New job!

I cannot believe what a whirlwind this week has been. After I got over the excitement of getting the internship, the reality that I needed a paid part time job started to sink in. I called a couple book stores. No luck. Then, out of the blue, I remembered that there is a Once Upon A Child in Roseville, and since I'd worked at one for two years during high school, I thought I'd give it a shot. And I totally have a job now! Wow. God is so good.

Now, I hope my life will settle into some semblance of a routine. But probably not. And I should probably work on packing up the apartment, since pretty soon, I will have very little time.

Love,

Heidi

p.s. I absolutely LOVE this picture. This couple set up the timer on the camera, posed, and this little squirrel decided to investigate the situation right as the camera flashed. Makes me giggle every time.

From one internship to another

I have had the craziest week so far (and it's only Tuesday!). Yesterday was my last day at my internship. I was a little sad, because I really enjoyed the people and the pay, but I'm ready to start something new. And I was waiting to hear back about a new job position. I figured I had a good chance of getting it seeing as I made it through three interviews. But apparently, they made an offer yesterday, and I was left out of it. I got the email today. Very sad. But I'm glad they didn't call me with the news. How are you supposed to react when you have your hopes up about something and then they are crushed? "Oh, thanks. I was really hoping the other person would get it." But anyway, I'll stop sounding bitter about it and won't go into all the details of how perfect it would've been and how Josh could've quit his one job and not be so tired all the time, because obviously, this job was not meant to be.

So, after I cried and moped for about ten minutes, I got a phone call from Milkweed Editions. Two weeks ago, I received a rejection letter from them as well, so naturally, I had completely taken them out of my mind. But miraculously (because God is crazy good about stuff), they had another opening, and they wanted me! Seriously, I sat holding the phone with my mouth hanging open. I had NO idea how to feel. From rejection pains to extreme excitement in ten minutes? Kinda hard to handle.

Talk about your "one door closing, another door opening" experience.

Now all I have to do is find a part-time job that actually pays. I don't want Josh to have all the pressure. And seeing as the first two days of this week have been completely unexpected, I hope some other crazy good things will happen.

Love,

Heidi

Alcoholics Anonymous

Professor Hougen gave me this lovely little book called "Listening to Your Life: Daily Meditations with Frederick Buechner," and over the weekend, I read something very powerful. I'll type it all here and let it do the talking for me:

Alcoholics Anonymous or A.A. is the name of a group of men and women who acknowledge that addiction to alcohol is ruining their lives. Their purpose in coming together is to give it up and help others do the same. They believe they can't pull this off by themselves. They believe they need each other, they believe they need God...

When they first start talking at a meeting, they introduce themselves by saing, "I am John. I am an alcoholic," "I am Mary. I am an alcoholic," to which the rest of the group answers each in unison, "Hi, John," "Hi Mary." They are apt to end with the Lord's Prayer or the Serenity Prayer. Apart from that they have no ritual. They have no hierarchy. They have no dues or budget. They do not advertise or proselytize. Having no buildings of their own, they meet wherever they can.

Nobody lectures them, and they do not lecture each other. They simple tell their own stories with the candor that anonymity makes possible. They tell where they went wrong and how day by day they are trying to go right. They tell where they find the strength and understanding and hope to keep trying. Sometimes one of them will take special responsibility for another--to be available at any hour of day or night if the need arises. There's not much more to it than that, and it seems to be enough. Healing happens. Miracles are made.

You can't help thinking that something like this is what the Church is meant to be and maybe once was before it got to be Big Business. Sinners Anonymous. "I can will what is right but I cannot do it," is the way Saint Paul put it, speaking for all of us. "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do" (Romans 7:19).

"I am me. I am a sinner."

"Hi, you."

Hi, every Sadie and Sal. Hi, every Tom, Dick, and Harry. It is the forgiveness of sins, of course. It is what the Church is all about.

No matter what far place alcoholics end up in, either in this country or virtually anywhere else, they know that there will be an A.A. meeting nearby to go to and that at that meeting they will find strangers who are not strangers to help and to heal, to listen to the truth and to tell it. That is what the Body of Christ is about.

Would it ever occur to Christians in a far place to turn to a church nearby in hope of finding the same? Would they find it? If not, you wonder what is so Big about the Church's Business.

Changes and such

This past week has been crazy for us Thulins. We decided that we will not be resigning our lease and will be moving to The Palisades at the end of September. We're tired of living halfway underground, and we're afraid our rent will go up. I'm especially excited, because we'll be on the second floor (meaning we can have the windows open at night), and we'll have a balcony where I can people-watch and journal in the sun! We'll also have more room in the living area, meaning we'll be better equipped to host people :) As strange as it may sound, I really like packing and unpacking and rearranging everything. Gives me something to do while I wait for a job.

Speaking of jobs, I just got an email from someone this morning asking if I'd be interested in a position. Apparently, my resume was forwarded to him by someone who was impressed by my experience! What a happy surprise! AND the company is literally 500 feet from where Josh works, so we could still get away with having only one car! But I am still keeping my fingers crossed for the publishing company internship. I would love that so much, but I'm afraid that I might have to make a hard decision - choose the internship and love what I'm doing, but make no money or choose a full-time job that isn't exactly up my alley but gives us good money. *sigh* I'd rather get a "no" from someone rather than have to make that decision for myself.

Love,

Heidi

Rogue Budha

Rather than having our writer's group last night, we English grads went to a poetry reading at an art gallery in St. Paul. Our teacher, Amy McCann, presented some of her work, and I was in awe. Her language is very elegant and gentle, and she expressed tragic, disturbing things in beautiful ways. My favorite poem of hers spoke of a dead hawk that her friend lifed into his arms and examined its wounds while Amy took a picture of its fallen, open wing. That moment left a very nice taste in my mouth.

The art gallery itself was very intriguing as well. All the work was done by the same artist, a painter who favored portraits with long necks and large hands. Each of the faces had deep eyes, like an entire story, an entire life was within them. Very haunting. I may have considered buying one if they weren't $2,000 each!

Some more notes on the reading:
1. Having wine and cheese was very classy, and I wished I had been wearing an artsy type dress.
2. There are so many different styles of poetry, and I find it fascinating how different people express their voices.
3. One woman wrote a long poem that was really a series of shorter poems. Each page had only a few lines on it - a little poem that could stand by itself. And each little poem contributed to the larger one. So cool. I think I might try that sometime.
4. A man wrote one called "Sleepwalkers" which I really loved. He described different people sleepwalking, giving each person two or three lines and separating each story with a pause. Apparently, I'm drawn to sectional poetry. It can tell so much in smaller doses. And it lets the silence speak.

And finally, here are some other poets' lines that stuck in my head (I wish I knew the line breaks, because they would make the moments more powerful. That's the one bummer about poetry readings. You don't have the work in front of your eyes.):

"You can't find a wife in a line-up of bridesmaids."
"Medicine in the breeze we inhale when we open the windows."

I should go to more of these things, because I come home all buzzing with inspiration. :)

Hanging Beauty

When Josh and I were up in Madeline Island, we browsed in a few art shops. Apparently, art is held in high esteem on a Lake Superior island, because there was a lot of it! While there, I fell in love with an oil painting. Still Life with Branches. I'm almost haunted by this picture. There's something so peaceful and powerful about it that every time I see it, I sigh and smile.

I hope you enjoy it too.

Still Life with Branches

Terrie Meyer

Inspirational Moments

Last summer, my parents and I spent an extended weekend in Blacklock's Artist Cottage on the North Shore of Minnesota. It is a sanctuary for artists looking for refreshment and revival, and my mom happened to find it in a brochure. It was the perfect place for my writing-starved self.

The room smelled strongly of fish - my dad had just eaten a herring - and my mom sat at the table calculating the time difference between here and Europe. Her eyes were elsewhere, perhaps seeing my sleeping brother in Switzerland.

There was a five-year-old journal on the coffee table that was filled with notes of encouragement, frustration, and advice. I loved glimpsing into the moments of other people, artist and tourist alike. Perhaps they'd have something to say to me.

One woman left a book of poetry in the bookshelf. David Daniel's Seven-Star Bird. I brought it with me to the deck, read it while the waves of Lake Superior sang a lullaby below me. Here is my favorite poem from that collection. It's so simple and short and yet so emotionally present. I love it.

Good-Bye Poem
A day comes
when you have to say good-bye,
when you point to your hand and say,

I believe this is my hand, waving.