjVsd2WlShef4hJnhts710FKMjvfwd2A/s640/blogger-image-1159226562.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NP4FuwuFMRPYFloaGsyCPW82ElO6tZkvsAdsVuXY85eyZI4eocdfcLyy9_vrN7iKX0m2RavVly_rmjKCuOLDGAF9E5_dLQWEFdfZUR7FEXpKrXHYzW0p1ePKGzIDp4wyaP0Nwg/s640/blogger-image-1236157367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_NP4FuwuFMRPYFloaGsyCPW82ElO6tZkvsAdsVuXY85eyZI4eocdfcLyy9_vrN7iKX0m2RavVly_rmjKCuOLDGAF9E5_dLQWEFdfZUR7FEXpKrXHYzW0p1ePKGzIDp4wyaP0Nwg/s640/blogger-image-1236157367.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You can hike behind the waterfall. This waterfall is right off the road, so it's filled with tourists and tour buses. There's a food truck and souvenir shop, as well as basic outhouses. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Next waterfall is Skogafoss, a powerful and tumultuous expanse of water. There's an epic hiking trail behind the waterfall that allows you to access a glacier. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxX_190FUVQoW2FNbrlXQWx1r_v6T8L3ruqsR9OXFmmtowMenT_dyzffIg6Tr29TH7nJN5Am4mbME6f3x2oVe-vA6KlzrbNqPQ2h_gBdr3CJTqr6G-dbNcwpI_UVXzf_suN6Jf8A/s640/blogger-image-450127998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxX_190FUVQoW2FNbrlXQWx1r_v6T8L3ruqsR9OXFmmtowMenT_dyzffIg6Tr29TH7nJN5Am4mbME6f3x2oVe-vA6KlzrbNqPQ2h_gBdr3CJTqr6G-dbNcwpI_UVXzf_suN6Jf8A/s640/blogger-image-450127998.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5DgAuoe89RDWuAYU3jb5dHkxQFNJv_LpkLdWtR5fcbdTqpbl5ech6Dy6EASmdYIu6WBhPLsYk_2srjRBhxryK3B7a1V9Fc_hqlYEZF3lGVvETuEgtp87sU-aioH11eS27Ujkleg/s640/blogger-image-1585798609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5DgAuoe89RDWuAYU3jb5dHkxQFNJv_LpkLdWtR5fcbdTqpbl5ech6Dy6EASmdYIu6WBhPLsYk_2srjRBhxryK3B7a1V9Fc_hqlYEZF3lGVvETuEgtp87sU-aioH11eS27Ujkleg/s640/blogger-image-1585798609.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3KAotto8PWTo9cFFfYlU3MPkM7q_62B36b3BHFIqqw1z0pHc1-WhM2SRbPaaNzEYlLD3MiVFl7tcVC1RVJ6QYqWeuEVSFha5gPNAgHN2W7Ny0RHy36fqphVBGCZXwkMLCXjPBA/s640/blogger-image-503220498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO3KAotto8PWTo9cFFfYlU3MPkM7q_62B36b3BHFIqqw1z0pHc1-WhM2SRbPaaNzEYlLD3MiVFl7tcVC1RVJ6QYqWeuEVSFha5gPNAgHN2W7Ny0RHy36fqphVBGCZXwkMLCXjPBA/s640/blogger-image-503220498.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This appears to be a popular camping spot. You can tent near the trail. There are clean modern restrooms with showers (think KOA), as well as a tiny town with cafes and hotels. </div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This is the volcano that caused a worldwide issue in 2010 and got people thinking about Iceland. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqI9LRhKxp1_d73D50TijqJf2xOkH7ihEzU8m70IZNg0if8AlE8rIcGR4eYsZHOQ6ZOdD7kX5my58-9Or92j1lPy_LYe_RCUICO8m7njyZKUu2BKWv5ZMtXcu3o3ikkjWfZc62Q/s640/blogger-image--2131900015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqI9LRhKxp1_d73D50TijqJf2xOkH7ihEzU8m70IZNg0if8AlE8rIcGR4eYsZHOQ6ZOdD7kX5my58-9Or92j1lPy_LYe_RCUICO8m7njyZKUu2BKWv5ZMtXcu3o3ikkjWfZc62Q/s640/blogger-image--2131900015.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">On our return to the city we stopped at Vik, a town on the black sand beach. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxCBL3Bsp7opcSva6o6znPTsz5LzHsvq5Mo21ITwN4xRd3FQtdQJJ14sjp8PV6Vgd7eEMdnICNc_vl2MR1pGcFBQ3u2LGLksJ4_ZRzdXD6Nm72yqI44vuNHki_SH9bVWDFwkN5w/s640/blogger-image--86102376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxCBL3Bsp7opcSva6o6znPTsz5LzHsvq5Mo21ITwN4xRd3FQtdQJJ14sjp8PV6Vgd7eEMdnICNc_vl2MR1pGcFBQ3u2LGLksJ4_ZRzdXD6Nm72yqI44vuNHki_SH9bVWDFwkN5w/s640/blogger-image--86102376.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZuiUzU4sRdfyISmlOTunHy6L1fQbhh9KfFX0dQc7reR1KfoqvyGjR5xgO43oy14CANX_A5NaT0P4LZSDsLGOD1DIgqrMe0ObKPPD-FxEzjzQovZQkn_qlhpEn4IYvQetCkVrFA/s640/blogger-image-986105160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZuiUzU4sRdfyISmlOTunHy6L1fQbhh9KfFX0dQc7reR1KfoqvyGjR5xgO43oy14CANX_A5NaT0P4LZSDsLGOD1DIgqrMe0ObKPPD-FxEzjzQovZQkn_qlhpEn4IYvQetCkVrFA/s640/blogger-image-986105160.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Vik is a good place to stop for gas or food. There's an excellent restaurant (try the seafood chowder!) as well as what appears to be an Icewear outlet store (Icelandic woolen items). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And some random beautiful things to look at:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMfZSH4XpGQIXQjjN7eBQssYXTOsx4gERsq9OncIPIaC1zNU5nqYBqnqcSwTwC2_9RE5hUxa3BqeBrYt7OIQAGykst4tNVBa_RWNZcs9kGv-xAmq2iRily-cXIUBl6EbMriGydcw/s640/blogger-image-1491103610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMfZSH4XpGQIXQjjN7eBQssYXTOsx4gERsq9OncIPIaC1zNU5nqYBqnqcSwTwC2_9RE5hUxa3BqeBrYt7OIQAGykst4tNVBa_RWNZcs9kGv-xAmq2iRily-cXIUBl6EbMriGydcw/s640/blogger-image-1491103610.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_n7igyeXcWGFDIxRwL5E8p0hbCozOCrQcFYJrBlRR8WBbHd9ND0PM7Wci2YBXvsSWMyTK8iWHzzg3uR1X8G8XdXVkBrH8LG_zV_DKZ69YKx8BESQ_ISxDne8_nhPAQFXQ-GJ4qw/s640/blogger-image--257044722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_n7igyeXcWGFDIxRwL5E8p0hbCozOCrQcFYJrBlRR8WBbHd9ND0PM7Wci2YBXvsSWMyTK8iWHzzg3uR1X8G8XdXVkBrH8LG_zV_DKZ69YKx8BESQ_ISxDne8_nhPAQFXQ-GJ4qw/s640/blogger-image--257044722.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DzZKZqI2tqSZ4DkyX7BDeSHizx0Ie8C63cjycoINyq79oFmaal5A88fA8F1z1pyIpb4mqr_6ii7RoVZ-5ZHEuSqAictx9_vETY3lTpdpBg6RncZKj4Br8eL1jBYmZcFV-tgh6A/s640/blogger-image-214930062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DzZKZqI2tqSZ4DkyX7BDeSHizx0Ie8C63cjycoINyq79oFmaal5A88fA8F1z1pyIpb4mqr_6ii7RoVZ-5ZHEuSqAictx9_vETY3lTpdpBg6RncZKj4Br8eL1jBYmZcFV-tgh6A/s640/blogger-image-214930062.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8fR7gTwPf7hHDQNTCcJxSdLvjuv7Jd_6ODOlDheiEwTV4Ui2PP9O-Yd4zgRtdBPa-FuI8alvhSq8BqhgyGtzOhWGz54sd4JXrQFV0JTDcB_3TQgIEOOYz9GVctsZ1sxkpR2grw/s640/blogger-image--164793143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8fR7gTwPf7hHDQNTCcJxSdLvjuv7Jd_6ODOlDheiEwTV4Ui2PP9O-Yd4zgRtdBPa-FuI8alvhSq8BqhgyGtzOhWGz54sd4JXrQFV0JTDcB_3TQgIEOOYz9GVctsZ1sxkpR2grw/s640/blogger-image--164793143.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-40347708064629186362016-07-12T12:17:00.001-06:002016-07-12T12:52:04.113-06:00The Kumm-Hanson's visit Iceland part 8: glacier lagoon and Jokulsarlon<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVttHuzN6ij1pmNyE93hHXdzDnU4Q0EeApVUwi99zT-xn9CR8lTUzHxbSZIvHCB4eAKVSYk4hZuSTA_vUX9gjXTUtKA68o_DqLPWiMpta8ns1YwJibHqBHXkH4HzWQWLRndTz4g/s640/blogger-image-1379765415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVttHuzN6ij1pmNyE93hHXdzDnU4Q0EeApVUwi99zT-xn9CR8lTUzHxbSZIvHCB4eAKVSYk4hZuSTA_vUX9gjXTUtKA68o_DqLPWiMpta8ns1YwJibHqBHXkH4HzWQWLRndTz4g/s640/blogger-image-1379765415.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We left the city to explore the countryside at the suggestion of our taxi driver, she mentioned Jokulsarlon, which means "diamond beach".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We stayed at Fosshotel Glacier Lagoon, a brand new four star hotel near the lagoon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQTzvHLm6STqIBUS-ubC-DZ8GJ6Wn80OA_1Na3PFcsvOaGMMiFHag-yQfsqLNC-7opu9yzb60jq9Do9qRQ1XY3FKYMGpehY6wjPqFzYBG_-EdgU190xss08JjNyj0earvJDiYFA/s640/blogger-image--7000761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoQTzvHLm6STqIBUS-ubC-DZ8GJ6Wn80OA_1Na3PFcsvOaGMMiFHag-yQfsqLNC-7opu9yzb60jq9Do9qRQ1XY3FKYMGpehY6wjPqFzYBG_-EdgU190xss08JjNyj0earvJDiYFA/s640/blogger-image--7000761.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The glacier lagoon was just beyond the hotel and it was incredible. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIAz8aMMZL-oLHl1qOJ_8DvlDZhRctwfzrUS0nMO7VGYqL222MxLpJ9cE3VdBgKqLrATh4N4A7LVidKnIFgKrQtnAoTSVhiAe55DaaJiqPZDM3RQU3F4XU00gm_bnEVQxvcJISA/s640/blogger-image-1620178961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIAz8aMMZL-oLHl1qOJ_8DvlDZhRctwfzrUS0nMO7VGYqL222MxLpJ9cE3VdBgKqLrATh4N4A7LVidKnIFgKrQtnAoTSVhiAe55DaaJiqPZDM3RQU3F4XU00gm_bnEVQxvcJISA/s640/blogger-image-1620178961.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sXDvqi7mevmq0GcS-QqpUg6CdUeA_Sf7PgN5J5JnmjzC4tYtLlIz1CzDp11-BrYcD6CUKcIftKGxc8POIbBwlZDx8YxILtzkq3hUlVaybRbwff_FUh5ly3yA1OBFICvrBW5v6Q/s640/blogger-image-616898860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sXDvqi7mevmq0GcS-QqpUg6CdUeA_Sf7PgN5J5JnmjzC4tYtLlIz1CzDp11-BrYcD6CUKcIftKGxc8POIbBwlZDx8YxILtzkq3hUlVaybRbwff_FUh5ly3yA1OBFICvrBW5v6Q/s640/blogger-image-616898860.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbxOHgGbj_-pIA8s_JXEDEc9YZDKKGf56EWlF0lVWG7d2a7YzKj8yqhPy96z5ghOT3USu4XkkA6CaR47sIb5-OkOlPJzL8Nzvx8O-pK5Xp-s1-t0Wwa1K045tAdZabk2u3_jnJA/s640/blogger-image-155947981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbxOHgGbj_-pIA8s_JXEDEc9YZDKKGf56EWlF0lVWG7d2a7YzKj8yqhPy96z5ghOT3USu4XkkA6CaR47sIb5-OkOlPJzL8Nzvx8O-pK5Xp-s1-t0Wwa1K045tAdZabk2u3_jnJA/s640/blogger-image-155947981.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Glaciers calve into this lagoon and flow out to sea. It's possible to take boat tours of the lagoon, although that's not something we did. There's a small cafe and coffee shop also. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The beach has chunks of ice on black sand which look like diamonds. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIO1ErP7NYZKOm6mSlVH6lxZoPixtHZfBjETyeDMAonZMOb9hBL92o9XEOJHTVo3xIaAyWkWNOr6EUJKgw3hWhMirVwmoF55zfYs7FxaCCZFfc2sXJhbJvq-ZSyJ8idr96mling/s640/blogger-image--1621591475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIO1ErP7NYZKOm6mSlVH6lxZoPixtHZfBjETyeDMAonZMOb9hBL92o9XEOJHTVo3xIaAyWkWNOr6EUJKgw3hWhMirVwmoF55zfYs7FxaCCZFfc2sXJhbJvq-ZSyJ8idr96mling/s640/blogger-image--1621591475.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv88Zx_ybC-IBjCyQyThYh6k8VlvgLeM74SPesT0ZpsXLH_iGXcHs7PBkvHjuOtx0Ax-uESTCfMr0nv3TdRYgpoLY6nWNJ4fu9HQJZKUsGtqxpiTa66VzJnpRdT-mT7ncfsBdPsA/s640/blogger-image--1488400196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv88Zx_ybC-IBjCyQyThYh6k8VlvgLeM74SPesT0ZpsXLH_iGXcHs7PBkvHjuOtx0Ax-uESTCfMr0nv3TdRYgpoLY6nWNJ4fu9HQJZKUsGtqxpiTa66VzJnpRdT-mT7ncfsBdPsA/s640/blogger-image--1488400196.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNd5paaoJVLo68inxb9dMWKGOVMUI5yaQAuvgcPgjVwDqwhTICLTC5BKikCq-X5gQqTOEFvU1xpzvZ3JZ1X2l9a_ADcu02s4QRtiVXvktTXdDYyHfp6diH7at53IcwWJNDWMkFg/s640/blogger-image-1099075808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNd5paaoJVLo68inxb9dMWKGOVMUI5yaQAuvgcPgjVwDqwhTICLTC5BKikCq-X5gQqTOEFvU1xpzvZ3JZ1X2l9a_ADcu02s4QRtiVXvktTXdDYyHfp6diH7at53IcwWJNDWMkFg/s640/blogger-image-1099075808.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xpnwFAuTs2cq4XMCdh3Gz39wX-1T9IL32qdeEswBhaiQfCzGGAKdbGWkUOZ7NBH5X4IErtIK6791z8l4_jTx9I6IkM2aA2EOtKLMlXQMP9a0i-P92IkF73IVR2a0fMbZ6EvILg/s640/blogger-image--1983562073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2xpnwFAuTs2cq4XMCdh3Gz39wX-1T9IL32qdeEswBhaiQfCzGGAKdbGWkUOZ7NBH5X4IErtIK6791z8l4_jTx9I6IkM2aA2EOtKLMlXQMP9a0i-P92IkF73IVR2a0fMbZ6EvILg/s640/blogger-image--1983562073.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-33964132842092431392016-07-12T12:05:00.001-06:002016-07-12T12:05:50.947-06:00The Kumm-Hanson's visit Iceland part 6: Harpa<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7RkHnO2LGtyf6QcO0NUDw1OpQ7Z4ZqWqlZQga6KiEouwSzQ5Im5TmJjuOtf6c48iuiIkofmw2yH75mlPQkDcy0bw9_Ql6FsJi7BvmTnO8E5f0MaExfLVEwIRxEuJMx3AiU3hoA/s640/blogger-image--1935476348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY7RkHnO2LGtyf6QcO0NUDw1OpQ7Z4ZqWqlZQga6KiEouwSzQ5Im5TmJjuOtf6c48iuiIkofmw2yH75mlPQkDcy0bw9_Ql6FsJi7BvmTnO8E5f0MaExfLVEwIRxEuJMx3AiU3hoA/s640/blogger-image--1935476348.jpg"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Harpa is the positively stunning concert hall/performance space on the waterfront in Reykjavik. There are multiple performance spaces inside. We caught a humorous (and historical) play called Icelandic Sagas, which told the story of the mythology of Iceland. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCUgrmawsO4Nm4bpAGmZblgcq93Cu3sfkbIE2gdEZFQNK07SjIh66_EE3x0p6QY_j8hLIhZuejCUxAQfBYvkK5DvyBYQVpe-woMk_K80pOhTwvz86Zpzsdsv-p4GbpIHVR3D2tg/s640/blogger-image--901922358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCUgrmawsO4Nm4bpAGmZblgcq93Cu3sfkbIE2gdEZFQNK07SjIh66_EE3x0p6QY_j8hLIhZuejCUxAQfBYvkK5DvyBYQVpe-woMk_K80pOhTwvz86Zpzsdsv-p4GbpIHVR3D2tg/s640/blogger-image--901922358.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtKoShVKtZJYgPiBM0HU4GbUb8mHIKUm3LIblRjD-KXLddtZPq-RPpRBYhIgW-2waVsYNAsZnKqec5-_Zsux0na_NqldjdNkyWHxE-ZA4yO9-vQpIcCnLrvZW3G5XC-x1qwjpeA/s640/blogger-image-1084837562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtKoShVKtZJYgPiBM0HU4GbUb8mHIKUm3LIblRjD-KXLddtZPq-RPpRBYhIgW-2waVsYNAsZnKqec5-_Zsux0na_NqldjdNkyWHxE-ZA4yO9-vQpIcCnLrvZW3G5XC-x1qwjpeA/s640/blogger-image-1084837562.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0KcEros05Beng5Tt4dwPLx1liXMnrKftMGD1wwUOVUDAJbJzOhIXdr98iuGpia3Km0SxcVTKe9WHuNoTohdVLAMJuDk4TrfEBvVpWIG_1koqT3t5_GNsbGpSVDygXmTDS5WoNQ/s640/blogger-image--1281316508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0KcEros05Beng5Tt4dwPLx1liXMnrKftMGD1wwUOVUDAJbJzOhIXdr98iuGpia3Km0SxcVTKe9WHuNoTohdVLAMJuDk4TrfEBvVpWIG_1koqT3t5_GNsbGpSVDygXmTDS5WoNQ/s640/blogger-image--1281316508.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir9EwUBdxTHMV436L9uAipCr1DDSJW6QVMRo5JVbWGlDxPlOsMd8VS50YEUD1Ybh_nolkoMBVfFpDC3xeNGqgMaRmuUQWIKHUNWTr-1cTnjrwUr0PCaE1UKrZrY2L1V5dwW5k73A/s640/blogger-image-734460541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir9EwUBdxTHMV436L9uAipCr1DDSJW6QVMRo5JVbWGlDxPlOsMd8VS50YEUD1Ybh_nolkoMBVfFpDC3xeNGqgMaRmuUQWIKHUNWTr-1cTnjrwUr0PCaE1UKrZrY2L1V5dwW5k73A/s640/blogger-image-734460541.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-49416544915805647542016-07-12T12:01:00.001-06:002016-07-12T12:01:13.660-06:00The Kumm-Hansons visit Iceland part 5: more Reykjavik<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWHmrETtsgbPgSmWs4rudTid9t18fHF_croJ2ghhAW_whG6YMgZK2Y3b8OhdlfWDHTlun7bIs1fzC7ohOH8ueOxTcMI8VX2exIVZAho94HfHAdem8OdNXd2eMvG7ybi5C-32BNuQ/s640/blogger-image--1057620206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWHmrETtsgbPgSmWs4rudTid9t18fHF_croJ2ghhAW_whG6YMgZK2Y3b8OhdlfWDHTlun7bIs1fzC7ohOH8ueOxTcMI8VX2exIVZAho94HfHAdem8OdNXd2eMvG7ybi5C-32BNuQ/s640/blogger-image--1057620206.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We spent a fair amount of time hanging out around Reykjavik. We enjoyed coffee at Babalu (Skolarvordustigur 22). <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sCEJy4s7rF69_YkRbF0wnD8XoEnCIJuRjJRaBUrQiLtm8BCWaYiwsbk-2H3w13pvHmfo13sep2oQoZbOdwrFafz0F4F7GVGu_g1hJNtwk2D_QZu4OIkWTnOV_urwgNX3JcvQeA/s640/blogger-image--297230690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sCEJy4s7rF69_YkRbF0wnD8XoEnCIJuRjJRaBUrQiLtm8BCWaYiwsbk-2H3w13pvHmfo13sep2oQoZbOdwrFafz0F4F7GVGu_g1hJNtwk2D_QZu4OIkWTnOV_urwgNX3JcvQeA/s640/blogger-image--297230690.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And gluten free crepes at Eldur and Is (Skolarvordustigur 2). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We had a late lunch at The Laundromat cafe, (Austurstraeti 9) I had carrot parsnip soup that I still dream about. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpS0e5QI8s-3MC9yKtvfSq9Ee_3HHxse1kP61o3h-u5TVJZYEWFPd_9zpvxBy3AOJltRziDL7hAtTtQvoQ8lOI7uOIHyAmwFM5Ir7AeZ5Sw5pmaTnG7c0LUv9cd8rFZCghpZNLA/s640/blogger-image--628249293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpS0e5QI8s-3MC9yKtvfSq9Ee_3HHxse1kP61o3h-u5TVJZYEWFPd_9zpvxBy3AOJltRziDL7hAtTtQvoQ8lOI7uOIHyAmwFM5Ir7AeZ5Sw5pmaTnG7c0LUv9cd8rFZCghpZNLA/s640/blogger-image--628249293.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLyaylWv1UZ27xYIFO1t8mBCIOEkNQmY2szMdH7nUfU1EP2vcpKyWtlhGKZFuJCH_Gw-CNkH0xpkiQQ8qnG-93KalsxR31Af73wds33XuJ1mlUPI108gRReMT53DCU8Sh1-OZGw/s640/blogger-image-1330080056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLyaylWv1UZ27xYIFO1t8mBCIOEkNQmY2szMdH7nUfU1EP2vcpKyWtlhGKZFuJCH_Gw-CNkH0xpkiQQ8qnG-93KalsxR31Af73wds33XuJ1mlUPI108gRReMT53DCU8Sh1-OZGw/s640/blogger-image-1330080056.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-36927587016819835332016-07-09T12:35:00.001-06:002016-07-09T12:35:24.916-06:00The Kumm-Hanson's go to Iceland Part 4: Adventuring<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKgSEue3arr0r_tdODxDU5kw0EHvNEgkf0pEBPbeHvxx4bzhauLVEB7ACo6uDYzTjDgnBoUaribOh7oiZsVV5xXI_28tkE9utGouluN1B4ADKuSfBZavcZw3pabSDS_PHFy6SG5A/s640/blogger-image--1222446328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKgSEue3arr0r_tdODxDU5kw0EHvNEgkf0pEBPbeHvxx4bzhauLVEB7ACo6uDYzTjDgnBoUaribOh7oiZsVV5xXI_28tkE9utGouluN1B4ADKuSfBZavcZw3pabSDS_PHFy6SG5A/s640/blogger-image--1222446328.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLLu1eQZOimGdpDn4rTTcVfZixLLstbfVFnZhL5aZS5f63qrfUr6XKdZkxeTLavvXNNoHaDakM-oZigPIn6hCiL4_qtjOyB8Vu6t06gVhPPlKo3PwhAPud55L_Ihhh_rWUxISDZA/s640/blogger-image-1331412914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLLu1eQZOimGdpDn4rTTcVfZixLLstbfVFnZhL5aZS5f63qrfUr6XKdZkxeTLavvXNNoHaDakM-oZigPIn6hCiL4_qtjOyB8Vu6t06gVhPPlKo3PwhAPud55L_Ihhh_rWUxISDZA/s640/blogger-image-1331412914.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VM0Y2HV2-Aos9IxKpAoKApopXPFiYO5iK1KFafVWLMp1BciM0o-Y21o7WOCuWtRJYiLnMRdLL395pYsV-6v7yEIC2q2MgteV8Nh0WhwNwzgOITMXxBeXYao-Ih-JaP2hmirkzQ/s640/blogger-image-485826384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VM0Y2HV2-Aos9IxKpAoKApopXPFiYO5iK1KFafVWLMp1BciM0o-Y21o7WOCuWtRJYiLnMRdLL395pYsV-6v7yEIC2q2MgteV8Nh0WhwNwzgOITMXxBeXYao-Ih-JaP2hmirkzQ/s640/blogger-image-485826384.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi0LtnHxmi3pr7-vaN6lCBtiahPTTgSOAoYXZMLZYf2AjpbPFJSIjkzZtF5XhpbvNES30wBc84XLYQG-3nFhBTy0O5mb1BL6D6oolPn-aq1AwuT971d5tT4VQFg4dzBp6KV8pVA/s640/blogger-image--1055821568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUi0LtnHxmi3pr7-vaN6lCBtiahPTTgSOAoYXZMLZYf2AjpbPFJSIjkzZtF5XhpbvNES30wBc84XLYQG-3nFhBTy0O5mb1BL6D6oolPn-aq1AwuT971d5tT4VQFg4dzBp6KV8pVA/s640/blogger-image--1055821568.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We went on a trail ride with Laxness horse farm, located only a short drive from Reykjavik, which also arranges transportation. This is a family run operation, and they clearly love their horses and love the people who come to hang out with them. I highly recommend this company! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Earlier in the day we went caving in Laederandi, a lava flow cave just outside Reykjavik. It was about a two hour trip, with excellent guides. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fIMgAB7LIH3Yd6Tg_Uw0Dba6aXxPMRklN-kVIznKRzgLTWYgjD-ZYdX5_FO3n1bfk9BfcKI8_ZKHV-x08gUxnG8dMv8eAI6Mnn5dPIlI_bhAiQfidY5ojj9YznRdXqzCXNATLg/s640/blogger-image--779370045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fIMgAB7LIH3Yd6Tg_Uw0Dba6aXxPMRklN-kVIznKRzgLTWYgjD-ZYdX5_FO3n1bfk9BfcKI8_ZKHV-x08gUxnG8dMv8eAI6Mnn5dPIlI_bhAiQfidY5ojj9YznRdXqzCXNATLg/s640/blogger-image--779370045.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzABKrq62emlbkiNOiAbMIMV-jSAbrALOXTx1KeIcTrC2vSYojcfr6swLpVPdjsRZm9q7RJUHPcwZDrvZtsOxf3O6JsQhGahvckPy1FbKJmiFSG8Gi5m4qzJvy37DmyG_ChMUrSQ/s640/blogger-image-566249841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzABKrq62emlbkiNOiAbMIMV-jSAbrALOXTx1KeIcTrC2vSYojcfr6swLpVPdjsRZm9q7RJUHPcwZDrvZtsOxf3O6JsQhGahvckPy1FbKJmiFSG8Gi5m4qzJvy37DmyG_ChMUrSQ/s640/blogger-image-566249841.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgTAyZQx32U8fQryGohFMU9o6ephf584pM9BsevJapYQznczyxPeKkBQ6FxowpwrICVsAjPxX2BhhRsBQfkGFpZ5cmtU2zrmS8KLphcoSbR43tVqkG9gcDEYjQbmBFQnxQ3wpqg/s640/blogger-image-1476060451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgTAyZQx32U8fQryGohFMU9o6ephf584pM9BsevJapYQznczyxPeKkBQ6FxowpwrICVsAjPxX2BhhRsBQfkGFpZ5cmtU2zrmS8KLphcoSbR43tVqkG9gcDEYjQbmBFQnxQ3wpqg/s640/blogger-image-1476060451.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>On our way back to the city we stopped to view the fish drying racks, an ancient way of preparing a favorite snack in Iceland. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TyFhI9dmrMJBuFsbgBXbSYFh0EWST_Km3_rrHy_xncHtGyCWC03i5wZWEiXVTgGUp8bexfoRCbptQBsfVfXYTk2Lu7PhhqwcajBzD4csE88WECPrvDDwiW73StimQCXovE9AMA/s640/blogger-image-1470620149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TyFhI9dmrMJBuFsbgBXbSYFh0EWST_Km3_rrHy_xncHtGyCWC03i5wZWEiXVTgGUp8bexfoRCbptQBsfVfXYTk2Lu7PhhqwcajBzD4csE88WECPrvDDwiW73StimQCXovE9AMA/s640/blogger-image-1470620149.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15828889.post-7598041817156939962016-07-09T12:18:00.001-06:002016-07-09T12:36:39.374-06:00The Kumm-Hanson's visit Iceland Part 3: Around Reykjavik<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzlbG92FPi-cjpaUN9MDT8uEunO_4i3t70KzdCju83A_FauinLxkdR8Xzqt7Bp9tKOHGXYbw-o1NMt53wYI1ttqeiTkGu30FDygIUm4aCXVrqmaqCJU3LGHbChb05HzDUWHGRKQ/s640/blogger-image--1515829789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzlbG92FPi-cjpaUN9MDT8uEunO_4i3t70KzdCju83A_FauinLxkdR8Xzqt7Bp9tKOHGXYbw-o1NMt53wYI1ttqeiTkGu30FDygIUm4aCXVrqmaqCJU3LGHbChb05HzDUWHGRKQ/s640/blogger-image--1515829789.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4BfEMzMtvCNpkKp8ECSrsmzzRH8f7bUrnIS9-_IpnPzfd-bb1x5saAiR_Rtxpy3T-WxrnKM4RI0DJ53qYKFubu79ILhBSywBF5HQGNcc_aN5RXuN5f_MQeip5UMFPKlpjxJa9g/s640/blogger-image-903961899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4BfEMzMtvCNpkKp8ECSrsmzzRH8f7bUrnIS9-_IpnPzfd-bb1x5saAiR_Rtxpy3T-WxrnKM4RI0DJ53qYKFubu79ILhBSywBF5HQGNcc_aN5RXuN5f_MQeip5UMFPKlpjxJa9g/s640/blogger-image-903961899.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlGfYxitxDBuFaK7_QEM82BEsq4T5XSwz_iFiAaHCb65TgvWBesXYQCKNm-ZBz3ZqvmcWDw7t6LJ9dBoqG0BYsLWCVxMV6PBgD_jv-nYkIPXqpNKi-Lv4Il7M_GEWSbEwb2Njqw/s640/blogger-image--2135296912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlGfYxitxDBuFaK7_QEM82BEsq4T5XSwz_iFiAaHCb65TgvWBesXYQCKNm-ZBz3ZqvmcWDw7t6LJ9dBoqG0BYsLWCVxMV6PBgD_jv-nYkIPXqpNKi-Lv4Il7M_GEWSbEwb2Njqw/s640/blogger-image--2135296912.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Our first stop of the day was Reykjavik Roasters, Karastigur 1, in downtown. It was fairly crowded, as it was a drizzly day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8bpiTKTx9yCkmiGUfB8oUWm2tx3_26KShoDXOIDKVflCphfBtftwgddQvf1YpKut0HKNESs7JlnO8YnAI1vpqwIchTqrTzlghZLZBLlsyTLReraQpYjpeGR-s2OPm_ybBy5lPw/s640/blogger-image--2001510944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8bpiTKTx9yCkmiGUfB8oUWm2tx3_26KShoDXOIDKVflCphfBtftwgddQvf1YpKut0HKNESs7JlnO8YnAI1vpqwIchTqrTzlghZLZBLlsyTLReraQpYjpeGR-s2OPm_ybBy5lPw/s640/blogger-image--2001510944.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxL5GXBt854EeUq1SbsGKwwfnI77ynv1PE4AFoYaRru6ygoHlH_1hi2Ar9TzfXZhgLUNtrz2qnDdp7I6hzQBOO16zpybv2j2WwNJg6pO4zKNe_4vksNCsNZ9Lv2Le-HoB2BUfvWw/s640/blogger-image--1973835295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxL5GXBt854EeUq1SbsGKwwfnI77ynv1PE4AFoYaRru6ygoHlH_1hi2Ar9TzfXZhgLUNtrz2qnDdp7I6hzQBOO16zpybv2j2WwNJg6pO4zKNe_4vksNCsNZ9Lv2Le-HoB2BUfvWw/s640/blogger-image--1973835295.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bfyWN7Unf2J-Q3hDmbcJYvYbZ4b3yCLZYbiy6BkOimJeiBqL5SuB7xPXBUpNR6twj4LljfMZ9_-H4g5l86cj2dYaYgRUnBWlMOl6bTxjWeYJ_2_EmXEDy7nd92yme1xTw3BNcw/s640/blogger-image-1062857712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bfyWN7Unf2J-Q3hDmbcJYvYbZ4b3yCLZYbiy6BkOimJeiBqL5SuB7xPXBUpNR6twj4LljfMZ9_-H4g5l86cj2dYaYgRUnBWlMOl6bTxjWeYJ_2_EmXEDy7nd92yme1xTw3BNcw/s640/blogger-image-1062857712.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div>The most recognizable part of the Reykjavik skyline is the Domkirjan, which is said to be the tallest building in the city. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxHENOx5PtTerPlFm-6OLzcrK6ohSlPxYhAxhbyqSH1sTFrwkZhopzG9ZZMTdrnqs5b7TeJOPUm6goTORDsSRgYN4nYFS8XMmqKDz6HrTUHL_X8HI6NFVAXMzAgM3aC-8nNgIPWQ/s640/blogger-image--1651050419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxHENOx5PtTerPlFm-6OLzcrK6ohSlPxYhAxhbyqSH1sTFrwkZhopzG9ZZMTdrnqs5b7TeJOPUm6goTORDsSRgYN4nYFS8XMmqKDz6HrTUHL_X8HI6NFVAXMzAgM3aC-8nNgIPWQ/s640/blogger-image--1651050419.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyZaP34WiOQkmHbcVxnZAPHNtoGHp5mWznAlwSYprdUkqP7YvGlFJyvE_MqT40feoCO0kA4L37YRtlXmr2h88ioFI2u3l7ekzv_8wvNMH-I1yYkxDLmzDXd8bb-cS-RPn350cNw/s640/blogger-image-1987378794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwyZaP34WiOQkmHbcVxnZAPHNtoGHp5mWznAlwSYprdUkqP7YvGlFJyvE_MqT40feoCO0kA4L37YRtlXmr2h88ioFI2u3l7ekzv_8wvNMH-I1yYkxDLmzDXd8bb-cS-RPn350cNw/s640/blogger-image-1987378794.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We had dinner at Hofnin, a seafood restaurant near the harbor. They were extraordinary accommodating of my need to be gluten free. Katrina had Haddock & I had scallop & langoustine chowder. Highly recommended!</div><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15118872079338388308noreply@blogger.com0