I just had a revelation. OK, so not so much a revelation as a continuation of a conversation I had with a ministry colleague in a neighboring synod.

This is going to be big. (In that “I work for a mainline Protestant denomination and we’re always at least five years behind the times” sort of way.)

Before Synod Assembly this year, I’m going to go visit congregations and talk with the people. I’m going to find out what they think about the life of the church. I’m going to listen to their stories. I’m going to pay attention to their most cherished traditions. I’m going to let them “be Bishop for a day” and tell me what they would change.

And while I do this, I’m going to record it. Call it SynodTube. And broadcast it throughout the convention center at Synod Assembly.

Is this going to be a ton of work? Absolutely. But how many conversations will it start? And how will it allow us to think differently about how we do church in our corner of the world? And what things need to stay the same because they’re such a part of our DNA? And what things really need to change? And how to tell the difference? And how to live with our differences — in fact embracing them — with ourselves, with those in our theological family, with our inter-faith brothers and sisters, indeed with everyone.

I’ve heard it said before: “You’re a unique individual, just like everyone else.” Could this be a ticket to demonstrate our unity in diversity?

Oh… in case you missed it, the GMS is doing an Advent vlog. Check out Amy’s reflection!

If chaos theory is true (which I believe it to be), then I think the reverse must also be true: in what appears to be order and beauty, there exists completely unintelligible, inexplicable chaos.

Life is a mess, but people wouldn’t know that looking at me. A soul searching road trip is absolutely a necessity at this point. Defining my own goals is a pipe dream — I don’t even know what I should venture, or what I need to wager in return.

I spent $200 yesterday, when I thought I’d only spend $100. The ADD is out of control. I can’t focus on a single thing for longer than 10-15 minutes at a time. I have so many balls in the air, I don’t remember what I was doing when I threw each of them up there. Without Tylenol PM, I wouldn’t get an uninterrupted night’s sleep. The twin curses of anxiety and depression are circling around me.

I search for approval, for validation
For the proof that I am alive
I’m looking in all the wrong places
But where I crave them the most
There is where I will never find

First of all, I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday yesterday. In spite of news of the dollar’s decline and the failing economy, gas prices pushing ever higher and continued general societal fear, we have much to be grateful for.

Thanksgiving has never been one of the “major holidays” in my family. If we can all get together, great. But its no big deal if we can’t. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been having to defend this position over and over again to people who can’t understand this concept because it is so foreign to their own. That’s OK.

Christmas is the main holiday in my family. The format was the same for the earliest years of my life: opening presents on Christmas Eve at Grandma’s before she moved from Pengilly, going to midnight service at Nashwauk Lutheran Church. We’d all get up early Christmas morning so the kids could see what presents Santa Claus had for us. I’d spend time outside with my cousins making snow forts on the hill. After grandpa died, things got jumbled up. For a few years we did Christmas Eve at our own house, with one of my aunts, going to midnight service with the live nativity at St. Andrew’s, our home church. We would go on Christmas Day to my other aunt’s house and have a big dinner and the big family present ceremony. Then we returned to Grandma’s new house in town for a few years. After we moved to the Cities, we hosted a split Christmas once.

Now that all “the kids” are grown, with kids of their own, Christmas has become a huge disaster. Some think there should be “two Christmases,” one as it has always been, and one for the next generations to have an experience at their grandma’s. Some think we should do our own thing every year. Some think we should forge ahead as always.

I’m waiting to hear if we’re “doing Christmas” this year. One of the possibilities, as it were, is for my immediate family to come to Milwaukee.

Christmas traditions for me aren’t about the people. They’re not about what we’ve done. We don’t have any traditions — no singing around a piano, lighting candles or any of the other popular traditions for Christmas. Its just how we do things. The only constant is Minnesota, normally “up north.” Thanksgiving in Milwaukee was OK. Thanksgiving in Milwaukee with Janine was wonderful; we had a great dinner out of stuffing ourselves, came back to catch up on TV and just otherwise enjoyed each other’s company. I have spent many Thanksgivings away from my family and have been perfectly happy. Easter on my own has been fine.

But I’ll be damned if I’m spending Christmas in Milwaukee — or anywhere other than Minnesota for that matter.

I’m excited, in that dorky communicator way. As of January 1, 2008, communication in the Milwaukee Synod as we know it will change dramatically. One might even say its so new, the old simply is no more.

Stay tuned…

It set in today that I’m going to seminary in February, not in the typical, “God can take that sense of humor and shove it” cynicism which I’m known for, but on the financial front. See, I had been planning to go to the Congress of the World Association of Christian Communication in Cape Town, South Africa next October.

Not going to happen with airfare over $2,000.

So I decided to maybe package it with a backpacking through Europe approach. I thought about going out east this January to visit people, and figured I’d save money for my world travels by not going.

*ting* Seminary costs money, and since I’m starting on the special student path, no financial aid for moi.

Kind of bummed out about the South Africa trip the most.

The title may be beautiful couch, but don’t be fooled.

My solution to cleaning?

Rearranging the living room.

Ugh.